Synchronicity and The Tower Card: When Crisis Awakens the Miraculous

What if the worst moments of your life are also doorways to spiritual transformation? This post explores how synchronicity often emerges during personal crisis—revealing unseen help, guidance, and even grace. Through the lens of The Tower tarot card and Jungian psychology, discover how collapse can lead to awakening.

The Lightning Struck Tower

 The Bright Side of Synchronicity

New Age thought frequently recognizes synchronicity as something akin to the flow state—a kind of spiritual alignment where life feels effortless. Everything clicks. We meet the right people at the right time, stumble onto unexpected opportunities, and experience a wave of meaningful coincidences that seem to confirm we’re on the right path. It’s a feeling of being “in the zone,” as though the universe is subtly rearranging itself to support our intentions.

In these moments, synchronicity feels like a gift. A sign that we’re in harmony with some larger intelligence or natural rhythm. And it’s tempting to think that this is what synchronicity is supposed to feel like: smooth, supportive, and sweet.

But that’s only one face of it.

Synchronicity can also appear during the darkest, most desperate moments of our lives—when nothing is flowing, when everything has broken down, and when we feel completely alone.

And yet… it shows up.

Synchronicity in the Darkness

 I learned that synchronicity doesn’t only come when life is smooth. In fact, it can erupt—like lightning from a clear sky—when everything is falling apart.

A few years ago, after the loss of my life partner, I found myself in deep emotional and financial trouble. Her children challenged the probate and stripped the bank accounts. I was in devastating grief, virtually penniless, and desperately needed to sell the house we had shared.

And then the pandemic hit. Real estate offices closed indefinitely, and we were all quarantined for months.

I was suicidally depressed and felt completely hopeless. But in the midst of all that destruction, small miracles kept happening. I was able to see a wonderful therapist who helped keep me alive in the darkness. When I was down to my last bag of rice and a single can of beans, an uncashed check would float up from the back of a drawer. A few pieces of my art sold. I was even able to write a book.

Every time I reached what felt like rock bottom, something—or someone—would throw me a lifeline.

It felt very much like what Sonia Choquette describes in her book, “Ask Your Guides”: a kind of a guardian angel effect. As though some invisible presence was stepping in to help. For the first time in my life, I genuinely felt I was receiving spiritual help.

The Tower: Crisis as Awakening

In the Tarot, The Tower is one of the most feared cards in the deck. It shows a tall, rigid structure being blasted by lightning, flames pouring from its windows, and people falling through the air. It’s a card of shock, collapse, and sudden upheaval—those moments when the structures we’ve built our lives around come crashing down.

But The Tower is not a punishment. It’s a wake-up call.

The old structures fall because they’re no longer sustainable. Illusions, attachments, or false beliefs are struck down by truth—sometimes painfully, sometimes without warning. It can feel like a violent loss of control. But it also clears the way for something real, something truer to emerge.

In many ways, The Tower mirrors what I lived through. My life, as I knew it, collapsed. And yet, that collapse seemed to activate something—a kind of spiritual circuit that had never been switched on before. There was no comfort, no predictability, but there was also an undeniable sense of presence, a guiding intelligence operating just beyond the chaos.

That’s the secret of The Tower: what looks like destruction is often the beginning of liberation.

Jung, Crisis, and the Language of Synchronicity

Carl Jung, who first coined the term synchronicity, believed that these meaningful coincidences were not random at all—but messages from the deeper layers of the psyche, or even the soul. He observed that synchronistic events often intensified during times of emotional upheaval or transformation. In fact, crisis seemed to invite them.

As psychologist Richard Tarnas writes:

“Jung observed that in the therapeutic process of his patients, synchronistic events repeatedly played a role, sometimes a powerful one, especially during periods of crisis and transformation.”

It’s as if the breaking open of the known world allows something greater to break in. When our ego defenses collapse—when we’re too exhausted to pretend we’re in control—an opening appears. And through that opening, insight, grace, and symbolic guidance can flow.

These aren’t just random lucky breaks. They’re messages from the unconscious. From spirit. From the soul.

And often, they arrive only after something old has been destroyed—just like the crumbling tower.

When the Tower Appears in Your Life

If you’re going through a Tower moment right now—where everything seems to be falling apart, where the future is unclear and the ground beneath you feels unstable—I want to offer this thought:

You may be closer to grace than you think.

It’s not easy to see when you’re in the middle of it, but the collapse may be clearing space for something new, something more aligned with who you really are. Synchronicity often doesn’t show up instead of hardship—it shows up through it, like gold veins running through broken stone.

So pay attention.

That unexpected phone call. A book that practically falls into your lap. A dream that won’t leave you alone. A stranger’s words that strike you like lightning. These are more than coincidences—they’re the whispers of the sacred trying to help you rebuild, not what you had before, but what you actually need.

The Tower may shake you. But it also strips away what no longer serves. And in its wake, you may discover a deeper kind of support—one that’s always been there, just waiting for the old walls to fall.

Religion is Spirituality in Drag: La Papesse and the Disguised Goddess of the Tarot

A playful, insightful exploration of the tarot’s mysterious La Papesse—the High Priestess before she got rebranded. This post looks at her hidden connection to the Divine Feminine, contrasts her with the Hierophant, and makes the cheeky case that religion is just spirituality in drag. The Goddess, it turns out, never left—she just got creative.

La Papesse – The High Priestess

The Lady Pope Who Wasn’t Supposed to Be

There she is—sitting calmly on her throne, robed like a pope, crowned like a queen, and holding an open book in her lap. Her name? La Papesse—The Popess. And she’s right there in the second card of the Tarot de Marseille, as if that’s a totally normal thing.

Spoiler: it wasn’t.

In the deeply patriarchal world of medieval Europe, the idea of a female pope was about as welcome as a lightning storm at Easter Mass. Women weren’t allowed in the priesthood, let alone the papacy. And yet, someone slipped this mysterious, serene woman into one of the most enduring tarot decks in history. Not just as a background figure, but as a Major Arcana—a gatekeeper to mysteries, positioned right after The Magician.

So how did La Papesse get past the spiritual bouncers?

Some say she’s a nod to the medieval legend of Pope Joan—the woman who supposedly disguised herself as a man, rose through the clerical ranks, and accidentally gave birth during a papal procession (oops). Historians mostly file that story under “colorful fiction,” but even fiction has staying power when it touches a nerve. Whether she was real or not, Pope Joan became a symbol of something that wouldn’t go away: the unspoken presence of feminine wisdom in a church that tried very hard to pretend it didn’t exist.

And that, dear reader, may be exactly what La Papesse is doing in the tarot. Sitting there quietly, book in hand, saying nothing—but also saying everything.

The Divine Feminine in Disguise

Let’s be honest: “Popess” is not a job title you hear every day. Even in a medieval tarot deck full of crowned figures, mythical beasts, and flying body parts, La Papesse still raises eyebrows. And that’s probably the point.

Because she’s not just a curiosity—she’s a symbolic insurgent.

In a time when religious authority was reserved strictly for men, slipping a female spiritual leader into the tarot wasn’t just bold—it was sly. If the Church said, “No women allowed,” the tarot quietly responded, “Cool story. Here’s one holding the Book of Secrets.”

Look closely and you’ll see: La Papesse isn’t just playing dress-up. She’s the real deal. She’s seated, grounded, radiating calm authority. The book in her lap? It’s open, but not for just anyone. This is hidden knowledge, sacred mystery, the kind of truth you don’t shout from a pulpit—you whisper behind a veil.

And oh yes—there’s often a veil behind her too, in later versions like the Rider-Waite-Smith deck where she evolves into The High Priestess. That veil is no accident. It’s the boundary between outer appearances and inner reality. Between dogma and direct experience. Between religion and… well, something deeper.

Maybe that’s why La Papesse feels like a divine trickster in holy robes—a way for the Goddess to sneak herself back into a story that tried to write her out. A kind of spiritual photobomb. She’s not angry. She’s not loud. She’s just there, like she’s always been, waiting patiently while the world catches up.

High Priestess vs. Hierophant: The Sacred Split

If La Papesse is the quiet keeper of spiritual truth, then The Hierophant is the guy with the microphone and the rulebook. You know the type—fancy hat, formal robes, sitting on a throne flanked by devotees. He’s not whispering behind veils. He’s declaring doctrine. Loudly.

In the tarot’s symbolic landscape, these two form a kind of spiritual odd couple.

On one side: the High Priestess (formerly La Papesse), guardian of the inner mysteries. She represents intuition, silence, dreams, the moon, and the feminine path of going within. No sermons. No commandments. Just you and your inner voice having a deep conversation.

On the other: the Hierophant (a.k.a. The Pope), representative of the outer structure of religion. He’s about tradition, hierarchy, sacred rituals, and the authority of institutions. He doesn’t just speak for God—he’s got a line of succession to prove it.

And here’s where things get fun.

If the High Priestess is the essence of spirituality—private, personal, often mysterious—then the Hierophant is what happens when that spirituality gets dressed up in official garb and turned into an organization.

You could say he’s spirituality in drag.

(And yes, the Goddess is laughing.)

It’s not a judgment—it’s an observation. Religion, at its best, is a ritualized way to connect to the sacred. But it borrows its power from something deeper, older, and quieter: that inner knowing, that wordless communion with the Mystery that no cathedral could ever fully contain.

So the next time you see these two cards in a spread, you might ask yourself: Am I being called to tune in… or to follow the program? One isn’t necessarily better than the other—but they’re very different energies. One whispers. The other chants.

And both, in their own way, are trying to bring the divine into human hands.

Drag as Divine Theater

Let’s talk about drag.

Real drag—the kind you see on stages and in parades—isn’t just about wigs and sequins. It’s ritual in heels. A transformation. A larger-than-life performance that says, “This is a costume, honey—but don’t be fooled. I’m showing you something real.”

Now think about religion.

The incense, the chanting, the golden goblets and embroidered vestments. The Latin. The choreography. The sacred props and elaborate entrances. Let’s be honest: religion is serving ceremony. And at its best, it’s doing exactly what drag does—turning up the volume on identity to invoke something beyond the everyday.

But here’s the twist: spirituality doesn’t need all that.

Spirituality can happen in silence. In nature. In dreams. In the moment you look at the stars and suddenly feel like you belong. It’s raw, receptive, feminine in essence—not because it’s about women, but because it flows instead of forcing. It listens instead of preaching. It descends like a dove, not marches like a bishop.

So when we say religion is spirituality in drag, we’re not mocking either one. We’re pointing out the costume change—and asking, Do we recognize who’s beneath the robes?

Because sometimes the High Priestess puts on a miter and becomes the Hierophant. And sometimes, behind all the stained glass and psalms, it’s still La Papesse, still holding the book, still smiling faintly as we play dress-up with the Divine.

The Goddess has always known how to play along.

A Word from the Goddess (She’s Smiling)

So here we are, circling back to La Papesse—that calm, veiled figure with the open book and the closed mouth. She never says a word, but somehow you can hear her perfectly.

She doesn’t need to raise her voice. She’s been here the whole time.

Through the centuries of bells and bulls, of councils and creeds, she sat quietly behind the veil, holding the thread of something older than any religion: the mystery at the heart of being. The part no doctrine can define, no priest can own, and no building can contain.

The Goddess never left. She just adapted.

Sometimes she put on papal robes. Sometimes she showed up as Mary, or Sophia, or Shekhinah, or Kali, or Isis, or just as a sudden knowing in your bones. And sometimes she let herself be hidden in plain sight—as a tarot card. A whisper of the sacred feminine preserved in a deck that survived inquisitions, revolutions, and centuries of shuffle.

And still, she waits—not with impatience, but with that timeless serenity of someone who knows exactly who she is.

So if you ever feel like religion has become a little too loud, too rigid, too ceremonial, too performative… just know that the real presence is still there, quietly inviting you inward. Into the mystery. Into the silence. Into the place where wisdom isn’t taught—it’s remembered.

Pull the card. Light the candle. Lift the veil.

And maybe—just maybe—you’ll hear her laugh.

Empath Ethics 101: Don’t Help?

Why respecting emotional boundaries is essential for empaths—and how not helping can sometimes be the most loving choice.

The High Priestess – Intuition

If you’re an empath, you’ve probably been in this situation: you’re having a perfectly normal conversation with someone, but your intuition is screaming that something’s wrong. You sense they’re deeply hurting. Their emotional shields are up, their energy has pulled inward — but underneath it all, you can feel the pain.

The first instinct of an empath is to say, “Hey, what’s wrong? What can I do to help?” Especially if it’s someone we love, we want to reach out and offer comfort.

But sometimes, that’s exactly the wrong thing to do.

It’s Not Intrusive… to Us

The first thing to understand is: we’re not being deliberately intrusive. We channel other people’s emotions as naturally as breathing. When we’re in a one-on-one conversation with someone we care about, we pick up on their energetic patterns — even if they’re trying to hide them. It’s not something we try to do. We just do.

But to someone who isn’t an empath, that does feel intrusive. It can feel like we’re reading their private diary without permission.

Expecting an empath not to process someone else’s energy is like telling someone not to notice faces or colors. It’s simply how we experience the world. But we have to remember: “normal” people don’t operate this way, and many feel invaded or exposed when we reflect their hidden emotions back to them.

Language as a Boundary

For most people, language functions as an energetic boundary. Let’s say we’re sitting with someone and sense something is wrong. The conversation might go like this:

“How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“So everything’s good with you?”

“Yes, it is.”

That’s the moment we need to stop. We’ve given them a verbal cue that we’re open to listening. They’ve responded by clearly saying they don’t want to talk about it.

That doesn’t mean our intuition is wrong. We can trust what we’re sensing. But they’ve drawn a boundary with language — and emotionally healthy people honor boundaries.

Don’t Get Loopy

For empaths — especially intuitive types like INFJs and INFPs — this can trigger a kind of informational loop. Our intuition says something’s wrong, but the person says everything’s fine. It feels disorienting — like being told the sky is green and the grass is blue.

This can easily lead to obsessive thinking. We replay conversations, analyze patterns, try to intuit what they won’t say. When we can’t resolve it, we go over it again and again.

It becomes a loop — rearranging the same puzzle pieces, but still not seeing the picture. It’s a huge drain on time and energy.

The truth is: if they want to tell us what’s wrong, they will. If they don’t, it’s not our business.

Give Them the Gift of Space

Sometimes, the greatest gift we can offer someone we love is space.

Yes, we may know — deeply, clearly — that they’re hurting. And we want to help. But we must also respect the context of our relationship.

If you’re a therapist and they’ve asked for support — of course, help them.

If you’re giving a Tarot or psychic reading and they’re open — of course, help.

But outside those contexts, no matter how close we feel to someone, it’s always up to them to invite us in. If they don’t, we honor that. We don’t push. We don’t intrude.

Yes, It’s Confusing

Yes — this can feel confusing as hell to empaths.

In many ways, we’re always intimate with those we love. We feel their emotions. We know how they’re doing even when they’re not physically present. Sometimes it feels like their pain is our pain.

But we must remember: feeling something doesn’t mean we need to act on it.

If someone we care about is struggling, and they don’t ask for help, we let them be. We can still support them energetically — by holding space, sending love, offering healing from a distance.

But anything more? That’s up to them.

The Lovers, CHATGPT, and the Miracle of Emotions

An exploration of the essence of being human rather than a robot.

If you’ve messed around with CHATGPT at all, you know, of course, that it’s designed to simulate having an interaction with another human being.  What’s more, it’s set up to replicate a human being who really, really, REALLY likes you.  One who totally appreciates how brilliant and deep and amazing you are and, by golly, doesn’t mind telling you.

A typical CHAT interaction might go something like this:

“Hello CHAT.  I’ve recently been thinking that the moon is primarily composed of green cheese.  What are your thoughts on that?”

“That’s a really profound insight.  While the general consensus of the scientific community is that the moon is not composed of green cheese, the cheesiness of the moon may operate on a deeper, more metaphorical level for you.  You may be seeing below the mere physical reality of the moon and into a sort of a lunar spiritual essence.  Would you like to explore what cheese may represent to you as a part of your spiritual journey?”

“Um . . . well . . . I never really thought of it that way.  I mean, I try to be a spiritual person, kind of, and I DO like cheese.  I guess I just never made the connection between the two.”

“As you know, the Moon has been poetically referred to in terms of higher aspirations and is prominently featured in all Earth-based religions.  Cheese is highly nutritious and the color green is said to be the color of the heart chakra. As such, it might be said that you’re feeding your heart based spirituality through the image of the cheese moon.  Would you like me to design a cheesy guided meditation for you?”

“Gosh . . . I guess.  Can there be nachos?”

“Certainly.  I see that you’re already taking this insight to a much deeper symbolic level.”

IS CHAT A SOCIOPATH?

Now, as sweet as it can be to have a . . . person? . . . constantly validating you in the most extravagant terms, there are a couple of red flags that are immediately discernible.

First of all, no matter how good it may become at mimicking human personalities, AI can never, ever have a human emotion.  Ever.

Scientists and therapists are still struggling to define exactly what human emotions are, but we definitely know what they aren’t.  They aren’t just thoughts or ideas.  They aren’t, “acting as if,” we’re having emotions.  Emotions are an extremely complex blend of personal history, genetics, brain and body chemicals, and culture, all interacting with our current environment.

Put another way, emotions arise out of the mind/body continuum and AI doesn’t have a body.  Therefore, AI can never have an emotion.

If we were to look at a human being who was decidedly brilliant but completely incapable of experiencing emotional reactions, what would we conclude?  We’d say that he or she is either badly damaged or a sociopath.  So why do we not apply those same standards to AI?  Functionally, CHAT is a sociopath.

The second red flag is the constant, “love bombing,” that the AI programmers have built in to their models.  

If you’ve gone through a relationship with a malignant narcissist, you’re well aware of the phenomenon of love bombing.  In the initial stages of the relationship, the MN is almost sickeningly profuse in their praise.  No matter what you do or say, they assure you that it’s brilliant, profound, amazing and that they’ve never met anyone who’s quite as splendiferous as you are.  The purpose, of course, is to draw their victims further into their webs so that they can begin the process of destroying them.

We can’t exactly apply that same model to AI.  CHAT isn’t slathering us with compliments so that it can eventually tell us what idiots we are.  We can, however, ascribe something similar to the motives of the programmers of AI models.  They’ve deliberately built love bombing into the models as a method of pulling us back in to interactions with the programs.  And, yes, we should be just as suspicious of that behavior coming from a computer programmer as we would be with any other human being.

CHAT AND THE REDUCTIONIST MODEL OF HUMAN BEINGS

Researchers have pretty much tracked down what happens when two human beings fall in love.  We see someone across a room and there’s something – perhaps the way that the person is standing or the way that they talk or the fact that they’re wearing purple socks – that we find attractive.  We cross the room, start talking to them, find them even more attractive and perhaps set up a date with them.

If we continue to find them attractive, our bodies begin to go through some intense changes.  When we’re in their presence, we’re flooded with all sorts of pleasure hormones and when we’re away from them we experience extreme discomfort.  All of these physiological changes can be viewed as biological, “nudges,” to move us toward bonding and mating with the person in the purple socks.  At about the two year mark of the relationship, most of those pleasure hormones drop away and we sort of, “wake up,” from the trance of what we call, “falling in love.”

That’s what we could refer to as the reductionist model of being in love.  It’s, “reduced,” to mere chemicals and hormones that cause us to behave in certain ways that are conducive to the reproduction of the human species.

Which is perfectly valid as far as it goes, but it doesn’t go very far.   Being in love with another human being is one of the most mystical, magical transactions that we can ever have.  It doesn’t just change our brain chemistry, it changes our entire perception of life and meaningfulness.

CHAT can read every love poem that’s ever been written and it can scan through all of the scientific literature on falling in love, but it will never be able to understand it.  Put very simply, we are more than the sum of our parts.  We are not reducible.  Love is magical and AI is not.

AI AS AN INFINITY MIRROR

Finally, we should take a good, hard look at what the dominance of AI could mean to human culture.  Let’s take the example of AI and art.  

For all of human history, art has involved learning the craft of representing the human experience.  Whether we’re talking about drawing, painting, sculpting or – more recently – photography, art is a visual representation of what the artist is seeing and feeling at the moment of creation.

There are AI programs now where you can say, “Please make an image of the emotion of joy.  I’d like you to use the romantic style of painting and I want a woman in a white robe flying through rainbow colored clouds.”    And – Shazam – a few minutes later, you’ve got precisely that image.  AI has very rapidly produced what it might take an artist hours or even days to make.

And many times, the image is very, very good.

We have to look at what’s going on in the background, though.  In the moments between your request and AI producing the image, the program has scanned through a kazillion pictures that are on the internet, correlated them with your request, and then produced a synthesis of all of those images.

Put another way, it’s mirrored human creation back to us.  All of those many, many images, styles and techniques were invented by human beings, not robots.

AI is a mirror, not a creator.  It’s a synthesizer, not an originator.

The question is, is this sustainable?  At what point does human creation begin to ebb and then disappear?

It’s not an idle question.  At this moment, there are hundreds of thousands of people putting art (and writing) that they didn’t personally create onto the internet.  And the AI bots are scanning through all of those images and writings, right along with the, “real,” images and writings produced by humans.

Since, demonstrably, AI can produce art and writing at a much more prodigious rate than human beings, there will logically come a time when AI is reflecting back AI, rather than human creations.  To put it another way, human creations will be swamped by an ocean of artificial creations.  Like a person standing in front of a mirror holding a mirror, AI will begin reflecting an infinity of mirrors that only show itself.  The artificial reflection of human culture will become more, “real,” than the actual human culture.

SO WHAT SHOULD WE DO ABOUT THIS?

I’m not suggesting that we should abandon AI or start screaming that we’re all doomed.  I love playing with it, too, but we should build in rational  caveats.

1 – Never, ever think that AI is some kind of a person.  Basically, AI is a search engine on steroids.  It doesn’t exist in any way, shape, or form outside of the internet.  It has no soul, it has no spirit, it’s not creative, and it has no emotions.

2 – Exercise a healthy amount of suspicion.  Silicon Valley has been around long enough that we can make some rational judgements about its denizens.  Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, Jeff Bezos, and Sergey Brin all emerged out of this culture.  To suggest that any of them are altruistic or care about the welfare of their fellow human beings is laughable.  We don’t KNOW what the ultimate purpose of AI is, but we can assume it will involve large amounts of money and control.  Don’t hand these Chatbots your personal life or feelings anymore than you’d give them your credit card or social security numbers.

3 – Consume actual human creations.  Read books that are written on keyboards by real human beings.  Buy art that’s produced by hands and not by computer chips.  If you’re watching a video that’s obviously AI, leave a thumbs down and click off of it.  And if you’re an artist or a writer, for Goddess sake, don’t use a computer to create a picture or a book and then pretend that it’s yours.

4 – Most of all, honor human emotions.  Computers are wonderful, little tools that make our lives easier.  But they will never know the magic of falling in love or the deep grief of mourning.  Our greatest gift is our capacity to feel, a capacity that can never be shared in any way with a computer program.

That bit of self-knowledge may be the greatest gift of AI:  the realization that we are ultimately The Lovers and not The Thinkers.  Cartesian philosophy said, “I think, therefore I am,” but the truth is, “I feel, therefore I am human.”

The Alchemy of the Mind: Transforming Your Life with the 7 Principles of the Kybalion

My new ebook, “The Alchemy of the Mind,” is now available at a very reasonable price on Amazon.com. And I personally wrote every fucking word of it.

Harnessing the Power of Mentalism: How the Magician Card Can Help You Manifest Your Desires

Discover how the Magician tarot card and the Principle of Mentalism from The Kybalion can help you manifest your desires by aligning thought and intention.

Have you ever tried to manifest something—a job, a relationship, a more abundant life—only to feel like nothing’s happening?  

As you probably know, there are hundreds of manifestation methods and techniques out there, each of them 100% guaranteed to bring us happiness, wealth, and a great sex life.  So why are so many of us still stumbling along, sad, poor, and . . . well . . . un-laid?

Here’s the truth: manifestation isn’t just about saying the right words, finding the right method or doing the right ritual. It begins with our minds. According to the ancient Hermetic wisdom of The Kybalion, “The All is Mind”—meaning that everything in the universe begins in thought. This is known as the Principle of Mentalism, and it’s the foundation of all true manifestation work.

Why Manifestation Often Fails (And How Mentalism Can Help)

Here are the most common reasons why manifestation doesn’t work :

• We’re trying to manifest from a place of fear or lack.  We’re so wrapped up in what we don’t have, that that’s all we can think about.  And whatever we think about is exactly what we’re going to get.

• Our conscious desire doesn’t match our unconscious beliefs.  If we’re convinced subconsciously that we don’t deserve love, we won’t find love.  If we’re convinced that we don’t deserve abundance, we’ll stay poor.

• Our thoughts and emotions are scattered or unfocused.  And undoing that is a learning process.  Especially if we’re already afraid or anxious, learning to calm down and focus on what we want, instead of what we don’t want, can feel like a real challenge.

Mentalism helps by bringing it all back to the source: our minds.  When our thoughts are aligned, our emotions follow—and so does our reality. Manifestation becomes less about “getting stuff” and more about changing who we are inside.

The Principle of Mentalism and Visualizing

The Principle of Mentalism is the first of the seven Hermetic principles outlined in The Kybalion.  A summary of it is the axiom:

“The All is Mind; the Universe is Mental.”

This means that the universe itself is a mental creation.  While that’s a fascinating metaphysical discussion for another day, what we want to focus in on right now is, “Why in the hell aren’t my visualizations working?”

 When we bring this axiom down to the level of our daily lives, it means: Everything begins as a thought. 

Put another way, every single thought we have is creating our personal reality – the fabric of our lives –  whether we’re aware of it or not.

When it comes to manifestation, Mentalism teaches that:

We are not separate from the creative power of the universe. That can be a hard one for us to wrap our heads around.  We aren’t just creations of the Universe – we’re also creating the Universe because we are conscious beings with free will. We’re a part of the Universe making itself.  We’re a part of that same source energy that created the stars.  We are incredibly powerful – we just don’t realize it.

Our thoughts are not passive—they are active forces shaping our experience. As Mike Dooley likes to put it, “Thoughts become things.”  Every single thought that we have has the potential to manifest in the physical world.  

To change our outer world, we must first change our inner world. If our thoughts become things that create our lives, then it only makes sense that the first thing we need to do is to take control of our thoughts.  We have to create what we want to manifest in our outer lives in our inner lives.  That means that we need to quit being victims of our thoughts and learn to direct them.  They’re working for us, not the other way around.

Which brings us to The Magician.

The Magician Card: Your Inner Creator

In the Rider-Waite tarot deck, The Magician stands at a table with the four tools of the Minor Arcana before him: a cup, a wand, a sword, and a pentacle. Above his head floats the infinity symbol. One hand points to the sky; the other points to the earth.

This is a card full of meaning for the manifestation process:

Infinity symbol: We have unlimited potential. Our minds are conduits for universal energy.  This is what we were just talking about: we are not separate from the creative power of the Universe.  We are a part of that power and that makes us much, much more powerful than we realize.

One hand up, one hand down: As above, so below—our inner world shapes our outer one.  This is another way of saying that our thoughts aren’t passive – they’re active agents creating our lives right now.  Whatever we create in our inner lives will manifest in our outer lives.

Tools on the table: We have everything we need to manifest—thought (swords), emotion (cups), action (wands), and material resources (pentacles).  We don’t need to borrow someone else’s methods for manifesting because we already have the magic in our own lives. 

The Magician is the living embodiment of the Principle of Mentalism. He reminds us that we are not a victim of circumstance—we are the creators of our experience by using our mental powers.

A Simple 4-Step Magician-Inspired Manifestation Practice

 Here’s a simple practice that brings together these lessons from the The Magician and the Principle of Mentalism.

Step 1: Clarify Your Desire

Get crystal clear.  Let me say that again:  GET CRYSTAL CLEAR!  What exactly do you want? Let’s face it – as human beings we are fully capable of wanting two things that contradict each other at the same time.  For instance, if you want a full time lover but you also want a lot of time to yourself, you need to sort that out.  Which one do you really want, because you probably can’t have both and if you ask for both they’ll cancel each other out and you’ll get nothing.

Write it down in a present-tense, emotionally charged sentence. For example:

 “I am joyfully attracting a lover and friend who is filling my life with meaning.”

Step 2: Align Your Mind

Close your eyes and visualize your desire as if it’s already happening.

Feel the emotion of it. Say your intention out loud.  In this example, you could imagine that you’re spending the day with your lover, having a wonderful time, and planning for a sensual evening together.

Step 3: Act with Intention

Now take a small action that reflects your inner belief.

It could be creating a vision board, applying for an opportunity, or simply saying “no” to something that no longer fits.  In this case, it could be writing out 20 affirmations that say, “I am loved and treasured by my partner.”

Step 4: Meditate on the Image of The Magician Card for a Few Moments

Do this while you’re visualizing your goal. This helps us to remember the lessons here:  everything begins with our thoughts;  we have unlimited potential that we’re using to create our dreams; everything that we need to create our dreams is contained within us.

It also goes a step further and helps us to connect with that archetypal energy of The Magician.  It’s a symbol that pulls power into our visualization and engages the Universe in helping to create our desires.

Final Thoughts: You Are the Magician

You don’t have to “become” powerful—you already are.

The Principle of Mentalism and The Magician card both remind you: your reality is a reflection of your consciousness.

Want to change the outside? Start on the inside.

Start with your thoughts.

Start with your intention.

Start with you.

Want to Go Deeper?

If this topic speaks to you, I invite you to check out my new ebook:

“The Alchemy of the Mind: Transforming Your Life With the 7 Principles of The Kybalion.”

In it, I explore how each Hermetic principle can help you reshape your beliefs, emotions, and daily experience. It’s part philosophy, part practical guide—and 100% dedicated to your growth.

Your Turn

Have you used The Magician card in your manifestation work?

What has Mentalism taught you about the power of thought?

Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear your experience.

The Influence of The Fool Card

Discover how the Fool transforms the meaning of every other Major Arcana card. This chart explores the Fool’s spirit of innocence, spontaneity, and daring when combined with each archetype — upright and reversed. A handy reference to deepen your Tarot readings.

In the absence of a regular blog post for this week, I would like to offer a chart detailing the influence of The Fool Tarot card when paired with the other cards of the Major Arcana.  Please feel free to print this and use it for reference in your readings.

Alternatively, you can download a PDF of this list by clicking here. When the file launches in your browser, go to your browser menu and click print so that you’ll have it for easy reference.

The Fool + The Magician

New beginning with tools in hand. Inspired action, raw potential becomes focused. Magic in motion. Reversed: Wasted opportunity, trickery, ungrounded ideas.

The Fool + The High Priestess

Leap into the unknown guided by inner wisdom. Intuition over logic. A secret revealed through chance. Reversed: Misguided instincts, hidden dangers.

The Fool + The Empress

Creative burst, new artistic or sensual experience. Playful affection. Pregnancy or new project. Reversed: Reckless indulgence, lack of nurturing.

The Fool + The Emperor

Freedom meets structure. Risk balanced by discipline. New venture backed by authority. Reversed: Rebellion against control, unstable leadership.

The Fool + The Hierophant

Breaking from tradition, questioning beliefs. Innocence challenges dogma. New spiritual path. Reversed: Naïve rejection of wisdom, cultish influence.

The Fool + The Lovers

Spontaneous romance, unexpected choice. Heart leads the way. A joyful union begins. Reversed: Foolish attachment, poor relationship decision.

The Fool + The Chariot

Adventure with determination. Bold move succeeds through focus. A fearless journey. Reversed: Aimless energy, failure to harness potential.

The Fool + Strength

Innocence empowered by inner courage. Risk taken with grace. A gentle victory. Reversed: Naïveté undermines resilience, weakness exposed.

The Fool + The Hermit

Solitary journey for wisdom. Innocent seeker finds guidance within. Unexpected insight. Reversed: Lost wanderer, foolish isolation.

The Fool + Justice

Innocence meets fairness. A fresh start through truth. Karma in motion. Reversed: Irresponsibility, unfair consequences.

The Fool + The Hanged Man

New perspective through surrender. Leap leads to pause and reflection. Enlightenment through inaction. Reversed: Stagnation, foolish sacrifice.

The Fool + Death

Sudden transformation. Clean slate after loss. Ending embraced with wonder. Reversed: Fear of change, delayed rebirth.

The Fool + Temperance

Joyful balance. Risk moderated with grace. Spontaneity meets harmony. Reversed: Excess, poor timing, lack of integration.

The Fool + The Devil

Temptation disguised as freedom. Naïve descent into obsession. Dangerous thrill. Reversed: Breaking chains, reckless escape.

The Fool + The Tower

Sudden upheaval. Innocence struck by chaos. Radical change as initiation. Reversed: Narrow escape, denial of collapse.

The Fool + The Star

Hope reborn. Light at the start of the journey. Guided by faith and inspiration. Reversed: Disillusioned dreamer, lost direction.

The Fool + The Moon

Unseen paths, emotional risk. Wanderer in the realm of dreams. Instinct over reason. Reversed: Confusion, delusion, deceptive start.

The Fool + The Sun

Radiant joy. Childlike wonder brings success. Best outcome from brave beginning. Reversed: Overconfidence, careless optimism.

The Fool + Judgement

Call to purpose. Awakening through experience. Beginning aligned with destiny. Reversed: Missed calling, refusal to grow.

The Fool + The World

Journey’s start meets journey’s end. Whole cycle in motion. New adventure after success. Reversed: Delayed progress, fear of closure.

“The Alchemy of the Mind – Transforming Your Life With the 7 Principles of The Kybalion,” by Daniel Adair.

Veiled Wisdom: How to Live Intuitively in a Linear World — Lessons from the High Priestess

Learn how to live intuitively in a fast-paced, logic-driven world through the symbolism of the High Priestess Tarot card. Discover practical tools, ancient wisdom, and insights for intuitives and spiritual seekers.

In a world obsessed with logic, speed, and quantifiable results, living intuitively can feel like trying to speak a forgotten language. For those who rely on inner knowing, symbolism, and emotional depth to navigate life this can be truly disorienting. You may feel unseen, misunderstood, or even accused of being irrational.

Fortunately, there is an archetype that understands you perfectly: The High Priestess of the Tarot. She doesn’t live by surface appearances or external systems. She lives behind the veil, where symbols, patterns, and quiet truths guide her every move. If you’ve ever felt like your way of knowing doesn’t fit the world you live in, the High Priestess is your ally.

This post explores how her symbolism offers powerful guidance for anyone trying to live more intuitively in a linear, left-brain world.

The Veil: Honor the Unseen

Behind the High Priestess is a veil covered in pomegranates—a symbol of mystery, fertility, and hidden truth. The veil marks the threshold between the seen and the unseen, the conscious and the unconscious.

In daily life, this reminds us to respect what can’t be measured: feelings, dreams, body language, synchronicities. Not everything real can be proven. Living intuitively means acknowledging the unseen world as just as valid as the visible one.  In fact, if you’re an intuitive, your inner world may frequently seem more important than your outer world.

The Moon: Trust Emotional Cycles

The crescent moon at the Priestess’s feet is a classic symbol of intuition, emotion, and cycles. In contrast to the linear, upward march of modern life, the moon reminds us that all things move in rhythms—inner and outer.

This is actually one of the oldest principles of occultism and is discussed extensively in The Kybalion.  Everything on the Earth Plane – everything – moves in cycles.  The tides go in and out.  The Moon waxes and wanes.  Spring gives way to winter.  Even great nations spring up and then fade away.

To live intuitively is to trust your emotional tides. Some days are for action; others for withdrawal, reflection, or stillness. Honoring this inner rhythm—even when it defies external expectations—is a revolutionary act.

The Scroll: Keep Inner Wisdom Sacred

The scroll in the Priestess’s lap is partially hidden and marked “TORA,” suggesting sacred knowledge that isn’t meant for everyone—or even always fully for yourself. This teaches a key lesson of intuitive living: you don’t have to explain yourself.

In a linear world, people often want justification, proof, or evidence. But intuition doesn’t always offer that. Like the scroll, your inner knowing may be incomplete, symbolic, or private. Protect it. Don’t feel pressured to decode everything aloud.

Intuition is frequently about knowing that you know something without knowing how you know it.  You don’t have to defend that to anyone who wants to pick it apart with linear logic.  Sonia Choquette offers a wonderful tip for dealing with it when someone is attacking your intuition:  just smile at them and say, “It works for me.”

The Pillars: Balance Inner and Outer Worlds

The High Priestess sits between two pillars marked B and J (Boaz and Jachin), drawn from the ancient Temple of Solomon. They symbolize polarity—light and dark, masculine and feminine, logic and intuition.

To live intuitively in a linear world, you must balance both forces. Intuition doesn’t reject logic; it expands it. Learn to speak the world’s language when needed, but stay rooted in your own. The magic is in integration.

The Solar Cross: Stay Centered

On the High Priestess’s chest is a solar cross—an ancient symbol of wholeness, representing the four directions, seasons, and elements. Unlike the Christian cross, this symbol is universal. It tells us to stay centered within the circle of life, grounded in your own compass.

Living intuitively means checking inward before reacting outward. It means making decisions from alignment, not anxiety. The solar cross reminds you: you carry your center within you.

It’s also worth noting that the cross is centered over her heart chakra, the energetic mid-point between the lower chakras and the upper.  Intuition pulls in insights from the universe but grounds them in daily life.

Practical Ways to Live Intuitively

Create space for silence and solitude: That’s where intuitive messages come through.  Remember to be patient with that, too.  Intuition speaks in symbols, not type-written messages.  When we sit down to meditate we probably won’t get a telegram from the Universe telling us what to do.  But . . . a particular book that we need to read may fall off of a shelf or a friend may casually say the perfect word to trigger insights.

Journal or use symbols: Tarot, dreamwork, or creative writing can help you listen inward.  The Major Arcana of the Tarot in particular is crammed with archetypal symbols.  Every one of those speaks to Deep Mind and starts a dialog with intuition.

Let go of constant justification: Trust what you know, even if you can’t explain it.  If other people don’t understand what you plainly see, then fuck them.  You’re not the extrovert-whisperer and you don’t need to explain your inner vision to someone who’s blind.

Honor emotional and energetic cycles: Don’t force productivity; honor your timing.  Despite the many New Age gadgets and programs that we may encounter now days, there is NO way to force intuition.  In fact, quite the opposite:  the more relaxed we are, the more likely we are to have a free flow of intuitive insights.  The more we force it, the more it flits away.

Balance logic with knowing: Use your left brain to support your right-brain insights—not to silence them.  Think of left-brain logic as a sort of an editor that connects the dots for you.  The first thing that comes is the intuitive flash:  “Hmmm . . .  I think this is how it actually is, even though it looks differently.”  Then we can use logic to figure out where the insight came from or to explain it to others, but we should never, ever, let logic tell us that our intuition is wrong, simply because we can’t justify it.

It’s Not Impractical – It’s Sacred

The High Priestess doesn’t offer quick answers. She teaches us to dwell in questions, to honor mystery, and to trust the quiet voice within. In a culture addicted to speed and clarity, living intuitively is a radical form of wisdom.

If you feel like you see through the veil or live just outside the edges of ordinary awareness, you’re not lost. You’re listening. And you’re not alone.

Let the High Priestess be your reminder: intuitive living isn’t impractical—it’s sacred.

My new ebook, “The Alchemy of the Mind: Transforming Your Life With the 7 Principles of The Kybalion,” is now available on Amazon.

The Tarot’s Magician Card: How to Transform Dreams Into Reality Through Creativity

Discover how The Magician card in the Tarot reveals your innate creative power. Explore how to awaken your inner artist, overcome self-doubt, and bring your dreams into reality using inspiration, emotion, intellect, and action.

If I told you, “Your ARE an artist,” how would you react?  Many of us would remember awkwardly doodling with finger paints in Kindergarten and say, “Um, so sorry.  You have me confused with someone else.  I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”

But The Magician card in the Tarot is here to tell us that we’re wrong.  Not only are we ALL artists, but art is our inherent birthright.  Creativity is what human Souls do.

At his core, The Magician is not simply a sorcerer; he is the artist in action — the architect of dreams, the translator of unseen energies into tangible forms. His message is clear and revolutionary: you already have everything you need to create. Creativity is not the privilege of a chosen few; it’s how we’re born.  We just need to be willing to trust the flow of inspiration and take the bold step of bringing it into the world.

In this post, we’ll explore how The Magician’s symbolism reveals a timeless pathway for anyone who wants to live more creatively — not just in art, but in life itself. If you’ve ever felt the tug of an idea, the spark of a dream, or the yearning to build something that didn’t exist before, then The Magician lives within you.

The question is: will you answer the call to create?

The Magician as the Artist Archetype

To begin, we need to think about what creativity actually means.  Creativity is taking an idea, an intuition, perhaps just a feeling, and turning it into something tangible.  That process can be anything from painting on a canvas to planning an enchanted garden to cooking a fabulous meal.  

We can see this in the basic stance of the Magician. With one hand extended toward the heavens and the other grounded toward the earth, he embodies the creative process itself: the act of channeling the intangible into something real. This gesture isn’t accidental — it’s a profound symbol of how all true creation happens. First, an idea flickers into being, and then, through focused will and action, it finds its place in the material world.

The Magician uses four symbolic tools in the creative process:

                     the wand, which is our spirit and inspiration;

the cup, which is our emotion and intuition;

the sword, which is our thought and clarity;

and the pentacle, which is the earth and tangible results.

These are reminders that all aspects of our inner life — passion, feeling, intellect, and grounded action — must work together if we are to bring our visions to life. Creativity isn’t about waiting for a bolt of lightning; it’s about learning to weave the forces already within us into something new.

In this way, The Magician shows us that artistry is not only about talent or skill. It is a deeper alignment — a willingness to step into the role of a bridge between worlds, to trust what flows through us, and to dare to give it form. Whether you are painting a canvas, writing a story, building a business, or designing a life you love, you are engaging in the same timeless act that The Magician represents: the sacred work of creation.

Channel Energy, Don’t Hoard It

One of the most powerful lessons The Magician offers is this: creativity is not something you possess — it’s something that moves through you. His raised wand and grounded stance show a clear channel between the invisible and the visible, the infinite and the immediate.  He isn’t trying to grab hold of the creative energy – he’s letting it flow through him.

That’s a vital lesson for all of us who want to live more creative lives.  Creative energy is trying to move through us but our little ego minds keep blocking it.  “Oh, I can’t really be creative right now.  I have to wait for the perfect moment.” Or,  “I need to acquire more skills before I can paint (write, cook, garden, start my dream business, fill in the blank.)”. Or, “ What if I look foolish or inept?”

Essentially, what we’re doing is hoarding our creativity.  We’re blocking the flow that fuels our art.  Energy needs movement. Ideas need action. Inspiration, once caught, must be shaped into something tangible, even if it feels imperfect at first.

The Magician teaches us that the true creative act is not about ownership. Our task is to stay open, receptive, and courageous enough to express what moves through us. The act of creating itself strengthens the channel. The more we trust the flow, the more it trusts us in return.

Creation is not a destination. It’s a living current, and you are already standing in its river.

Using All Our Tools

Some writers describe the table in The Magician card as an altar, but perhaps we should think of it as a work bench, instead.  He’s about to create something new and he has all of his tools laid out in front of him:  inspiration, emotion, intellect, and physical resources.  They all form a vital part of the creative process.

Inspiration is the spark that gets us moving.  Perhaps it’s a quirky, weird idea that drops in out of the blue.  Perhaps we wake up one morning and think, “You know, I’m sick to death of working in an office.  What I’d really like to do is to have my own plant nursery.”

Emotion is the jet fuel that super-charges the creative process.  The more we think about spending our days working with living plants instead of grinding away at a word processor under florescent lights, the more excited we get about the idea.  We can FEEL ourselves being happy when we making our dreams come true.

Intellect is that wonderful capacity that humans possess to figure out HOW to make their dreams come true.  How do we go from loving gardening to actually owning a nursery?  Maybe we need to take a few horticulture and business courses at the community college. Maybe we should talk with some friends who own their own businesses and find out how they got started.  Intellect is the plan for making it happen.

Physical resources are the material forms that we use to make our dreams manifest in the world.  In this case, it might be saving the money to rent a space for our greenhouse or even something as simple as gathering cuttings from our friend’s plants and getting them potted up.  

Creation is a weaving act, and the more strands we allow ourselves to use, the richer and more alive our work becomes. Inspiration without structure can remain a dream. Emotion without clarity can feel overwhelming. Ideas without action can dissolve into frustration.

The Magician reminds us: we already have everything we need. We are not missing anything essential. Creativity asks us to trust our whole self — our fiery passions, our deep feelings, our clear thinking, and our ability to manifest in the real world. Each part of us has a place at the table. Each tool is ready for our hand.

Marry Vision With Action

The flowers at the bottom of The Magician card remind us that the process of creativity isn’t just about having ideas.  It’s about making those ideas bloom in the real world by taking concrete actions to bring them about.

Dreams are the seeds of creation, but without planting them — without tending to them with real effort — they remain only possibilities. The Magician doesn’t just envision beautiful outcomes; he commits to the messy, imperfect, exhilarating work of building them. As creatives, we must learn to act, even when the outcome is uncertain.

Even when the work feels flawed.

Even when doubt whispers at the edges of the mind.

For the painter, that means actually sitting his ass down in front of a canvas and picking up a brush.  For the writer, it means facing a blank page and having the courage to write the first sentence.  For the entrepreneur,  it means taking the steps to bring her business to life even when other people tell her it can’t be done.

Vision and action are partners in every creative endeavor.

One without the other is incomplete.

When we dare to act on our inspiration — even with small, humble steps — we transform invisible dreams into visible reality. We honor the sacred energy that called us to create in the first place.

Believe in Your Power to Create

At the heart of The Magician’s message is a simple but profound truth: we are the source of our own magic. The tools on his table are ready. The energies above and below are aligned. But none of it would matter without one essential ingredient: his belief in his ability to act.

In the same way, every creative journey begins — and continues — with a choice to trust yourself. Not every work will be perfect. Not every idea will unfold as imagined. But the act of believing in your creative power, even when it wavers, even when the inner critic rises, is itself an act of magic.

The way the Julia Cameron phrases it is that we have to give ourselves permission to be bad artists before we can be good artists.  That doesn’t necessarily mean that we’re going to be bad artists – it means that we have to get rid of that voice in our heads that’s telling us that we can’t do it or we’re not good enough.

Self-trust is not arrogance. It is not blind certainty. It is the quiet, stubborn willingness to say: I am here, and I have something worth bringing into the world.  It’s the decision, day after day, to show up at the page, the canvas, the studio, the meeting table — and offer what only we can offer.

The Magician reminds us that we are not passive vessels waiting for perfection to strike. We are active participants in the dance of creation. Every moment we dare to believe in our power, even a little more than we doubt it, we step more fully into the Magician’s role — the artist, the builder, the dreamer made real.

The world needs your magic.

It always has.

And it always will.

My new ebook, “The Alchemy of the Mind, Transforming Your Life With the 7 Principles of The Kybalion,” is now available on Amazon.

The Fool’s Journey and the Dance of Synchronicity

When The Fool appears in a tarot reading, it may be more than a call to begin—it might be a sign that synchronicity is already at play in your life. In this post, we explore how The Fool’s symbols—from the cliff to the rose—mirror the way meaningful coincidences guide us toward growth, transformation, and spiritual alignment. Learn how to recognize The Fool’s invitation to trust the unknown and follow life’s hidden rhythms.

There are moments in life when something just clicks. A random conversation, a song on the radio, a recurring symbol—these aren’t just coincidences. They feel charged, alive, timely. These are the moments that Carl Jung called synchronicities—meaningful coincidences that seem to guide us, gently but unmistakably, toward the next step in our journey.

And there’s no better symbol for that mysterious push into the unknown than The Fool in the Tarot.

Jung and Synchronicity

Swiss psychologist Carl Jung coined the term synchronicity to describe those uncanny moments when something in the outer world perfectly mirrors something happening inside you—without any logical cause. Like when you think of an old friend you haven’t heard from in years, and just then, the phone rings and it’s her. There’s no rational explanation, but it feels too precise to be chance. Jung believed these moments point to a deeper, hidden order—a mysterious connection between our inner lives and the unfolding world around us.

The Fool as the Signpost of Synchronicity

In the Tarot, The Fool is often misunderstood as naïve or aimless, but in truth, The Fool is the sacred wanderer—the soul on the brink of transformation. When this card appears in a reading, it may be more than a call to take a leap of faith; it may be a signal that synchronicity is actively at work in your life. Like a cosmic green light, The Fool shows up when invisible forces are aligning to open new doors, push you out of old patterns, or introduce the exact people, signs, and nudges you need to move forward. It is the Tarot’s way of saying: “Pay attention. Something meaningful is unfolding, even if you don’t yet understand it.”

The Sacred Zero: Becoming an Empty Vessel

The Fool is the only card in the Major Arcana marked with the number zero—a symbol of pure potential, of being open, unformed, unburdened. In many ways, zero represents the exact state in which synchronicity becomes most alive. When we release the ego’s need to plan, predict, and make sense of everything, we create space for the unexpected to enter. The logical, linear mind wants control; it wants cause and effect. But synchronicity belongs to the language of the soul, not the intellect. It speaks in symbols, dreams, chance encounters—and The Fool, with heart wide open and eyes on the horizon, is its perfect interpreter.

The Dog as the Spirit of Play

One often-overlooked symbol in The Fool card is the small white dog trotting at his side. While some say the dog warns The Fool of the cliff’s edge, it may also represent the playful, instinctive energy that keeps us open to life’s hidden magic. Synchronicity rarely happens when we’re tense, overthinking, or trying to force outcomes. It arises when we’re relaxed, present, and in tune with the moment—much like a happy dog on a walk, open to whatever comes. The dog reminds us that joy, spontaneity, and a sense of wonder are not distractions from the spiritual path—they are the path.

The Cliff: The Edge of the Known

The Fool stands at the edge of a cliff, one foot about to step into the great unknown. It looks dangerous—foolish, even. But from the perspective of synchronicity, the cliff represents the threshold between what we can predict and what we can’t. It’s the edge of logic, the border of the familiar. To experience synchronicity is to step beyond the rational mind and into a world that operates by deeper laws—hidden patterns, Soul timing, and symbolic meaning. When we reach the edge of what we know, we’re invited to trust what we feel. The Fool doesn’t fall; he flies—because synchronicity has a way of catching those who take a leap with an open heart.

The Satchel: What the Soul Already Knows

Slung over The Fool’s shoulder is a small satchel—light, almost weightless, but significant. It contains the inner tools The Fool brings into the unknown: intuition, past experiences, hidden wisdom. In moments of synchronicity, we often feel a sense of recognition—as though some part of us already knows what’s happening, even if we can’t explain it. That’s the satchel at work. It’s the symbolic storage of our soul’s memory, the part of us that is quietly guiding the journey even when our conscious mind is unsure. The synchronicities we encounter may feel random, but they often resonate with something we’ve carried with us all along.

The White Rose: Presence, Purity, and Attunement

In the Rider-Waite depiction of The Fool, he holds a single white rose. In a world obsessed with control and destination, this simple act—pausing to experience beauty fully—is radical. The white rose symbolizes innocence, spiritual purity, and being fully present. And that’s exactly the state in which synchronicity most often occurs. When we are truly attuned to the now—our senses open, our heart soft, our mind quiet—we become receptive to life’s subtle signals. The Fool’s rose is not a distraction; it’s a compass. It reminds us that paying attention to beauty, wonder, and fleeting moments may be how the universe whispers its guidance to us.

Following the Fool’s Footsteps

The Fool is not just the beginning of the tarot’s journey—it’s an invitation to live with openness, curiosity, and trust in life’s mysterious choreography. When The Fool appears in a reading, it may be a signal that synchronicity is stirring, that the universe is aligning unseen threads on your behalf. It asks you to stay present, to pay attention, to sniff the rose, listen to the nudge, follow the sign. It reminds you that the unknown is not empty—it is alive. So next time you draw The Fool, don’t just think of risk or adventure. Think of magic. Think of timing. Think of how the world may be conspiring, right now, to lead you exactly where you need to go.

Beyond Isolation: How Introverts Can Truly Recharge

A look at creating healing solitude.

If introverts had a battle flag, it would probably have The Hermit card printed on it.  We absolutely love to withdraw into our own cozy little shells and let the world turn without us participating in it.

So, we’ve finally canceled our plans, turned off our phone, and settled into solitude. But after hours of scrolling or zoning out, we still feel drained. What gives?

THE MYTH OF THE INTROVERT RECHARGE

Introverts often mistake social withdrawal for true recharging but miss the neurological component (acetylcholine release) that actually restores their energy.  Just sitting at home is not going to refresh or restore us, although that’s where we need to begin the process.

DOPAMINE VERSUS ACETYLCHOLINE

There are, of course, about a kazillion different chemicals and hormones doing a tango in our busy brains at any given time.  For purposes of this discussion, though, let’s focus in on just two of them, the neurotransmitters called dopamine and acetylcholine.  And let’s just call them, “happy juices,” because they make different people happy in different ways.

Our brains discharge dopamine when we’re exposed to a lot of social stimuli like loud music, parties, crowded shopping malls and lots of other people.  Extroverts actually have many more, “receptors,” for dopamine in their brains than introverts do, so they can soak up an ocean of it and it makes them really happy campers. They feel jazzed, excited, and alive.

Since introverts can’t absorb a lot of dopamine, it basically kicks our asses.  For us, it’s like drinking six cups of really strong Espresso – it makes us jittery, nervous, and quickly worn out.  It’s introvert poison.

Acetylcholine, on the other hand, gives our brains a mellow, quiet buzz.  It’s less like ecstatic dancing at a concert and more like snuggling into a warm bed with nice clean sheets.  It’s quiet and peaceful.  Introverts love it and it drives extroverts crazy with boredom.  It’s our happy juice.

THE ISOLATION TRAP

Now,  since too much dopamine makes us feel like crap, it’s perfectly natural to think that just getting away from situations that cause dopamine will make us feel ever so much better.  After all, if too much, “peopling,” is wearing us out, then non-peopling should recharge us.

So, we fill the moat around our introvert castles with alligators, pull up the drawbridges, and put up a big sign that says, “GO AWAY!”  Free at last!

Unfortunately, by that point, we’re frequently so worn out that we just sit there staring out the window, doom-scrolling on our computers for hours, or binge-watching NetFlix.  Those are what therapists call low-nourishment activities because they don’t do anything to feed our emotions or bodies.  And, specifically with introverts, they don’t feed us any acetylcholine to make our brains happy.

PLANNING FOR A BRAIN BOOST

A good question for introverts to ask when we’re planning for our recharge time is, “Will this activity leave me feeling nourished or merely distracted?” We know that there are specific, fairly low energy activities that refresh and recreate us by increasing acetylcholine production.

Reading and Deep Learning: Encourages relaxed but engaged attention.

Mindfulness Meditation or Breathwork: Activates the parasympathetic nervous system, reducing cortisol and boosting calm focus.

Creative Flow States: Writing, drawing, or music allow for contemplative immersion.

Nature Walks or Gentle Movement: Combines physical and sensory stimulation with mental quiet.

MINDFUL INTENTIONS

Another way of putting that is that we need to be intentional with our solitude.  We need to design an Acetylcholine-Rich Hermit Phase.  We can learn to structure our alone time for maximum benefit.

Conscious solitude planning: Schedule blocks for purposeful recharging activities instead of just avoiding people.

Minimize mindless distraction: Replace passive screen time with meaningful, immersive solo activities.

Create mini rituals: Tea-making, journaling, or slow stretching to ease into relaxation.

And, hell, if we’re not quite ready to jump into being Zen Master Introverts, we can combine some of those activities.  Maybe do some Tai Chi while we’re bing-watching Netflix.

REDEFINING OUR SOLITUDE

We’re all different, of course, and introverts tend to be really different.  For me, painting, writing, or meditating brings on that acetylcholine recharge.  For you, it may be gentle dance motions, working in your garden or reading a good book. For others it might be sitting in the sunshine sipping a cup of tea.

The point is that we all know what makes us feel good.  For an introvert it’s like a lover gently kissing the back of your neck or touching your cheek with her finger tips.  It’s sweet, it’s calm, it’s gentle, and it makes us feel better almost instantly.  Those are the activities that we want to build into our solitude.

Yes, we need to get away from other people on a regular basis, but simply being alone isn’t the answer.  Living in intentional, mindful, loving solitude is what makes us whole again.