Last week, we shed every last shell that could no longer contain us. We found new homes, nestling dreams in the sheen of broken abalone, proud of the possibilities brought on by blank space. This week, there might be a time to catch up to ourselves. To consider what was let go or what didn’t come through. To contemplate the resources we don’t seem to have that might make it okay. To survey the serenity we’ll need in order to get where we want to go next.

Sometimes grief speeds up, catches up to us because we couldn't slow down. Perhaps we tried to out-run it, letting the door slam in its face behind us. Sometimes it knocks for days or weeks on end while we pretend not to be home. We hide in the closet, we huddle in the attic. We shout at it to go away. We throw tantrums. But like a dear and determined friend in a dark time, it returns everyday; sits on the stoop in nonviolent protest. So we solemnly turn on the porch-light and leave the door unlocked. We admit it into ourselves, make it a cup of tea and a pocket in our pillow so we can sleep on it. We let it in because, despite the tender wounds it touches, grief keeps good company with comfort.

There is respite in the rose that wilts. There is elegance to the shedding of our egos. There is a winsomeness to losing something that really isn’t ours to hold. We’ve seen this time and time again on television screens, in books we can’t put down, songs of heartache belting out break-ups on the radio. When we experience loss, we feel we will be lost forever. Sometimes we sulk in our own invisibility. We idealize our hopelessness. We isolate to impress. We endure to appeal, to make ourselves believe we are worthy of our agony.

What if you didn’t have to be worthy? What if grace didn’t abandon you, in pain or in joy? What if spirit doesn’t leave you because you moved across the country? Because you got a new job? Because you lost your job? Because left your partner? Or they left you. What if you didn’t have to face yourself alone because you said a mean thing? Because you lied? Because you told the truth and they didn’t like it? Because they liked it? What if you still had a higher power without a partner? Without a home? What if there was something in this universe still gunning for you no matter what you do? What if you were blessed regardless of your situation? What if the Sun still streamed through stained glass and lit up your face while you whispered or whimpered prayers without wit or wisdom? What if you didn’t have to know what to pray for?

The Five of Pentacles is a physical conversation with our own grief. It is the work of engaging with sorrow. Often ushered in by the fear of admitting ourselves to ourselves. Occasionally accompanied by worry that the pain will last forever. Always followed by a helping hand, or a just right-sized shoulder to lean on, or even an exciting new challenge that that lifts us from grief like a gondola up a mountain. This week, let yourself look at anything you've given up in the past few weeks. Look at the sacrifices you made. Thank them. It's okay to feel the pain of what didn't work out. Perhaps the pain will show you what you want to pick up. Perhaps it will help you move right along. The Five cannot be escaped but letting yourself be enveloped within it offers perspective on high, a picture of the past, teensy as a base lodge when seen from a stunning summit. The Five teaches us about what comes with letting go. About losing in love but perhaps not losing love. About surrendering to sympathy while sitting in a hard place. If we offer it deference it will deal us a delicious dose of reverence. Take the time to taste it.

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.