“How will you survive the inferno?”* When exhaustion gives way to desperation and desperation gives way to hope. Buried in the rubble of explosions yet to come, we will find the burning embers of love for ourselves that cannot be obliterated. Of our fire that refuses to be put out. Of stories we will decline to silence regardless of how many times they have been lit with gas. Lifting from the ash of our anger, the dust that rises will catch our light, refracting it in rays for all to recognize the beauty and pain of our truth.

The Ten of Wands is our absolution. The medicine of what it means to be gentle with grief but not to surrender our staying power. The Ten of Wands pardons the pieces that persist when we all we want to do is pack it in. When to go on means to embrace the ache of exercising our voices until they are heard. The Ten of Wands is a reminder that we will only have lost when we give up. It does not demand us to call it quits. Rather, it asks us to call faith into the dark residence of respite. It reminds us that we can only achieve great feats if we practice being right sized, right here. If we address our wounds that need dressing. If we do not tend our own hearth, with what will we light our torches when it is time?

The Ten of Wands is serious about action but its concern is the beliefs that bolster it. When we focus on the fear, worry, anger, conflict and trauma, even if they were served to us, we exhaust our minds and bodies with every drop of poison we ingest. But we are beings connected to the land. We know that to grow branches for firewood means watering roots first. We know that to wait long enough is to compost, to transform rot into fertilizer. We are a vast ecosystem, connected, even in our deepest fatigue.

“The deeper the ash, the more likely you are to find something smoldering: a last ember, a spark to ignite the next conflagration.”** We are at the beginning of Venus’ retrograde journey. There is time. This week, we need not yet burst into an uncontrollable blaze. The Ten of Wands simply wants us to take the smallest actions necessary to keep our flame alive. To start from where we are, at whatever energetic disposition. We focus on the present. We gather kindling for the next spark. We carefully place the papers that mean something to us. We fill our bundles with sage and pine, scents that cleanse the spirit and nourish the soul. We stir the cinders, seeking hope, love, listening and support. Faith is our instructor, our promise to ourselves and to each other. And when we ignite, we will blaze with the optimism of a high noon sun, with the wisdom whispering through the leaves of elders, and the strength drawn up, renewed from a deep source of power below that propels us, tall and mighty, defiant, all-seeing collective truth, a forest of many trees who chose to grow together.

*Starhawk, City of Refuge (Califia Press: 2015), 3.
**Ibid, 536.

WHAT EVEN IS A TAROTSCOPE? We often think of horoscopes as predictions that are specific to each astrological sign. In Ancient Greek, the term horoscope simply means "I watch the hour." To astrologers today, a horoscope is a chart that maps the planetary bodies in the sky. From this chart, we derive meaning that can influence how we work with energy. Regardless of our unique individual charts, we are ALL working with the same energy from above. Each week, I examine this energy, pull a tarot card and write a guided meditation with the collective in mind. My tarotscopes are meant to be read as inspiration. Please note that because we are all operating with our individual energy, some elements will resonate more than others. Take what you like and leave the rest. Tarotscopes are offered freely in an effort to cultivate collective healing. I am always grateful for your support in sharing this work with anyone you think it might help. If you are inspired or find support here, please consider making a donation to help sustain these weekly offerings.