divination, life

The Eight of Wands (wants me to hurry up)

Sometimes, the tarot tells you that the energy is right for embarking on a new adventure. Like the Ace of Wands, for example. Sometimes, it uses eight sticks to goad you into doing a thing, instead.

This week, I drew the Eight of Wands. I’ve got to hand it to it — I have been feeling a lot of momentum lately. I don’t know if it’s the warming weather or the appearance of the sun during what’s felt like a very cloudy winter, but I definitely get that sense of motion!

In every respect, the Eight of Wands is progress, and very rapid progress, at that. It’s a wind that picks you up and carries you along. It’s an upswing in energy. It’s a rapid recovery from a low point, It’s infatuation, movement, high energy, and flight. It’s results.

I’m happy to see it.

Positive omens are lining up for beginning another round of studying! I found a new Meetup group! I’ve made a lot of very interesting breakthroughs while meditating and journeying that I don’t really want to get into right here, because they probably won’t make any sense and will alienate literally everyone else! I have so many paintings to photograph and list, my dudes. 

As advice, the Eight of Wands can be the harbinger of good news. It’s learning from a positive experience, and letting that confidence carry you to greater heights. It’s finally gaining the understanding that, even if you had to start from zero again, you have what it takes to achieve what you want again and again, as many times as you need to. It’s a thumbs-up from the universe, a pat on the back, and a sign not to quit now.

The Eight of Wands is near the end of the Wands cycle, but it isn’t the ultimate culmination. It’s just a high point, a small success that gives you confidence that the larger success is possible. It might be tempting to take shortcuts, but that isn’t what got you here and it won’t be what gets you to the end.

It’s good stuff.

 

divination, life

The Nine of Cups

More Cups.

Following the Three of Cups last week, I guess the party isn’t over! The Nine of Cups, upright, is another overwhelmingly positive card. As a Nine, it is near the end of the cycle of pip cards. The only thing after it is the Ten of Cups, so the Nine of Cups is a good indicator that the hard times are in the past (for now) and things are looking up.

In love readings, it’s a sign of emotional fulfillment, pleasure, and satisfaction. In career readings, it points to success and recognition. In a more spiritual context, it points to spiritual fulfillment and a soul that radiates joy and positivity.

Even in terms of advice, the Nine of Cups is a good sign. Looking at the traditional imagery of the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, there’s a man sitting in front of a row of golden chalices, arms crossed and a frankly smug expression on his face. All of the cups are upright, none are spilled. He’s got a ton of resources to back him up. Whatever this guy wants, he is probably going to get.

In the Crow Tarot, the imagery is similar:

9ofC

He sits on top of a pyramid of Cups, filled with fruit, fish, flowers, and the keys to whatever his little bird heart desires. The world’s his oyster.

I could use this energy right now. I’m taking on some things that are pretty new to me, and a few that aren’t — though they are rather high stakes. If I do have the keys to everything I want right now, I plan to use the crap out of them.

 

 

divination, life

A Re-sip-ient of the Three of Cups

(… Sorry.)

I get lot of Cups.

I’m not complaining, of course. Cups cards are the cards of emotions, and most of the Cups I end up drawing are all about fulfillment and good times.

This weekend, my S.O. and I had a little cause to celebrate. I’ve been able to get out more now, so we packed the weekend with things we’ve needed to do, and a few that just sounded like fun. The rain dampened our plans a little bit, but that’s alright.

The important thing here is that I’ve got so many plans for stuff I want to do, my dudes. i have a group of tabs open for some local theaters and concert halls, which I’ve been idly refreshing in my spare time to see what’s on offer. It’s a really nice feeling to be able to do that, pick a show that looks like fun, and actually plan to go, instead of feel like I’m tormenting myself with FOMO.

So it feels pretty appropriate to draw the Three of Cups this week. I’ve pulled it before, when he and I were about to move into our new place, and we each had a ton of irons in the fire that we were both very excited about. This time around, I’m continuing existing projects more than starting up new ones, and I don’t really have a major life change on the horizon that I know of. There are always more things that I want to do and see, but both my S.O. and I are in a very good place at the moment. I’m very happy to enjoy my new freedom, though!

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Saturday, we’d hoped to go see World in a Box. Unfortunately, the stars didn’t quite align — they were sold out, and the rain made navigating there a bit of a challenge. Still, it prompted me to look at what else Rhizome has coming up, and given me a lot of new ideas.

I love this card. I love the Crow Tarot deck. I love where my life is right now, and I’m excited to see where it’s going.

 

divination, life

The Star

As much fun as last week was, at times, it absolutely kicked my butt.

I don’t know if you remember when our car got poisoned when we went on that road trip down south, but, between a clunking engine and a cracked windshield, we’d finally decided that it was time for Caliber the Undying to be put out to pasture.

(According to what the trade-in guy said, the pasture appears to be somewhere in eastern Europe.)

So, my S.O. had to get a new car — though by “new,” I mean more like “used, but clean and significantly less likely to turn into smoking rubble on the highway.” Couple that with some late work nights, getting handed a shovelful of writing orders, turning in the corrections for my Druidry coursework, and going out in a crowd for the first time in over a year(!), I’m a little drained.

Please, I silently begged as I shuffled my deck, please just not the Ten of Swords. Or Nine of Swords. Or any of the Swords, to be honest.

Fortunately, I lucked out. This week’s card is The Star.

The Star is a very positive omen — it’s a hope spot. A pause for breath. It comes after The Tower, a card of tremendous upheaval, so it’s common to draw The Star when you’re entering a time of peace, serenity, and optimism after a struggle.

I wouldn’t exactly call what I’ve gone through lately a struggle, of course. While it was a lot of work, and it wore me out, I was glad to do it. (I mean, I’m not exactly going to complain about having too many opportunities to help support my family!) Still, spoons are spoons, and it’s possible to wear yourself out doing things you enjoy.

The Star is a positive omen in virtually every respect, whether you draw it in a Love, Career, Spirituality, or just a general reading. As advice, it asks you to focus on rest and healing — The Tower has fallen, the worst has passed. Marshall your strength and go forward from here. Conditions are favorable, you’re on the right path. Don’t force anything, just let it guide you.

Right now, it’s guiding me to some magnesium oil, a heating pad, and a cup of marshmallow root tea.

divination, life

The Nine of Pentacles (Pretty Much Rocks)

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I love the Nine of Pentacles. In most Rider-Waite-Smith-inspired tarot decks, she just radiates peace and contentment. She’s in her garden, everything is lush and verdant, nobody’s bothering her, and the entire scene is the absolute distillation of serenity.

The Nine of Pentacles has big “The Merchant’s Wife at Tea” energy, and I am extremely here for it.

merchantswife
The Merchant’s Wife at Tea, painting by Boris Kustodiev.

I didn’t have anything weighing that heavily on my mind when I drew this week’s card — really, I just wanted to see what’s coming down the pike. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier.

In virtually every respect, from love readings, to health, to spirituality, the Nine of Pentacles indicates that a reward is coming. In the RWS tarot, the woman stands in front of what appears to be a garden, indicating that the blooming pentacles are the reward for her toil and tending. Since it’s a nine, it isn’t the ultimate culmination of the suit’s cycle, but it’s very close. The hard work is appreciated, the foundation is stable and the growth steady. The reward is on its way.

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Aura moon from The Promote Peace Shop. Big Herkimer diamond from The Elusive Herk Shop. Cards are the Crow Tarot.

Even in terms of advice, the Nine of Pentacles says to remember who got you where you are. You put in the work, and you reap the good that you sow. Your discipline, work ethic, and sacrificing is what got you to this point.

Lately I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of waiting again. My partner and I have completed a lot of writing, so now it’s up to editors and beta readers. I’m still waiting to hear back about my coursework. Other aspects of our lives are up in the air now, too, waiting on a rubber stamp or the stroke of someone else’s pen. The Nine of Pentacles is a sign that this waiting isn’t a waste of time — we’ve put in a lot of hard work, and the fruits of our labors are coming to us. That’s something I’ve felt, and something I’ve wanted, but didn’t really want to get my hopes up about. Getting a message that spells it out so explicitly is a really, really good feeling!

 

 

divination, life, Neodruidry

Turmoil and the Ten of Cups.

I’m not going to write on the state of the world right now. In the words of Dave Barry, “I don’t want to write it, and you don’t want to read it.” It’s impossible to create a picture of my internal landscape without looking at the externals, though, so suffice it to say that we’re on the brink of war, an entire continent is on fire, and to many things suck to even begin to list here. Worst of all, many of them are things that were predicted would suck in this exact fashion, so even just existing is a bit like being given the Ludovico Technique using a slow-motion train wreck.

Internally, I’ve been working on adjusting my dose of antidepressants. I’ve finished my Dedicant Path work, so all that remains is to have it reviewed and see what needs to be corrected or elaborated upon. There was another(!) leak, this time in the building’s gas room down the hall, and getting it fixed involved calling emergency maintenance in the middle of the night on New Year’s Eve, waiting, being not-terribly-surprised when no one showed, and then calling the gas company and hoping they’d be able to find a way into the gas room the following afternoon. They did, it’s fixed, and now all that remains is to wait and hope that the new management company will see fit to replace the ancient, inefficient, leaking fixtures and appliances.

With the oven and gas room fixed, I can finally cleanse and bless this place the way it should’ve been a month ago. Constantly smelling gas didn’t seem to be a super great omen for that, however, so I’ve been putting it off.

I’m getting stronger day by day. I’ve been able to do things I couldn’t before, and my physical endurance and mental fortitude are improving greatly. I will always have some degree of disability, but it constricts my world much less than it used to even just a few months ago.

I’ve been working on creating my own tarot spread, cobbled together from the spreads I most commonly use, and the kind of positions I inevitably end up tacking on for clarification. I like it so far! There are a few things I may change, but that’s for Future Me to worry about.

I’ve also been doing a small, meditative ritual every day, and regular trancework. Writing it down has been interesting — the way I usually receive and process information from these jaunts is generally very coherent and linear, even the metaphorical bits, so I never really felt the need to jot things down for further exploration. Journaling hasn’t so much changed how I receive or interpret the messages, but having a record of them makes it much easier to pick out sychronicities from journey to journey and elsewhere in my life. I’ve gotten a lot of water lately, but that’s a subject for another time.

So, amid this mix of good news and bad, I was a little hesitant to draw a card this week. I didn’t last week, for just this reason — there was too much unresolved, demanding too much energy, for me to sit down and put down a coherent string of thoughts about it. I think I’ve said it before, though I’m honestly too tired to check: Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.

It’s a pitfall of reading for yourself, or even someone whose situation you’re very invested in. When we’re too emotionally bound up in the answers, they’re difficult to interpret truthfully. I don’t find this to be the case for a low-stakes one card reading, but, if something’s weighing heavily on me, I’m more inclined to ask someone else to read for me — or at least compare their readings to my own to find the commonalities. When I feel like this, highly invested in things that seem to be spinning out of control, it’s usually a challenging time for me to read for myself.

Anyway, without making a long story longer, I drew the Ten of Cups.

The Ten of Cups is one of the most positive cards in the deck. It’s come up for me before, when my S.O. and I finished writing a book. We just recently finished posting the first leg of Ane’s circus caravan’s journey on Phoenix & Rook, and I did also just finally finish my Dedicant Path work… So I’m really beginning to wonder if this card’s going to turn up for me every time I finish a big piece of writing.

No complaints here. I could some some peace and fulfillment — as could we all.

divination, Neodruidry

The Eight of Cups

The Eight of Cups shows a figure with their back turned to eight… well, cups. In Rider-Waite-Smith-inspired decks, it depicts a man hiking away and leaving the cups behind. Really, it’s a very simple, elegant way of portraying exactly what the Eight of Cups means: turning your back on something and moving on.

Few cards in tarot are entirely negative. Even The Devil can stand for earthly pleasure, and The Tower is the destruction that makes room for something new. The Eight of Cups is no different, really. It’s a letting go, but it’s a letting go of something that should be let go of.

I’m almost done with the Dedicant Path work that I’ve been working on for nearly two years now, delayed by a few health- and moving-related hiatuses, and further slowed by a self-imposed language study. Oddly enough, it’s not that I’m so close to finishing that I feel like I want to change direction. Not entirely, but enough.

My ethnic and cultural background is very mixed. (The only thing any of my ancestors have in common is that, from Russia to Canada, they all seemed to love the cold. When a handful of them ended up in Tennessee, the next generation wound up in New York. We are not a warm weather people.) I originally wanted to choose Ireland as my cultural focus, but began doubting myself — especially when it came to studying Gaeilge. So many other people focus on Irish paganism, and probably better than I. So, I changed. Now that I’m almost finished and ready to complete the writing assignment, I feel like doing that was a betrayal, of sorts. Is it dishonoring my ancestors to feel like it was too difficult, and I wouldn’t be as good at it as other people? How would I be bad at it, anyway?

So, after months of study, I’m changing my mind again. I don’t think I can confine myself to one cultural focus, though I need to for the purposes of finishing this right now. I might be terrible at remembering where to put the síneadh fada (counting Gaelige, only two of the languages I’ve studied even use diacritics — and I wasn’t much good at remembering the other one, either), but favoring the gods of some of my ancestors over the others would be a mistake.

You know, I almost miss the days when it seemed like I pulled nothing but Aces. They were less heavy.