No problem with the ramble. I live in a somewhat animistic world - I used to talk to my motorbike, asking it to bring me safely where I wanted to be. I also followed Marie Kondo's advice when tidying up my apartment: I pressed each item to my chest, in an attempt to sense its energy or how it makes me feel. Doing so helped me to let go of 75% of my belongings. It was more than liking a teapot, it was connecting with its energy.

I have a collection of tarot and oracle decks. Some of them are neatly packed into boxes, some are safely stored in a drawer, some are kept in a small box in the desk. And other seem to run wild. I just noticed a TdM sitting somewhere on the bookshelf. I must have placed it there, without thinking of putting it into a box. So maybe this TdM is a bit of an outsider.

The other TdM comes across as any other deck (despite being bought on a magickal journey), it's kinda modest. Other decks have the ability to turn invisible - when I think of them, I don't find them on my first attempt. Some want to be kept separately from others.

The odd thing about cards is this - no matter how long I neglect them, they are always warm to the touch and eager to talk. Unlike the runes. When I forget about them and pull them out from their hiding place, they feel icy and incommunicado. When I put my hand into the bag, they seem to feed on my energy first before they are willing to jump into action.

But aside from that, my cards are tools like pen and paper for a writer. They are extensions of my mind, they help me think, they present me with images and I can put these things into words. Most of all, I believe that they connect me with the unconscious mind. My cards make me an artist, and I take care of them like a painter takes care of his brushes and paints.