so you want to feel better
what does it look like on the other side? what happens when we actually do the challenging work of learning how to navigate our collective grief?
february 2026: two of cups // when two waters converge
what is your heart trying to tell you? what are you ready to embrace? what are you swimming through, and what are you moving towards?
so you're afraid of your grief.
grief is tangled up in love, in connection, in what we value. at its core, grief is a response and a reaction to loss — and we don't grieve things that we don't love, that we aren't connected to, that we don't value.
so you're eager to find your flow
i cherish my grief for the truths it offers, for the values it reflects, for the depths of emotion that it connects me with. my grief is a reminder that i still care, that i still listen, that i still hope for a bigger, brighter world. my grief means that i'm still alive.
so you're hovering at the surface
no matter how your grief may feel, no matter what your grief may crave, no matter what your grief might be trying to tell you, there's a tarot card for that, a story for that, a cycle for that.
so you're underwater & overwhelmed
once you start to treat your grief like a gift instead of a burden, once you allow your grief to whisper what it needs, you can let your grief teach you how to envision a more hopeful, beautiful kind of future — not only for yourself, but for the collective.
so your cup is overflowing with grief
i know that talking about grief isn't sexy — but grief is the ultimate misfit, the ultimate rebel. grief has so much to teach us, if we're willing to learn how to listen.
the numerology of 2026
hello, friends, and welcome again to 2026. on the heels of 2025, an intensive and often disruptive year of emergence,
january 2026: ace of cups // headwaters & sources
the ace of cups, when we allow it to be more than a quest, lets us honor what we have already found.
on whatever "enough" is
you've gotta stop being more afraid of failure than fascism.
