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.

Cleaning up Christmas and 5 of Pentacles

Today, on January 7th , I’m putting away Christmas. I’ve brought in all the tubs from the garage and am trying to remember how and where it all fits: the stained glass nativity set, the wooden Santas with delicate dangling lanterns and church warden pipes, the felt wreaths and the forest of glittery trees. I felt a growing swell of some unidentifiable emotion as I taped bubble-wrap and separated icicles from snowflakes, and so I stopped to pull a card, as I so often do to help me name and place what is happening within. 

I drew 5 of Pentacles, reversed, which is relevant and resonate on so many levels that I kind of wanted to cry. 

A couple of years ago, my youngest daughter and I were looking through a Rider-Waite-Smith deck card by card. I would ask her what she thought they showed or what they “meant”, and when we got to 5 of Pentacles, she said, “That looks like window shopping at Christmas!” 

I can only assume that she saw people standing outside of a brightly lid window, in the snow, and that was all. She didn’t note their rags and the suggestion of estrangement and dejection in this card. Of course, her observation was much more insightful than she knew. 5 of Pentacles *is* window shopping at Christmas. It is being on the outside of warmth and abundance. It is being at a remove from comfort and belonging. It is being surrounded by the trappings of joy, having it so close at hand, but not being able to access it, for whatever reason. 

So many of us feel that way during the holiday season. Our various estrangements stand in stark relief against the strident TOGETHERNESS of Christmas. Our sorrows seem to tarnish the silvery sheen of yuletide gay. We feel poor. Money may be scarce. “Christmas spirit”-whatever that really means-is elusive. 

To pull this card reversed, as I pack away all these bright little bits of glass and plastic, amuses and relieves me. The sense of estrangement can recede, now that the pressure to perform our merriment is past. The energetic depletion that shows up in 5 of Pentacles—fatigue from too much to do, the empty wallets from too much spending—will ease. It’s good. And yet. 

And yet all that I’ve been thinking, as I note the history of each ornament, is of the passing of time. The wooden loon from a trip to Minnesota, to visit an uncle who died years ago. The little picture-frame featuring the face of a childhood friend that I haven’t spoken to in 5 years. There’s the Santa Lucia-only one little candle left on her crown after 30 some Christmases-that represents my mother’s Swedish heritage, my mother who is diligently organizing all the paperwork I will need upon her death. The little yarn owl that I bought the year I was pregnant with my first daughter. I was with my then-husband at the beach. Now, he is a stranger.

I pack these things carefully, testing the weight of the boxes that we’ll haul up to the attic, so that they’ll be easier to bring down 11 months from now. I assume that I’ll be here to do it. But the truth is, I don’t know. None of us know. Life is so precarious. And if I’m here, god willing, who will be alongside me? What will the world look like? Will we have been more thoroughly abandoned by our government that we are, even now? Will the gulf between us as fellow citizens have grown ever wider? Will we still be so sick? Will we still be so poor? Will we still be refusing to do anything about the climate crisis? 

All of these are 5 of Pentacles issues. None of these questions can be packed away with my baubles and bells. And no answers will satisfy, because the truth is likely uncomfortable, and besides, the future is unknowable. The only response I can possibly make, the only one that makes any sort of sense, is to reach out for connection wherever and whenever I can. 

Queen of Pentacles

I like the keyword ‘sovereignty’ for all Queens; Queen of Pentacles is sovereign over their environment, their body, their resources. Queens teach us how to set boundaries and how to practice both exquisite self-care and radical self-compassion. Queen of Pentacles asks us to take ownership over our finances, to tend to our homes and beautify our living spaces, and to nourish our physical selves. On the deepest level, this Queen is about learning that the material and the spiritual are one and the same. This Queen trusts in the magic of their incarnation, and understands that not only is their body a temple, to use that old adage, but that everywhere they stand is sacred ground. Seeing through that lens, Queen of Pentacles offers a powerful opportunity to release judgment of ourselves. Their elemental signature is Water and Earth, which combines to make clay. This Queen understands that both our lives and our bodies are not fixed, but pliable like clay; so not only can this Queen adapt to all manner of circumstances with grace, but they extend infinite compassion towards the shape they are taking, in their life and in their physical self. They embody a sense of authentic faith, for they know that every cell and fiber is holy.  

9 of Pentacles

 In order to get to the essence of each card in the Minor Arcana, I like to find the underlying theme among the cards of the same number, which you can also find in their Major Arcana Counterpoint. So, the 9s in the Minors relate to the Hermit—the Major 9—and all share a common theme of personal responsibility. Our work in the 9s is something we must do on our own—no one else is going to swoop in and make it happen for us. 9 of Pentacles is about building a life that is our own. While it’s often interpreted as wealth or abundance, I find that it’s more about self-definition. When we envision a life that feels like *home* to us, that feels like *our own*, what does that look like? Can we trust that we are capable and resourced enough to take care of ourselves, and to find a sense of intimate belonging in our own lives and in our own skin? I find that this card often comes up for folx who are getting divorced, for instance, and are having to take care of themselves alone for the first time in a long time. 9 of Pentacles reflects both the personal financial responsibility involved--and serves as reassurance that they are capable of handling it--but also shows that the time is now for creating a life that is truly unique and reflective of who they are. 9 of Pentacles can also reflect a state of health and ease in the body, or serve as a reminder that you are totally safe and not at risk of material ruin. 

When this card comes up in any reading, it asks us to recognize what we already have.  What are you “rich” in? A sense of abundance is available here if we learn to make a true accounting of our inner and outer resources. 

the Sun

The Sun is one of the final cards of the Major Arcana, which as a whole can be read as the narrative of our spiritual development. So coming towards the end the story, the Sun represents a rebirth; throughout the ‘Fool’s Journey’ of the Majors, we have established the self, begun to question the self, and ultimately surrendered the self. In the Sun, we have reached a point where the deeper spiritual trials have done their work. We have wrestled with our shadows and have become, in so many ways, *new*. When this card comes up in our readings, it calls us to acknowledge all the work we’ve done to grow and allow ourselves to feel the fruits of that: the lightness in our being, and a sense of abiding faith and hope that we have developed over time that allows us to trust ourselves and our path. Optimism is warranted when this card is present. I also feel that this card is one where we begin to understand how interwoven our spiritual and emotional selves are with everyone around us. We are all particles of light, not separate from one another. Humanity is its own organism. I always think of the practice of metta meditation the Sun card shows up, and see it as an invitation to extend compassion and warmth and loving-kindness towards all those around me. 

7 of Swords

7 of Swords is, in my view, one of the most complex cards in the Tarot. It is full of nuance, and its appearance in any reading can bring up many more questions than answers. Like any 7, the energy here is split or fragmented in some way. It’s often interpreted as a card of deception, cheating, or lying, and while that may certainly be true, it’s not always such a scathing indictment. Sometimes we *are* obfuscating our intentions, but it’s not always nefarious. The Next World Tarot, for instance, uses the keyword ‘escape’ for this card, and I really like that. Sometimes we do need to hustle out of a situation with haste and without owing anyone an explanation, and 7 of Swords can indicate that for sure. Or sometimes we are putting up some sort of smokescreen to hide our real motivations, and while sometimes that’s a necessary sleight of hand, it can also indicate a lot of shame. 7 of Swords can also indicate a major and very unexpected ‘plot twist’ in the story of our lives, and sometimes it reflects that we’ve left something significant unsaid and it’s causing us a lot of regret and misgivings. I also find that it often shows up for those of us who tend to keep our emotional bags always packed and sitting at the front door, so to speak. It’s astrological correspondence is Moon in Aquarius, and that energy can be remote and hard to pin down. If this card reflects that tendency within you, it’s worth asking if you’re able to go ahead and settle in to whatever situation or relationship you find yourself in, because commitment of some kind may offer you a lot of room to grow. 

the Hierophant

The Hierophant is a card that’s really layered with meaning and has lots of potential interpretations. And this makes sense, because a hierophant is someone who, in history, was a translator of the sacred, or of the mysteries. In more old school Tarot approaches, the Hierophant often represents institutional religion or a spiritual teacher of some sort, as well as tradition and the morals/values of our culture. This can certainly still be true, but in the more modern approach of looking at each card as a way to deepen our personal development, the Hierophant asks us to trust in our own innate ability to find meaning in what we encounter, to develop our own internal moral compass, and to trust that the difficult experiences of our lives will lead us towards wisdom. I say that because the Hierophant is card 5 of the Major Arcana, and if we look at each Minor Arcana 5 we find hardship and struggle. Suffering is what has given birth to spirituality, in so many ways; suffering is what inspires us to ask Why, and through our own difficult experiences we must develop our own Why. We so often want to outsource this kind of meaning; we want some outside authority to tell us why. We want the Void to answer back. But in the Hierophant we learn that, ultimately, this existential Why can only be answered from within. 

On a more practical level, this card can come along when we’re examining what we’ve been taught; this has particular significance if we have children and are questioning if what we’ve learned from our parents is what we want to pass down. Also, the Hierophant can call us into a teaching capacity. 

King of Pentacles

In some approaches to the Tarot, the suits are ordered such that Pentacles is the final suit of the minors, and thus the King of Pentacles represents a sort of pinnacle experience, or an arrival. It is someone who has ‘made it’. It’s easy, within our capitalist system, to interpret this King as one who is successful in their career and/or makes a lot of money, and has such material abundance that they can afford to be generous (I would argue here that if you can ‘afford’ generosity, is it virtuous?). And while I agree that this King does represent a pinnacle, it’s not of achievement necessarily, but of integration. I see the suits as follows: the suit of Wands relates to our gut center, Cups to heart center, and Swords to our head center. This is informed by my understanding of the Enneagram (if you’re unfamiliar with this system, please visit conciousenneagram.com. Also visit if you’re familiar! Abi does tremendous work), which describes these centers as “centers of intelligence”. The Pentacles suit, from my perspective, shows us working towards a balanced embodiment of these 3 centers. In many ways, I think it shows our path towards wholeness and it’s where we put spiritual principles into practice. The Pentacles are about the life we build as we discover who we are through the other suits. So the King of Pentacles has reached an extreme level of ease and comfort with themselves through continued and intentional practice. They have found integrity in what they believe and how they live, and have found harmony and balance in their thoughts, feelings, and actions. And I think that, because of this kind of spiritual maturity, they truly understand their role in the ‘circle of life’ (and in fact, I think Mufasa from the Lion King is a perfect example of King of Pentacles). 

6 of Swords

6 of Swords is a card of transition. It usually indicates that we have left behind a troubling situation, or something that wasn’t right for us in some way, and we are now moving towards something that’s more in alignment for us. But we haven’t reached that shore just yet; our boats are still at sea, though 6 of Swords does assure us we are oriented in the right direction. However, typically when this card comes up, we do need help in some way. Note that in the RWS version, there are passengers huddled in the front of the boat, their vision obscured by swords, while a ferryman stands and navigates, looking out over the swords. This indicates a need for a different perspective, from someone who isn’t as close to the situation. Think going to therapy, or talking to a friend who can look ahead for you, towards the horizon, and give you reassurance that you’re doing the right thing, even if you seem to be sailing totally unfamiliar waters. 

This card can also come up to represent literal travel or change of direction, and sometimes suggests a physical change in location in order to get that shift of perspective that’s required. I sometimes think of the passenger who can’t see past their swords as a person who is stuck behind their screen (for swords being the suit of communication also represent our relationship to computers, technology, and social media). So 6 of Swords can tell us that we need to stand up, get out, and look beyond the screen and into the broader world, where often things don’t look quite as dire as they do when we’re stuck in the scroll.  

for more on 6 of Swords see my YouTube video

Page of Wands

I think of Page of Wands very simply as “permission to hope”. This card often shows up when we have ended something or completed a phase of our lives that was difficult and heavy. We find that reflected in the 10 of Wands, which precedes the Page: an experience of burden or labor (often emotional labor, but sometimes literal labor as in too much damn work) that has drained us of optimism and joy. In the 10 we find a saturation point, but in the Page, something has shifted enough to allow us to see ourselves and our circumstances with a renewed sense of possibility. We find ourselves here with a stirring of long-dormant ambition and a hunger for new experiences. Page of Wands relishes in anticipation and teaches us to savor the beginnings of things. It tells us to go ahead and believe that things could be *good*. 

the Empress

The Empress is a card, in so many ways, of love: sometimes it’s about how we show it to others, but more often it’s about how we show it to ourselves, and how we allow ourselves to receive it from others. The Empress asks us to wrestle with our ideas of worth, and whether we fundamentally believe that love is something that we have to earn or if we are worthy of love simply for existing, for being here, as we are. I like to teach cards 1-7 of the Major Arcana as an act of reparenting the self, and when we reach the Empress this is essentially what I say: If you had just had a baby—a baby that you wanted and anticipated and longed for, you would love that baby from the moment it was born. It wouldn’t have to DO anything to win your love or earn your affection. This baby doesn’t have to prove itself. You love it simply because it has arrived, and its existence is a kind of miracle. You love it because love is what makes babies grow and thrive. The Empress has many connections with creativity, with what we nurture, with fertility, and with motherhood (though keep in mind that no card in the Tarot is truly gendered). Often when it comes up in our readings it’s asking us love ourselves as we would this child, to remember that just as we’re intuitively aware that children require love and acceptance in order to blossom, so do we. We can’t wait to love ourselves *until*……until we meet some entirely arbitrary standard or metric that, let’s be honest, will always be a moving target. We must love ourselves now, because we are worthy of love right now. Right now. 

4 of Wands

4 of Wands is sometimes considered a card of marriage: note that in the RWS version, a couple is running towards what looks like a wedding chuppah, and the astrological correspondence for this card is Venus in Aries. Venus rules the Empress, and Aries is the sign for the Emperor, and these 2 archetypes are often seen as a pair. So while 4 of Wands can certainly reflect a marriage or romantic partnership in our readings, to find a broader interpretation, it can symbolize any rite of passage—think graduations and anniversaries. And while the energy here is often more celebratory, it can also acknowledge deaths and divorces (this is where you often see the reversal of this card). It is the completion of some stage of our life that is often best processed through rite and ritual. That is, in our culture, typically marked with a party or gathering, which is why many interpretations of this card point in that direction. So while 4 of Wands can absolutely be a simple call for celebration, that usually comes hand in hand with a transition of some sort; a threshold that has been crossed. Intentionally marking these passages is how we step into and claim the next iteration of our identity, another hallmark of all 4s in the Tarot (correlating to the Emperor-the Major 4-whos key phrase is ‘I Am’). 

2 of Cups

2 of Cups is a card of intimacy, first and foremost, but it does not always mean intimacy with another. When this card does come along to reflect a relationship, it is a nurturing and equitable one, and though it’s not always romantic, it very often is. However, I find it most often shows up when there is a part of ourselves—usually one long held in judgment or looked upon with shame—that we are working to heal our relationship with. For example, I have seen this card in readings to indicate recovery from disordered eating. 2 of cups is really about a willingness to look at our deepest wounds and vulnerabilities and welcome a compassionate dialogue with them. We are working towards self forgiveness in this energy, and we are likely learning that, since our relationship with ourselves is one we can never escape, it is the wisest course to become the best partner to ourselves that we can be. 

Ace of Wands

This is the first Ace I’ve written about in a card-of-the-day post here on the blog, so I want to talk about Aces generally first. They can be overwhelming cards, and because the energy is so large and holds so much possibility, it’s often difficult to pin down what they’re really telling us within the context of a reading. The main thing to know is that they are very positive omens: they offer us tons of potential energy, and are often seen as ‘gifts from God’ (note that each Ace in the RWS deck is held out by a hand emerging from the heavens). So, when they come up for us they are not a guarantee (we do, after all, have to take the gift that’s being offered here), but they do show that if we choose to work with this element we will likely find success and fulfillment. So the element of the suit of Wands is fire, and there are a lot of qualities we can work with here. Ambition, creativity, desire, sex, anger, hope, optimism, grit, determination—these are all found in the suit of Wands, and they are seeded within this Ace. It’s BIG energy. To narrow it down a bit, what I have found to be most true is that the Ace of Wands appears when we are asked to have faith. Not necessarily in a religious sense (though that can also be true) but in ourselves. The suit of Wands relates to our ‘gut center’ (think ‘digestive fire’), and that is where we find both our Will and our appetite for life. When we’re “on fire” we TRUST ourselves, and we are unstoppable. When we’re “on fire” we can both attract what we desire, and we can also keep away predators. This Ace asks us not to be afraid, but to shine brightly. 

To read further on the Ace of Wands as the “kernel of the erotic”, inspired by Audre Lorde, you can become a Patron here and have access to long-form weekly posts which include a spread for every card. 

8 of Cups

8 of Cups is a card that often indicates a sorrowful parting. It can reflect that you have left behind a relationship, a business/career path, a place you once called home, and that this leaving was bittersweet. We often poured a lot of ourselves into whatever is indicated here, and it may have made us happy for a long time…..and yet. We must leave, on a path we may not see clearly yet, but that we know will lead us somewhere necessary. The Golden Dawn (an esoteric order whose members  Arthur Waite, Pamela Coleman Smith, and Alistair Crowley-who created the Thoth deck—gave us the 2 most popular decks in modern Tarot) called 8 of Cups the Lord of Abandoned Success. And yet, if you are someone who pulls cards as a daily practice, this interpretation of 8 of Cups needs some broadening, as we are not ‘abandoning success’ all that often. I think that within a more everyday context, 8 of Cups asks us to break from emotional patterns that no longer serve us. 8s in the Tarot are about transformation and finding alignment, and relate to the Strength card, which is healthy confrontation with ourselves. When 8 of Cups comes up, you may be in a situation that is bringing up a lot emotionally and you are being offered the opportunity to choose something different. Can you respond consciously instead of react unconsciously? It can ask us to cut ties from our “old self” and choose a path of emotional maturity. 

I will also say that this card sometimes comes along very strongly to recommend sobriety, particularly from alcohol. 

2 of Wands

I feel like all 2s in the Tarot can hold a sort of ambivalence about them. If you’re anything like me, you might have been under the impression that ‘ambivalence’ is synonymous with apathy, but it really means ‘holding contradictory feelings’. 2s, being related to the High Priestess, all carry this energy of contradiction. We may be looking for answers and direction in 2 energy, but it often comes with a lot of tension—anticipation mixed with apprehension, excitement mixed with fear. When 2 of Wands comes up, we are at the starting gate of a new venture. This is very often related to work/business or creative pursuits, but it can also be about our relationship to spirituality, activism, or sex. The suit of Wands is related to fire, so in 2 of Wands, we desire to take the spark of the Ace and grow it into a viable flame. This card shows that the conditions are right, but that we’ll need to commit. There can be a tendency, when we’re in this energy, to kind of paw at the starting line and experience the longing to move forward, and even to talk a big game about what we’re going to do, but not lace up our boots, so to speak, and begin the journey. Because fire needs consistent feeding and tending we can experience anxiety around our abilities to manage this energy, and stop ourselves before we even get started. 2 of Wands tells us to grow faith in our abilities by utilizing them: it says get going, and do the thing. 

the Moon

The Moon is a complicated card. Very often it shows up in readings to represent a state of depression or melancholy, or just a sense of confusion: often we don’t know *how* to feel when we’re in Moon energy, but something feels off. The beautiful book ‘Meditations on the Tarot’ calls the Moon an “emotional retrograde”, and I can personally attest to that. We can find ourselves revisited by old longings in the Moon, and often old behaviors that we thought we’d overcome. A feeling of listlessness can sometimes descend on us here; I liken it to the Swamp of Sadness from the movie ‘The NeverEnding Story’, where Atreyu and his horse, Artax have to trudge through this foggy, gloomy swamp that threatens them with despair: if they give in to those feelings, they will be sucked into the mud and drown. So it’s tricky energy, the Moon. On the one hand, we can find treasures here. The ‘emotional retrograde’ can return precious jewels from our past, and we can rediscover parts of ourselves that we didn’t even know we’d been missing. On the other hand, we can fall into old patterns that keep us from progressing on our journey. It can be a simple statement from the Tarot that we don’t text our ex, for example, or a suggestion that we dive into dreamwork and excavations of the subconscious. There is a lot to be found in the Moon, and it is always worth a closer look. AND YET, we should not attach firmly to what we find here. That is the key to traversing both the Swamp of Sadness and the Moon. We examine things without identifying with them, here. The Moon, of course, moves in phases. Things are ever changing. And whatever is reflected for us in the Moon will also change, like tides going in and out, carving strange languages in the shifting sands of our hearts. 

The High Priestess

The High Priestess is a card that carries a lot of weight and significance in the Tarot community. Being a card that in many ways represents access to our intuitive self, its energy is often joyfully welcomed in readings. High Priestess is considered a passive or reflective card, and while we embody this energy in our turn inward to hear the whisper of our own innate wisdom, it is not often a place where we actively make decisions. We may desire answers very much, but in the silent, interior space of the High Priestess, we are simply in a time of consideration and contemplation. This card is ruled by the Moon, as so it can remind us of the wisdom of cycles, and that everything comes in phases. What is illuminated at one point in time will be shadowed in another, and vice versa, so the High Priestess patiently watches the unfolding revelation of the truth. 

for more on the High Priestess see my YouTube video

Knight of Cups

Knight of Cups is one of the cards in “old school Tarot” that would represent a suitor; think love poems and mix tapes. I stay mostly within the camp that believes that court cards do not represent other people, but only aspects of ourselves (and I say mostly because of course there are exceptions, and Tarot could never be pinned down with “always” or “never”). Knights often reflect how we’re presenting in the world, or advise us on how we should. How should you approach this situation? How are you coming across? What are you single-mindedly in pursuit of?  These are questions the Knights can answer for us. Knight of Cups, being in the suit of emotion, wears their* heart on their sleeve. They show us what it’s like to be vulnerable and emotionally available with total confidence, trusting that it’s the most courageous thing to do. Knight of Cups prioritizes connection, leads with their intuition, and also moves with a lot of grace and balance. Think of how difficult it would be to ride a horse while holding a goblet full of your own feelings! You need to be really mindful so you don’t spill them everywhere. That’s why I don’t agree with interpretations of this Knight as melodramatic (although in reverse we might veer into that territory); you need to show a lot of restraint and maturity to move through the world and keep an open heart full. 

*again, court cards are beyond gender 

9 of Wands

This card shows up in readings when we are engaged in some effort that requires *fortitude*, and often reflects that we are growing a bit weary. 9 of Wands can act as a cheerleader in many ways (perhaps an unlikely one! Characters in 9 of Wands typically have a bit of a trepidatious or determined countenance, but not usually a peppy one), letting us know that we have the reserves within us to achieve our goal. It can sometimes indicate that we’ve taken a bit of ‘time off’ and are returning to the battlefield so to speak; for instance, I’ve seen this card show up both for writer’s returning to their manuscripts after months of writer’s block, and for people getting back into the dating world after a period of being intentionally single. That’s where the trepidation can often come in; in Pamela Coleman Smith’s illustration, the figure’s head is bandaged. This can show that whatever effort this is has cost us in the past, and so we are wary. But it also indicates that we are invested in this pursuit, and are willing to see it through. I think this card says both that you are can *and* that you should, and it also suggests a measured and unhurried approach, as 9s relate to the Hermit, and so can often be about moving very deliberately. 

For more on 9 of Wands see my YouTube video.