Temperance and Eclosion

One of my favorite ways to understand Temperance is in relationship with Death and the Hanged Man, using the analogy of a caterpillar becoming a butterfly.

 

Hanged Man is the creation of the cocoon. The caterpillar suspends its caterpillar action, and finds a place to ‘rest’ in preparation for this big change. And while things look very still, underneath the surface a lot is going on.

 

Death is the soup stage of the process, where the body is becoming liquid and rearranging itself. (Side note: I’ve seen some decks depict Death as a butterfly, or blogs/books talk about the transformation into a butterfly with this card, and I think that’s one step too far. There’s a little spiritual bypass happening there. The wings wait til we get to Temperance. Death is the in-between, neither caterpillar nor butterfly, but still that unknown mess in the middle.)

 

Temperance is the emergence of the butterfly. Which is not quite as grand as you might expect. Butterflies are pretty damp and wrinkly little things when they first hatch, and they can’t fly for a while. The wings are too soft and weak. So they have to take quite a bit of time to sit and pump their wings slowly, allowing the venous structures within them to fill and give them some structure. They’re hardening and growing and getting ready for take off.

 

I’ve found that when people have Temperance at the heart of their readings, they’re generally pretty frustrated. They’ve been through a big change in their life (Death), and they know that on a cellular level they’re different people now, with a new spirit. They feel their wings! And yet, flight is not happening. They can’t seem to get the momentum they want in their lives, or find the ‘evidence’ of this big inner transformation on the outside.

 

And so, when I explain this whole thing about the butterflies having to pump their wings—which is a stage of the life cycle known as eclosion—and that that’s where they are right now-- with wings, yes, but wings that need some time and space to grow their capacity for flight-- then these folks find a lot of relief. It gives some context to their frustration, and validates the very real change they went through. NO they’re not still caterpillars.

 

They’re able to give themselves some grace, and that’s what Temperance really asks of us. That we give ourselves some grace. That we take the necessary time to let those wings do their thing, so that they’re strong enough to carry us. That we don’t begrudge the process. That we go slow.

2 of Wands and Expectations

Are any of y’all watching ‘The Wheel of Time’ series on HBO (I refuse to call it MAX)? There was a long hiatus between seasons, which means I’m now rewatching the entire first season so I can really settle into the vibe before I dive into season 2. I love the show, and I loved the books when I was younger; one of my greatest memories is of sitting in a papasan chair in my messy teenage bedroom, reading one of the thick paperbacks all day long while eating an entire box of dry Lucky Charms.

 

Anyway! I was pulling cards while I watched last night and had a nice moment with 2 of Wands. I drew it when the character Moiraine, a kind of witch/magician who’s come to ferry away some other characters from their little village and take them on a grand, dangerous, and very unexpected adventure, says to them: Your lives aren’t going to be what you thought.

 

2 of Wands is absolutely the start of a journey. You’ll often hear about planning in 2 of Wands. Consideration, mulling things over.  The figure in this card is commonly depicted on a sort of foundation, looking out onto the horizon, not seeming particularly urgent; just chewing on the possibilities.

 

And yet, the astrological correspondence of 2 of Wands is Mars in Aries. Mars is the Tower, and that’s an awfully strong energy in a card that can otherwise seem rather placid. Mars indicates ambition and drive; perhaps this person is merely determined to set off on their adventure and reach their goal.

 

But I think there’s more here than simple resolve or will. The Tower upends things. Its energy sweeps in and confronts you with the reality that your life isn’t going to be what you thought. A new and different journey is beginning.

 

I pulled 2 of Wands constantly when I was getting divorced and things were a shitshow. I was in a major Tower moment, wildly disoriented and struggling to see my new path.

 

I remember 2 of Wands showing up very significantly in a reading I did for someone whose partner was dying a protracted death— a slow motion Tower-- and she was looking ahead to what her life might be after he was gone.

 

The Tower is very present in this card. Something is forcing change. We are coming to see that our lives will not be what we thought.

 

We are standing in the tension between the things we cannot control (the Tower) and the only thing we can control, which is our willingness to show up fully, and trust in our capacity to meet the challenge: that’s the Aries element of this card, corresponding to the Emperor.

 

Sometimes the energy of Mars/Tower we feel in this card isn’t external, but internal: something within us demands that bold new journey. Then we must hold the tension between desiring to know ourselves more authentically and test our own abilities (Emperor), and having to leave our known worlds, and upend our own assumptions in order to do it (Tower). 

 

2 of Wands is often associated with travel, and it makes sense. To put ourselves into foreign places is to unlearn (Tower) and to develop deeper trust in ourselves (Emperor).

 

In some ways, beginning every day is a 2 of Wands moment. We live in a world in which our safety is in no way guaranteed (Tower), and we have to, somehow, believe in our own enough-ness (Emperor) so that we can step out into it.

 

Perhaps 2 of Wands is a whole-hearted embrace of the idea that our lives will not be what we thought. With the Tower dismantling our expectations, we become free to create from a place of open imagination and be in conversation with possibility.

Year of Practice Example Email: Masonry Vs. Gardening

Year of Practice begins March 20th! You receive an email like the one below every day for a year (or however many months you choose to join). You’ll also belong to a Discord server for sharing pulls, asking questions, and creating community; and we meet twice monthly on Zoom. For info, click here.

My favorite teaching on the Tower comes from ‘Meditations on the Tarot’. Honestly, I think that book is unnecessarily complicated, and while I recommend it all the time, I do so because of the few precious sentences that are to be found within a practically incomprehensible tangle of esotericism.

 

Complaints aside, the essential teaching is that the Tower offers us a choice between ‘masonry’ and ‘gardening’. The way that I understand that is that we can:

-continue to believe that we’re in control, as if we can expect life to go according to our own plans and designs (Masonry),

-or we can live humbly, with an awareness that there is so much about the world that we cannot even comprehend much less control (Gardening).

-Our desire to exert our will and to understand and explain the world around us can make us rigid and inflexible (Masonry),

-or we can stay adaptable, growing in the directions that life directs us, rather than towards an arbitrary aim that we’ve decided on long ago (Gardening).

Masonry is obviously represented by the Tower: we build and build and build, according to our will. We build walls designed to keep us safe, as if we are in control. I always think of the ‘gardening’ approach as 4 of Wands (which is also connected to the Tower astrologically. Tower corresponds to Mars, Aries’ ruling planet, and 4 of Wands is Venus in Aries). Rachel Pollack connects 4 of Wands with the Tower in ’78 Degrees of Wisdom’:

 

[The figures in the 4 of Wands] are leaving a walled city for the open bower. In other words, their spirit and courage carry them from a defensive situation to an open one. We can contrast this image with that of the Tower. The 2 figures in that Major card are dressed very similarly (even to blue and red robes) to the two in the 4 of Wands. In its less esoteric meanings the Tower shows the explosion that results when people allow a repressive or miserable situation to build up to an intolerable level. In the 4 of Wands, optimism and love of freedom carry the people, together, out of their walled city before it becomes a Tower-like prison.

 

 So let’s look at this masonry/gardening theme in today’s spread:

 

I have approached this as a mason:

 Attempting to mold it to my expectations:

 Instead, I could work with it as a gardener:

 And allow it to take its organic shape:

 

Year of Practice Example Email: Knight of Pentacles and Boredom

Mirror & Medicine, Year of Practice begins March 20. Every day, you’ll receive an email similar to the one below—a small reflection on a card, along with a prompt/spread—and you’ll have access to a Discord server where you can share your pulls and discuss with the other members of the group. We’ll meet twice a month for class/group practice. I would love to have you! Find all the information here.

I recently came across this delightful poem by Wendy Cope, called ‘Being Boring’.

 May you live in interesting times.’ –Chinese curse 

If you ask me ‘What’s new?’, I have nothing to say
Except that the garden is growing.
I had a slight cold but it’s better today.
I’m content with the way things are going.
Yes, he is the same as he usually is,
Still eating and sleeping and snoring.
I get on with my work. He gets on with his.
I know this is all very boring. 

There was drama enough in my turbulent past:
Tears and passion–I’ve used up a tankful.
No news is good news, and long may it last.
If nothing much happens, I’m thankful.
A happier cabbage you never did see,
My vegetable spirits are soaring.
If you’re after excitement, steer well clear of me.
I want to go on being boring. 

I don’t go to parties. Well, what are they for,
If you don’t need to find a new lover?
You drink and you listen and drink a bit more
And you take the next day to recover.
Someone to stay home with was all my desire
And, now that I’ve found a safe mooring,
I’ve just one ambition in life: I aspire
To go on and on being boring.

 

It reminded me of Knight of Pentacles, or rather the reputation that this Knight has for “being boring”. They’re not as sexy or exciting or romantic, perhaps, as the other Knights. Knight of Pentacles is considered reliable and trustworthy, but dull.

 

I got to thinking about what it means to be bored and boring, because so much of adult life can be characterized that way. There can be a monotony in our days and our activities that can feel rather stultifying. And yet, the routine of our lives aside, we don’t often allow ourselves to be bored. We fight against it with all sorts of distraction. We seem to fear boredom, although if you google ‘the value of boredom’, they are many.

 

Maria Popova says

 Without boredom, there would be no daydreaming and no room for reflection. Without positive constructive daydreaming, there is no creativity; without reflection, we are no longer able to respond and instead merely react.

 

To be bored is to be unafraid of our interior lives — a form of moral courage central to being fully human.

 

I like the idea of the Knight of Pentacles as possessing this kind of ‘moral courage’. The courage to be bored, to be unafraid of their interior life. I’ve long seen this card as what it looks like to live a contemplative life out in the world—not shut away in a temple somewhere, but having to participate in the routines and tasks of daily living, but doing it reflectively; prioritizing inner stillness and thoughtfulness. Cultivating ‘boredom’ seems necessary to that contemplative orientation.

 

Today’s prompts:

 

My relationship with boredom

How I distract myself from boredom

 What I fear encountering/experiencing if I allow myself to be bored

 What boredom could offer me

 

 

 

 

Year of Practice Example Email: Knight of Swords: Dragon-slayer or Berserker?

Year of Practice 2023 begins March 20th. Here is an example of one of the daily emails that you’ll receive throughout the entire year, along with live Zoom classes/discussions, and access to a group Discord server.

As I’ve been plugged into the news today (and yesterday, and the day before), I find myself increasingly in an imbalanced Knight of Swords energy: agitated, overstimulated, hypervigilant.

 

We talked a bit about this Knight’s reluctance/inability to slow down, but another huge issue we have in this card is that we begin to perceive everything as a threat.

 

I think about Knight of Swords as a dragon-slayer. They have courage and the will to solve problems, to get to the heart of an issue. I’ve pulled it for Glennon Doyle’s tagline “we can do hard things”. Yes! We can do hard things; we can slay dragons. The problem is distinguishing real dragons from imagined dragons (har har), or even, at some point, foe from friend.

 

I’ve written about this Knight before as a berserker*. The history of these Viking warriors is really interesting, but the main thing is that during battle they would enter a sort of trance-like frenzy, and they could not tell enemy from ally. They lashed out at everything.

 

I ran across this Tweet that really showcased how an overstimulated Knight of Swords can present:

 

Dr. Julia Skinner (@BookishJulia) writes:

 

I’m thinking today about a former student who, while a shooter was rampaging through our university’s library, sent me an email from his phone, apologizing his paper would be late. “My laptop is near the shooter and I’m not sure I can get it.” He asked for a 12 hour extension.

 

So this poor kid, who was so accustomed to having to keep up, to meet deadlines, to achieve; in this moment, faced with a real and deadly threat, was ALSO and perhaps even MORE dialed into the perceived threat of a late paper.

 

We have so many difficult things to face and dragons to slay, in our personal lives and as a society. We get jumpy and irritable, just waiting for the next pile of shit to hit the fan. We feel like we can’t take off our armor, because what’s next? We start barking at our families, noises are too loud, we may wince as we open our phones to look at the news or read our texts but we can also feel like we MUST look, because we need to know the shape and size of the next dragon. Our systems get so out of whack, and our nerves totally fried. We cannot accurately perceive threat or urgency.

 

So today’s prompts are very simple:

 

This is not a dragon I need to fight right now.

 This is not a dragon I need to fight right now.

 (Continue to draw as many cards as you need to, for as many things as you’d like to lay down in this moment.)

 

The state of my nervous system right now

 What support does it need?

 * https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berserker

Year of Practice Email Example: The Moon and Wading it Out

Year of Practice 2023 begins March 20th. Here is an example of one of the daily emails that you’ll receive throughout the entire year, along with live Zoom classes/discussions, and access to a group Discord server.

The Moon, like all cards in the Tarot, has a wide, wide range of interpretations. Some folks really welcome and relish the energy of the Moon, delighting in its associations with dreams and psychic abilities, and the “women who run with the wolves” vibe. I think that’s wonderful AND the Moon has only ever shown up for me personally to represent depression, ennui, a feeling of deep doubt, listlessness, a kind of generalized sorrow, melancholy, PMS…..you get the picture.

 

In fact, when I was pulling for “opposites” at some point, I drew it for “What is the opposite of trust?”

 

One time, when I was in a real morose grump, Abi and I pulled it for card-of-the-day on Instagram. While seeing the Moon is never my fave, I was also somewhat relieved, because it meant I was just in the FOG, or the BOG of the Moon, and it was something I could travel through.

 

In fact, on that live I said “Well, ok, I’ll just wait it out, then.” But my enunciation was poor, and it sounded like I said “wade it out”. And I liked that so much. Yes, the Moon is something we have to wade through. It’s a bog, it’s a swamp. We may doubt our ability to make it to solid ground. But as long as we keep MOVING, we won’t get sucked in for good.

 

That’s why I like to refer to the Swamp of Sadness scene in the movie ‘The Never Ending Story’ when this card comes up. As you travel through the swamp, you will begin to lose hope, you will get so sad, and if you give in to those feelings, you will sink and be lost forever. But if you stay focused, if you keep trudging, you will make it through. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YsKu3Jh5IAs )

 

(The idea of ‘wading it out’ also brings to mind the connections of the Moon to the Hermit (18 reduces to 9), a card that teaches us about moving through darkness, about taking things one step at a time, about slow and consciously made journeys.)

 

Let’s ask today

 

What am I being asked to “wade out”

 

 

Judgement and Watching the Skies

I’m in the flow right now of doing a card-of-the-day pull Live on Instagram every morning. It’s a practice I’ve kept on and off over the last few years, and today I drew Judgment. I talked about self-forgiveness, which is the most significant aspect of this card, in my opinion. It has shown me that truth about itself again and again.

 

But I always like to talk about the cards I draw each day in a very tangible, actionable way. These broad, spiritual concepts we explore in the Tarot are wonderful, but they can feel like thought exercises. It’s sometimes hard to take their ‘advice’ in an everyday, boots-on-the-ground way.

 

I missed that opportunity on IG Live this morning, and left it at self-forgiveness. My 6 AM brain wasn’t quite coming up with the practical way to utilize this card’s energy. But immediately after I signed off the phone, I had an experience of this card that was very embodied.

 

It was just time for the sunrise, so I walked down the corner where the rooflines and the trees open up enough to have a beautiful window to the east. It was just beautiful: clouds in pinks and greys and creams, like an oil painting. Watching the sunrise is one of my favorite things. It reminds me that I’m a small part of something much bigger than myself.

 

And so I started thinking about Judgement, and the way it’s depicted in the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, as an angel trumpeting from the heavens, with the corpses being lifted from their graves, arms outstretched. We heed a call from above this card, something that has the power to liberate us from an old, dead way of being in the world.

 

And that’s what it can feel like to watch the sunrise, or a sunset. To see the heavens explode in color can shift our entire way of being. Maybe only for 10 minutes, but that’s ok. That can be enough. I feel the same way about watching the moon come up, or star gazing, or the beautiful cloud formations when a storm is coming in. When I look to the heavens, it does feel like a call. Sometimes when I’m driving, I have to pull the car over to get a good look at the sky, because the call feels so loud.

 

In our day-to-day living, we are very myopic. Our vision rarely extends very far—it’s a screen, it’s the work of our hands, it’s the road immediately ahead. We don’t often look up, we don’t often look out, towards the horizon, towards the heavens. We rarely lift our hands in praise of the beauty of the sky. And that keeps us stuck. We begin to think that this small world immediately in front of us is the entire world. We keep ourselves in a box that grows smaller and smaller, sometimes to the size of a phone.

 

If we want to live differently, if we want the liberation of spirit that Judgement offers, then I can think of no simpler or more effective way than to watch the sky. Being in contact with the beauty and enormity of nature is a remarkable way to change our inner experience for the better. And while many of us cannot get out very often (or ever) to hike in forests or what have you, the sky is readily available. We can find a beautiful cloud, we can find the moon, and if we’re really lucky, we can find a spot for watching the sun rise or set, from beginning to end.

 

The Seasonal Shift of 8 of Cups

It’s the first day of my favorite month: October.

 

It’s actually below 60 degrees outside this morning in Austin, Texas. A practically arctic chill after the summer we’ve had, and I’m loving it.

 

I pulled a card for my altar today, asking: what is the card that best represents October?

 

8 of Cups.

 

This is such a beautiful card for this time of year. In the Northern Hemisphere, we’ve already entered fall—the equinox being in late September—but October feels like the month that autumn really settles in. The weather begins to change in earnest, the leaves turn vibrant and start to fall.

 

And 8 of Cups signifies a similar, internal seasonal shift.

 

Just as the trees are shedding their leaves, we are being asked to release something. Not because that thing is inherently bad for us necessarily, but because it’s seasonally inappropriate.

 

We are entering a much different time of year. We have to cultivate a willingness to let go during the autumn. Just like the trees, we need to loosen our grip on what doesn’t serve us in this season.

 

So, this is a simple release/cultivate spread, but I’ve just added “seasonally inappropriate/appropriate”. Thinking about it this way is a subtle shift, but can be significant for a lot of us. Being asked to “release” something can feel too final, or we can spin ourselves into circles asking why we’re being asked to let go of that thing. Is it not meant for us, is it harmful, are we doing something wrong?! Remembering that it’s a matter of timing and of internal seasons can be very helpful, and allow us to surrender it more willingly.

 

 

The Devil

The Devil is a Big Card with lots of potential interpretations. There’s codependency, there’s kink, there’s shame, addiction, workaholism, there’s that rather ambiguous term “shadow work”. All can apply to the Devil, and more. But I think one of the best ways to understand this card is:

 

When we pull the Devil, we believe that we do not have the power to change.

 

It’s very simple.

 

There are a million stories we might be telling about why we don’t have that power, and that’s our work in the Devil. We must expose those stories (they’re often running as background noise) and craft new ones; stories about our adaptability, capability, strength, and courage. It’s not easy, but it is simple.

 

Do not fall prey to the narrative that change is not within your power.

 

Cards for Climate Change and the Importance of a Neutral Lens

In a recent conversation with my cards, I pulled Ace of Pentacles as a card of climate change.

 

This could be read as reassuring—a “don’t worry” kind of response. Pentacles, after all, are the suit of Earth, and Aces are often read as incredibly positive cards and harbingers of something new and beautiful. But it felt odd that I’d get a reply with this edge of bypass to it, a Pollyanna kind of dismissal of something that feels legitimately very scary.

 

So, in a bit of a ‘test’ of my deck, I asked what card best represents climate change? The answer: Ace of Wands.

 

Another Ace, this time in the suit of fire. Now, there’s a little macabre humor for you. Global warming, and here we are in early May and the west is already on fire like never before. And yet, an Ace, which are “supposed” to be so good. But no one can argue that climate change is good. It is decidedly not good. So, why an Ace?

 

I think what this tells us is that we really have to unlearn the idea that there are categories of cards. Good/bad. Positive/negative. Instead, each card is neutral ground. We may already have been exposed to this idea of neutrality, and may even “know” it intellectually, but allowing that truth to take root in our bodies is another thing. I know that while I personally subscribe to the idea of neutrality in theory, in practice there are still cards that make me reflexively cringe, or sigh with relief, or feel a little lurch of fear or excitement. My body is telling me that I don’t actually see every card as neutral.

 

So I had to sit with this idea that an Ace could represent climate change, and release my expectation that a “better” fit would have been the Tower or something of that nature. I say I trust my cards, so I need to trust this. And Aces as climate change really emphasize the importance of neutrality.

 

Climate change is real. Aces say “yes” to something: yes, this is real. Climate change is also a massive force, and the same can be said for Aces: they are big energy. Climate change presents us with enormous opportunity, just like an Ace. We have to act in response to climate change, and that is what Aces offer: a chance to take action.

 

Read through this neutral lens, these Aces make a lot of sense. But I’m also aware that because I still have a bias towards reading Aces as “good”—try as I might to neutralize them, it’s rooted in my years of history with the Tarot—it’s allowed me some relief. These Aces feel like permission to be hopeful in the face of climate change. If I’d drawn something like 5 of Cups or 10 of Swords, even in attempts to read it as neutrally as possible, how would it have shifted my emotional experience? I have a history of understanding these cards as ‘negative’, similar to my bias with the Ace, simply because of my engagement with vast amounts of Tarot literature. I may be able to interpret it in a way that’s not explicitly ‘good’ or ‘bad’, but I’m certain I’d still have the subtle taste of resignation at the back of my throat.

 

I don’t have any answers or conclusions here, it’s just interesting to note what happens when we read Tarot. If we’re willing to really observe ourselves—not just interpret cards, but watch ourselves interpret the cards, which is an important distinction—then we can get a lot of information about what we long for, about what we lean towards, about what fills us with hope and what makes us feel hopeless. Practicing a more neutral style of reading, which really forces us to confront our attachments and expectations, is an incredibly useful way to practice. It helps us create more space between pulling the card and reacting to it, which can perhaps create that space in our “real” life encounters, when we most need it.

Deck pictured in the This Might Hurt Tarot  

 

2 of Wands and the Power of Mirroring

When I read Tarot for myself, it’s typically in a very conversational style, as opposed to spreads with dedicated positions, or specific prompts/questions. This involves a lot of ‘statement making’—I just say how I feel, or what’s going on in my life, and then let the cards respond. It’s just like talking over coffee with a friend. If you say, “Geez, xyz is really hard for me right now”, your friend may reflect that for you and commiserate with those feelings (just as the Tarot may offer you a card that’s an honest and clear reflection of said hardship). Occasionally, they may propose a solution or a different perspective on the situation that you hadn’t considered (the Tarot does this as well). Sometimes, your friend may roll their eyes at you and be like, “Hey, your head’s up your own ass here” ……and the Tarot can do that, too! But I find that most often, in response to the statements that we make during conversational reading, the Tarot nods along and says “yes, you feel this. Yes, this is happening, and this is what that looks like.”

 

Anyway, I just wanted to set the stage for this ‘statement making’ style of reading, and showcase how 2 of Wands showed up in my Tarot conversations recently in a way that makes this card really approachable.

 

2 of Wands is often interpreted as the precipice of something new; a potential adventure that we must choose whether or not to take, perhaps. Sometimes there’s a new business venture or partnership that’s being established here, or a creative endeavor that’s sparking our imagination. I’ve definitely seen this card come up when someone’s trying to figure out where to move (think of the Rider-Waite Smith version of this card where the person is contemplating a globe).

 

But when we keep Tarot as a daily practice, that means we’re going to encounter the cards on a much more ‘mundane’ level. 2 of Wands might be able to speak to these big moments of choice every now and then, but for a lot of us, those moments don’t come up very often. So, as with many cards, we have to shift our interpretation so that it “makes sense” for everyday application.

 

So in this everyday context, 2 of Wands is about how we feel when we think about the future. We may not have a big choice to make, we may not need to plan a trip or get a new job, but we are always anticipating the future on a fundamental level. So what’s our general attitude about that? Mine shifts from day to day, and 2 of Wands really reflects that. Upright, it looks at the future with a sense of confidence. There is a fundamental faith in the self in this energy, that whatever comes next, we can handle it.

 

Reversed, it’s much more uncertain. Anticipating the future becomes an exercise in worry; we don’t trust that we have what it takes. We fear it will be too much for us.

 

So when I made these statements recently, 2 of Wands was a deeply accurate reflection of how I was feeling. This mirroring really allows me the space to look at these feelings with neutrality.

 

This is what it looks like to stand at the threshold of the future with confidence.

 

This is what it looks like to doubt your ability to face the future.

 

When it mirrors us in this way, Tarot doesn’t condemn or endorse our feelings. And that’s such a powerful thing, because it keeps the power in our hands. We are not being told that we “should” keep doing x, or that we “shouldn’t” do y or z. The Tarot simply gives us an opportunity to look at ourselves with just enough distance—from our eyes to the cards on the table—that we have space to consider: is this the energy in which I want to continue forward? Does this reflect my truest self, or do I want to shift into something more honest?

 

When I find myself in 2 of Wands reversed energy, I know that’s not a place I want to stay. Fearing the future and feeling so much self-doubt is not fun for me! Fortunately, the shift feels close at hand. Truly, I simply reach out and turn the card upright. It’s a kind of ritual magic, no joke, that reminds me that I have what it takes, that I can be confident in my ability to navigate whatever terrain lies ahead on my journey.

deck pictured is the This Might Hurt Tarot

This Card Best Represents the Pro-Life Movement

What card best represents the pro-life movement?

 

Death.

 

I must say, this one surprised me! I gave a little bark of a laugh when I turned it over. I was just not expecting something so incredibly blunt and seemingly contradictory, but there it is. It actually makes a lot of sense, so let’s talk it out a bit.

 

First of all, let’s address the fact that Death in the Tarot is not widely interpreted as ‘actual’ death. It’s metaphorical; it’s about ego death, it’s about transformation, it’s about the loss of something that we identified with deeply, etc. But sometimes, y’all, it is about actual death (the trick of course is not to freak yourself out and think that when you pull Death it’s portending your demise…. but that’s a whole ‘nother conversation).

 

Here, I think it is most appropriate to look at it as literal death. So, why would this best represent the pro-LIFE movement?

 

The pro-life movement, ironically, is obsessed with death. They are focused on the “death” of the fetus. They use images of “death” in their pro-life propaganda. (I put “death” in quotations here because I don’t want to give credibility to the idea that what happens in abortion is death in the way that we typically define it.)

 

But beyond that, the pro-life movement results in death. When abortion is not safe and legal, people die. Many, many pregnant people will die, and that is not conjecture. That is a fact, and we know this because it’s happened before and it will happen again.

 

The pro-life movement’s hyper-focus on death leaves no room for an honest conversation about life. Lack of abortion access means lives are lost. It means lives are irrevocably damaged. It means lives are brought into a society that gives lip-service to their sanctity, but offers zero support system for their flourishing.

 

The pro-life movement is a Death movement. We don’t need the Tarot to tell us that, but I’m glad it did.

This Card Best Represents Abortion

I ask my cards Big Questions. 

 

When I asked ‘What is the card that best represents abortion?’, I don’t know what I anticipated. I don’t feel any moral ambiguity, so I wasn’t expecting to pull something like, I dunno, the Devil, or a card that would have me questioning my whole belief system. I know that abortion is absolutely fine, and is a decision that’s made for the greater good: the good of the pregnant person, of their family-present and future, of the good of society. 

 

And still, what I drew in response to this question was so beautiful that it really shook me. The card that best represents abortion is: The Star. 

 

The Star is about healing, first of all. It is also a card of staying oriented towards hope. When we make a decision in Star energy, we are keeping our gaze fixed on a brighter horizon, and choosing to move toward what is in our highest and best. We are navigating by love and towards love. 

 

It also corresponds to Aquarius, which means it’s a deeply humanitarian card; it is concerned for the future and for the well-being of those that will inhabit it.  It wants what is best for all. 

 

The Star is most often depicted as a figure pouring water from vessels into a stream or pool. The stream is widely interpreted as a symbol of our collective consciousness, and in ‘Meditations in the Tarot’ particularly, the author talks about this stream as flowing from the past to the future, and he calls the figure in the card the “mother of the future”. Now, he’s really referring to some deeply esoteric stuff that I can’t pretend to understand, but what I feel when I think about these ideas within the context of abortion is: 

 

That universal stream of energy in this card is where we all originated and where we’ll all return. The figure in the card is pouring back into the stream what they cannot, for now, carry. Perhaps they will be a ‘mother in the future’. Or perhaps it’s for someone else, somewhere down-stream. But for now, that energy is being returned to the source, and that’s no problem. 

 

I truly believe that Spirit speaks to us through the cards. When I pulled the Star as the card that best represents abortion, I take it as fact. It is a beautiful, beautiful response to the question; so deeply reassuring. If you’ve been struggling to find peace with your own abortion, for whatever reason, I hope you can take solace in this message. You are the figure in the Star, pouring out your blessing to the future, a future that is made possible and hopeful because of you.