This Week's Writerly Tarot: Judgment

Don't worry. Despite this card's title, it isn't judge-y. If you are a writer or artist or creative person of any stripe, you have enough of that to deal with from your own Inner Critic.

No, this card refers to Judgment Day, the prophesied moment when the angel Gabriel sounds the heavenly trumpet and the dead rise again, clean and rested and rejoicing. As such, it is more properly titled Rebirth or Resurrection. It's also one of the Major Arcana, and as such is A Very Big Deal.

In other words, don't ignore this one. Like the trumpet call, it requires response. But first, it requires deep listening.

Clarion calls are not always easy to hear. Sometimes the noise and din of our daily lives drown out that clear ethereal tone, even one blown through an angel's trumpet.

Take a moment. Make yourself still and quiet, as silent as the grave. I know -- this can feel like death to people accustomed to accomplishing much, people with detailed to-do lists, people who Get Things Done. But it's the only way to hear that clean high note.

You will know it when you do. It will pull you with the force of magnetic north and full moon tides. It will require a powerful surrender, but if you choose to follow, it will be irresistible.

That sounds like a paradox, and it is. Ponder such if you will. And then get ready to do the work. Because work is required, and that puts some people right back into the tomb. Not all heed the call of purpose and joy. Some prefer to sleep as if dead and merely dream beautiful dreams.

But not you. I'm quite sure of that.

This week, the Universe is calling. It is a personal call, directly to you. You already know what it means. You already know the good work that is waiting for you, whether it's the page or the clay or the blank canvas. Choose it. Choose it now. Give it five minutes. Make it real. And feel the rush as if you were suddenly lifted on the wings of angels.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Ten of Swords

Let's get one thing straight -- nobody's gonna literally take ten literal swords in the back. Probably not anyway. The Swords are known for their sharpness, their double-edged efficiency, their ability to -- pun absolutely intended -- get to the point. But they hardly ever foretell a stabbing.

Regardless, we may feel as if we've got ten of them in the back. What to do?

First of all, take a deep breath (well, as deep as you can with a symbolically punctured lung). Due to the dual and often dramatic nature of the Swords, this card comes with a plethora of potentialities. Depending on the context, it can signal finality, betrayal, martyrdom, and/or overkill.

But there is one thing it writes large, no matter the context:

THE END.

This week, look around your creative space for something that is over, or in the stages of becoming over. This process might not be an easy one -- in fact, this Ten suggests that it isn't -- but it's happening. In my case, my editor just sent me her final notes for my current work in progress, and yes, it feels like ten blades skewering the corpus of my magnum opus. It's not, of course. I know this. And maybe tomorrow I'll be able to rouse myself off the beach of self pity, pluck the blades from my back, and move forward with the revision like the Big Girl I Am. Toward my very own THE END moment (which will be sweet, so very sweet, and worthy of champagne).

Because -- and this is the key to surviving a Ten of Swords moment -- there's a slice of gold on the horizon. Is it the setting sun, finally going down on a challenging episode in your life? Is it the rising sun, promising a fresh new start? It's both, of course. The sun goes neither up nor down -- we just circle it, our perspective ever-changing.

Today blades and rocks. Tomorrow the good work. This is the promise. Roll up your sleeves and stride out to meet it.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Six of Pentacles

Ah yes. This card.

Some tarot readers say the Six of Pentacles is the only card in the deck that reads the same way right side up as it does reversed. That is to say, it's a card of energy exchange, and as such, it describes a movement, not a static collection of pieces-parts. And movement, especially that guided by the hand of Karma, is hard to pin down into topside and otherways.

Things seem obvious in the image. It's easy to see who's giving (the rich guy) and who's receiving (the beggars at his feet). The scales are balanced. But the card asks you to look deeper. Exchanges never flow one way only, and the act of giving/receiving is no different. It is a relationship, a connection. It is reciprocal. We are all cogs in the Machine of Larger Cycles, each action a tiny whirring gear turning the giant wheels of time and space and human potential. Receiving fuels the engine as much as giving; they are both parts of the same clockwork.

I hear you saying, "Yes, but what does this have to do with my writing? Right now? No rich people with handy portable scales here. No golden coins hovering in the air either."

Well . . . no. We writers may traffic in symbol, but they rarely show up so blatantly in our mundane worlds. And you're so busy, what with all the planning and outlining and submitting and revising and -- you know -- putting actual words on the page, who has time to interpret such an image? Couldn't I just slap a nice inspiring Facebook meme up there?

Oh very well. Here.

Photo by OLU

As for the Six of Pentacles, remember -- no man is a self-made island. No woman either. With apologies to Blanche DuBois, we all exist on the kindness of strangers. For some people, giving is hard (see last week's post on the Five of Swords and scarcity mentality). For others, especially those accustomed to having enough to be a generous giver, receiving is way out of the comfort zone. Both are required, however. They are the yin and yang of everything. Every gift requires a recipient, and you do your part in the great infinity loop when you show up whole-hearted for both roles.

Writers share time and words with readers; readers share time and money with writers. Writers share encouragement with each other, and sometimes more concrete gifts -- a recommendation, a review, a hand up the ladder. We celebrate the sold-out signing and commiserate when That Guy on Amazon writes an addle-minded review.

This week, consider all the actions of giving and receiving that you participate in. Be conscious in them. Be fully present for them in all their joy and squinchiness. There may be a beneficence coming your way. Or an empty hand extended. Or you may be the one reaching out in one fashion or the other.

Regardless, you know what to do. Take a deep breath. You got this.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Five of Swords

Uh oh.

That's all I can say for us this week, writerly folk. Nobody likes to see the Five of Swords pop up. Indeed, the Swords as a whole are renowned for their double-edged ways. Swing them with proficiency and precision, and they're dead useful -- swing them with malice and/or clumsiness, and they're dead dangerous. Which is to be expected for a suit associate with all things mental -- to paraphrase the old saying, a mind is a terrible thing to let loose without any balance from the heart or body or soul.

So now we have the Five, traditionally associated with slander and betrayal, with dirty deeds done and not a small amount of gloating. Also winning. Lots of winning going on here, though it will come at a price, you betcha.

So what to do? Our first impulse is to watch our backs, be on guard for Those Who Have It In For Us. And, okaaayyyyy, there's something of that in this card.

But let's look deeper for a second, shall we? This energy exists only if one has a scarcity mindset, which goes some like this: there's only so much pie, better grab my slice. In the creative world, this translates into only so many readers, only so many good reviews, only so much attention, better grab my slice.

No. Just no.

Being creative is to participate in abundance. The well will not run dry. Do not be envious of others' successes (not even E.L. James's). Do not schadenfreude over others' come-uppances (not even E. L. James's).

Tap your source. Do your work. Honor your process. Share and receive. Let Karma, the Great Mistress of Tit-For-Tat, write the rest of the scene.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: Strength

There are times when you need to push hard and push fast, muster every ounce of willpower you have and exert it with force and discipline.

This week is not one of those times.

This week calls for Strength, a card the demonstrates a more nuanced approach to control, one that might not come easily to mind when confronted with an angry lion. Slavering beasts with pointy teeth bring out the "gotta get that thing in a cage, and quick" mentality.

But notice the woman of this card. No whips, no chairs. She's not combative, not demanding. The lion does not resist her touch; indeed, the creature seems almost tame. How does she do it?

The key is soft control, and that begins with compassion and empathy. Despite their reputation, these are muscular responses, hence the title of this card. The infinity sign above her head is another important clue as to the meaning here -- the quality of mercy is not strained; neither is it finite. There is always an abundance to tap, if we can learn to open our hand and let it flow.

What in your life are you trying to beat into submission? A project, an attitude, a fear? Strength reminds you that the most impressive muscle at your disposal is your heart, not your biceps. Stop wrestling your demons. Befriend them. Pluck whatever thorns you can find from their paws. You might find that monster in need of defeating is actually a pussycat.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The King of Wands

Are you a mover and shaker this week? Or perhaps you feel more among the shaken and

moved? Either way, meet the gentleman* responsible for whatever seismic goings-on are rumbling in your world, especially your creative one.

Kings are the cards of action, of exterior, of the wide world. They are the bringers of expertise and resources, the ones who grease the wheels. Wands are the suit of creative energy, the fire and passion that burns within us, the energy we release whenever we put our talents to work. The King of Wands is will made manifest, and as such, he has little time for logic-debating or day-dreaming or detail-obsessing. He's a "get on with it" kind of man.

So your question this week is simple: are you the actor in this situation, or are you the acted upon?

In creative endeavors, we find both types of energy. Being a writer is often solitary work. Most days, you are your very own boss, for better or worse, and the King of Wands urges you to seize the day, make your mark . . . all those fiery masculine activities that are sometimes difficult for people accustomed to working from a desk. Fix your crown firmly on your head, make your plans, and move forward as if the seas of the world will part before you. That's the King of Wands way.

However . . .

There are days when you're not the King. Creative fields have many kings -- editors and agents, publishers and critics -- who often have sweeping control over your life, and the best you can do some days is avoid getting your head chopped off (which is a massive accomplishment, don't ever forget). Of course some days you are granted an audience, an opportunity you must make the most of. Kings can be headstrong, hard to influence, as difficult to turn as a hurricane. But do try. This King may burn fearfully bright, but under the right circumstances, he is as generous with his fire as Prometheus.

Some days you are the King. Some days you meet the King. In either case, remember: forward ho, and hold your head up high.

*In the tarot, Kings represent a very masculine energy, but in the real world, that energy can be expressed by any gender. 

Writerly Tarot for the Week: The Ace of Swords

You know what you need? You need a breath of fresh air. And a giant sword.

Here you go! You're welcome!

It's a bracing bit of cool logic, the Ace of Swords, and if your writerly week is starting out anything like mine, you'll want to grab it with both hands. Careful, there. The Ace of Swords is not for show. That blade cuts true and deep and swift. You'll want to bring all your carefully honed attention into play before your wrap your fingers around that hilt.

But once you've got it in hand, once you've tested its heft and edge, here are some tasks you can put this fine piece of steel to:

* Feeling muddled and confused? This Sword will cut through any nebulous gray funk gathering in the corners of your brain like so many cranial cobwebs. Swish and swish! Now doesn't that look brighter? You know better than anyone else what cleans your mental clock (in a good way, I mean). Yoga. Meditation. Sudoku. Get some of whatever works. Get it now.

* Somebody looking to pick a fight with you? This week, a sharp tongue and a rapier wit are yours for the brandishing. One word of warning -- this Sword is particularly sharp, and not especially merciful. Thick twice before you swing it.  I suggest you take your mental and verbal acuity to the page. Let your characters slice and dice each other -- spare your friends and family the bloodletting.

* Having a hard time maintaining boundaries? Finding time? Setting priorities? The Ace of Swords will cut through the clutter, carve out time and space. It will do it clean. But it will not always do it painlessly. Writers often require solitude and separateness to do their deep work, and this Sword will prove an excellent tool in that endeavor. It will provide. Just don't forget to put it back in its scabbard when the work is done, so that your nearest and dearest know it's safe to approach. But keep it sharp regardless -- remember that old kitchen adage about dull knives being the most dangerous? The same is true of swords.

All in all, the Ace of Swords is an auspicious card for any mental endeavor, especially those involving rationality and logic. It's a whoosing rush of pure brain power, and it fuels communication both written and oral. Just remember -- this is a blade that cuts both ways. Wield it with respect. Use it wisely. And don't fall too much in love with its shiny slicing prowess.