Walking with The Hermit

Sometimes, I pull The Hermit in the morning, before I fill my water bottle, pack my lunch, pull on my shoes, and leave for the day. In those moments, I feel puzzled. I question the pull, annoyed that my deck would be so cheeky as to offer me a vision of stillness amidst the revolving plates of my to-do list, with family in town, a holiday trip to pack for, and oh yeah, that historical novel I’m supposed to be writing in my free time.


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Exploring Gender Representations in Tarot

I turn the card over slowly. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m pulling cards with my friends, as we do each year. This is the last card I’m pulling, and it’s for me. The King of Swords. For myself, I tend to not read the booklet that comes with the deck. But, for my friends, I enjoy the little descriptions written in the guidebook. I’m taken aback for a moment when the author refers to the king with she / her pronouns. Immediately, I feel a deeper connection to the card.

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Becoming The Fool

“I take a look around my inner-scape and all I see is decimation,” I tell my therapist. Think: abandoned brutalist architecture, dystopian film, Chernobyl. For over a year, I could not harbor any life or laughter within myself. But last you left me, I had championed through, taken some lessons from the Death card, and leapt into my Fool era — which, let me tell you, has been a fantastic time.

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