Tell Me Who You Are
On my walk to work this morning, I asked myself what three things I can’t live without (apart from food, shelter, etc.).
My daughter.
Music.
The trees.
I’m not sure what this says about me but it feels about right.
Then I thought: What about words? (which have always been ridiculously important to my identity).
And I thought: No, not words.
Because even if we think we’re very good at them, and we do our best as humans with other humans, sentences usually fall a little (and sometimes a lot) short.
Where We Are
All I do is walk and walk and walk, and run, and suspend my thoughts in music. I don’t know how else to move through my days now.
At the same time, without getting into detail, all yesterday it felt like my career has caught fire in the best way. Instead of plain thrashed, I feel like I’ve never felt in my work.
I’m excited.
I know what this is. Historically, I just haven’t felt it all that often.
It’s desire.
I know exactly where I want to be, what I want to do, and with who.
Maybe you’re feeling red-hot at the moment too, or the Knight of Wands could be a person around you with similar qualities: they are adventurous, fire on fire, and brimming with energy.
Both court cards, the Knight of Wands from The Linestriders Journey appears here with the Queen of Cups from The Field Tarot, which means this combination could also hint at a relationship: two people coming together with assured passion.
Maybe it’s the queen’s sultry exposed leg and steady, direct gaze that pushes this idea to the forefront :)
But the standard understanding of this watery matriarch, according to psychologist and tarot scholar Jessica Dore, is that she has a strong sense of which emotions are hers to work through and which are for others.
She is well-boundaried and appropriately empathetic—and she doesn’t try to fix unsolvable problems. She will, however, give you her absolute attention, unafraid to follow her heart.
Either you are embodying a blend of these two energies at the moment—the sexy charisma of the knight and the emotional intelligence of the queen—or you are smack in the middle of a whirlwind new (or renewed) union that is both hot and loving.
What’s Coming In
“Hot and loving” makes for fertile ground for what comes next here: Ace of Wands.
We’re responding in a new way, coming into a new phase, and in the northern hemisphere springtime is exploding off in all directions, really bringing this home. If all is going according to plan the external world, with all its gorgeous budding and bursting, is providing a mirror to our inner landscape.
The suit of wands represents that mysterious force that stimulates and motivates you as an individual. It’s the initial spark of response within us before we have time to think about what it means—it’s what turns you on.
By definition, an ace is a beginning but also “a person who excels at something.” My older brothers, instead of calling each other by their names, have always addressed each other as Ace … with a very masculine and, thus, hidden affection toward one another.
The Ace of Wands is an invitation to excel, to accept that hell yes from the universe. You may, however, notice that this new passion won’t quite feel guns a-blazing because we’ve got this guy to contend with.
In the coming weeks we’ll be tempered by the energy of the Knight of Pentacles, who is a bit of a plodder, ticking things off his list, making sure it’s all in order. Although we’re excited about a new project or person, we’re well aware that things need to marinate. It’s early days.
There will be more than a few cues to take it step-by-step and a bit gingerly.
The Advice
The only major arcana here is Justice, and in a reading that ends on a weighty note (because of that Apocolypsis card, which I’ll get to in a minute) this is the hardy root of our advice.
The most analytical card in the deck, Justice means that the truth is calling, and by that I mean:
What is right.
What is wrong.
And what consequences will ensue.
It asks us to reflect on our past actions—the good, the bad, and the ugly (it all made sense once)—and try to be truly realistic about their cause and effect and any potentially morally or ethically dubious acts we’re partaking in now. I’ll further complicate the advice by mentioning that Jessica Dore talks about this card as instructing us to be willing to engage with the parts of ourselves we have deemed unlovable.
Should you accept the mission and assess past acts in a way that can inform or amend what you do in the weeks to come, it’s important to note that some of the truths that were once airtight will now require a more adaptable approach.
This is where the Two of Pentacles butts in.
What has been right and what has been wrong are concepts that are getting a makeover. They are becoming more malleable … or loose.
Not so cut and dried.
Rules are shifting and the advice is to take more than a brief glance at where you stand, what you’re doing, and why.
What are your own rules—now?
Not your sister’s, or a close friend’s. Not even your spouse’s.
Yours.
The Oracles
Ah, we’ve arrived at a combination of oracle cards that take this a note further.
I’ll admit the definition for Apocolypsis (with its connotation of apocalypse) from The Wild Unknown Archetypes guidebook is a little scary.
And I quote: “Apocolypsis energy is similar to a forest fire’s—devastation for the sake of regeneration.” But raised in the church, with regular fear tactics employed by my mother, I no longer do scary.
What fascinates me is the context for Apocolypsis—the cards from Woodland Wardens by Jessica Roux that appear alongside it.
Anticipation and Communication.
If we’ve found ourselves of late in a new landscape, let’s theorize that it’s around how we anticipate communication signals from others, or how we think about our own communications.
Artificial intelligence now undermines the work and beauty of our critical thinking skills, and (this is a guess) a good 20-50% of our conversation is through messaging apps. Multiple close relationships in my life exist most of the time in my phone.
The way people communicate what is real is changing, and in a peculiar twist (or perhaps I’ve reached a point of desperation) I seem to be getting better at expressing myself. I’m saying less—with more intention—and that’s the real advice in this reading.
Sure, we use words. We must. You can whip off whatever in the comments, or banter with an intriguing someone on Bumble.
AI can write your paper, or an email message or cover letter.
But it can’t tell me what phrase your father would say that made you feel great about yourself, or anything about the family members who made you feel like shit. It can’t tell me how you made the decision to have one child, or four, or none, and whether that was even a choice, and how that’s going at the moment. It can’t tell me who you deeply love, and who you love out of duty, and why that is. Or anything in detail about your physical or emotional challenges and chronic compulsions.
It can’t tell me the most interesting things about you.
Who you are.
Only you can do that.
So even if you begin this process from nothing, I dare you to take a closer look at what’s been hiding and—if it feels right—say the true and scary part out loud.
The best part of the description for Apocolypsis is this: “The unknown becomes known and guides the way.”
Resources
Dore, Jessica. Tarot for Change. Penguin Random House, 2021.
Fofana, Hannah Elizabeth. The Field Tarot. U.S. Games Systems, 2020.
Krans, Kim. The Wild Unknown Archetypes. HarperCollins, 2019.
Roux, Jessica. Woodland Wardens. Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2022.
Thompson, Siolo. The Linestrider’s Journey. Llewelyn Worldwide, Ltd., 2016.
