dark, light, gift

a wintery, solstice-y spread

The framework for a simple tarot spread came to me in the shower today (as interesting ideas often do). It's a day late but this is somewhat solstice themed, and also more broadly winter themed. In the past I’ve been known to take on longer, more complex spreads for the solstice. But this year simplicity feels right. As I’ve been doing lately, I’ll pull some cards for myself and offer them up if they happen to ring true to you. Perhaps after that you’d like to try the spread for yourself?

Oh and also: I support rebellion, so if you’re in the southern hemisphere or stumble upon this post at a different time of year, perhaps you might still partake.

I’m turning once again to my soul deck today, the Spacious Tarot.

First, in the dark position, we have the Four of Swords. This…makes so much sense to me. What is difficult right now? Getting my thoughts in order. Maybe you can relate? It’s partly the season: getting and wrapping gifts, planning meals, winding down the year, making lists and checking them twice.

In a broader view, it’s difficult to make sense of the entire damn world right now. Four is a number of structure, swords are the mental realm. So the Four of Swords can be about understanding. The ability to explain something clearly. That moment when everything clicks into place and you have a clear picture.

That’s not my experience of observing the world right now, though. Things seem extra violent and dark. As much as I crave a clear understanding, it isn’t there. Many things do not make sense. There is no solid theories to explain the way things are.

But even though this is the ‘dark’ position, in a way I think this is a good thing too. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is say “this doesn’t make sense, I don’t understand this, and I’m never going to.” Our human minds like to have rationalizations for everything. Going against that urge to rationalize something that truly cannot be rationalized is difficult but at times necessary.

For light, we have the Eight of Cups. This phrase comes to me:

new ways of being are always revealing themselves to you.

I certainly believe this. In fact, this is an undercurrent that is always present in my tarot practice. Tarot itself is always new. You see the same cards but always revealed in a new context: a specific spread position, next to a contrasting card, in a different deck. You see the same cards but in one instance you are more drawn to a color, or a particular aspect of the composition, or a subtle symbol you’d overlooked previously. Tarot is always new, and it is always revealing new ways of being.

This card is very welcome, especially after the more rigid messages of the Four of Swords. The imagery for this card is still dark, but the crescent moon winks at the new ways of being that are always emerging. At the same time old ways of being fade away. Something is always concealed. And lately, I think I’ve been directing too much energy towards what is concealed. Because at the same time, something is always revealed.

So what exactly is this light? What precisely is this new way of being that is revealing itself? I WANT TO KNOW. I want to define it (Four of Swords energy still at play, am I right). But the Eight of Cups now feels less about identifying a new way of being in a definitive way, and more about being open to how this organically flows. This isn’t something else that can be added to the to-do list we mentioned earlier. It is something that only comes from openness and presence and feeling into what draws you.

In the gift position I have reversed Five of Pentacles. My lord. I believe the gift here is: you don’t have to carry everything alone. None of us do. The imagery for this card shows a lone wolf with an injured leg scaling a muddy hill. But there is support visible on the horizon. In this moment it occurs to me that the wolf is close enough to make some noise and be like “HEY! You up there. I need help.” And maybe that help is just waiting to be summoned.

In the ‘dominant culture’ we still encounter a lot of messages of ‘rugged individualism’. Like, life is hard but just pull yourself up by your bootstraps and you’ll make it through! Even those of us who have done some work to dismantle these messages can still sometimes have moments of shame that we aren’t able to keep pushing up that hill. So maybe the gift is the willingness to shout out: “this sucks and I need help.” Let someone listen. Let the support come to you. Hell, demand the support come to you if you have to.

And the reversal of the card makes me think the gift goes both ways. Isn’t the Christmas season, in theory, supposed to be about helping those in need? So if you’re the one who HAS the resources to offer, do that. If you know someone is struggling don’t wait for them to ask. Choose something specific and give it. I cannot recall where I came upon this advice, but the idea is that when someone is in dire straits it can be difficult for them to form a request. So instead of something open ended like “how can I help,” specificity is key (“I’ll bring a pot of soup Wednesday” or “I’ll make tea and sit with you for an hour tomorrow”).

Did that sound too lecture-y? I do not enjoy sounding like I’m giving a lecture when I’m reading tarot, but sometimes it comes across that way. Phew.

So there we have it. De-centering the urge for rationalization. Feeling into new ways of being as they take shape and form. Asking for and offering support. A few messages to carry into the season. They are useful for me and I hope they may be of value to you as well.

Truly wishing you the best this solstice and beyond, friends.

Carrie