Man, trying to read tarot for someone, especially a Pisces, can turn into a real nightmare. You watch those YouTube guys or read those shiny books, and they hit you with stuff like “The deep waters of the subconscious are mirroring the cosmic dance of the universe, demanding surrender to the flow.” What the actual crap does that mean for a guy trying to decide if he should wear a raincoat today?
I got really sick of it. My buddy, total Pisces, every time I did a quick daily pull for him, his eyes would glaze over. He’d spend the entire day wandering around, overthinking every single word, convinced that The Tower meant his apartment building was going to collapse. It’s supposed to be simple daily advice, not a philosophical thesis! I needed a system that cut the nonsense and gave him something he could actually act on, or at least something that wouldn’t make him cry by lunchtime.
The Great Tarot Translation Project: From ‘Cosmic Flow’ to ‘Go Do Laundry’
My entire practice started with one disastrous reading. It was a Saturday, we were supposed to be having a chill day. I pulled the Seven of Cups, a classic ‘options’ or ‘daydreaming’ card. I gave him the standard line: “It’s about choosing your reality, prioritizing your dreams.” He spent eight hours staring at the ceiling, paralyzed, listing every possible reality he could choose from, ended up choosing none of them, and we missed the movie we were supposed to see. That was it. I decided I was going to strip all the mystical fluff out and build a simple, common-sense key for daily pulls.
I grabbed every single deck and interpretation book I owned—about ten sets total—and just slashed my way through the definitions. I didn’t care about the Kabbalah or the numerology, I cared about what the card tells a person to do or feel right now.

I boiled down every single card into three simple, brutal key phrases. Just three words or short phrases:
- The Action: What should you actually do today?
- The Emotion: What are you probably feeling?
- The Warning: What is the one thing you absolutely shouldn’t do?
This process was a mess, honestly. For a week, my dining table was covered in little sticky notes. I’d have the Knight of Swords written down as “Attack, Annoyance, Stop-Talking.” Then I’d look at the Star card and write “Chill, Hope, Don’t-Overthink.” It was crude, but it worked. I was forcing these big, heavy cards to give immediate, practical input.
Applying the ‘Pisces Filter’ – The Real Game Changer
Once I had the crude universal list, I took the whole thing and pushed it through what I called the “Pisces Filter.” This is where the practice got really specific and useful. Pisces already lives in the emotional deep end. They don’t need “deep water” advice; they need a life vest and a reminder to come up for air. I realized that for this sign, many cards needed a slightly different translation, specifically focused on setting boundaries or grounding them.
For example, the standard interpretation of the Four of Swords is Rest or Retreat. For my buddy, this often meant he’d literally climb under the covers and stay there. So, through the filter, I rewrote its key phrases specifically for him:
- Action: Nap, but Set an Alarm.
- Emotion: Exhausted.
- Warning: Don’t Ignore the Phone.
See? It still means rest, but I anchored it with actions and warnings that prevent the classic Pisces over-retreat spiral. It became an actionable plan, not an excuse to dissolve into the matrix.
I tested this method for a full month on him, and also on my sister, who is also a very sensitive water sign. Every morning, I’d send them just the three key phrases for their daily card. No ceremony, no deep voice, just the three bullet points. What I noticed was a complete shift. The readings stopped being terrifying philosophical hurdles and became simple checklist items. He wasn’t paralyzed by the Seven of Cups; he just saw “Look at your list, Pick ONE, Don’t Start New Things.”
It’s funny, the actual realization didn’t hit me until one evening. He actually thanked me for the readings. Not for the deep wisdom, but because it was the first time he got a reading that didn’t make him feel crazy. My whole practice was never about me being some master reader; it was about me getting so annoyed at the uselessness of the standard system that I broke it and rebuilt it into something actually functional for the people I care about. The end result is a system that isn’t poetic or professional, but damn, it gets the job done and keeps the Pisces in my life from spiraling into existential dread over a daily card pull.
