Like Sunlight Through Stone

Interpersonal relationships can be challenging when expectations aren't met, and this can be further exacerbated when communication channels becomes muddied. Attempting to match up the puzzle pieces of disparate experiences, to get on the same page or find common ground, can prove at times to be quite difficult; sometimes the pieces just don't fit. But there is often room for a little ambiguity; space for many truths to sit together at once. An open heart and still mind may embrace the wholeness of that union (or dichotomy, you might also call it).

The Queen of Swords is a natural expert at this: balancing clarity with caring, seeking to understand while also maintaining gentle-but-firm boundaries; searching for truth amidst emotional turmoil, but never discounting another's perceptions.

Tarot of Vampyres; Ian Daniels

When I pulled this card yesterday morning I was immediately jarred by the raven on this Queen's shoulder because it pierced my dream memory; I was visited by such a bird in my sleep. It was large in size and I only recall being uncertain if it was a crow or raven, but based on its beak shape I'd been fairly certain that it was the latter. Perhaps it was a messenger.

As I was pondering the Queen of Swords' gifts of perception, and her ability to lock onto the most important undercurrents of a given situation, I suddenly thought of a new stone I acquired several days prior. It is called "strawberry obsidian" (if I understand correctly it is a manufactured stone, something along the lines of goldstone or blue sandstone). I picked up a piece and it felt nice in my hand - smooth, cool, bright but in a muted sort of way. And then I held it up to the store lamp and it was like a whole other world opened up before me. The light illuminated the stone's inner workings so brilliantly that it took my breath away, lightened my heart, and I knew I wanted to bring it on home.

The Queen of Sword's essence reminded me of that moment. Like sunlight though stone, situations that seem opaque when grasped closely may reveal all of their complex layers and delicate filaments when we are willing to hold them up to the light.

Perhaps it doesn't matter so much if we can't find a measure of common ground. What matters is that we don't hide from truth; that we open our hearts to understanding. Our openness and willingness is an invitation for those puzzle pieces to be brought back into alignment. And if it is still not enough, then what matters is finding peace with that incongruity.

Interestingly as I was looking deeper into the dream raven, I came across this phrase:

"Raven will show you how to go within in yourself, into the dark areas and then illuminate them, making you ‘sparkle’ and bringing out your true self. Inner conflicts should then be resolved, however long buried they are – this is the deepest healing." (Click here for the site)

And with that the circle was complete, the message filled out: the Queen, and the stone, and Raven's presence in my dream all symbolic of the search for clarity, the at times painful willingness to shine light into the dark, to understand, to express, to heal, and ultimately to release back into the universe.

The Need for Mothering

This morning I was feeling rather tender. Well, to be honest, I was feeling a bit tender last night as well. That sort of ambiguous sensitivity that makes you want to shut the door on the world, curl up in a ball, and drink loads of tea. It is subtle, though, that feeling; it creeps in around the edges of consciousness, such that each movement in the process of dressing, or in the simple preparation of toasted bread, becomes ever so slightly heavy. And then, *ah* - an inner acknowledgment that what I needed more than anything was to be mothered.

I wanted Ochun and Yemaya to bathe me in sweet and briny waters. I wanted to curl up in honeyed arms, and have my hair stroked by firm and gentle ocean hands.

I wanted mothering. So when I brewed my morning tea I added elder berries to the herbal mix. Elder has always felt like the earthiest and most prototypical mother tree. Perhaps it's because it tends to so many common ailments, like coughs, colds, and the flu. Perhaps it is because nearly the entire tree offers itself up for our wellbeing.

As it steeped I continued my last few tasks in preparation for the day ahead, and just before heading back to the kitchen to pour myself a steaming travel mug full of herbal blessings I decided to pull a card from the Tarot of Vampyres (which generally sits out on my bedside table). I shuffled briefly, and I cut with one hand; I didn't ask a question, I simply poured my sentiments, like tea, into the cards. And then, there was the Empress, reflecting back to me my needs and desires, and letting me know that in one way or another, she had her arms around me.

I Know This Much Is True

Yes, you may have to face conflict, and I know that you don't prefer that.

But you have a panther inside of you.

Try not to suppress its essence; rather,

let it breathe with your breath.

Don't walk away.

Yes, you will have to wander through the deep unknown,

and uncover parts of yourself that you didn't realize were there.

You'll feel afraid from time to time, but don't give up.

This is death

and it is birth.

You are becoming you.

Your fire will lead you onward.

This is not a mask you must learn to wear;

it is a power you were always meant to wield.

Contemplating "Home"

Since writing the Samhain post about honoring my grandfather, Giuseppe, the other day, I've been thinking about the concept of "home." He moved around a lot, was an immigrant a few times over, and when I was younger I found some sense of pleasure out of the description my mother gave our family as "nomads." Yes, we have appeared to have a sort of "itch," it seems.

Since our immigrant ancestors, we've ever been on the move. At first perhaps it was due to the pursuit of better economic conditions, but is there something more? A constant search for a feeling of "rightness" and belonging?

Last night I was watching an episode of the Originals (a vampire show) and the topic of "home" popped up. Two of the characters were discussing how fiercely they would defend their right to live in their home city, and I thought, "I don't know what that feels like." To be so connected to the place where you live that you would fight to stay there. So I decided to pull some cards about it. I didn't ask a clear question, I simply held this idea in my mind as I shuffled ("What is home, and how does a lack of home impact me? How do I find home?"). I pulled:

8 of Grails/Cups - Judgement rx - 10 of Skulls/Pentacles rx

Tarot of Vampyres

The 8 of Grails was fitting, since it is a card of movement, of dissatisfaction or lack of fulfillment. It's about going on a journey. There is something here of the nomad experience. The 10 of Skulls is the quintessential "family legacy" card - what do you pass down to future generations, and what have you received from your own ancestors? It's a card a closely associated with the essence of a family's material being and presence. And in the center lies Judgement, provoking so many questions I don't even know where to begin.

I live in central Florida now, but I was born on the east coast, and spent my early years between Connecticut and Rhode Island. At about kindergarten age my natal family moved to Michigan, and for nine years I lived in one town, moving to another (very different) city for the next eighteen years. Then my husband and I packed up our things and our kids, and drove into the deep south. You might think that Michigan would have been that "home" for me, but I felt discontented there despite having lived in that state for most of my life. It didn't feel like home, though it was certainly very familiar.

And while there have been many wonderful aspects about life in our "new" state, I don't feel at home in Florida either. So I ask myself:

Will we always keep moving on in search of a place that feels right? If so, we will never provide that land-rooted legacy for our future generations; instead ours will be a legacy of the nomad, the pilgrim, the wanderer. 

And if we always search, are we destined never to find? 

Is the answer in the act of deciding to stay rooted to a place, to not move even when we feel discontented? 

Is the answer in the realization that our legacy moves within us and doesn't need to be anchored; that perhaps our legacy itself is in our movement?

Is there perhaps no answer at all? 

Perhaps this is the legacy of all immigrants who lose their connection to ancestral lands. There is something to be said for the "family oversoul" - those gentle energetic ties that connect us to our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and beyond. As I did a cursory search of my own blog I found that for last year's Samhain post I had a "conversation" with my grandmother (who passed on thirty years ago) and the 10 of Pentacles was the heart of the draw. It's interesting that it has come up again almost exactly one year later. In the context of that post the focus was on honoring and reuniting family - the idea that home is where the largest grouping of multigenerational family is. A year ago we were considering moving back to Michigan since my mother and step-father are still there. And yet we are still here, with no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.

I sometimes imagine how our family's oversoul impacts me, us. Does my grandfather's wandering nature wield a more forceful vibration through the generational lines? His children, whose American bloodline epicenter lies in Connecticut, are now in Michigan, Tennessee, and Florida. Two of them are fairly regular world travelers. Their children are in England, New Zealand, Alaska, Saudi Arabia, Boston, Florida, California. The net is cast ever wider. Most of those are world travelers as well.

So is "home" in the people, or in the land? Is it in both? How do we recapture a sense of belonging - to each other, to a particular part of the earth? Or do we not? Do we simply restructure, rebuild, reconfigure family "legacy"? Do we start over, honoring the past and releasing it? I don't know, but I'll be sitting with this for time to come.

Embracing the Knight of Swords

The task for Day 28 of the Shadow Work October challenge (hosted on Instagram by @mnomquah) is: 

Caregiver. What do I have to offer? 

Last night I pulled the Prince of Knives from the Tarot of Vampyres and I was mystified. I had just written earlier that same day that I rarely see myself in the Swords courts, and yet there it was. I put it aside. This morning I thought I might see what Morgan Greer would have to say about it, and as I shuffled a card came flying out at me: the Knight of Swords. I laughed. The cards had made their point.

Tarot of Vampyres and Morgan Greer Tarot

I had to sit with this one for a while, but as I delved deeply into the energy of this card I found that I could see myself reflected there - both a surprising and revealing experience for me. I don't love to debate, and I am rarely sharp with my words. I am not reckless, nor do I move particularly quickly.

But there is far more to it than that.

This Knight is intellectual and analytical, articulate and perceptive. He is creative and knowledgeable, honest and clear-minded. He finds solutions and helps others to see past outdated patterns of thought. And as I thought about it I realized that people do come to me for problem solving, and they trust me with advice when it comes to approaching complex matters. They ask for my opinion and believe me to be fair, not influenced by politics or personal preferences. I write, and once in a while I hear from strangers who approach me to let me know that some post helped them understand a card better, or was affirming for them in its openness and honesty. So I suppose that this is what I offer others, though I had never really thought about it this way before... This one deserves some further meditation.....!

A New Moon Reading

For day 13 of the October Shadow Work challenge, the wrangler, Mnomquah, tasked participants with a New Moon reading:

The positions (and the cards I drew for myself) are as follows:

1) The Light - what you know and accept about yourself: Chariot
2) The Shadow - what is hidden from you about yourself: 10 of Swords
3) Why you fear your Shadow - what is preventing you from seeing or accepting your Shadow: Strength
4) Why you should embrace your Shadow - what are the positive sides of the Shadow that would benefit you? 7 of Swords reversed
5) How to integrate the Shadow into the Light - what steps you should take in order to accept your Shadow: 5 of Swords reversed
6) The Outcome - the possibilities if you succeed in bringing the Shadow into the Light: Sun and Judgement

Tarot of Vampyres

I have two cards for #6 because I had a "jumper" as I was thinking about that card position. So I've placed both the jumper and the additional card that I selected for that position, as partners.

As I pulled the cards the story that unfolded before me became more and more clear. I said in a previous post that each day of this challenge seems to offer a bit more detail that slowly helps me understand the bigger picture. It continues to be true here.

The fact that my shadow is represented by the 10 of Swords is very fitting. This is the card I pulled as representative of my month of October, and for this entire month I'm working each day with my shadow.

Tarot of Vampyres

I've already identified that part of this shadow work relates to reclaiming my personal power, and also that a predominant emotion that has emerged for me is sadness. When I saw the combination of the Chariot (as my light) and the 10 of Swords, I felt a very familiar sensation: that of powering past pain. The figure on the Chariot is aggressive and determined; nothing will stop him from achieving his goals. In the 10 of Swords I see (and feel) pain. This vampire woman has been knifed right in the solar plexus and lies agonizingly across a four-poster bed. It's interesting because this is often a card of being "stabbed in the back" and yet the source of my own pain often centers in the solar plexus. These cards represent two aspects of myself: the part that has experienced sharp, deep pain, and the part that insists on riding past it as swiftly as possible, hurrying away from the suffering as fast as my beast will take me; refusing to spend any more time in that dark space than is absolutely necessary. I will myself to move on because I can't bear the idea of lingering.

I've always been a very happy person. I am a peacemaker. I seek to understand and honor others. I tend to see the best in people. I am more trusting than suspicious. I want to heal others and make them happy. Joy is part of my essential nature, a core foundation of my soul. Throughout my life, from the time I was a very small child, I've had a visceral opposition to negativity, but most particularly to feelings of sadness or despair. Over a year ago I wrote a blog post for the Litha Blog Hop called "Joy and Shadows" in which I discuss how difficult it has always been for me to process sadness.

But as you grow up, you do experience pain, and some of it can feel unbearable at times. My instinct is to power past it. To distract myself through the worst of it, and to move on as quickly as possible, most especially when I feel betrayed and shamed. My desire has always been to let the difficult memories fade with time until they become nought but occasional and brief recollections of another era.

So the Chariot, my aware-self, streams past the shadow-pain of the 10 of Swords, using its pure Will to force the grief undercover.

Tarot of Vampyres

Card 3 represents what prevents me from seeing or accepting my shadow, and I pulled Strength. At first look this might seem strange: how would embodying strength, compassion, or resilience keep me from dealing with pain? And on one hand there is something to be said for the consequences of my desire to smooth things over, to bend over backwards being compassionate to the people who have hurt me, trying to understand others to the point of undervaluing my own experience. There is something potent there. But there is also another side: the Chariot, my light, is about hard control - using force and determination to get what is desired. It is externally oriented, it's about what you (and others) can see. Strength is about soft control, and it's internally oriented. In Strength, the black panther symbolizes this woman's fierce inner power, fully integrated. What that means to me is that by avoiding pain, I'm avoiding the opportunity become fully integrated with my own divine power. And that has been a major element in my shadow work.

The 7 of Swords reversed speaks to why I should embrace my shadow - the positive aspects that my shadow might afford me. This says that confronting, sitting with, accepting, working with (instead of against) my shadow is the ultimate act of honesty with myself, of reclaiming my power. It allows me to see who and what I am, to realize that I'm truly capable of making the changes that I want to see, of embodying the fiery qualities that I know I possess in my soul.

Position 5 deals with how I might integrate the shadow into the light, and I pulled the 5 of Swords reversed:

Tarot of Vampyres

I often think of this as the "bully card." What I really like about the imagery here is that in its inverted position (which is how it appeared) the prostrate girl changes positions with the demon. Upright the demon hovers over the young lady like a dark cloud, but reversed, she returns to the light. Symbolically this shows a turning of tides, a reversal of the difficult qualities of this card where the victim becomes the victor. This card suggests letting bygones be bygones, however in order to do that I need to give myself time and space to review my past. If I don't become fully aware of what I'm avoiding, it will follow me like... a shadow!.... right on into the future. The time is here to let go: have I truly forgiven my trespassers? What does it mean to "forgive and forget?" Can I forgive without forgetting, and if so, how do I keep the memory of difficult situations in my psyche without being drawn back into that pain? What does true forgiveness even look like? What shame or embarrassment still lingers in the background and how is it impacting me? How can I break free?

If I succeed in my efforts to integrate my shadow with the light, I have both Judgement and the Sun waiting for me:

Tarot of Vampyres

The Sun bounced happily out from the deck, and was interesting for two reasons: 1) according to my birth cards, the Sun is my shadow, in which case this shows that I will have literally reclaimed it, and 2) the card itself shows the essence of light and dark intertwined into a harmonious union. I decided to make a mental note of the Sun's presence, and I put it back into the deck to complete shuffling. When I finally pulled all of the cards, I was again quite impressed to see Judgement in this position #6. This is the card that represented yesterday's topic of "What I can't accept about myself." So again, this drives home the immense, powerful, and touching energies that I'm working with, and that with effort I can indeed achieve this. I decided, for curiosity's sake, to see what card was hiding behind Judgement, and lo and behold, it was none other than the Sun.

I have a lot more to say, far more to consider, and over time I'll do just that. But for now, it's tea time.

Rising, Ever Rising

For day 12 of the Shadow Work October challenge, the task was to pull a card (or two, or three) on the following question:

What can't I accept about myself (and why)?

As I was shuffling, Judgement flew out of the deck at me, and I knew that it was the one. This is a card I really love in any deck, so I was immediately curious about what it would have to tell me. Turns out that it had quite a lot to say.

Tarot of Vampyres

My initial rumination: 

That life is a cycle of growth meant for learning and evolving, and that I don't owe anyone anything, not a single shred of guilt or shame. I'm allowed to release the past, to forgive myself and others, and move forward. I'm allowed to grow into who I am, into my calling, into my purpose, into my skin, fully and without apology. I'm allowed to rise again, and again, and again, and again. 

This pulled something from deep within me, and as I read over my own thoughts for the first time, I started to cry. It's funny, in a way. I love this card because of everything it represents: rebirth, evolution, heeding the call to our path, embracing who we are, truly. In many ways I feel I embody this. And yet it appeared as the thing that I can't accept, or don't allow myself to accept, about myself. And as I pondered, I knew it was true. In this image I see the vampire and the panther as my guides and support system. The moon above - my fears, doubts, uncertainties, the small hauntings in my subconscious Self - dissipate, are burned away by the fire of transformation. In the book, Ian Daniels writes that the vampire himself has just emerged from his grave. But when I see this card I see molten earth glowing, warning of my own impending emergence. He is there encouraging me, and awaiting me, as is the panther. The blood on his sword represents my old shell that he has done away with in order to make space for the new. 

There is a lot here. In what ways do I not allow myself to be reborn? In what ways do I shut down aspects of my own identity and growth in order to never create waves, in any way, for any reason? In what ways do I tell myself that I'm not enough, at least not yet? 

Judgement is a Trump of pure fire. Fire has been the overwhelming theme of late - embracing my own fire, and my personal power. Interestingly, all of this has brought up a lot of sadness for me. Some of it makes sense as I think about ways in which I've been limiting myself. But I can't figure out all of it - not yet. I pulled a card asking for the best way to process this sadness and out came:

The Hermit

Ah yes, of course! My friend, the Hermit, tells me that I've only just begun. In order to understand and come to be able to express the source of the sadness that has surfaced, I must keep digging. With my firebrand before me I must stride purposefully into the dark wood of my being. I love that there is a wolf here. As I was preparing the photo of Judgement, I felt an urge to include the bronze Viking wolf ring that my husband brought back to me as a gift from his time in Sweden. Viking and Norse lore, mythology, and culture form, in addition to Lukumí/Santería, an important aspect of my personal history, spiritual practice, and ancestor work, as much of the family on my father's side comes from Denmark and the small islands of the North Sea. I find great strength in the wolf, and it was strength I was looking for when I was drawn to include my ring in the photo. The wolf seems to have come to my aid here with the Hermit, assuring me that I'm not alone in my exploration. And when I've come through on the other side, there the black panther will be waiting. 

I had a lovely afternoon today with my husband and son, while our girls were in school. I was fortunate to have the day off, so we drove downtown and spent some time walking around the large lake there, filled with swans, ducks, ibises, and geese. As I watched a swan glide elegantly over the water I felt a sudden thirst for its energy - a soft-yet-sure, healing essence unique to this bird. I sat by the shore as one of them swam over, quietly watching me, asking for nothing, yet staying near all the same. 

On our way back home, we stopped by a local shop so that I could pick up a couple of stones that I am feeling drawn to use at this time: Morganite and Ruby.

A large piece of morganite, and a small ruby

As I work through this month, and this challenge, I often think back to the card I'd originally picked as representative of this month: 10 of Swords. A new word has surfaced for me in light of it: purging. I am airing out my heart and soul, cleansing, purging, examining and releasing like I never would have imagined I could do, or would even need to do. I'm amazed with what I've uncovered so far, and grateful that the journey has really only just begun.

Giving My Id A Little Breathing Room

Today's task for the Shadow Work October challenge was to complete a personal reading using an "Id, Ego, Superego" layout. I used the Tarot of Vampyres for this reading and I'm really enjoying the dark vibrancy, strength, and movement in the images.

So before I pulled my cards I wanted to refresh my memory regarding Freud's concepts of these three aspects of human psyche that impact the way we behave. I found some great images online that illustrate the way these elements interact with each other. In the end my understanding of each is as follows:

Id: my primal instincts, desires, motivations. This is the part of me that wants what it wants, that would relish free-reign over my Self.

Superego: my principled, socialized, "ideal" self that keeps my Id in check. This primarily stems from how we've learned to be through our environment, and always strives to do the right thing. This is the central source of the experiences of pride and guilt.

Ego: my practical, conscious self that forms something of a bridge or balance between the Id and Superego. It filters the Id's impulses through the Superego, ending up with something manageable within the confines of reality, or society. 

My cards are: Lord of Scepters - Daughter of Grails - 8 of Knives

This was a very intriguing and powerful reading for me in light of the spread positions, and also quite enlightening (and it made me slightly sad all at the same time). What struck me initially through this imagery is just how effectively my Superego keeps my Id constrained.

My Id is represented by the Lord of Scepters (King of Wands). I love the intense reds and blacks of this card, the energy of the horse leaping, the electricity in the lightening bolts streaming from the sky above. My Id wants to ride forth and be great, experience life in all its manifestations. This Lord is charismatic and vision-guided. He doesn't care what people think about him, but he naturally draws others to him like moths to a flame (whether for good or not!). He goes out and gets what he wants, claims his power as a birthright. 

Meanwhile the Lord's fiery essence is totally cut short by my Superego: the 8 of Knives. The correlation between the two cards is meaningful. The Lord sits confidently on his steed's back, the horns of his helmet upright, a symbol of his potency. The figure in the 8 of Knives also has horns, though his are down-turned, a symbol of powerlessness, and a knife is positioned over his genitals as if to block his raw power and force. Instead of the lively red of the Lord's card, we have a murky, yellow haze that confuses and obscures the surrounding environment. Who, or what, is out there? It's impossible to say. 

In the middle lies my Ego, the Daughter of Grails. She has a tough job of finding a way to balance the heavy demands of the Id and Superego. In the end she chooses a softer, far more receptive and easy-to-swallow demeanor. There is nothing forceful about her - she is calm, caring, and perceptive. She moves like water to adapt to the needs of others, thus she's quite pleasant to be around. But she doesn't look particularly satisfied, does she? Perhaps the chains of her Superego are bound too tightly. She needs to find a way to give her Id a little breathing room.

This is a fairly unexpected and painfully accurate representation of my personal experience. It's quite jarring to see it laid out so explicitly in these powerful images, and yet there is something cathartic here. In my shadow work thus far this month the theme has centered very pointedly around reclaiming my personal power, learning how not to run from conflict. Yet again that is present here in this reading, and it seems like each day I'm given a slightly larger view on the matter. The Daughter of Grails is a core part of who I am, but I need and want to tap further into the power of my inner fire. I see an imbalance here, and in order to address it I need to unpack the root of the 8 of Knives....

As I looked over this reading the idea of "playing small," from the Marianne Williamson kept running through my head:

5 of Wands: Integrating Ferocity

The day 10 task for the Shadow Work October challenge asks: What do you need to release?

I pulled: 5 of Scepters (Wands) reversed:

Tarot of Vampyres

This was interesting, as this was one of the cards I drew for the day nine task about misperceptions we have about ourselves; for me this related to a fear of conflict, that it would be the end of me, that I can't handle it. So to pull this as something in need of release is fitting, really. I need to continue working on releasing my desire/tendency to avoid conflict. 

This card shows a woman facing down a black panther. The black panther has been significant in my life over the past six months or so. In this image I see the need for the woman to release her fear of her own ferocity, to put the cross down and allow the panther to meld with her spirit. The panther is not going to hurt her; that in itself is her misconception. The panther is a part of her, calling for integration. 

7 of Skulls: A Poem

Yesterday I took a brief reprieve from the Shadow Work October challenge and pulled a card-of-the-day from the Tarot of Vampyres deck (which I'm enjoying quite a bit!). I pulled:

7 of Skulls

Tarot of Vampyres 

As I was pondering the imagery - the werewolf girl clinging to a post (in what almost looks like a graveyard, except that it is not), apples strewn about on the ground before her - words started to dance about in my head, and before I knew it I'd composed a short, lyrical poem:

Where have you come from, 

and where are you going? 

Are the seeds that you planted long ago 

still growing? 

Measure, inhale, think, repeat. 

Temper, calibrate, exhale, reap. 

I am indeed doing quite a bit of review, thoughtful consideration, and planning - probably just as much today as yesterday! As I sit and make lists, and ponder, I realize that I start to hold my breath. So one of the subtle aspects of this card that I will take with me is that, as I go about my calculations and consider how I want to move forward, I must remember to breathe!

Self-Forgiveness with Tarot of the Vampyres

A new deck appeared on my front steps yesterday afternoon. It's not a deck I ever thought I'd purchase, nor one I thought I was particularly interested in....until seeing Ellen's blog posts featuring it! I was surprised by the lovely and interesting artwork; while certainly "vampirey", it also has a uniquely eloquent voice and I find some of the card depictions intriguing and even rather beautiful. So I decided to go for it:

This is not a proper review, though I will probably do one a bit further down the line after working with these cards some more. For now I want to simply discuss the task from day six of the Shadow Work October challenge which I completed using this deck:

The Innocent - What do I need to forgive myself for?

As I was shuffling, the 9 of Swords reversed popped out of the deck. I put it back in and kept shuffling. I split the deck and pulled my cards, and lo and behold, the first card was none other than the 9 of Swords reversed, followed by the Priestess and the Magician:

I knew immediately what it was about: my propensity for profound self-doubt. I mean, I do believe in myself, and I recognize when I am capable of a job or if I have a particular skill. But for some reason, when I'm in the trenches of the work itself, I always question myself, and often don't sleep well while worrying about the quality of what I've done. I remember this happening quite a lot when I was a student. I would spend so much time and effort working on a project or essay, and never feeling that it was up to par. I knew I could do better. And then I'd get the feedback from the instructor and find that not only did I do very well, I went far above the expectations for whatever the assignment was. You'd think that after experiencing that same situation multiple times over the course of my life that I would come to trust in myself more. But no, I repeat the same cycle - I know that I'm doing it, I'm aware - but that doesn't remedy my worry. These cards show that I eat myself up with self-doubt, but in the end I'm able to use my own wisdom and knowledge (internal) to manifest success (external). I really love that the Priestess showed up (it's my favorite card in this particular deck as it reminds me of Artemis, and much of my self-doubt stems from trusting my intuition and innate wisdom) and the Magician as well (he is my Soul Card).

It's a powerful message, a potent reminder to myself, and I may just lay these cards out somewhere in sight so that I can continue to work on assuaging my sense of self-doubt. I suppose that in a sense, I never want to be over-confident; to some degree I value my inner critic as a way to be accountable to myself, to know that I'm always giving my all to whatever I do. But there is a line somewhere (perhaps I've crossed it when I lose sleep!) that I want to be more respectful of - a balance of self-forgiveness that I would like to achieve.