Typically this is the paid portion of this newsletter that comes once a month, but I feel called to share this with all of you this month. This space is held together by tarot, a playlist, and by getting clear about what was given to us to take into the next lunar cycle.
I was in conversation with a friend this last week talking about some of the ways that I’m being asked to step further into my body, my queerness, and my voice. Immediately the 7 of wands popped into my head, and I knew that it wanted to be the card to guide us into this next month’s lessons.
As we move into February’s lunar cycle, coming out of the influence of this Leo full moon, I’m reminded of standing up for what I believe in, what we believe in. This moon has asks us to turn towards the things we hold dearly about ourselves with unwavering vigilance.
It’s a card that I didn’t understand for a very long time. The card looks combative and confrontational in many decks. It’s a card that stirs up unrest in my stomach, one that can’t be diminished unless acted upon. It’s a card I’ve pulled in my own practice when something is at a point of tension, but a tension that I find to be constructive. It points me to where I am not speaking, not acting, and not defending myself in order for my practice to deepen. The 7 of wands allows us to be angry and often encourages it.
The 7 reminds me that there’s something I’ve built with a hell of a lot of dedication. It’s something I’ve found to be guided by strength and even rage. I notice this in myself and I notice this in the collective. We are using rage to instill movement. This rage cannot be extinguished by someone in disagreement. We know there is sanctuary in disgust. There is strength in carving out a new way of doing it. There is power in carrying hope.
The 7 can also nod to the spaces around us built with the exploitation of power at its foundation. I watched the Killers of the Flower Moon this last week. It took me an entire afternoon with multiple breaks for solace during a film that provided none. It felt relevant to everything we’ve witnessed with the ongoing genocide in Gaza. It reminds that our government has and continues to skillfully disease, burn, and kill people and the lands they steward. It was a poignant example of placing trust in people and institutions that are not to be trusted. It reminds me that what we’re witnessing now with many vantage points has been accomplished for a long time, it was just tucked away behind closed doors.
This month feels large and unwavering. Allow rage to ignite fire. Allow fire to burn down what stands in your way. Allow purpose to drive action. Allow organizing to diminish hopelessness. Allow strength to make you stand taller. Allow sure-footedness to bring people with you.
What does it mean to build communities of trust outside of the ones we are instructed to depend on?
What does it mean to see clearly amongst death?
What does it mean to infuse rage into our practice as a means of instilling hope?
What are we willing to fight for knowing consequence may be involved?
If you’d like to book a session with me, I offer tarot on Fridays. We meet online and have the option for recording with closed captions. I’m now a resident vendor at Estoria Market each month which will be my first in-person event for the year on February 18th. I should have protection candles amongst other new goods. Otherwise, I have goods in my online store and at Press Shop, Motherlode, and now Nectar Yoga for those in Atlanta.
With care & rage,
Amazing post, thanks for sharing this! I really resonated with: "Allow purpose to drive action. Allow organizing to diminish hopelessness. Allow strength to make you stand taller. Allow sure-footedness to bring people with you." I'm going to remember that this month.
Also, I had a very similar reaction to Killers of the Flower Moon. I wrote in my Notes on my phone, right after viewing: "felt like the ending opened a wound, in a meaningful way." It's like that feeling of "allow rage to ignite fire" that you mentioned.
Cheers!