dispatches from the wild interior: September 15, 2020

The Emperor: Yes, it is a heavy lift and you are powerful beyond measure. When I say lift with your knees, not with your back, I mean go deep. None of us can carry this moment alone. But the angels and ancestors, the trees and the moon, the stars and the soil – they’ve got you. They wait to be called on in the service of creating a sacred next. A more holy us. What ecstatic and exhausting work this is you were born to do. Rest up. Dream deep. Don’t forget to stretch. It’s just getting started.

dispatches from the wild interior: September 14, 2020

The Magician: I was reading a post yesterday about how everyone has a small, unrecognized magic they rarely notice – one person never ever twists their ankle even if they step in a hole, another can sleep absolutely anywhere, another always knows where the silverware is kept in any kitchen. Today, let us not disregard any of our magics, no matter how seemingly small. And let us not aim to entrepreneurize them, but love them in their apparent refusal of monetization, their infinite non-utilitarian beauty. Love them for the odd grace with which they light us, when we let them.

dispatches from the wild interior: September 13, 2020

Two of Wands: Sometimes the short stick gives the most light. Sometimes it’s the friction between two options that produces enough light to see the way forward. Everything is translucent if you look closely enough. Choosing rightly means standing on one foot and then the other, and then realizing that standing on both feet is also a choice, albeit the default position. This moment is also a lens, a magnifying glass, an invitation to examine what appear to be different sticks but are two branches of the same tree, or appear to be two branches of the same tree but are a snake holding very still and a long cardboard box holding roses from someone you forgot.