The Daughter of Swords offers an ability to hear with heart and soul. She pours the simplest syrup into her divination, attaching no meaning to her visions because there’s so much to see when she’s not meddling with her mind. She’s unafraid to explore the night-time noises because she doesn’t have a record of wrestling with gremlins. She’s like the innocent child who says hello to the stranger, or asks why your mustache has food in it, or where the sky comes from and how the night turns to day. She kindles curiosity wherever she camps, firelight burning bright behind eyes as she delights in a flame she doesn’t know can hurt her. The Daughter of Swords’ innocence, in the realm of our madness, is a gift. Her naïvety prevents her from judging. Her eagerness to extend her mind makes fresh tracks that can be followed later by learned philosophers. For the Daughter, the name of the game is asking to excite, stating to stimulate, concerning to connect rather than considering to separate.

The Moon is the missile we don’t want to miss. The explosion beneath the surface invisible to superficial spectators which unhinges our most otherworldly components. The moon is our madness and our mad scientist. It is the shadow of sacrifice and suffering arising from scary distortions under strange light. It is a portal to our privacy and the chaos within it. The Moon tosses us in the loony bin so we can learn from our laughability. So we can hoot and howl and hack up a lot of our wacko. So we can accept the elements of ourselves we’ve shoved and shunned and deemed most unacceptable by a public whose certain strain of prudence is probably more impractical than our passion. This week we are stirred to sit in that little eerie glow so we can feel a lot calmer about our own capacity for creepiness. The Moon represents us at our wit’s end, at which we are arguably most human - or at least most mortal. Our expressions under the light of the moon reflect the things we would do if we weren’t so worried about the problem that pitches our pride against our primal drive.

This week, spend some time with the lost boy inside who’s lost his shadow. When you find it, grab the handful of Wendy’s hands to help you in between the seams and stitch yourself back to never grown up. Get giddy in the dark with the magic that unfolds there. No matter which neverland enchants your child, fly for the second star to the right and straight on till morning calls you home and you’re free to croon with the moon. If you’re hooked, muster up some mischief that makes friends with any kind of mess. Cook up a big pot of pixie dust to help you fly far above all your internal crooks. Give yourself permission to get off your rocker instead of getting it right and watch where you’re internal kid shows up for the tough stuff with more muscle than a crocodile who swallowed a tic toc clock.

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.