Jan 23, 2021 | Tarot for Writers, Writing Advice
My preoccupation, lately, has been about my path. What is it, really? The question comes out of rupture: just the latest in a list of personal and societal ruptures that we have all been dealing with, for much longer than just the no-good-horrible-very-bad year of 2020. For me, this rupture came out of nowhere; it will move me in space and strip me of most of the basics that I have come to associate with my life for more than a decade and a half. But it also revealed to me, immediately, how much strength, support, kindness and love I still have around me and within me to forge a new path. Or, perhaps, to understand that all the trappings of daily life that I’d gotten used to were not essential to the path I am on.
Of course, I am not alone in this. I have been wanting to pull a card for the community in transition, in upheaval, in hope. I thought about pulling it on Thursday but was frankly too overwhelmed by all the gratitude emails filling my inbox. Then, I did not want to detract from Native American Heritage Day, or Small Business Saturday (if one has things to buy, this is the year to support small stores). But Sunday seemed to be a day without a directive affecting millions, so I pulled it today, with the question, “What is the Path?” and the answer is:
The Ten of Stones
I associate this card with wealth, completion, achievement and security. As the last “minor” card in the suit of stones, it indicates that our path toward manifesting our lives has been traveled, and we have arrived at success. But because this is the Shining Tribe deck, the card also points to spiritual wealth, a profound value in what life has given you, and the ability to transform through sharing your prosperity with others. That transformation, honestly, is something that has always scared me: in the image on the card, human footsteps lead into the rocks but come out as bird tracks. Not only do we not sit back and enjoy our luxury, we may become something entirely other: perhaps evolved, or awakened, but unrecognizable to ourselves.
Our strength, our success, our security…it’s not about what we built. It’s about preparing ourselves to let go.
As writers in the world, I am guessing there is something in my personal experience that you can relate to. And of course, for you, the card may be an acknowledgment that you are doing well, and that you have created something wonderfully successful. For all of us writers on the page, a couple of ideas for the work that this card raises:
Revision: Is there a transformation in your work, one that comes at a time when the reader might think that they know and recognize the end in sight? Are you coasting toward the expected finish line, or is there another level of understanding that you can kick your resolution into?
Visual Association: Think about a scene, or some aspect of your work, where there is a major change, transformation or epiphany. Then take the elements of that idea and correlate them to the elements in the image on the card. What is the barren landscape (the hopelessness or danger of the current situation?) What are the rocks? (The magic, the talisman, the possibility, the power that only the character can see?) What are the hidden clues – perhaps embedded in the text but not yet fully revealed – that will transform the potential (the suggestion of threads of light on the left side of the card) into the multicolored strands of pebbles on the right? And lastly, what kind of bird will emerge?
Happy writing!
Sep 23, 2020 | Events, Tarot for Writers, The Writing Life, Writing Advice
So I pulled a Tarot card today. This one, for us, in preparation for our virtual convening, The Grove. Honestly, I was hoping for something inspirational, something like The Star to indicate rebirth and a new beginning. I know – and I say it all the time – that there are no “good” cards, or “bad” cards, especially in the Shining Tribe deck, but in times like these, times when I feel like I am long past being able to process or accept one more curve ball from the news or my community, I will forgive myself for wanting a little bit of reprieve.
But the Tarot knows what it needs to say. Today’s card is the Nine of Birds.
Like the Star, this figure emerges from the realm of the dead – in this case, a burial mound. She stands at the entrance, accompanied by the wisdom of the owl, and equipped with a weapon which both and urn and a scythe. It’s a barren image, of grief and death and sorrow.
BUT. Isn’t that where we are now? Haven’t we been literally been surrounded by it for longer than we can fathom? One of the key messages of this card is that we are in the doorway, and we have our protections and defenses. But to move forward we have to process and acknowledge all our feelings. We have to accept our losses, and empathize with others’ suffering.
This is a card that calls for rituals of mourning and release.
I don’t know about you, but I am tired of shouldering all the burdens, fighting all the battles, and feeling so stuck in the process.
So the Nine of Birds, of course, is the Star’s shadow self, and a great plug for our intensive, creative, restorative gathering coming up on October 24-25th: The Grove. Four teachers and ten hours of rituals and techniques to clear away, reach for, and gather what you need.
And for those who aren’t coming, I encourage you to find a ritual for release. Clear a space where you can feel safe and let out something you have been holding. For me, these feelings immediately start my creativity swirling. If you need a more specific exercise for your creative project, imagine (possibly for your character if you have one, and if not, just embody a watcher/voice) the moment when “you” have risen out of the land of the dead, when the effort has been expended and all the emotions have surfaced – the moment that is too full to hold back anymore. Don’t forget, if you are writing a story, that quite often our characters don’t actually know what they want – they often fight against what they need only to arrive at the place they thought they didn’t want to be in. So this is a great moment for a narrative. It’s unstable; it needs to be embraced or emptied or it needs to explode. This might be the emotion right before or right after a major climax. On the other side is the new world, a new epiphany, a new possibility. We can’t see it yet, but it’s coming.
Come to The Grove if you can. Sign up for updates from the Two Trees Writers Collaborative if you want to hear more about our upcoming offerings. Stay safe and happy writing.
Nov 30, 2017 | Tarot for Writers, The Writing Life, Writing Advice
Sometimes I feel like my whole year has been in Mercury retrograde. With one thing after another, there has been a lot of waiting, a lot of postponing, and a lot of loss. I have been stuck—in situations that are not my choosing, with no path forward—and in talking with my friends and sister writers, I know I am far from the only one who would rather watch reruns of clips from The Voice (or Aquaman GIFs) than face my ever-growing list of things that just stubbornly refuse to get done. As we enter the holiday season, which has its own joys and challenges, it can be helpful to recall that, as writers, we have complete control over our tools and our voices. We don’t need anyone’s permission, or an infrastructure, or a legal ruling, or even an outside opportunity in order to write. So my current burning question for the Tarot is:
How do we get unstuck? To find my answers, I pull a single Tarot* card. I use it for insight, as a confirmation, to get around my blocks and habits, to take some risks and find some epiphanies. Often, it gives me an energy that I need to hold onto, so I put it on my altar. Today’s card is
The Knower of Rivers.
The Card: In the Shining Tribe Tarot deck, the Knower of Rivers is analogous to the Knight of Cups: a card of action, and also emotions and the subconscious. It follows the Place of Rivers: a place where we go to meditate, withdraw, and revitalize our emotions. The Knower comes out of this place renewed, ready for action, with the tools for success literally clutched in their hands. The card suggests power, and also victory (in the “seven” of the four figures and three fiery trees on the ridge). But this is a victory fueled by self-knowledge, and it comes from the courage to gaze deeply into oneself and “enter the deep and limitless waters” of our own mysteries.
So what does this card mean for you, as the writer? Embrace retreat. Of course, it is great to pull a card that promises action and transformation when your life feels like you are running in place. But this card reminds us of two things: First, change comes from within. This is not an external card, where success comes from wielding a sword or forcing an issue. The suit of Rivers is about intuition, and mystery, and dreams. It is intensely creative. It suggests that all the power you need lies within you. And forward motion comes, in part, from embracing the darkness you find there, accepting it, and transforming it into radiant light. This has been a really important reminder for me, since it is the darkness that makes me stuck: I don’t want to feel it or deal with it. But the darkness—our struggles as humans—is what gives our creative stories and images energy. Without it, there would be no plot, no vision that haunts your readers, no powerful connection to their own lives. To be writers, we need to tap that darkness. Second, you
are doing something. Sometimes the self needs renewal. All the “doing” that our society equates with progress can get exhausting, and hollow. “Being” is important too, especially for writers. We need to gather—our energy, our material—and since we do work on a subconscious level, we may not be aware we are doing it. So instead of thinking of ourselves as stuck, better to think of ourselves as resting. Retreating. Recharging. And to be open to just being very aware of what is going on around us, and the messages we find there.
How can you apply this card to your work? Relax. Open. Don’t try to escape. My exercise offering is designed to help you notice what you are experiencing and find a way to use it. In these times of unconscious gathering, you may be getting messages that you aren’t bringing into your conscious mind. You may even be actively blocking or resisting them. So we will mimic the journey that the Knower of Rivers takes. It is helpful to find a quiet place, where you can relax and release your mind. (Have something to write with handy.) If you find that your thoughts are racing and your brain is telling you that either you don’t have time for this or it’s all useless, be aware that those are defense mechanisms. As long as you don’t have a train to catch, you can give yourself ten quiet minutes. Deep breaths help, as does closing your eyes. Your mind does not have to become a perfect vacuum. There simply has to be enough space to allow some images or words to bubble up. Don’t chase them. Do imagine bubbles: let them rise, with ease, then let them go. See if something starts repeating. [For me, it’s been witches! For whatever reason, witches keep appearing in random tarot readings, in my email inbox, in conversations with friends.] Once you notice a pattern or a repetition, or even just one single image or word that has some energy behind it (even the energy of resistance or fear), you might know exactly what to do. If not, jot down some notes. When does this message appear? What emotions are associated with it? What archetypes? What colors? What size is this thing you are feeling? Where is it in your body? What words are associated with the image? What images with the words? Most likely, once you’ve made these notes you’ll have a direction to explore, but if not, the final step is this: Pick a pronoun and write: “She is… They are… It is…” (whichever pronoun you chose) and then follow that with
any associated or descriptive word from your notes above. [Such as, “She is red.”] Then freewrite a sentence to follow that. And another to follow that. I hope this exercise helps you get in sync with yourself and start feeling unstuck. Happy writing!
*In this feature, I’m working with The Shining Tribe Tarot: Awakening the Universal Spirit, created by renowned Tarot scholar Rachel Pollack, who taught me that the Tarot “is a vehicle to remind yourself of what you already know.” If you want to know more about the deck and its images, or have your own Tarot practice, here are the links.Jul 28, 2017 | Tarot for Writers, The Writing Life, Writing Advice
This last month has left me reeling. My father passed away suddenly, and what spins into that (as we raced across the country to say goodbye), and out of that (in the long process of settling and celebrating his life) is a lot to do and feel. Add to that that my novel, more than a decade in the making, needs a final edit on its way into the world (it will be published next May), and I have a 17-page editorial letter, a ton of great ideas that require some finesse and feeling, and only two weeks to get them done. The same two weeks that I have to plan my father’s memorial. So it may not be surprising that my burning question for the Tarot has a very personal impetus:
What to do when there is too much to do?
In this Tarot feature, I pull a single card* to find my answers. I use the card for insight, as a confirmation, to get around my blocks and habits, to take some risks and find some epiphanies. Often, it gives me an energy that I need to hold onto, so I put it on my altar. Today’s card is The Seven of Birds.
The Card: In this deck, the Birds is the suit of the Air. It signifies the mind and the spirit, as well as prophecy and information. It is the suit of art, and also – in its correspondence to the Swords in a traditional tarot deck – it offers us ways to transcend and transform sorrow and anger. Sevens also correspond to communication, which gives us a double dose of communicating for the writer. This is the card of boundaries, and the importance of drawing them clearly, and with song, which makes it perfect for today’s question.
So what does this card mean for you, as the writer?
Know what you want. Get what you need.
The image of this card is of two people working, individually but beside each other, according to the clear and mutual boundaries they are creating. Above them, birds have also claimed their territory, through song. Evoking behavioral bird studies, and Aboriginal land claims, creator Rachel Pollack introduces the idea of a song as a map. And what is a song, but a celebration, an expression, a story?
From this card, the message I am getting is that you can’t do it all, you can’t have it all, but every being in the card does have what they need and what they claim. A reminder of the common wisdom that you can only do so much, and that you have to prioritize, makes sense here. But sometimes, when there are too many balls in the air, we move instinctively to grab the ones that are dropping first. This card reminds me that I have a particular song to sing, and it has its own tone, and emotion, and story. What is my song and what do I want to sing? is a much more helpful, and more grounding, way to figure out how to go forward than What do I have to do and what’s about to collapse?
So how do we apply this card to our work?
Go back to the shape of your intention.
What does that mean? Well, in my case, not only do I have a lot going on in my life, I have a lot going on on the page: three narratives, three timelines, three locations. My final edit calls for moving some of these pieces around, while trying to track all the pieces to make sure they make it back in somewhere to do the work they were originally intended to do. I’m a big fan of the outline, and going back to the beginning to remember what I put in, where and most importantly why, is a help to me. But for today’s exercise, I want to suggest a trick that can help if you have so much going on in your story and your revision that you can’t remember or recognize what you set out to do.
Think of a shape you are familiar with. Possibly a song, a poem, a three act. Maybe, more radically, the structure of Catholic mass, or the architecture of a high-rise building, or the five stages of grief, as my colleague at Goddard College, playwright Kyle Bass, suggested at a recent residency. How does your work fit into that shape?
What is your ground floor/processional/first act? How does it fit the requirement of the new structure (to hold everything up, to move everything into the space)? What is being “denied” in your first stage of grief?
Or, going with the idea of song, think about how the elements of your work correspond with the elements of a song (even a symphony!) to “test” them and make sure they are there and doing the necessary work. Find your melody, your base line. Think about your verses and your chorus. Is there a bridge? What does the harmony sound like?
There are so many structures you can use to get fresh eyes and ears on your work, to help you when you are so close to your material that you can no longer see all of it for what it was meant to do. Use your “song” to help you identify, pare back, rearrange, and most importantly, remember the emotional journey you are creating for your reader.
Happy writing!
*In this feature, I’m working with The Shining Tribe Tarot: Awakening the Universal Spirit, created by renowned Tarot scholar Rachel Pollack, who taught me that the Tarot “is a vehicle to remind yourself of what you already know.” If you want to know more about the deck and its images, or have your own Tarot practice, here are the links.
