Reading the Grip Field Notes

The Space Between

This field note examines the nonverbal space between a seeker's first contact and the session itself, why that space is not empty time, what it offers the intuitive reader who knows how to use it, and how reflective practice in that interval changes what becomes possible in the reading.

By Leigh Spencer Fourth-generation Matakite (seer), tarot practitioner of 40+ years, professional journalist of 30 years, and founder of The COMPASS Method™.

I didn’t record the reading the next day.

I sat with it for two days. Not because I was avoiding it, and not because I didn’t know what the cards were showing. I knew. But I also knew that rushing to deliver something, even something clear, isn’t always the right move. So I waited.

On the second day, I picked up a book I’d been reading. I’m rarely without several on the shelf at once, and this one happened to fall open to a section about what happens when we hold too tightly to outcomes. About why the grip itself pushes things away. About the specific kind of resistance that forms when desire becomes desperate.

I stopped reading and sat with that for a while.

Then I knew how I was going to structure the reading.

Why the work of intuitive reading begins before the session does

There’s an assumption in how we talk about reading practice that the work happens in the session. You sit down, you pull cards, you interpret, you deliver. Linear, contained, sequential.

In reality, that’s rarely how it goes. Or at least, it’s rarely how it goes when the reading matters. After decades of intuitive practice, the pattern I’ve observed consistently is this: the quality of what happens inside the session is shaped by what the reader does, and allows, in the time before it.

From the moment a seeker reaches out, something begins. Not in any mystical sense that needs defending, simply that contact opens a channel. She’d sent me her message. I’d received it. We were connected in the way that people become connected when one of them is carrying something heavy and the other has agreed to help carry it for a while. That connection doesn’t wait for the session to start. It’s already working.

What this means in practice is that the two days I spent not recording the reading weren’t empty time. They were part of the process. I was processing. She was processing. The book falling open to the right page wasn’t a coincidence I need to explain, it was information presenting itself from my environment at the moment I was ready to receive it. That happens. If you’ve been reading for any length of time, you know it happens.

The mistake is rushing past it to get to the deliverable.

Trusting the nonverbal space as part of interpretive structure

This is one of the things that’s genuinely difficult to teach, because it runs counter to everything we’re conditioned to believe about productivity and helpfulness. The instinct when someone reaches out in distress is to respond immediately. To do something. To solve.

But a seeker who has reached out and is now waiting isn’t just waiting. They’re in motion. The act of asking for help, of externalising something that’s been internal, already starts to shift things. Reading pressure doesn’t only exist inside the session. It exists in the approach to it. And the reader who understands that has more room to work with by the time the session begins.

By the time she sat down to receive the reading, she would have done some of her own processing. The landscape would have changed, even slightly, from the moment she sent that first message. Knowing that, and trusting it, changes how you approach the preparation. You’re not racing to reach her at her worst moment. You’re giving the space between contact and session its proper weight.

How reflective practice surfaces the framework the reading needs

The framework I decided to weave through her reading didn’t come from a deliberate search. I wasn’t looking for a methodology to apply. I was reading a book, and the book opened to something relevant, and I recognised it as relevant because I’d been sitting with her situation for two days. That’s reflective practice doing its work, not passively, but actively, even in stillness.

That’s how this kind of thing works in intuitive reading. You don’t always find the structure. Sometimes the structure finds you, but only if you’ve given it enough quiet to arrive.

I could have recorded the reading the night I pulled the cards. The information was there. But the framework that would make that information useful to her, the one that would help her loosen the grip enough to actually receive what the cards were showing, that arrived on its own schedule. Within The COMPASS Method™, creating deliberate space before a session is part of how a reading is structured, not an optional extra.

Waiting for it was the right call.


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