A friend reached out in response to my last post, offering thanks for sharing vulnerably. She reminded me that sharing publicly can be something I do for myself, too… I forget that sometimes. I’m relearning how to show up for myself, and I’m realizing that this space can help me do that. (Thank you for the reminder, Karen.)
It also occurs to me that I’m probably not the only one navigating how to show up in this wacky reality we live in. I hope that sharing what that looks like for me might help someone else feel a little less alone.
Even after opening a waitlist earlier this year, I’ve been hesitant to offer tarot readings. I think a large part of my reluctance to opening my books has been a fear around repeating a cycle of burnout and letting other people down. My mental health and wellbeing has improved greatly in recent months, but I’m still acquainting myself with what I need to feel— and stay— steady. I used the “juggle 14 projects at once” approach to making a living for so long, and now I’m finding myself scared to commit to anything.
Y’know… There’s something about saying so that feels freeing. Like, oh yeah. This is hard because it’s new, and it’s kinda scary to try new things in front of other people.
I decided to keep the same luna card for this lunation since it occurred within the same sign as the last one (and because I didn’t select it until more than a week after the previous new moon…). The card? The Sun— Sekhmet in Ellen Lorenzi-Prince’s Dark Goddess Tarot:
An internet search on The Sun will return results saying that it means optimism and success, positivity, freedom, fun, enthusiasm, joy; a light after the darkness of The Moon. And from a divinatory perspective, that checks out. The Sun is associated with the sign of Leo, and that fiery exuberance is evident in many of its depictions.
But one thing I appreciate about the choice of Sekhmet for The Sun in the DGT is the goddess’ relationship to destruction:
Once in full fury, she cannot and will not be stopped, although the now terrified gods plead with her. Ra regrets his spite. The sun god thinks to dye beer with ochre to resemble blood. Seven thousand vats of the red beer are set in the path of the goddess. Sekhmet mistakes the beer for blood, drinks it all down, becomes intoxicated, and turns to seeking joy instead. Some say she becomes the goddess Hathor after this, that the Celestial Cow, beloved lover, mother, and muse, is her sweet side, as Sekhmet is Hathor’s dark side, the mother’s righteous rage.
When I fell face-first into the floor last week? What I didn’t mention is it was immediately below the altar where I keep my luna card. Broken serpent/ouroboros septum ring, scraped and bloody nose, on my hands and knees before Sekhmet (yes, that’s a cobra she’s wearing).
I’m sharing all of this because, just a few days prior to this unintended offering I had faced an unexpectedly huge tax bill, and (after freaking the fuck out about it for a good while) I wrote a little affirmation for myself and set it on top of my altar: I accept this opportunity to shine. I proceeded to record my first podcast episode and see if I could conjure up the self-confidence to open my tarot books.
You can imagine I got a good chuckle out of that affirmation the next day with my bloody nose and blocked appendix. :)
I place The Sun in the Ecosystem of Will, as one of The People of Illumination. I seems I’m learning how to shine as myself despite (because of?) destruction— even if I don’t know how, even if it’s scary.
So, if you haven’t already— or even if you have and you just want to do it again because you love visiting a landing page— I invite you to join my waitlist if you’d like to know when I’m opening my books for readings:
Thanks for reading, friends. 🖤
Until next time,
sara
P.S. Did you select a luna card? I’d love to know who you’re walking with this lunation. What are you learning how to do?