Grief is a funny thing. Grief floods us after we’ve been emptied out. Fills us up when there’s nothing left to give. Contains us when we most need to be held. Overwhelms us when we’ve repressed too long and too hard. Grief, like a tidal wave, washes us into a pool of whatever we’ve shut ourselves away from but most need to receive. Grief asks us to listen to ourselves. To sit and to soften. To savor what is because it holds sacred teachings that instruct in temporary spells. Grief fills us with reality and transforms our awareness into radical acceptance before we can take any action.

The Five of Cups contains a medicine over which we are powerless. It is quick as it overcomes but sometimes slow to seep through. In the midst of Virgo season, we may be more apt than usual to self reflect, self-efface and self-sabotage. The Five of Cups bathes us in the possibility of loving ourselves through all the pain we have a part in causing. It shows us where we get in our own way so we can get out of it. It demands our presence and our patience. It offers apologies by cradling us close to ourselves. It eliminates the things and people that aren’t helping us anyway by making us wildly aware of what isn’t working.

This week, aim to cut into yourself with piercing kindness. If you find yourself face to face feeling like a failure, consider that it might be the universe’s way of saying you’ve become too big for your current cup. Rather that boxing yourself into limiting beliefs, bear the weight of your pain until you can find its wisdom. If you start every situation thinking you’re wrong, perhaps there’s something overtly wrong with your process. It’s possible that the only thing that’s wrong is that you think you can’t be right, or bright or brilliant. Remember that not every piece of you is dim. There is a story that is not black and white. Feel into the narrative that weaves along the unacknowledged parts of yourself that are strong and tireless in their work to keep you going. Notice the bottoms of your feet and the spaces between your fingers and underneath your kneecaps. Hold grief like a bird in the palm of an open hand. Delicately watch it with wonder. Thank it for its sacred service of showing you how magically profound you can be. How exquisitely you carve through your process. And when it takes off and flies away, relax your hand by your side while walking into the next set of waves rushing in with the cool clear medicine of water.

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.