tarot work diary | the high priestess, two of wands, king of wands
tarot work diary is a new series in which I pull 3 cards a week to help me examine my creative and entrepreneurial life.
a summary
my pull for the week is an invitation to reexamine where I’m feeling blocked creatively (two of swords), and to use the power of the intuitive, unconscious feminine (high priestess) and the alchemizing fire of the masculine (king of wands) to transform discomfort and self-protective instincts — into the most critical and necessary art I can create.
card by card
the high priestess: an invitation into the unconscious feminine; embodying the deep and mysterious intuitive power.
two of swords: blocking creative flow with fear and fight instincts to protect the heart
king of wands: alchemy through burning creation — transforming what brings me discomfort, and externalizing it.
the high priestess: an invitation into the unconscious feminine
“The divinatory meanings of the High Priestess deal first with a sense of mystery in life, both things we do not know, and things we cannot know. it indicates a sense of darkness, sometimes as an area of fear in our lives, but also one of beauty. a period of passive withdrawal can enrich our lives by allowing things inside to awaken”
— Rachel Pollack, from Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom
when I think about the high priestess, I’m reminded of the first time I read Clarissa Pinkola Estés’s book, Women Who Run with the Wolves, during a time in my life when I felt such a strong pull to begin an initiation into “the wild feminine” — a place of darkness, sublime beauty, and deep, unexplainable, intuitive knowing.
at that time, I was twenty-five, and feeling suffocated by the paths and structures that I saw around me. this calling of the dark, unconsious feminine would completely disrupt my life as I knew it. I quit my job, left my first boyfriend of almost six years, and threw myself into the unknown. at twenty eight, I’d leave NYC, and travel for two years, living out of a backpack, withdrawing from the world, slowly centering into what it meant to be an artist.
seven years later, I find myself in completely different phase of my life. rather than flinging myself into the exhilarating freedom of the wild, now I’m thinking about building systems, foundations, and homes. I’m thinking about building wealth in all its forms; and of longevity of commitments to self, art, family, friends, and community. I’m thinking about what it’ll feel like to be a mother.
but, the invitation is the same.
the invitation of the high priestess is here to remind me: that even as I’m evolving into this new phase of being a woman — there, in the deep, unconsciousness of my psyche, is still where I can find my power; my inner compass.
I’m reminded that externalizing, sharing, and building concrete things in the world — must be fed by this deeper wisdom. deep intuition is my strategy.
reflection questions:
In what ways can I practice connecting with the energy of the High Priestess, on a daily basis — (even or especially in guiding my earthy pursuits?)
through journaling, meditation, poetry, walking, dreaming, sleeping, connecting with my cycle
where do I feel the most resistance to her wisdom and guidance?
when I get too caught up in the Swords arena of the mind — overplanning, or feeling guilty about not working (not resting))
when am I most sensitive to the energy of the high priestess?
I think - during my luteal phase, where I am as I write this, and through the first few days of my new cycle
two of swords: blockages of fear and fight
the two of swords feels like a person guarding herself against her own emotions — symbolized by the body of water, and the moon — both symbols resonant with High Priestess energy — using two swords constricted over her chest, and a blindfold. Rachel Pollack deconstructs these two elements in Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom:
“the blindfold here shows not confusion, but a deliberate closing of the eyes. The figure has tied it on herself so that she will not have to choose between friend and enemy […]
"they represent anger and fear creating a precarious balance; the one wants to strike out, the other wants to hide, and so the person remains tensed between them.”“paradoxically, the attempt to stop emotion makes a person more emotional, as she or he thinks and acts not from the centre but from the constricted chest, seeing not the world, but her own image behind the blindfold.”
Reflection Questions
when I think about this card, I’m asking myself:
what is it that I’m trying to protect myself against?
what do I fear, and want to fight — at the same time?
what messy emotions are simmering underneath — that I’m trying to keep a lid on, through avoidance or fighting?
who am I confused about — as friend vs. enemy?
where do I feel blocked, in my creative life, and how does that relate to my deeper subconscious?
There are three answers that emerge for me — where my flow feels blocked.
(1) Gender and Tango: The most obvious answer that’s emerging for me, right now, is around difficult relationships with men and masculininity. (Who hasn’t experienced this?). after a long hibernation, I started to dance tango again, and dancing tango in Istanbul, for me, is a direct confrontation with toxic gender dynamics, and power hierarchies. I’m confronted with extreme discomfort and hidden rage, and shadow work that I need to do — or release, perhaps, through a writing project of some sort.
(2) Writing: I also took a long break from writing, and returned to it this year — with similar sticky feelings of disorientation, overwhelm, and the feeling of having not done enough. despite having kept an ongoing writing practice for the last 10 years, the deepest part of my practice have been mostly private. hidden. maybe I’ve never given myself the space to interrogate my inner world as a writer — to go as deeply into it as I would like, because my life, up until very recently, has always felt on the brink of unraveling chaos.
or maybe, I was afraid to discover what I would find. perhaps, I avoided truly and deeply engaging with myself — on the page, and writing about the things that bring me the most discomfort and red hot shame: [gender dynamics, tango, toxic relationships, family, the feeling of deep alienation, melancholy/depression, existential meaninglessness.]
what if I let go of the swords that block my heart — in both of these domains? what if I untied the blindfolds? what would that look like?
being so deeply present with the practice and the discomfort. venturing to the dark depths, into the messy sticky goo, and emerging out, transformed.
king of wands: alchemy through burning creation
this is what the king of wands is about — an answer to my two of swords blockages. the king of wands is the power of creative fire and alchemy. just as the High Priestess is the feminine power that will guide me into the underworld, pulling out magical, glimmering fish from the abyss, the king of wands is the masculine figure that what will make sure I don’t stay in the abyss forever, but burn and transmute it into the external world — as tangible creations that I can share as a part of my world.
I love how Jessica Dore write about King of Wands in Tarot for Change, describing those most shameful, uncomfortable things as wildly fertile source material for burning.
“But if you can find some orange coal that really singes, something that makes you want to hide your face in shame, or rage like a wildfire at 0 percent containment, well, now you’re cooking. Now you’re in alchemist territory. And if you’re brave enough to go into these spaces, you’re activating the part of you that lives to transmute, that’s big King of Wands energy.”
“The more fiery, the more irrational, the more unreasonable, the better. You want to get underneath the part of you that knows not to feel something, past the scope of logic, down to the burning ember in your heart and mind”
The king of wands is what gives me a feeling of permission.
If the high priestess is about venturing into the deep, watery realms, the king of wands gives me the energy of fire — in an alchemical process of masculine force, steadiness, and conviction. The king of wands is what will make sure I finish writing the pieces I’m most afraid to write, and put it through the fire, and share it.
Reflection questions:
how can I transmute the unexpressed, repressed emotion I feel — through king of wands energy?
by connecting with my intention to burn. the energy of fire, which comes in wild forest flames. allow the simmering embers, but also the fast and furious.
what practices help me dance with the king of wands?
physical movement, focused sprint sessions, uninhibited, unfiltered expression)
where does my king of wands want to guide me?
to engage with the topics and subjects in my creative life that I’m most uncomfortable engaging with — (not “depleting”, but so messy it feels blocking).
integration
looking at the spread again, I see the two of swords as the central “dilemma” — a constriction of blocked emotions, blocked creativity, blocked flow, primarily through the intellect — and the powerful feminine and masculine forces that will guide me through. the high priestess is an invitation into the wilderness of the dark feminine, and a deeper embodiment of my intuitive power. the king of wands reminds me to take all tangled mess, and burn it, alchemize it into art, and no matter how uncomfortable, be unafraid of sharing it with the world.