august 2026: eight of cups // following the current

hello friends, and welcome to august.

before we dive into today's eight of cups essay, i wanted to let you know that the fourth cohort of the grove, the creative devotion community space that i run with my wife jeanna kadlec, is officially open for enrollment! the grove is one of the most nourishing and community-oriented spaces that i'm a part of, transforming peoples' relationships with creativity, spirit, magic, and their own selves in real time. if you're sick of imposter syndrome, if you're fighting burnout, or if you'd simply love to be in a radically supportive space with folks who share your dreams and your values, join us in the grove starting on september 1st.

ICYMI: call your coven august forecast | coven convo on AI (spoiler alert: we hate it) | reading tarot at the morgan library in nyc | spreads for all collection | transitive tarot in the hermitage | free tarot zines

also as an early heads up, i will be running my ten-week community grief space river styx again this autumn, and will have more details for you later this month! (get on the waitlist here.) and if you're curious for my perspectives on grief and how it intersects with tarot, check out this trio of essays from january.

now, take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. shake out any tension or stress in your limbs, stretch out your wrists and ankles, and relax your jaw. let's get into the eight of cups together.

in my experience, people tend to associate the eight of cups with breakups.

whether the reading is about a relationship or not, the eight of cups has become a card that is commonly interpreted as choosing yourself, walking away, moving on, or leaving something behind. sometimes this is greeted with expressions of relief — but more often than not, there's a groan, a frustrated sigh, and sometimes even an immediate argument about why leaving isn't possible or how the relationship is worth fighting for.

and listen, truly — i get it. a relationship ending, whether it's romantic or platonic or business or familial or whatever, is often an emotional, difficult, heavy, exhausting thing — even when it's the best move, even when it's the right choice, even when it's mutual or chill or without fanfare, it's still a major shift, with a heavy toll. and when we're comfortable in a relationship, even one that isn't really working or isn't exactly what we want, it can be hard to leave that comfort behind.

breakups in general can be difficult to initiate, difficult to accept, difficult to maintain. they can be disruptive, complicated, or even leave us feeling like we've failed somehow, like we didn't do enough to save the relationship, like we asked for too much or weren't willing to compromise.

but what does it mean to follow our heart, even if it's telling us to walk out the door and never look back? what does it mean to see something through, even if it's to a bitter end?

in terms of numerology, eight is a number of devotion, discipline, intention, focus. it can be obsessive in its drive to get where its going, utterly consumed in its need to reach its intended destination. there can be tunnel vision here, an almost addictive quality that overrides logic or sense. eight energy requires care, and benefits from balance — but in the realm of emotions, intuition, and relationships, eight and water can be an intense combination.

this is about choosing a target, and doing whatever it takes to reach it.

i've got a scorpio (fixed water) stellium in my sixth house of daily work and effort, so i can say from personal experience that when water gets moving in a direction or in a pattern, it can be tough to change it. when water finds a channel it likes, a rhythm it finds comfort in, redirecting it takes a lot of effort and patience.

think about currents, both surface and deep, that move water in a consistent, steady pattern — "rivers of the sea" that can impact weather systems just as easily as they catch swimmers off guard. think about erosion, how water can carve through rock if it's stubborn enough, eroding even tough stone over time and effort and pressure and consistency. think about waterfalls, about the velocity of falling water, about how much power is generated by large amounts of water moving in this way.

eight is not a number of change — it's a number of doubling down, of consistency, of obsession, of staying the course. which is why it's so interesting to me that breakups, which are so often thought of as a shift or an ending or an adjustment, are associated with this card of constancy, devotion, pursuit, persistence. how did this card end up with this particular association? how did a number of steady movement and devotion become attached to this card of endings or shifting direction?

have you ever had a major crush, one that you couldn't seem to shake? someone you couldn't get off your mind, couldn't stop drifting back to, couldn't ignore your feelings for? even if you know in your heart of hearts that they actually would not be a great fit for you, or they don't want what you want, or they aren't interested in you like that, or whatever, sometimes the crush stubbornly sticks around. logic can't soothe it, reality checks don't erase it, nothing really seems to help.

sometimes this can become an obsession or a hyperfocus. sometimes the crush can feel more like limerence than feelings based on reality. and sometimes it can be really fucking annoying. a crush is so much about fantasy, about getting lost in the sauce of possibility, about being so consumed by potential that we may even lose sight of what's real. we build something up in our heads, invest real time and energy into imagining what could be, might even feel like we're falling for someone that we aren't sure actually exists.

but usually, eventually, the crush will fade in its own time — even if that time is a little longer than we would've liked. someone new will come into the picture, or the person we're drawn to will be in our orbit less frequently, or we'll simply get bored of this particular fixation. sometimes there are exceptions, or the crush ends up growing into something more — but in many cases the crush runs its course, wears itself out, and reaches an ending naturally.

this is eight energy, too — something going until it runs out of steam, moving on its intended path until the power goes out. we might tend to focus on the devotion, the dedication, the steady striving towards a particular goal with eight. but as eight tumbles into nine, things might slough off, get left behind or used up.

eight can be the devoted tending of and to something precious, showing up again and again for what we love. it can be a fuse burning bright and true, transforming with speed and purpose until the fuel runs out. but eight in the realm of water can have movement, flow, and depth. it can be the constancy of change, the ebbs and flows of water, the reliable cycles of the moon.

whether it's a crush fading or a relationship ending, whether it's following your intuition or your emotions or simply the steady rhythm of your own ever-beating heart, eight is measured steps, tidal flows, repeating cycles.

eight is a bullseye, whether it's moving at a consistent pace or in irregular heartbeats.

in this way, the eight of cups is less about making a choice to change or break a pattern of relationships or emotions, and more about recognizing the inevitable conclusion of what you've already been doing, and who you've become through that process.

this could feel more like a breakup, an ending, a permanent shift. but i think it's more accurate to say that it's less of an abandonment, and more of a divergence. less a decision, more a remembrance of commitment, a refreshing of our own devotion to self, to the path we've chosen, to the person we are. this isn't a change in direction — it's the inevitable result of a long pursuit, and staying true to who we are even if it requires remembering who we are.

my own divorce was like this. it wasn't that we couldn't stand each other, couldn't work together, or that our partnership no longer functioned well. we still had love for each other, devotion to each other, commitment to each other. the challenge was that the lives we wanted to lead, the paths that we were individually committed to, no longer were moving in tandem. he wanted a particular kind of life, which was very different than the life i wanted. and while for 13 years we were able to move in lockstep, eventually we hit a crossroads that required us to separate so that we could each continue to pursue our paths separately, rather than together.

this was a decision born from love, an honest and authentic reckoning that required both of us to love ourselves and each other enough to acknowledge what we each needed. it's a choice i have never regretted, especially as i see the joy and satisfaction that we both now have in our separate lives, in different places, with different spouses. of course there was still grief, still sorrow, still a sense of loss in the immediate aftermath of the decision — but we both knew it was right.

everything has a trajectory. sometimes there's a destination, other times things endure into and beyond death. but endings are natural too. and when we're brave enough to follow where our heart has been leading us, to let that steady current carry us to whatever ending we're moving into, sometimes the thing we find is something we can't reach without leaving something else behind.

trusting our hearts and following our emotions can be easier said than done. sometimes it can feel like we're being fickle or flaky, shifting with the wind, constantly changing our minds to avoid conflict or effort. other times it can seem like we're stubbornly refusing to adapt, unable to grow or expand in the ways that we want and need in order to make something last.

being "too emotional" or letting our emotions call the shots is usually thought of as a weakness, a failing, a problem rather than a strength. yet i think that allowing our intuition to guide us through rough waters or challenging storms, honoring the steady rhythm of our hearts through periods of turmoil or disruption, is one of the bravest things that we can do.

it takes practice to be this kind of brave. thinking about the open expansiveness of the ace, the intentional vulnerability of the two, the thoughtful boundaries of the four, the deep intimacy of the six — the story of the suit of cups gives us so many opportunities to practice this skill of open-hearted authenticity and following our heart's current.

and what is too emotional, anyway? too emotional for what? for who?

your emotions are a gorgeous, glorious, messy, bloody thing inside of you. they're raw and real, something we navigate like the open sea, something we cling to with hungry hands. your emotions are not something to fear, something to hide, something to deny — they're something to cherish, to tend, to revel in.

to live the eight of cups, you simply have to devote yourself to understanding your emotions and your desires. and devote yourself to recognizing what your intuition wants you to hear. and devote yourself to the relationship that you have with your creativity, your curiosity, your sense of deep wonder.

if you want to be able to trust your heart even in the darkest and strangest of moments, if you want to hear that steady beating and know where it's coming from, devotion is the answer. it's a commitment, a prayer, a vow to walk the path of your heart — even if it takes you away from something you once thought was the goal.

this month, give yourself permission to follow your heart. trust in the current of where you are, the rushing waters and heavy runoffs. honor the weight of what you're doing, the persistent steps, the steady breaths.

where have you been going, and what will you do when you get there? what is pushing you to continue, and how does it feel to honor those desires and needs? what does momentum mean for you in the realm of emotions, and why does it matter?

how is your heart constant, and when does it feel fickle? when do you doubt yourself, and why?

what does it mean to love yourself hard and true, to honor the direction you're moving even when it takes you away from someone else? how do you follow your heart's desire even when it leads you somewhere unexpected? when have you trusted your gut even when it felt like you were the only one trusting it?

and — when are you grateful for your unchanging, steady, devoted heart? when is obsession and deep focus a gift? what do you love about your ability to stay true, even when it feels like starting over?

wishing you a steady, persistent august, friends. and remember that if you're ready to dive deeper into the heart of your tarot practice, my hermitage membership program is a beautiful way to build your own card meanings, find new ways to explore the cards, and create a tarot practice that supports your real life.

and if you are eager to practice devotion to creativity and spirituality in a supportive six-month community space, consider joining us for the grove.