Jennifer Belanger, Intuitive Practitioner

02/20/2026

I wrote this for anyone who has ever felt like they needed clarity sooner rather than later — without scheduling, traveling, or explaining everything out loud.

Why an emailed tarot reading can be exactly what you need right now.

https://www.energytouchintuition.com/thoughts-and-journeys-blog/why-an-emailed-tarot-reading-can-be-exactly-what-you-need-right-now

02/15/2026

02/11/2026

02/11/2026

Craving tarot guidance without leaving home?
My Emailed Tarot Readings bring clarity straight to your inbox—book anytime, delivered within 24 hours.
From one-question insights to soul blueprint explorations, receive grounded, compassionate wisdom tailored just for you.
Perfect for life's crossroads, big decisions, or quiet reflections.
Ready to connect?
Book now:
https://www.energytouchintuition.com/emailed-tarot-readings.html

02/08/2026

Every February, as the world fills with hearts and promises and talk of twin flames, I find myself thinking about the love stories I’ve actually witnessed.

At my tarot table.
In hospital rooms.
Across kitchen tables.

And I’ve come to recognize something very simple about love.

It is astonishingly human.

I wrote about that today.

https://www.energytouchintuition.com/thoughts-and-journeys-blog/the-questions-we-are-afraid-to-ask-what-if-love-is-human

02/04/2026

Facebook loves a gentle CTA at the end:

Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be about grand gestures or big questions.
Sometimes it’s simply a moment to pause and check in with your heart—
with your relationships, past and present, and with the connections that bring steadiness rather than confusion.

Tarot isn’t always about answers.
Sometimes it’s about listening more closely to what’s already true.

Appointments are open:
https://app.acuityscheduling.com/schedule.php?owner=24501151

02/01/2026

Healing isn’t the absence of pain,
it’s learning who I am now,
standing in the quiet space
you once occupied.

When you left, something in me followed,
not all at once,
but slowly, in pieces
I still notice missing.

I move through familiar routines,
yet they feel altered, unfinished,
as if I’m living a version of myself
that hasn’t fully returned.

I search for the person I was before,
the one who laughed easier,
the one who didn’t measure days
by how much they hurt.

Some parts come back softly,
others resist being found,
as if they belong to a time
that can’t be revisited.

So I heal by meeting myself again,
patiently, without forcing answers,
learning who I am becoming
while carrying who I loved.

— Angels Are Near