I had the pleasure of having virtual tea with . She is the host of The Shuffle podcast. Chelsey is also the author of Tarot for Creativity, which, if you haven’t picked up yet, go and do that.

She invited me on to talk about my creative process, and we got into things I don’t talk about often.

The card I haven’t been able to make yet. The mistakes I’ve made along the way. What it means to use collage to express language I don’t have words for, and what it looks like to build something from the inside out, one tarot card at a time.

If you want to know what’s happening inside the walls of The Tarot of Forgotten Stories, this is a good place to start.

You can watch or listen to the podcast here.

See you next week my lovelies. ✨💜✨

I fell down a well last week. I got a cold that was not playing.

The first two days I was too tired and too gross to do anything but sleep. I felt like there was a tiny imp holding a lighter to my throat, and I sounded like an 80 year old man.

Earlier this month I went to the Festival of Tarot at the Philosophical Research Society in Los Angeles. I met so many wonderful people. I watched a panel with deck creators who were on the other side of the wall. Artists who had made the climb and put their decks out into the world. I was giddy the entire time. And I also couldn’t wait to run home and work on mine.

Being sick gave me limitations and freedom at the same time. There wasn’t much I could do besides move pixels around, so I let myself have fun with it. I got curious. I experimented with textures and techniques I hadn’t tried before.

I let myself be a beginner. I let myself be a Page.

The Page of Pentacles isn’t thinking about value or immediate returns. He feels confident. He’s walking on a strong foundation and he’s open to seeing what this pentacle can turn into, if he nurtures it the right way.

I was asked to nurture myself differently this week. I wish I could have enjoyed it more. Being sick is depressing, but I really enjoyed walking around in the world I’m building.

My art saves me. Do you feel that way too?

I’m still healing, but wanted to send a quick note.

See you soon my lovelies. ✨💜✨

Things are a mess. There are piles of clutter everywhere. You start to look at things you’ve had for ages and wonder all of a sudden why they’re there. And old fears start to fall away, making space for brave new muscles taking root.

I’m in the messy middle right now. Friends, you cannot come over.

In the middle of the chaos and the mess and the clutter and the confusion, I’m starting to feel lighter. I’m looking at the state I’m in right now and thinking “How marvelous…”

Because I know what’s coming.

I’m so Type A I used to organize my meltdowns. I would feel myself starting to burnout and schedule a time to disappear, so I could fall apart and then get back to work.

(Trust me, I know how bad that sounds.)

But you can’t do that when you’re on your way to a place you’ve never been.

What would have happened if Alice stopped mid-rabbit hole and tried to climb carefully the rest of the way down? How long would that take her? What if all of the large and small doors were locked, because she took too long?

Remember the tunnel scene in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? Would you have had the courage to stop Gene Wilder mid-poem, because you didn't like how the ride was going?

Me neither.

Sometimes you just have to strap in and enjoy the ride.

The Knight of Cups doesn’t have a map. He leads with his heart. He doesn’t wait until the path is clear. He rides because the sky is gorgeous, his cup is full and there is something on the horizon calling his name.

He has complete faith that it’ll all work out. He may not be sure exactly where he’s going, but oh my stars is it a beautiful day! Look at that gorgeous periwinkle sky, so full of poetry and promise.

Fall in love with the process. Get moving. Move forward imperfectly. Prance through the doubt and detritus. Let the Knight of Cups sweep you off your feet and carry you to a place only your heart remembers.

You’re on your way. In the meantime, appreciate the weather and the horizon. Raise your cup and thank yourself for getting on that horse.

And if you’re still feeling scared, you can start singing to yourself…

There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction we are going.

The rowers keep on rowing. And they’re certainly not showing any signs that they are slowing.

See you soon my lovelies...✨💜✨

Happy World Tarot Day!

Last year I shared my origin story. I started reading tarot when I was 17, deep in my ultra goth phase. I was excited when I got my first deck. I would do spread after spread for hours, consulting the little white book, trying to understand the keywords and symbols.

I chain-smoked clove cigarettes, listened to a lot of Dead Can Dance, and had a black cat named Tarot.🐈‍⬛

You can read the full lighthouse letter here.

What I love about tarot is it won’t let you hide. It’s a mirror. It shows you where you are, the path you’re on, and what could potentially unfold if you stay on that path. Tarot offers insight, which leads to more compassion for yourself and others.

For me, it feels like dreaming while you're awake. You get these little glimpses out of the corner of your eye. While looking at a card you can get lost in the color of a sky, a castle in the background, the gesture of a hand or a print on a robe, which can lead to an a-ha moment.

I’ve been reading for over twenty years and I’m still learning. That’s why I call it a practice. You’re never really finished with it.

Isn’t that wonderful?

This year, I’m going to take you behind the scenes of making The Tarot of Forgotten Stories. I’m 55 cards in, and oh my stars!

I wasn’t expecting the journey to feel this way. In some ways, it’s been incredible. I’ve grown so much…

-but some parts of me also had to release and surrender as well.

All journeys begin as The Fool. The beginner’s mind. The excitement, the hope, and being just naive enough to take the leap.

I’ve been wanting to make a tarot deck for a long time. It took years to find my style. Here’s where I started in 2020, and where my Fool landed in 2025.

I knew she needed to be a ballerina. They’re strong, disciplined and delicate, all at once.

Instead of stepping off a cliff the way The Fool traditionally does, I saw her balancing on a fragile ladder, high up in the clouds of her own dreams, and not exactly sure what her next move would be. It’s a miracle she’s up there. The wind can blow any which way, and her eyes are closed, because she’s trusting herself to step out into The Unknown.

I started making the cards in order, and all was going well until I reached card number four. The Emperor. Which also happened to land on Election Day.

I don’t think I need to tell you how devastating the news was.

My partner nudged me awake and I said, “I don’t think I can get out of bed.”

But somehow I made it to my desk. I knew there was no way in hell I was making that card. I still haven’t made it.

So I loosened the reins a bit. I made some earl grey tea, put headphones on, and started moving pixels around.

Somewhere between the crumbling stone and the violet lightning splitting the sky in two, the tears started to stream down my face. I didn’t stop. I just kept building.

That’s when I made The Tower card, and that’s when everything changed. I stopped making cards in order and started making the card I was living in real time.

Making this deck has taken me places I didn’t plan to go. It forced me to face the grief of losing my daughter and my mother. And somewhere in the making, I started to find the forgotten stories written in my bones, placed there by my ancestors.

Those stories helped me make a map for the next version of myself.

I kept going, and just when I thought I found my footing, a card pulled me to the bottom of the ocean.

The cards were not done with me yet.

Read more

Your arms are probably sore and I’m sure your knees are weak, but don’t set that wand down. Not just yet.

The Nine of Wands holds her ground. She’s wounded, battle-weary and still very much on guard…

Before we go any further, I want to say something:

Dearest lightkeeper,

The world is batshit crazy right now. This is not a drill. This is not a phase. And if you’ve been finding it harder to function, focus, and feel like yourself, that’s not weakness. That’s a completely sane response to an insane moment.

Some of us are wide awake to it and exhausted by what we see. And some of us need to disassociate just to get through the day. Wherever you are, no judgement, because none of this is normal.

Okay, now take a few deep breaths with me…

The Nine of Wands asks for resilience and perseverance through difficulty and challenges. I can’t say when the storm will break, but it will. And in the meantime, here are some things I’m doing to get through this challenging chapter.

Read physical books. There is no threat of pop-ups and notifications. Reading print slows your brain down. It improves comprehension, reduces stress, and unlike a screen, it doesn’t trigger the same dopamine loop that keeps you reaching for more. It just lets you be somewhere else for a while.

Here is my current stack.

Put your phone away. I used to set an alarm on my phone for a reading block, but now it’s on DND in another room. I went back to wearing an old school watch that simply tells the time. I don’t need to know anything else.

Simplify, simplify, simplify. Whatever that means to you. That could mean decluttering. It could mean firmer boundaries and scheduling more personal time, or it could mean cleaning up the social media accounts you follow.

The Nine of Wands is alone in this card. And she’s on guard. What is she protecting? Because that’s the real question. Not how do you survive this. What are you fighting to keep? Distraction is a war tactic to make the opponent vulnerable. What distractions are making you vulnerable? For me it’s the landmines between the scrolling.

Something special is coming next week for paid Lightkeepers. If you’ve been curious about what’s on the other side of the wall, now’s a good time to find out.

And on May 29th, we gather live for the very first Lighthouse Session on Zoom at 11AM Pacific. Can’t make it live? The replay has you covered.

See you next week my lovelies. ✨💜✨

I promise I’m not trying to blow up your inbox! Today is World Collage Day, and I couldn't let it pass without a special edition.

If you're new to the lighthouse, this letter explains why I make things. It's the one I'd hand you first.

When I was five, I used to stare at the world upside-down. Either from the edge of the couch or from the stairs. I would just stare.

My mother actually took me to the doctor to make sure I was okay.
“She’s fine,” he said. “She just… likes doing that.”

And I still do. Because when I look at the world upside-down, it changes. Everything shifts. Ceilings become floors and mirrors become portals. The world becomes full of possibility.

Is it any wonder I’m obsessed with Alice in Wonderland?
Lewis Carroll knew what was up.

I’m a self-taught artist, and I’ve been making collages for 20 years, both analog and digital.

I’ve left a trail of collages scattered across foam boards, journals, hard drives, vision boards and snail mail letters.

I love collage.

I don’t know who or what I would be without them.

I don’t remember why I started, but I do remember how it felt:

I was sitting on the couch with a stack of magazines, rubber cement, scissors and no expectations. Just simple curiosity.
But when I started to get into it, it felt like speaking a brand-new language fluently, mid-sentence.

I made a textured sky here…I put a tiger on the balcony over there…

Something cracked open inside of me, and that’s when I started asking different questions:

• What if this arm turned into a freeway?

• What if this heart was a ticking hourglass?

• What if this man with no face can feel his way through the dark like a jellyfish?

Collage gives us permission to imagine the impossible. To turn paper scraps and emotional scars into stars.

I like writing, but collage expresses the feelings I don’t have language for. It’s just a different feeling.

If you haven’t guessed, I prefer surrealism. Most of the characters in my collages have their eyes closed. They live in an ethereal world, deep in a liminal state, while dreaming of another one.

The happiest moments of my life happen when I collage. I’m in a vortex of possibility, time disappears and nothing quite makes sense… until it does.

That’s not to say that all of my collages are great.

Have I made bad collages? Oh, honey. I’ve made awful ones.

But here’s the thing:

Watch this clip from Ira Glass. His thoughts on the creative process really helped me when I wanted to give up.

My favorite collage artist is Remedios Varo. She was a Spanish-Mexican surrealist painter and a radical visual storyteller. She created these fantastical worlds. I just want to step inside them.

If collage has been calling you, start with Collage by Women by Rebeka Elizegi. It features fifty contemporary artists, all making worlds out of fragments. It's part inspiration, and part permission slip.

Today, I’ll be celebrating World Collage Day by working on my Tarot of Forgotten Stories tarot deck. It’s another sunny day in Los Angeles, but it will never be as sexy as my Paper Moon studio.

If you’ve never made a collage, try making one. Rip something. Glue something. Rearrange some pixels.

There’s no wrong way to do it. Only your way.

Happy World Collage Day, my lovelies. You mean the world to me.

Go make something strange.✨💜✨

Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind..

[insert record scratching sound]

IT’S MAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

Welcome to the Wheel of Fortune and Year of the Pegasus Unicorns my friends. Some of you might recognize it as Year of the Fire Horse, but this is sToRyDrOpS.

Hello dear lightkeepers,

We all knew this year would come in hot, but damn… How are you riding the wheel? Are you feeling dizzy? I am.

The Eight of Wands comes in a flash. It’s a quick, swift moment that you could miss if you blink. But look at the precision in those arrows. We don’t know where they’re going or where they’ll land, but that’s a calculated strike.

Things are already in motion. All that’s left is to take a deep breath and trust the trajectory.

Last year was Year of the Snake and Year of the Hermit. That was an internal year and a lot of us were shedding and doing shadow work.

This is a hit the ground running, you don’t have to have it all figured out, GO — are you waiting for a deeper shade of green? Year. BUT that doesn’t mean you need to embrace the urgency.

Urgency creates panic and fear. Fear creates distraction, lack of focus and lousy aiming.

Trust the timing of your story and what GO means for you.

The lightning pace of this year is actually motivating me to slow down and be more intentional with my work and what occupies my attention.

I trust my Eight of Wands. They’re sharp and they don’t miss.

What is your Eight of Wands telling you? Here are a few ways to listen:

Take some bunker time. Give yourself permission to get quiet and go deep on the one thing that matters most right now.

Focus on one thing at a time. The arrows all move in the same direction. So should you.

You don’t have to have it all figured out to move forward. Hit publish. Press send. Do the launch. Make the art. Send the email.

Move at the pace of your capacity, not your fear. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t push yourself. Push yourself. But don’t break yourself out of fear of being left behind.

Your story is always with you. We all have different destinies and North Stars. It wouldn’t make sense for 8.3 billion people to all run at life at the same pace.

Your Eight of Wands will look different from everyone else’s. I can explain the keywords and general meanings of a tarot card, but that’s never the whole story. It depends on the question, the placement, and the cards surrounding it.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in the bunker lately, working on my tarot deck. I’m healing from bronchitis and don’t have the capacity for anything else. So I’ll continue to work slowly in the dark, trusting that when the time is right, those slow intentional movements will one day make a swooshing sound, and I’ll look up in the air, with my hand cupped over my eyes, wondering where they’ll land.

See you next week my lovelies…✨💜✨

How was last night? I went on a full moon hike in search of glow worms and moon flowers, and I found them! Glow worms are so tiny. It’s like looking for tiny stars at your feet. I’ll never get over it.

I'm so glad you're here for Part 2. I have some things to share with you, but first, let's finish the walk.

Read more

The moon has 8 phases and I'm going to walk you through each one. By the end of this Dispatch you'll have a tarot spread in your hands, a ransom note at your feet and Scorpio piercing your chest. Are you ready? Let's begin.

Phase One: New

The world has gone Vantablack. It’s the blackest material ever made on Earth. It absorbs 99.96% of light and can be used for many things, such as preventing stray light from entering telescopes and enhancing infrared cameras.

A shade that dark can feel quite disorienting.

I went to the Jenolan Caves in Australia for a crystal cave hike into the Earth. At one point, we were all asked to turn our headlamps off and I experienced a darkness that enveloped all of my senses. One part of me felt complete awe and the other part of my body was having trouble orienting itself.

I felt embraced and abandoned at the same time.

It can feel that way when The Moon goes away each month for her personal time.

I wonder where she goes…

Read more

Yes, we do get messages. Magic leaves clues. But they’re subtle, and while we’re waiting for that neon sign, we’re missing them.

Confusion is not a sign you’re doing it wrong. Confusion is the fog right before the breakthrough. It means you’ve doubled down, and there’s no turning back now. So you might as well strap in and give it everything you’ve got.

We all “know” that growth is uncomfortable. We say it all the time. But when we’re the ones feeling it, we’re convinced something is wrong. We’re like: No, you don’t understand. This REALLY hurts. I must be doing it wrong.

But this isn’t a movie montage. It’s magic.

The Magician enters the tarot at number one. Right after The Fool’s leap of faith. She has one hand raised to the sky, and the other pointing down. As Above, So Below. All of the suits are present in this card. Wands, cups, swords and pentacles. The Magician has everything she needs to manifest whatever her heart desires. This is where skills and tools meet intention. There is usually a table holding all of the magician’s tools, but I nixed it for my deck, because she is the fucking table.

In most movies, the protagonist faces challenges, hits rock bottom, learns a lesson, and then we get a :30 montage of push-ups and dance moves and typing furiously at a computer with a pencil in their mouth, followed by a shocking presentation where the men in suits look bewildered, slowly remove their glasses, and then stand up and clap.

I would love to grant you a movie montage. I could use one myself. But this is magic, and we have to trust it.

Your magic is talking to you, and you don’t need a map to hear it.

You just need to decide that you are the answer now.

See you soon my lovelies.✨💜✨

An innocence where anything can happen if you trust the void and take the leap.

Let’s begin…

The Tarot of Forgotten Stories began with a box and a dream.

I saw this box at World Market 10 years ago, and the moment I saw it I knew exactly what I wanted.

This box is going to hold my sToRyDrOpS tarot deck.

I got my first tarot deck when I was nineteen, deep in my ultra goth phase. I listened to a lot of Dead Can Dance, smoked clove cigarettes, and wore DRAMA perfume.

I would spend hours on my bed, pulling cards and flipping through the little white guidebook. I wasn’t going that deep, because I was a teenager. My questions looked something like:

WHY IS NICK BEING SUCH A JERK? IS HE GOING TO THE CLUB TONIGHT?

But beneath all of that, tarot became an anchor. I was mesmerized by the imagery, the mysterious symbols, and the stories folded inside each card. I found comfort in the cards, and eventually it helped me to navigate my twenties.

Here’s what I love most about tarot. It’s like dreaming with your eyes open, or seeing out of the side of your eye. You get these little glimpses of the path you’re on. These shards of light. Information etched on swords or perspectives shining from overflowing cups. Hints, warnings, mirrors and messages. 🔮Magic🔮

I have a lot of tarot decks. Like, a lot a lot.

Before you judge, it’s not just me. There are over 10,000 tarot decks in the world today. So why do we need another one?

Because tarot isn’t fixed. The world keeps evolving and so do our stories.

Each tarot deck has its own personality and perspective. Some are serious and get downright sarcastic if you keep asking the same question. Others are playful, and some are devious.

The core archetypes remain, but like The Fool there are infinite directions to explore. Each new deck becomes an opportunity to imagine the world — and our place in it — with greater clarity.

The Tarot of Forgotten Stories tarot deck is almost finished. This is a dream I’ve had for ten years, and it feels so strange to stand in this liminal space.

I’m feeling proud, overwhelmed and a bit scared. But I trust my Fool. I trust my delulu.

If you’ve had a dream for a long time, that you feel you can’t quite reach, you can. You’re already on the journey, and the doubts and the starting and stopping and starting again are part of the process.

I’ll keep going if you do.

I was on a personal creative retreat last week. I’ve been spending a lot of time in the lighthouse and I have some exciting news to share soon.

If you’re curious about what’s glowing on the other side of the wall, now is a perfect moment to become a paid lightkeeper.

Subscribe now

See you soon, my lovelies. ✨💜✨

When I first started the Tarot of Forgotten Stories tarot deck project, I was going in order.

Cards zero to three went just fine, but when I arrived at The Emperor, he who will not be named got elected, and I just couldn’t do it.

There was no way I could sit at my desk and make that card. So I decided to skip it and go with the card I was feeling.

I put my headphones on and started to move pixels around to ambient music. And somewhere between the crumbling stone and the violet lightning splitting the sky in two, tears started to stream down my face.

I just let them fall and kept building.

The Tower arrives without warning at number 16. In some decks, figures fall from the Tower with their arms outstretched and a strange calm on their faces. It’s a moment of surrender, perhaps even relief, that something is finally over.

A lot of people see this card and panic. I understand why. The Tower is devastating. It represents chaos, destruction, sudden irreversible change and an awakening.

Right now there are two towers.

There is the Tower happening externally — to institutions, to systems, and to things we believed were protected and would protect us.

And then there is your Tower — the one that is happening internally in your life. Beliefs that are crumbling. Relationships that are shifting, and a version of yourself that no longer fits, no matter how many times you try to squeeze back into it.

Girl, those pants need to be donated. It’s not happening.

The mistake most people are making right now is burning their energy on the external Tower. The doomscrolling, feeling understandably outraged and overwhelmed, and losing hours to a feed that only gets darker. And while that fire burns, the foundation of your internal Tower goes along with it.

You cannot be a lighthouse for anyone if your own light goes out.

But I have some good news…

It’s safe to bloom.

Your bloom is not confined to permission, political timelines, or anyone else’s point of view. Your bloom is unique. Some of you will be surrounded by wildflowers, giddy pansies and iridescent irises. And some of you will bloom alone, through ash, rubble, and concrete.

Both blooms are essential.

The world is unpredictable and very dark at the moment, but we’re not powerless.

How to ride a Pegasus unicorn when the world is on fire:

Assess the damage. There is no ignoring the Tower when it arrives. You’re down and you’ve been hit. Take stock of how you feel and what you need. You don’t need a plan yet. You just need to know what’s been lost or destroyed.

Let yourself grieve. Don’t rush to find the lessons. There is strength in retreat. You can take yourself off the board for a while. The world will keep spinning. When your orbit is off its axis, don’t try to force it. Let things be weird for a while, and then get back up.

Limit the doomscroll. Stay informed from credible sources and set a boundary around how long you spend in the feed. Your focus is your currency. Protect it.

Light yourself up. Tend to the things that light you up. For me that’s collage, hiking, writing snail mail, reading, and time in my Monster Garden. Find your version and go there often.

Tag your people. Even with different blooms, we’re all in this together. Reach out to your people. Set up coffee dates or hikes. Write letters or schedule a FaceTime with someone long distance. People need people, and community is everything right now.

Stand your ground. Find your version of resistance. It doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. It just has to be yours. Even if it’s small, don’t underestimate your power.

After the Tower collapses, we can see the Star. She represents hope, renewal and inspiration after chaos and destruction.

If you’re struggling right now and feeling overwhelmed, I see you. I know it’s hard, but please don’t dim your light right now. People need it.

You must keep going. Let it guide you forward, so you can help someone else find the shore.

A 5-card tarot spread for building during a Tower period:

1 · What has the lightning revealed? What is the false foundation? The thing the Tower is exposing that you already knew, somewhere.

2 · What must be grieved before you can move forward? Where is your heart heavy?

3 · What is still standing? What survived the collapse?

4 · What is the Tower clearing space for? This is the new foundation. What wants to grow in the rubble?

5 · What is your Star? What is lighting the way forward? The hope that’s already present, even if you can’t feel it yet.

I'll be spending some time in the lighthouse this week on a private retreat. I can sense change on the horizon.

More soon, my lovelies. ✨💜✨

“To attain true inner freedom, you must be able to objectively watch your problems, instead of being lost in them." - Michael A. Singer

I fell between the cards…

Somehow I managed to slip through the cracks of creating, feeling, processing and intellectually detaching, which is a very Queen of Swords thing to do, now that I think about it.

I started this Queen two months ago. She’s been sitting on an unfinished throne, half in smoke / half in contemplation. Percolating. Observing. Waiting for me to cut through my emotions and get down to the business at hand.

Create for yourself. Cut for your audience.

I’m more than halfway through The Tarot of Forgotten Stories. And somewhere in the creative process, I got too close to the stories. I’m peering at castles and bridges in the distance. I’m writing letters to fish that pop out of large cups. I’m cloaking myself in robes and disassociating with a lantern in one hand and a wand in the other.

I need to detach and be more objective. I need to stop living inside each card long enough to finish this deck.

The Queen of Swords is independent, sharp, quick-witted and will tell you exactly how it is, whether you like it or not. She won’t soften her edges to make herself more palatable.

Her swift and blunt truths remind me of the first few seconds after eating wasabi. At first your eyes tears up and you’re a bit stunned, and then your sinuses clear and you can appreciate the pungent flavor. Don’t judge. It’s an acquired taste.

Many people see her as a cold Ice Queen, but would they say that about a man?

She rules with her head, not her heart. Her sword is raised in a let me stop you right there position — not in violence, but in clarity. In her other hand she holds a mirror with a violet butterfly, representing transformation and the personal growth available to you if you’re brave enough to listen.

In the creative process, if you let your feelings run the show, the show will never end. You’re also more likely to veer off course into a one woman interpretive dance performance that only you can understand.

Deep in the black velvet of the empty theater the Queen of Swords has been watching me and assessing my improv.

She’s not impressed.

The downside of the Queen is that she can stay in stealth detached-warrior mode for too long. She can mistake numbness for strategy and distance for discernment.

I’ve been doing that.

Mercury Retrograde has three more days left, and I’m not going to miss this one. I’ve been mopey, moody, scattered and foggy.

But I have to trust the margins of my story. And the next version of me that is slowly waving me towards her.

I also have to be relentless, and ruthless with cutting out what is no longer serving the work.

The Queen of Swords doesn’t wait for the fog to lift.

She cuts through it.

She doesn’t ask easy questions, so neither will I.

Have you been drowning in your feelings these past few weeks? What has this retrograde asked you to cut? Have you been able to do it?

Drop your answers in the comments. I read every single one.

See you next week lovelies ✨💜✨

The horizon has changed. The creases in the clouds are different. The periwinkle skies are full of promises, and I can hear the sound of nine singing bowls chiming in my favor.

I know it’s time to set the armor down.

And yet?

Damn. When did I become afraid of wishing?

Nines in tarot mark an ending on the horizon. They’re also solitary cards, much like the Hermit. When the Nine of Cups comes up it’s time to sit with yourself and be clear on what you really want. The cups are being raised in your favor, but watch what you wish for.

It takes real courage to ask for what you want. It takes unhinged audacity to set your forecast to: Universe, show me how good it gets. Stupefy me. I want to be awe-struck and brought to my knees, unsure if I’m crying from joy or infectious laughter.

And it’s especially hard right now.

The world feels like it’s being dismantled in real time. Scrolling feels like betting your last chip on a rigged roulette wheel, and each morning requires a small act of bravery just to open your laptop and try again.

Who are you to dream bigger when your basic needs are already met? Who are you to ask for more when there’s still decluttering to do? Who are you to want a bigger story than the one you’re already living in, especially when this is the one you wished for years ago?

Wishing for more or something different doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful. The Nine of Cups isn’t asking you to forget the hard chapters. It’s asking you to not give up, and to trust that your story isn’t over yet.

What would it look like to make your life more meaningful and beautiful-er? What if the next chapter is the one that makes you forget how hard it was to get here?

Wishing after hardship and disappointment is hard. Daring to dream and opening your life up for magic in dark times like this is a radical act of rebellion, and we need more of it.

It’s hard not to default to “I got through the day” and call it enough. I’m struggling with this too. But getting through the day is the floor, not the ceiling.

Like the Wheel of Fortune, this card won’t last forever, so lean into it.

The genie I created for this deck is a bit melancholy. They’ve lived many lifetimes, seen millions of wishes granted and millions more pushed down and abandoned out of fear…

But they’re still here, and still leaning in every time someone finally musters the audacity to dream.

The world is waiting on your wishes. Be brave and audacious.

For my new Lightkeepers: welcome to the lighthouse. I’m creating my tarot deck in real time. Each week I write about the card I’m living at the moment. Right now my life has new-car smell. There are bells in the distance and the sound of locks falling off doors, and it’s beautiful and scary and weird and a bit overwhelming. But when you see a carousel Pegasus unicorn with your name on it, you jump on. You can worry about steadying yourself later.

Before You Make Your Wish

Wishes carry weight. It’s not enough to blow on a dandelion or update your vision board.

Before you make your wish, you need to do a little excavation. Do you have the emotional and mental capacity to make room for what you’re calling in? Are you being honest about what you actually want? Not what you think you should want. Not the meek version. The real one.

That’s what this tarot spread is for.

Nine of Cups: The Wish You’re Afraid to Make

Lay nine cards in a 3x3 grid:

Row 1 — Mind What I think I want | What blocks me | What I believe about deserving

Row 2 — Heart What I truly feel | Where I’m already full | What needs healing

Row 3 — Spirit The gift I have to offer | What the universe is offering | How I can combine the two

The armor can come off now. The skies are clear, the genie is listening, and there is a carousel Pegasus unicorn with your name on it.

My wish for you is that you go for it with everything you have. Blow the doors down. Be extra. Ask for ALL of it. The Universe isn’t on a budget.

I can’t wait to see what you create.

See you next week, lovelies… ✨💜✨

YoOooOoooo…

Pisces season arrived quietly, through the side door, carrying all the feelings you thought you’d packed away.

The last sign of the zodiac, Pisces is the dreamer. The empath. The rubber duckie you hold onto when you’re crying in the bathtub at 2am.

Mercury Retrograde hasn’t even begun yet and I’m already a mess.

Have you ever read tarot for yourself and pulled cards that make you want to flip the table, change your identity, and move to another country?

That was yesterday.

My deck was so unhinged, I think it invented a few new cards.

Here’s what I know now that I didn’t know at 6pm last night: when you’re that deep in your feelings, put the cards away. Turn off your screens, and take yourself off the board for a little while.

The world will keep spinning. I promise.

Now that the sage clouds have cleared, I can see I’m at capacity. My heart is still mid-renovation and there is clutter on my countertops.

This morning I reset the deck and pulled The Three of Swords.

Instead of calling my cards a damn liar and hiding them in a drawer, I decided to just sit with it.

We will all be every card in the tarot at several different points in our lives. The cards aren’t delivering a verdict. They’re holding up a mirror. They just want to be acknowledged.

So I acknowledged it. Okay, fine. I’m not exactly el-oh-elling in this chapter. And somehow, even writing that admission out makes me feel lighter.

I’m not forcing a rainbow, and I’m not closing the blinds and drowning in my sorrows either. I’m somewhere in the glittery, complicated middle.

This is a unicorn pegasus year, and she is galloping wildly through the Wheel of Fortune. Things can, and will, change on a dime. (See what I did there, Lightkeepers?)

The balance comes when you acknowledge where you are and keep moving anyway. Even if you have to crawl.

The balance also comes when you extend yourself some grace. It’s hard to become someone you’ve never been before.

The Wheel of Fortune reminds us that nothing is permanent. Not the fortune or the fog.

Being a highly sensitive person is its own kind of superpower that I would sometimes lovingly trade in for a pair of Alexander McQueen boots.

But here we are, and apparently feeling everything is part of the assignment.

About that retrograde…

Most Mercury retrogrades come for your texts and travel plans. This one is coming for your feelings.

Pisces rules the subconscious, so this retrograde is less about tech disasters and more about psychic audits. Expect your inner world to demand your full attention.

Old emotional loops might resurface, and dreams will probably be more vivid. There could be a sudden, inconvenient clarity about something you’ve been avoiding.

The prescription from me and the cosmos is the same one I wrote about last spring: Resist. Retreat. Reflect. Reset.

Don’t fire off that snarky text. Give yourself alone time that is actually alone. Ask the uncomfortable questions in your journal. And remember, you can start over any time you decide to. You don’t need fireworks or a glitter ball countdown.

For the full Mercury Retrograde survival guide, including what to expect, and how to find the gifts hiding inside it, read the full essay right here.

Nothing is permanent. Not the fog. Not retrograde. Not even the Three of Swords.

We’re all just fish swimming through a very dramatic cosmic moment together. And I am choosing to find that deeply comforting.

Be gentle with yourselves out there, Lightkeepers. Take yourself off the board when you need to, and when you’re ready to come back, the lighthouse is always lit.

See you next week, lovelies.✨💜✨

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The Year of the Snake is finally over.

Last year asked a lot of us.

We were asked to shed, outgrow skins, and release identities that no longer served us.

And for many people — myself included — it got so real.

Those snakes weren’t playing, but we survived.

According to myth, when Medusa’s head was cut off, Pegasus sprang from her neck. She was unbridled, untamed, and hitting those clouds running.

Pegasus emerged because transformation had reached its threshold.

We’ve been living in unrelenting chaos. None of this is normal. But creation and destruction often share the same portal.

Welcome to the Year of the Pegasus Unicorn.

Why the Pegasus Unicorn instead of the Fire Horse, you ask?

Because this is sToRyDrOpS, and I get to do what I want.

Pegasus is not just a creature of flight, she is a symbol of ascent, and rising toward something unimaginably luminous.

This Pegasus is very much like a phoenix, only her flames are opalescent, with lavender and silver at the edges.

And this Pegasus also happens to be a unicorn.

Unicorns symbolize purity and grace. Their horn was said to have the power to render poisoned water drinkable.

Our waters are being poisoned with lies, gaslighting, unaccountability and aggressive force.

This is when artists channel their inner Pegasus and charge forth with their truth and vision.

But not today.

Today we celebrate survival.

Survival deserves witnesses, and the quiet victories no one clapped for.

The boundaries you held, and the risks you took.
The mornings you rose when it would have been easier not to.

In tarot, fire lives in the suit of Wands. The realm of creative force, desire, courage, and fiery momentum.

Today we lean into Four of Wands energy.

This is one of the most joyful cards in tarot.

The Four of Wands reminds us that joy is not a distraction from the path. It is the path.

In many depictions, two figures dance beneath a canopy of four flowering wands. And behind them sits a home. Not just a structure, but a place of joy and belonging.

Pause and look around. There was a time you wished for all you currently have. You’ve built something worth celebrating.

Most of us are very good at moving the finish line.

I tend to be a pleasure-delayer myself, but celebration stabilizes the nervous system. It tells the body: you made it somewhere safe.

We made it.

Let’s put our pencils and planners down for a moment and get some dumplings.

While the Year of the Snake asked us to look inward, the Year of the Pegasus Unicorn asks us to take flight.

Let this be the year of your ascent.

From snake to sky, it’s time to soar and blind them with your brilliance.

How to Ride Your Pegasus Unicorn in 2026

1. Run your own race.
   Fire energy is intense. It can tempt you into comparison, urgency, and unnecessary competition. Stay in your lane. Racehorses wear blinders for a reason. To preserve their focus and stamina. You’re not behind. You’re on the track. Run your own race and trust your pacing.

2. Be unbridled.
   History doesn’t make room for the tamed and palatable. There is a feral nature inside you. The part that knows when to leap, when to pivot, and when to run unbridled. Listen to her. Life expands dramatically when you stop asking for approval.

3. Be the last unicorn.
   You’re the last of your kind. There has never been another you.

   You’re not here to replicate what’s already been done. You’re here to leave a blazing trail of stars that makes it easier for someone else to believe in their own myths. The gate is not locked. Run wild.

4. Meet in the field.

   We’re all fried, tired of screens and scrolling, and craving connection. This year will ask us to be more social, and get out of the house. Meet with your fellow Pegasus Unicorns. Share apples in the grass and remember what the sky looks like.

But today, raise a glass to yourself.

Honor how far you have come.

And when you are ready, charge on.

The Pegasus Unicorn is already in motion.

And something in you was born flying.

See you next week lovelies…✨🦄✨

Dearest Lightkeeper,

I’ve been walking around with the Death card lately.

Like Friday the 13th, black cats, and lefties, the Death card is not something to fear.

It symbolizes the inevitability of change, necessary endings, and the birth of something new in its place. It can mark the closing of a relationship, a job, or a version of you that is ready to be released.

I’m stepping out of the swamp of uncertainty for a moment to tell you something simple:

I love you.

Sometimes, dear lightkeeper, you are a light for me in the dark.

Thank you for being part of this lighthouse.

I made something for the wild-hearted and feral.

A small offering for wherever you find yourself right now.

See you next week lovelies,
✨💜✨

Does anyone else feel a strange sense of relief when they pull the Ten of Swords?

This is a deeply personal lighthouse letter, but it feels important to write, because someone out there may be carrying this same weight.

I pulled the Ten of Swords yesterday morning, and my beaten, bruised body let out one final sigh as I squinted towards the dawn.

A lot of people are afraid of this card, but when you pull the Ten of Swords, the battle has been fought. You may have been defeated, but it’s over.

All that’s left is to heal.

I made a decision yesterday. I’m walking away from a family member.

Empaths and highly sensitive people tend to get saddled with the heavy emotional work. Especially when family dynamics are involved.

It happens naturally. It’s easy to look at someone who knows how to hold space for people and say, “You know how to carry this weight… there you go.”

I took this burden on because no one else in the family would. This person struggles with their mental health, so I breathed through the verbal abuse, the rage, the paranoia — and the hardest part of all — knowing we may never truly see each other because our minds are wired differently.

They’ll never know who I am. And they’re trapped in the dense forest of their own mind, navigating a world that operates differently from them.

When you’re climbing to new heights and becoming someone you’ve never been, you have to move differently.

You’ll need new tools, and you must strip yourself of anything weighing you down. The ascent is hard enough. Don’t make it harder by trying to carry someone who may destabilize your foundation, whether intentional or not.

I made the decision to walk away yesterday, and this morning I woke up feeling a lot lighter.

I realized my signal can’t reach them in that environment. And I’m not serving them, myself or others by remaining there.

You can walk away, even when it hurts.
And you can walk away while still wishing for them to have a beautiful and peaceful life.

Walking away is not a failure of love.
Sometimes it’s love with boundaries.

“It’s a new dawn.
It’s a new day.
It’s a new life for me…
and I’m feeling good.” — Nina Simone

That’s not entirely true. My heart still aches a little, but I can feel a horizon that I couldn’t see before.

The world needs our light more than ever right now. If a relationship or situation is dimming your light and dragging you down, you’re allowed to remove yourself.

Sometimes the most loving way to serve is to leave.

I feel the tarot Suit of Cups calling to me this month.

The Cups are the suit of emotions, intuition, and relationships.

I’ll be sharing a few cards from the suit over the next few weeks.

They invite us to swim deeper into the currents of our emotions and intuition.

Come join me and have a swim. The water’s warm, I promise.

See you next week, lightkeeper.✨💜✨

Dearest lightkeeper,

Many of us are carrying a lot right now.
Grief. Rage. Fear. Injustice.
All of those feelings are valid.

I tried to write this letter several times and had to stop. I just came back from a walk and I’m still in my feelings, so I’ll keep this lighthouse letter short.

Aquarius season is here, and Judgement has blown her trumpets.
This is a collective call. A moment of reckoning.

Gather your strength.
Take care of yourself first.
Then, if you can, get organized and be a lighthouse for others.

This moment is not over.
And what is happening will not stand.

For those joining Wheel & Wonder, I’m really looking forward to being with you tomorrow in a magic bubble.🫧

For everyone else, please:

It’s okay to move slowly.
It’s okay to need time to yourself.

We’re still in the Year of the Snake for three more weeks, so let yourself shed and release if you’re still in that space.

You’re not behind.
The wheel is always turning.
And you are resourced.

If you’re curious about Wheel & Wonder, you can learn more here:

See you soon lovelies,
Shaunté ✨💜✨