I caught myself whistling in my own kitchen after dark last week. And I stopped mid-note, like I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't. My grandmother used to say whistling after sundown calls something to your door you didn't necessarily invite. She never explained it further than that. I never asked her to. I just absorbed it the way you absorb a hundred little rules as a child — not because anybody sat you down and taught you, but because it got repeated enough times t

There are days when the cards feel clear. You shuffle, you pull a card, and something inside you immediately says, “Yes. That’s it. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” And then there are other days. Days when life is too loud. Days when your body hurts, your heart is heavy, and even the simplest question feels tangled. I have had a few of those days lately. My body has been asking for more care than usual, and my heart has been carrying some things I am not ready to put in

Sometimes the most important meaning isn't the one in the book. It's the one you notice first. When someone tells me they're learning tarot, one of the first questions they ask is, "What's the best guidebook?" It's a wonderful question. And the truth is, I love guidebooks. I love books in general. I have shelves full of them. I enjoy learning how different tarot readers interpret the same card because every author notices something a little different. The same is true for Goo

There are weeks when life makes perfect sense. This wasn't one of them. I spent most of the week dizzy. Not the kind of dizzy where you stand up too fast and have to catch yourself for a second. The kind where the room tilts for no apparent reason. The kind where walking from one room to another takes concentration because you aren't quite sure your body is going to cooperate. The doctors don't know why. If you've ever left a doctor's office without answers, you know what hap

I don't like uncertainty. I wish I could tell you that after all these years of reading tarot, teaching intuition, and helping other people navigate life's twists and turns, I've learned to gracefully surrender whenever life throws me a curveball. I haven't. This past week I spent most of my time dizzy. Not the kind of dizzy where you stand up too fast. The kind where the room tilts for no apparent reason and walking from one room to another becomes an exercise in concentrati

A few days ago, I was driving to my daughter's house to spend time with my great-grandson. I've made that drive more times than I can count. Like most of us, I have a route I almost always take. It's familiar. It's easy. I could probably drive it without thinking. But that day, something happened. There wasn't a booming voice .There wasn't a dramatic feeling. There wasn't some mystical experience. I simply had a thought. "Maybe I should go the other way today." That's it. It

One of the questions I’m asked more than almost any other is this: “When did you realize you had a gift?” I always smile when I hear that question. Not because it isn’t sincere. It is. But because the answer is probably not what people expect. The truth is, what changed my life wasn’t discovering a gift. It was building a relationship. I’ve been reading tarot for more than fifty years now. Half a century. When you’ve spent that much time with something, it becomes familiar. C

A few days ago, I finally gave up. Not the spiritual kind of giving up where you tell everyone you've surrendered while secretly refreshing your inbox every twenty minutes. The real kind. The kind where you throw your hands in the air and say, "Well, I guess that's over." I've been an influencer with Hay House since around Halloween. Every few weeks, sometimes every month, a package would show up at my door. New decks. New books. New things to explore, learn from, and share w

I pulled two cards for myself the other day. The Hermit. The Ace of Pentacles. On the surface? They've got no business being in the same sentence. One is a crusty old man alone on a mountain with a lantern. The other is a disembodied hand dangling a gold coin out of the clouds like here, have a snack. But together, they said something I needed to hear so badly it almost embarrassed me. Come home. Then plant something. Let me back up. The Hermit is one of my favorite c

A few years ago, I stood in my kitchen at two in the morning eating cold pasta out of a plastic container, staring at a sink full of dishes I couldn't make myself wash. The overhead light was too bright. The house had that eerie late-night quiet that makes every thought louder. Oz was asleep by the back door, twitching in his dreams. And I remember thinking: something was wrong with me. Not dramatic wrong. Not crisis wrong. Just stuck. Like everybody else had received instruc

A few nights ago I was sitting on my couch with a cup of tea and one of those ridiculously soft blankets I always reach for when I’m trying to decompress. The house was quiet. My dog was asleep beside me. Everything was technically fine. And yet I could feel this low hum of exhaustion underneath the surface. Not crisis-level exhaustion. Not rock-bottom exhaustion. Just that familiar feeling of realizing I had spent the entire week showing up for everyone else while barely che

I remember standing in my kitchen, staring at my phone like it had a pulse. It was late. Quiet in that heavy, almost suffocating way. The kind of quiet where every thought gets louder. The fridge humming. The clock ticking too slow. My coffee had gone cold hours ago, but I kept picking it up like maybe this time it would taste different. His name was still there. It had been weeks. And still… there it was. That pull. Not even a thought—more like a feeling in my body. Familiar

For a long time, I thought becoming my best self meant finally having my whole mess sorted out. I thought it meant knowing what I was doing. Having a plan that actually worked. Moving through life like someone who had answers instead of someone who kept asking the same questions to the cards. I thought growth would feel obvious. I thought transformation would announce itself. I thought one morning I’d just wake up arrived. Fifty years of reading tarot will cure you

My kids showed me a photo. They were all gathered around his bed. He’s at home. In a hospital bed set up in the middle of everything that used to be normal life. And there he was. My first husband. The father of my children. The man I haven’t been married to in 48 years. He looked so… gaunt. Frail in a way that didn’t seem possible for someone who used to feel so solid in my memory. His face was sharper. His body smaller somehow. Like life had been slowly taki

The other day I tried to sit up in bed and couldn’t. Not dramatically. Not in some movie-scene kind of way. Just… slow. Heavy. Like my body had quietly decided, No. Not today. My back ached in that deep, dull way that doesn’t respond to stretching. My phone was right there on the nightstand, and I kept thinking, I should go live. I should post something. I should at least get up and make coffee. I didn’t. And the worst part wasn’t the pain. It was the guilt. That

I remember one night sitting on the edge of my bed, phone in my hand, staring at a message I had already read ten times. It wasn’t even a good message. Short. Dry. No real substance to it. The kind of reply that tells you everything you don’t want to admit. And still… I kept rereading it like maybe the meaning would change if I just looked at it long enough. Like maybe if I stayed long enough, they would become who I needed them to be. The room was quiet in that heavy way—lik

What the Death Tarot Card Is Really Trying to Tell You This Ostara I have been cleaning the same corner of my kitchen for three weeks. Not the whole kitchen. Just that one corner — the one with the stack of mail I haven't opened, the pen that doesn't work anymore, and a grocery receipt from January that I'm apparently keeping for sentimental reasons. Every morning I walk past it. Every morning I mean to deal with it. Every morning I make coffee instead. I thought about that c

She’s walking in jello It’s lemon lime And thick Not enough water For it to jiggle “Make jello gelatin and make some fun” Fun! Might be okay, she guessed But not enough water For it to jiggle It’s too thick And it’s lemon lime But she has no choice She’s walking in jello I wrote that this week. Because that’s exactly where I’ve been. Not depressed. Not in crisis. Not falling apart. Just… thick. Moving, but slowly. Trying, but not quite getting there. The world feeling heavy

Money comes in… and then somehow, it’s gone. And if you’re honest, it’s not just frustrating—it’s confusing. Because you’re trying. You ’re not reckless. You’re not out here throwing money around like it doesn’t matter. But still… it doesn’t stay. And at some point, you start to wonder: “What is wrong with me?” Let me tell you something I had to learn the hard way… Nothing is wrong with you. But there are patterns. Quiet ones. Deep ones. The kind that don’t show up in your ba

Have you ever noticed that sometimes your intuition feels crystal clear… and other times it feels like someone turned the volume all the way down? One day you just know something.You know who to trust.You know what decision to make.You know when something feels right or wrong. And then there are other times when that inner voice seems to disappear entirely. People often assume that when this happens, they’ve somehow lost their intuition. They think something is wrong with