The Question Gravity Problem: Why Vague Questions Pull Every Card Into the Same Orbit

Today's Lesson Ask "What should I know about my life?" and watch what happens: every card becomes a mirror reflecting the same formless anxiety back at you. The Hermit isn't about solitude anymore—it's about "something with being alone, maybe?" The Seven of Pentacles isn't about patience with long-term projects—it's about "waiting for something, I think?" Without a specific question to anchor them, cards lose their distinct meanings and collapse into a generic soup of possibilities. Your brain, desperate for coherence, starts forcing connections that aren't there. This isn't intuition—it's pattern-matching gone haywire. The fix isn't complicated, but it requires admitting your question is too broad before you shuffle. Try the sentence test: if you can't finish "I need to know whether/when/how _____" in under ten words, your question will drag every card into vague territory. "What's happening with my career?" becomes "Should I take the project my boss offered Friday?" "What about love?" becomes "Is silence from this person distance or processing?" Notice how the second versions create slots that cards can fill with precision. The Three of Swords in the first scenario could mean anything; in the second, it tells you exactly what kind of silence you're dealing with.…