january 2026: ace of cups // headwaters & sources

hello, friends, and welcome to 2026. in 2024 i started writing through the suit of wands, a month and a card at a time — and in 2025, i explored the suit of pentacles in the same way. now, for 2026, we'll be diving headfirst into the clear waters and murky undercurrents of the suit of cups, and the element of water.

before we get started, a few reminders: my annual journaling series, looking at archetypes for the year via tarot, numerology, and reflective questions, begins in just a few days on january 3rd. this is one of my most popular and beloved annual offerings, so if you'd like to join us, consider this your last call.

i'll also be announcing dates and information for my long-anticipated ten-week grief series, river styx, very soon. i'll send out an announcement via this very newsletter too but if you want an email notification as soon as this container opens, get on the waitlist here.

now, stretch out your limbs, grab a big sip of water or tea, and take a moment to attend to your breathing. how is this new year finding you? what are you bringing to this space? what might 2026 have to offer you? and how could listening to the wisdom of the ace of cups help you find your way this month?

let's find out together.

what is a beginning in tarot, anyway?

every suit in the tarot, every element in the cycle, has their own way of kicking off. with the suit of wands and fire i wrote about the first spark of an idea or a desire; about feeding that spark with kindling and attention and tending and care, helping it become something that can build and grow and warm us for a long time. with the suit of pentacles and earth i wrote about the planting of a seed and the potential of a new journey; about optimism and hope and consistent effort, about nourishment and patience and helping something become a foundational part of our world.

but here, at the top of 2026, the idea of a beginning has a very different vibe. the element of water, our tangible and magical inroad into the suit of cups, is not something that we can produce out of nothing. water has a very specific cycle, with many states of matter, many ways of being. and while there are arguments that fire and earth (and air, which we'll get into more next year) also have their own cycles, with water the sense of ongoing cycle and circular story is particularly loud.

water gathers and flows. it pools and collects, carving out its own pathways of movement or sinking more deeply into the earth. it falls from the heavens and runs deep underground; it takes many shapes; it fills whatever containers it is put into.

so when it comes to water, to the suit of cups, what does a beginning really mean? are we actually at a start, or are we simply choosing a moment to begin paying attention to the story?

the ace of cups is our entry point into this suit. but with water, beginnings are harder to define. and as we explore this card all month long, and this suit throughout the year, i'll encourage you to stay flexible when it comes to your definitions, absolutes, and limits — because water will challenge them all.

in our physical world, water is essential to life itself, a necessity that is not optional or replaceable. and in the metaphysical world, the spiritual world, one could argue that water is just as essential: representing love, relationships, emotions, intuition, inner wisdom, beauty, faith, hope, connections, dreams, imagination, art, and wonder, to name just a few.

the suit of cups, the story of water, is one of flow and contraction, of movement and stagnation. it's awe and magic, vulnerability and tenderness, letting ourselves see and be seen. it's big feelings, big sensitivity, big internal experiences. it can be both bitter and sweet, tender and fierce, gentle and overwhelming. and while within this suit we find cards that are often associated with grief and heartbreak, loneliness and doubts, we also find cards that celebrate love in its many forms, the power of intimacy, and the necessity of reverence.

it all starts here, with this ace. the ace of cups is frequently depicted as an overflowing cup, a gift from an unseen force, an outpouring of something beautiful, a scooping up from a generous pool. but this isn't a full cup that invites caution, that sees us walking slowly and carefully trying not to spill a single drop. this isn't a delicate chalice that will break if you look at it wrong, that requires intense balance and skill to not knock over.

instead depictions of the ace of cups are often showed with water spilling everywhere, reckless abundance, a sense that this water is both precious and infinite.

there's no stinginess with the ace of cups, no fear of loss. instead there's a joyful trust, a deep belief that there will always be more than enough. this isn't water that's been commodified or restricted, water that is stolen and sold back to us wrapped in plastic, water that is unsafe or polluted or otherwise corrupted.

the ace of cups seems to hold endless possibility, rich abundance, the kind of nourishment that we can count on without even thinking about it.

so how is this the beginning? how is this overflowing cup, this gift from the heavens, this potent and reliable essential meant to represent the start of something?

how indeed.

where does love begin? where do emotions start? what initiates intuition? where does faith come from? what feeds wonder? what inspires awe? what is the root of magic? how does wisdom emerge? why does imagination exist? what supports dreaming? what is the value of beauty?

i don't know that these questions can really be answered completely or objectively, though i love thinking about them. but as with so many of the cycles and concepts that the tarot explores, the answers themselves aren't always the most important thing — it's the sitting in the question, the willingness to be uncertain, the desire to explore, that initiates the magic.

i think it's really useful to consider that this ace of cups is already overflowing, that we are beginning this journey of water through the suit of cups with our cup already filled. this isn't a situation where we have to find or create the water, where we have to invite the water in, where we are searching out water or feeling desperate to soak up any drops we find.

the ace of cups, in some ways, asks: what are you beginning your journey with? what love is already present? which emotions are you already holding? what intuitive gifts are you already aware of? what do you currently have faith in? what activates your sense of wonder these days? how are you awe-struck right now? what magic do you already possess? what wisdom do you already trust?

yes, things can change shape. beginnings are possible. relationships can spark and build, wisdom can grow and change, magic can be discovered and nourished. but water is always water, no matter what form it takes. even if you're someone who is longing for romance, that doesn't mean there's no love in your life. even if you're someone who wishes you had a whole set of clear spirit relationships, that doesn't mean your life isn't spiritual at all. even if you're someone who has struggled to trust your intuition, that doesn't mean you don't have any intuition.

but were you taught love? not how to love another person, or how to love yourself. not the art of love, the performance of love, the vulnerability of love, the act of love — but love, itself. isn't here a part of you that has always known to love, even if you had to figure out the how or when or why of it?

the ace of cups, when we stop thinking of it only as a beginning, gives us space to celebrate what is already present. the ace of cups, when we allow it to be more than a quest, lets us honor what we have already found. the ace of cups, when we give it space to find its flow and form, offers us reflections in the form of reality.

if the physics of a constantly overflowing cup of water is annoying or distracting to you, or if you just want another way to think about this card, perhaps a better metaphor for this ace is the source of a river, the headwaters. after all, where does a river begin? how do the waters gather? what initiates this long, winding flow of water exploring a landscape, finding its way to something greater?

rain falls from clouds, ice and snow melt, groundwater rises from the earth, and all of this water collects in "a branching system of beginnings, merging towards a central flow." these small gatherings of water find each other, pooling together, mixing and merging and creating something more. technically speaking, a river's source is its true geographic beginning, the precise place where that water begins to form a channel that trickles into a stream that eventually becomes a river, carving a path to something else.

but the headwaters are all of those upstream beginnings, every bit of water that finds its way into the greater flow. every little drop contributes, adds to the weight and mass and gravity of the thing, helping it go from puddles of runoff to a roaring river with its own currents, temperature shifts, and ecosystems. every tributary, every raindrop, every tiny spring is part of the story.

when it comes to water, it all counts. wherever those drops came from, the water all joins together to form a new, larger collective whole. and while eventually those droplets will evaporate and find new life in a new form and a new place, the water never goes away or disappears. it simply flows somewhere else, finds another life, adapts and changes shape again and again.

(are you with me here? is the metaphor loud enough yet?)

in nature, as in life, as with spirit and love and dreams and relationships and magic and hope and emotions and intuition, it's not that the water is magically appearing out of nowhere, or that water has been suddenly summoned to begin a particular journey. it's instead that water is constantly collecting, always building strength, eventually gathering enough weight and force to move in a direction and become something ever-flowing, ever-fed.

with the ace of cups, our waters of heart and spirit are ready to move. those waters are ready to flow and take up space, ready to carve a path forward, ready to find their way somewhere, ready to trust in their own gravitational pull and instinctive pursuit. with the ace of cups, water becomes something that we can see ourselves in, something that we can cup in our hands, something that we can follow.

it's not that the water itself is new. it's that we can feel it, touch it, experience it in a way that is new to us. that's where the magic is — not in the newness, but in the recognition that we're ready, open-hearted, able to see.

none of this is to say that when the ace of cups shows up in your tarot reading, it can't indicate a beginning or the start of a new water-themed journey. it's not to say that you can't interpret this card as meeting someone new, initiating emotional discoveries, reaching out for the first time to an ancestor or deity or spirit, fully recognizing a long-held dream, or starting some other kind of emotional, intuitive, relational adventure.

it's your card. it's your ace. you can read it however it want.

but it is to say that working with the ace of cups doesn't just have to be about a beginning — or, that the ace of cups isn't only about something brand new dropping into your life for the first time. the ace of cups can also be an offering, a gift, a revelation that gives you a new way of seeing, a new way of being. it can help you recognize the waters that you're already swimming in or already drinking greedily, instead of simply pointing out something you might be thirsting for. it can show you where your heart is quietly leading, can show you where gravity is subtly tugging you, can show you where your waters are visibly running over.

what feeds your waters? what nourishes you? what are your headwaters, your sources, your collections? what is flowing towards you, flowing from you? and what might you do with that heart, that momentum, that eagerness for discovery?

what if you let yourself trust your heart and honor what has been gathering? what if you allowed your journey to guide you, instead of trying to define a beginning? what if you paid attention to your own longings and dreams, and let them lead you forward? what if you allowed the waters to lay you bare, and see what you can find within those strange and beautiful depths?

this month, i want you to think about the sources of your nourishment, your love, your tenderness. i want you to think about the waters that you are already swimming in, that are already satisfying you. what fills your cup? what activates your tender emotions, your vulnerable expressions, your willingness to question and discover? what stimulates your awe, your wonder, your dreaming? what does it mean to feel everything, to believe in anything? what is overflowing with you, for you, around you?

and — where are you parched? what your thirsting for? where does your cup feel empty, your mouth feel dry? where might you be craving support, connection, intimacy, inspiration, wonder, faith? where might you be eager for desire, for intuitive discovery, for beauty, for dreaming?

what if you stopped waiting for a sign that something is beginning, and instead allowed yourself to fully step into the flow that's eager to carry you into something more?

wishing you a magical 2026 and a nourishing, open-hearted, authentic and love-filled january, friends.

and remember that if you'd like a gentle entry point into this new year, wheeling into the year begins on saturday! learn more and join us: