Just the Tarot

THE EMPRESS AND THE ART OF FLUNKING OUT OF EARTH SCHOOL

A playful look at the New Age paradox of being “perfect souls” who still come to “Earth School” to learn lessons. The post explores both views and suggests that real growth comes not from suffering, but from joy, play, and becoming more fully ourselves.

There’s a rather large pothole in New Age philosophy that I keep tripping over. Let’s call it The Earth School Fallacy — the strange contradiction between “We are perfect divine beings” and “We’re here to learn lessons because… well, we’re NOT perfect divine beings.”

Somehow, we manage to carry both of those ideas around in our heads and not notice that they don’t quite fit together.

THE EARTH SCHOOL MODEL

You’ve heard this one. If you’ve been on a spiritual path longer than a week, you’ve probably used this one.

Earth, we’re told, is a sort of cosmic classroom we incarnate into repeatedly. Each lifetime is a syllabus of Very Important Lessons, and with each incarnation we supposedly level up until we become Spiritually Perfect.

In this model, we actually choose our life challenges before we’re born.

Have a temper? Great! Let’s incarnate into a family whose daily activities include pushing all of your buttons like they’re competing for a prize. Assuming we don’t murder each other we eventually learn enough humility and patience and – SHAZAM – we transform into Mahatma Gandhi.

Have an obsession with sex? Wonderful! Let’s incarnate into a world filled with gorgeous, eager, naked partners who—

Okay, that one never happens. But you get the drift.

Pass your lessons and you move up a grade.

Fail your lessons and you come back as a cockroach or a MAGA supporter and start over in Spiritual First Grade, eating glue and making macaroni art.

In Tarot Talk, Gaia’s classroom often looks like the Five of Wands — a bunch of souls flailing around wildly until one of us finally figures out what the sticks are for.

THE ANGEL WITHIN

Now we arrive at the second New Age idea — the one that directly contradicts the first.

This is the belief that we’re already spiritually perfect, but we’ve forgotten that fact. Our task isn’t to improve ourselves… it’s to remember that we don’t need improving.

Buddhists describe it as our original nature: a perfect jewel hidden under a crust of plain gray rock. Chip away the rock and — surprise! — you’ve been luminous the whole time.

Joni Mitchell phrased it better than all the gurus combined:

“We are stardust, we are golden,

and we’ve got to get back to the garden.”

In this view, we are pure, radiant beings from Source Energy who come to Earth, promptly forget who we are, and then spend the rest of our lives meditating, journaling, and buying inspirational calendars in an attempt to remember.

Put another way:

We’ve got a sleeping angel inside us, and the angel really needs to get its butt out of bed.

THE CONTRADICTION

Here’s the uncomfortable question no one asks:

If we’re already perfect, why would we CHOOSE to forget that and struggle?

It’s like becoming a master at algebra, then signing up for a lobotomy just so you can relearn quadratic equations from scratch.

Imagine your higher self sitting in another dimension saying,

“I’m a being of luminous perfection. You know what sounds fun? Forgetting everything and getting pissed off at the traffic while I drive to a boring, meaningless job that I hate.”

Something about that doesn’t quite compute.

EARTH SCHOOL AND THE WORK ETHIC PROBLEM

The Earth School model borrows heavily from Christian theology, a worldview in which:

• Humans are inherently sinful.

• Life is full of temptations that make us more sinful.

• If we behave ourselves and avoid having sex with the neighbor’s spouse, we get to go somewhere nice after we die.

In this model, Earth is basically the rough school on the dangerous side of town, with a curriculum of suffering, discipline, and fear.

Just keep your head down, work hard, and eventually—good news!—you’ll die.

THE VEDANTA SOLUTION (AKA: THE EMPRESS APPROACH)

Vedanta, from the Hindu tradition, on the other hand, leans toward Joni Mitchell’s interpretation. It suggests that:

• We are already perfect.

• Life is not meant to be hard.

• We’re not here to learn painful lessons.

• We’re here to experience, enjoy, and expand.

If the Vedanta version of Earth School has a model, it’s not the stern monk or stressed-out student — it’s The Empress.

She’s not here to ace the test. She’s here to savor the banquet.

Play, creativity, pleasure, beauty — these are not distractions from the spiritual path.

They are the spiritual path.

That’s a really hard concept for Westerners to wrap our heads around. We’re taught from the moment that we’re born that life is a series of assignments that we’re supposed to complete and that the next assignment will be better than the last. That’s really the way that our whole society is set up. We go to kindergarten so that we can go to grade school so that we can go to high school so that we can go to college or trade school so that we can get jobs so that we can get promotions so that we can retire comfortably and have enough money to pay for our funerals.

If we do all of that, we’ve been, “successful.” If we don’t, our lives have been meaningless.

When someone tells us that the whole purpose of Earth School might actually be recess, it feels slightly insane.

LIVING SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE

We can argue both sides.

If you lean toward Earth School, you can point to all the suffering and struggle that seem baked into our reality. As the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes famously put it, human life often appears “nasty, brutish, and short.”

But if you look again, you’ll also see breathtaking amounts of love, generosity, joy, and compassion.

So what’s the truth?

Probably something in the middle.

No, we’re not perfect angelic beings slumming on Earth…

but we can be.

Maybe life isn’t about learning painful lessons, and maybe it’s not about effortless perfection either.

Maybe it’s simply about becoming more yourself, more awake, more playful, more alive.

And oddly enough, the way we get there isn’t through suffering…

it’s through joy. It’s through learning how to play.

We don’t have to wait until we die to graduate.

We can do that right now — as soon as we remember that recess was always the point.

Surviving the Season: A Light-Hearted Guide to Beating SAD Without Losing Your Mind

This post explores the realities of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) with a humorous twist — why the winter blues hit so hard, how light deprivation messes with our brains, and what actually helps. From sunrise-mimicking light boxes to Vitamin D3 and CBT-SAD reframing techniques, this guide offers practical, affordable ways to lift your mood when the days get dark. Includes a free downloadable PDF of 15 winter affirmations to help rewire your thoughts and make the season feel gentler, brighter, and a whole lot more manageable.

Are you still suffering from the cosmic hangover known as the time change?

Maybe you can’t sleep at night but can barely keep your eyes open during the day. Maybe you’re stumbling through the month like a melancholy robot — mostly upright, mildly conscious, but deeply unimpressed with existence.

And isn’t it cruelly ironic that exactly when we’re all miserable from light deprivation, the government decides to turn the lights off an hour early?

Thanks, folks. Really helpful.

Light and Happiness (a Love Story as Old as Humans)

Humans have a deep evolutionary connection with light — not metaphorical light, not spiritual light, not “good vibes” light — we’re talking about actual photons hitting your eyeballs. For centuries, nearly every culture has tried to cheer up the dark months by adding more light: bonfires, candles, lantern festivals, torches, flaming wheels, glowing turnips… you name it, someone set it on fire.

Even our pop songs know what’s up:

• You are the sunshine of my life.

• You light up my life.

• I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day.

• Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy.

But when there isn’t enough light?

We become depressed, anxious, sluggish, and mildly feral. We want to curl up under a quilt with a 40-pound bag of potato chips and hibernate until April.

In short:

Light = joy.

Dark = sadness.

This is not complicated.

The Sun Tarot Affirmation Poster available on Etsy

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): The Winter Blues With a Capital B

The official psychological name for the winter blues is Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD — which is honestly too accurate. It ranges from “a little down” to “I may never be cheerful again and also don’t touch me.”

Depending on which study you read, SAD affects anywhere from 5% of Americans to 10 million people, with symptoms like:

• chronic sadness

• sleep pattern chaos

• irritability

• carb cravings

• emotional flatness

• hiding from society like a depressed woodland creature

If you’ve ever had it, you know what a total beast it can be. While everyone else is decking halls and singing carols, you’re sitting at home thinking:

“Crap… three more months of this.”

I’ve had SAD kick my ass more than once, so I was very happy to discover that it’s now the subject of its own therapeutic specialty:

CBT-SAD — Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for Seasonal Affective Disorder.

And it’s not as complicated as it sounds.

The Three Pillars of Beating SAD (According to CBT-SAD)

1. Increase Your Light

This one feels obvious:

If darkness is the problem, light is the solution.

But not just any light.

You need a blast of sunrise-level brightness first thing in the morning — something that tells your brain:

“Hello, it’s daytime, stop making melatonin.”

Enter: the mood-enhancing light box.

These used to be huge contraptions you practically had to strap to your head. Now they’re about the size of a tablet, reasonably priced, and honestly kind of pleasant.

Light boxes work because they:

• mimic sunrise

• raise serotonin

• lower melatonin

• reset your circadian rhythm

• tell your brain to get out of bed and stop being a raccoon

This is the one I use because it’s inexpensive and has great reviews:

2. Vitamin D3 (Your Winter Sunshine Backup Plan)

We naturally get Vitamin D from sunshine — so of course, in winter, our levels tank. Add the fact that we’re bundled head-to-toe like sentient laundry bags, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for deficiency.

Low Vitamin D contributes to:

• low serotonin

• flat dopamine

• brain fog

• irritability

• low energy

• general “I’m over this” mood

Supplementing D3 helps stabilize:

• serotonin

• dopamine

• inflammation

• sleep-wake cycles

• mood regulation

And best of all: it’s cheap.

You can grab it on Amazon or at the pharmacy.

3. Reframing the Way You Think About Winter

This is where the cognitive part comes in.

My sister once pointed out that constantly referring to winter as “the dark times” might not be the healthiest mindset. Fair enough.

If we’ve had rough winters in the past, we tend to brace for them like emotional storm preppers:

• “I hate winter.”

• “I dread those long dark months.”

• “Wake me up when it’s spring.”

These thoughts become self-fulfilling prophecies.

CBT-SAD teaches us to rewire those expectations and rewrite our inner scripts — not with toxic positivity, but with seasonal intelligence.

For example:

• Winter is not the enemy — winter is the exhale.

• Early nights are invitations to gentler evenings.

• Light is scarce now, so I become intentional with it.

• Winter is not a shutdown — it’s a recalibration.

These reframes help your brain reinterpret winter as:

• restorative

• quiet

• intentional

• gentle

• rhythmic

Instead of something to dread, it becomes something to work with.

I’ve included 15 winter reframes as a free downloadable PDF that you can get by clicking here:

CBT_SAD_Winter_Reframes Download

Final Thoughts (and a Pep Talk)

If SAD is hitting you hard, it’s worth finding a good therapist who understands seasonal depression. But even without professional help, these three pillars can make a huge difference.

Hopefully, this little article gives you a few ideas about how to get the Bah Humbug out of your brain and bring some light back into your winter.

And remember:

Light returns. It always returns.

The Fool as Antidote: The Dictator Versus the Inflatable Frog

From inflatable frogs to the Tarot’s Sacred Jester, here’s why humor and play can puncture authoritarian posturing—and help renew our courage.

Is it possible that what may save us from the political disaster we’re living through is pure Fool energy? Could it be that—more than protests and lawsuits—what ultimately rescues us is dancing, delight, and unapologetic Foolishness?

Portland, Expecting Doom… and Choosing Play

For months I dreaded a federal show of force in Portland, Oregon. My intuition said it was the logical target for a maximal authoritarian flex. Portland has all the necessary history. It was the headquarters for the American Nazi movement prior to World War II. And then there was a long, loud counter-history—artists, woo-woos, college kids, mystics, nude bike rides, and the endlessly invoked specter of “Antifa.” In short: the perfect symbol for the far right to try to crush.

When deployment was announced—National Guard plus a strong contingent of the ICE Orcs — I braced for the worst. Instead, Portlanders greeted it with protesters dressed as inflatable frogs and dancing bananas. Someone declared an “emergency nude bike ride,” and thousands of bare bodies on glittering bicycles poured into the streets.

The effect? Paralysis by absurdity. How does a macho, heavily armed ICE Orc “win” against a dancing banana? Left-brain force met right-brain play and simply short-circuited. The nation watched inflatable amphibians wiggle across our screens—and we laughed.

Remembering the Original Fool

We forget: in the oldest Tarot, The Fool wasn’t a tidy wanderer in tailored tights. He was a street entertainer—juggler, dancer, illusionist—utterly at home in an inflatable frog suit. In medieval courts, the Fool doubled as Sacred Jester, the one person allowed to lampoon the king and point out when the Emperor had no clothes.

That’s what Portland’s play did: it punctured the costume of power.

Why Laughter Works

Authoritarianism demands reverence. It thrives when we’re solemn and frightened. Laughter breaks the spell. It reveals the man behind the curtain, the baggy suit, the orange pancake makeup. Humor pulls us back into the Universal flow of playfulness and creativity, where life replenishes itself. Authoritarianism sits outside that flow; it eventually collapses under its own rigidity.

A Fool for Dark Times

We often gaze at the modern, elegant Fool and forget his deeper medicine. The original Fool brought giggles and belly-laughs during dark eras. That may be precisely what we need now.

Does this mean we abandon lawsuits, organizing, or policy? Of course not. It means we season courage with joy, protest with parody, pressure with play. When we add the Fool, we recover something essential: our sovereign refusal to be grim.

The Vanguard in Frog Suits

I didn’t expect the resistance to arrive on two wheels in nothing but body paint, but here we are—and it makes perfect sense. The antidote to the present darkness may well be to harness Fool energy and refuse to stop playing.

Let’s keep showing up with discipline and delight. March and mock. Organize and improvise. Because when we laugh together, power’s mask slips—and light gets in.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – complete definitions and layouts for doing your own Tarot readings.

The Top Ten Tarot Cards That Indicate Healing

Discover the top ten Tarot cards that symbolize healing, recovery, and renewal. From The Star to The Hermit, explore how the cards reveal your path toward balance, peace, and wholeness.

When you’re working with the Tarot, certain cards appear as gentle messengers of recovery, renewal, and wholeness. Whether it’s physical, emotional, or spiritual healing, these ten cards remind us that balance and well-being are always within reach.

1. The Star

The ultimate card of healing and hope. It promises renewal after hardship and invites you to open your heart to divine light and self-trust.

2. Temperance

Balance, integration, and moderation — the alchemy of opposites. Healing flows when extremes are softened and peace returns.

3. The Sun

The warmth of vitality and joy. The Sun restores the life force, illuminating health, positivity, and the return of childlike energy.

4. The Four of Swords

The body and mind’s call for rest. Recovery through stillness, meditation, and withdrawal from stress.

5. The Six of Swords

Moving away from turbulence toward calm waters. Healing through distance, clarity, and emotional peace.

6. The Ace of Cups

Renewal of the heart. Healing through love, forgiveness, and self-compassion; a cleansing flow of feeling.

7. The Queen of Pentacles

Earthy nurturing energy. Healing through care, nourishment, and connection to the body and natural rhythms.

8. The Three of Cups

Healing through friendship and community. Emotional recovery by rejoining the circle of support and joy.

9. The Ten of Pentacles

Long-term stability and health. Healing in the sense of “wholeness” — when life feels safe, abundant, and grounded again.

10. The Hermit

Healing through introspection and solitude. Finding the inner light that guides you back to your own wisdom.

Using the Cards for Healing

When these cards appear in a spread, ask yourself: What part of me is ready to recover?

Healing doesn’t always mean fixing something broken — sometimes it means remembering you were whole all along.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – a complete set of definitions for all of the cards, including layouts and instructions, available on Amazon.

The Magician: Symbols of Manifestation

The Magician shows how thought becomes form.
From roses and lilies to the infinity symbol, every detail reveals the art of manifestation — the meeting of spirit, will, and action.
Discover what each symbol means and how The Magician teaches conscious creation.

The Magician stands at the threshold between spirit and matter, reminding us that creation begins in consciousness. Every element in this card — from his roses to his raised wand — tells the story of how ideas become real.

Let’s look closely at the symbols that make the Magician such a powerful image of manifestation.

🌹 Roses and Lilies – Desire and Purity

At the Magician’s feet, red roses and white lilies intertwine. The roses symbolize passion and vitality — the raw energy of desire. The lilies represent purity, clarity, and spiritual truth.

Together they tell us: creation requires both — the fire of wanting and the innocence of trust.

✋ The Raised Hand and Pointing Finger – “As Above, So Below”

With one hand holding a wand to the heavens and the other pointing to the earth, the Magician enacts the Hermetic axiom: “As above, so below.”

He channels divine inspiration downward into form, bridging worlds. It’s a reminder that every idea you manifest must be grounded in action.

⚡️ The Double-Ended Wand – Energy Flows Both Ways

The wand itself has two tips, showing that energy moves in a circuit. Inspiration doesn’t just descend — it also ascends, rising from the material back into the spiritual.

When you create something authentic, the universe responds in kind. Power flows in both directions.

🌀 The Infinity Symbol – Eternal Creative Flow

Above his head floats the lemniscate — the sideways figure eight of infinity — mirrored again in his serpentine belt, the ouroboros that eats its own tail.

These symbols whisper that creation is endless. There is no true beginning or ending, only perpetual transformation. Every manifestation becomes the seed of the next.

🎀 The Headband – Focused Intention

Around his brow, the Magician wears a simple white band. It signifies concentration — the mind harnessed and directed.

Magic without focus is daydreaming; focus without inspiration is drudgery. The headband marks the moment when clarity and will fuse.

❤️ The Red Robe – Passion in Action

Red is the color of vitality, courage, and physical energy. The robe says: ideas alone are not enough — they must be acted upon.

Beneath the robe, his inner tunic is white, showing that true power is driven by purity of motive, not ego.

🌞 The Yellow Background – Light of Consciousness

The entire scene glows in radiant yellow, representing illumination and awareness.

This is the color of intellect, clarity, and awakening — the mind fully alive. The Magician works in daylight because his magic is conscious, not hidden.

🧰 The Tools on the Table – Mastery of the Four Elements

Before him lie the wand, cup, sword, and pentacle — the emblems of fire, water, air, and earth.

They show that he commands all aspects of creation: spirit, emotion, thought, and matter.

Nothing is missing; he already holds everything needed to bring vision into being.

🔢 The Number One – The Point of Origin

As the first card of the Major Arcana, The Magician represents beginnings — the spark of individuality, the “I am” moment.

He’s the point where potential first becomes personal power. Every creative act starts here: the decision to say yes to your own ability.

🌟 Bringing It All Together

Every symbol in The Magician tells the same story: you are the conduit between heaven and earth.

Your thoughts, feelings, and actions are the instruments on his table.

When you align them with clarity and purpose, magic isn’t mysterious — it’s inevitable.

So the next time you draw The Magician, take a breath and remember:

You already have everything you need. All that remains is to raise your wand — and begin.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – a guidebook for reading the cards with complete definitions and sample layouts, available as an ebook on Amazon.

The Top Ten “No” Cards for Taking a New Job

When the Tarot says no, it’s often saving you from a storm ahead. This article explores the ten cards that most often warn against taking a new job — from the Tower’s sudden collapse to the Devil’s golden handcuffs. Learn how to recognize when the energy around a position is toxic, unstable, or simply not aligned with your higher path. Sometimes walking away is the most empowered move you can make.

Sometimes a new opportunity looks great on paper, but the cards tell a different story. When these ten Tarot cards appear in a career reading — especially in key positions like Outcome, Challenge, or Advice — they often signal that the timing or energy around a new job just isn’t right.

1. The Tower

Sudden upheaval, chaos, or destruction. The Tower warns that this job could collapse unexpectedly — layoffs, toxic leadership, or a company shake-up that leaves you scrambling. Proceed only if you thrive on change and can land on your feet fast.

2. The Devil

Temptation disguised as opportunity. This card often signals golden handcuffs — a job that looks lucrative but erodes your freedom or values. Watch for manipulation, burnout, or a boss who wants control more than collaboration.

3. The Ten of Wands

Overload and exhaustion. The job might demand everything you’ve got — and then some. This card suggests taking on too much responsibility, often without the recognition or compensation that makes it worthwhile.

4. The Five of Swords

Office politics and power struggles. The Five of Swords points to a competitive or hostile environment where people win at your expense. If you sense drama or hidden agendas during the interview process, trust your instincts.

5. The Eight of Cups

Walking away. Even if you take the job, this card suggests you won’t stay long — your heart isn’t in it. The Eight of Cups reminds you that emotional fulfillment matters more than a paycheck.

6. The Seven of Swords

Deception or hidden motives. This could mean shady company practices or a job offer that isn’t what it seems. Get everything in writing and read the fine print — twice.

7. The Five of Pentacles

Financial instability or lack of support. This might be a company struggling to stay afloat or a position that doesn’t pay enough to sustain you. Be cautious about promises of “growth potential.”

8. The Four of Cups

Apathy and disengagement. This job could leave you uninspired or emotionally flat. If you’re already feeling unmotivated, this may just be more of the same in a different package.

9. The Hanged Man

Stagnation. The Hanged Man suggests a lack of progress — your talents might be undervalued or your advancement delayed. If the job feels like waiting in limbo, it probably is.

10. The Ten of Swords

The painful ending. Whether it’s betrayal, burnout, or a layoff, this card says “enough.” The Ten of Swords is the Tarot’s final full stop — a clear “No” that urges you to let this opportunity pass and prepare for a fresh start elsewhere.

Closing Thoughts

A “No” from the Tarot isn’t always bad news — it’s often protection in disguise. These cards help you see beyond surface appeal and recognize when a job may drain your energy or steer you off your true path.

Sometimes the most powerful word you can say to the universe is no — because it creates space for the right yes to appear.

Feel free to leave questions in the comments section and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – A complete guide to Tarot readings available on Amazon.

Healing Our Week with the Tarot: Using “Antidotes” for Negative Energy

Weekly Tarot as mindfulness: forecast your reactions, apply the antidote (compassion, joy, courage), and make your inner world a peaceful place

There’s an internet meme I really love that says, “Maybe the day had a shitty you.” It’s a good reminder that our own energy creates a lot of what we experience as being, “outside of us.” Let’s talk about a very simple mental hygiene routine with the Tarot that we can use to keep our energy clean and positive.

The Buddhist Practice of Antidoting

Buddhism has long recognized that positive emotions are good for us and negative emotions are bad for us. There’s nothing revolutionary about that simple fact. Happiness makes us happy and sadness makes us depressed. What a concept!

Buddhism gets even more radical than that, though, and refers to negative emotions as, “poisons.” Constantly feeling the negative emotions – anger, hatred, jealousy, depression – is like drinking poison. It makes us physically, emotionally, and spiritually sick.

And, if we drink poison, we obviously need an antidote, right? So, in the Buddhist practice, if we’re angry about something we meditate on loving/compassion. If we’re jealous of someone, we meditate on feeling good for them. If we’re afraid, we meditate on courage. Any negative emotion has a corresponding antidote.

We can easily tie that thinking into a Tarot practice that helps us to stay balanced and stress free.

A Simple Weekly Tarot Practice

At the start of each week, try doing a short four-card predictive spread:

1. Current Conditions

2. What Needs to Be Done

3. Factors Working Against Me

4. Probable Outcome

For example, imagine the reading comes up like this:

• Current Conditions – Five of Cups (reversed) – recovering from sadness

• What Needs to Be Done – Seven of Wands (reversed) – exhausted after a battle and feeling defensive

• Factors Working Against – Five of Swords – conflict, tension, disagreements

• Probable Outcome – Five of Wands – ego struggles for dominance; hollow victories.

Without diving too deeply into analysis, we can see this describes a week of emotional recovery mixed with potential conflict.

The energy of the week feels charged—lots of fives, lots of challenges.

But remember: nothing the Tarot predicts is ever set in stone. It simply points to the energetic weather we’re about to walk into.

Finding the Antidote

So, how do we antidote this kind of energy?

By becoming as peaceful and non-reactive as possible.

If the cards forewarn us that conflict is likely, we can consciously generate its opposite: serenity, patience, and groundedness. When we carry that peaceful energy into the week, we DON’T blow up at the rude cashier at the grocery store. We DON’T indulge in road rage when someone cuts us off in traffic. We DON’T snap at a co-worker when they say something sarcastic to us.

When we carry those antidoting energies, we rise above the fray.

We stop feeding the poison and instead create harmony wherever we go.

In the same way, if our reading predicts sadness or depression, we can consciously seek out things that will make us happy. If it predicts that we’re going to be scattered, we can do a little extra mindfulness practice.

Turning “Negative” Cards Into Meditation

This is one of the most powerful ways to meditate with the Tarot.

When we pull a card that seems negative, rather than dreading it, we can pause and ask: What’s the opposite of this energy? If this card represents a poison, what’s its antidote?

If the cards suggest sadness or loss, how can we actively cultivate joy?

If they hint at arrogance, how can we practice humility?

If they predict anger or tension, how can we embody calm?

Each “negative” card becomes a mindfulness bell—an invitation to rebalance our inner world.

Empowerment Through Awareness

Instead of thinking, “This is going to be a rough week,” we can say,“This reading is giving me insight into the energies ahead—and tools to shift them.”

This approach gives us agency.

It empowers us to stay in the flow, improve our own energy, and choose how we’ll respond to life’s ups and downs.

No matter what’s happening around us, we’re the ones who have to live in our own minds—and Tarot can help us make that a bright, peaceful place to be.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – a kindle ebook of Tarot definitions available on Amazon

The Karma Cards of the Tarot: Lessons, Consequences, and Course Corrections

Some Tarot cards seem to carry more spiritual gravity than others — the ones that reveal how actions return, lessons repeat, and growth becomes inevitable. These are the “karma cards,” reflecting the Kybalion’s Principle of Cause and Effect. Each shows us where the soul confronts the consequences of its choices — and how to rise into a new level of awareness.

What We Mean by “Karma”

Karma isn’t punishment or reward — it’s simply the universal law of cause and effect. Every thought, every word, every choice sends ripples into the field of consciousness, and those ripples eventually return to their source. When we see a “karma card” in a reading, it doesn’t mean the universe is judging us. It means the universe is teaching us.

In The Kybalion, this is expressed as “Every Cause has its Effect; every Effect has its Cause.”

In the Tarot, that principle unfolds symbolically through specific archetypes that reveal how energy cycles back around, how old patterns resolve, and how the soul grows through awareness.

The Major Arcana Karma Cards

Justice (XI) — Karma in its purest form

Justice is the balancing of the scales — the moment when truth emerges and consequences unfold. It represents the return of equilibrium after imbalance, reminding us that integrity, fairness, and honesty always realign the cosmic order. When Justice appears, something in your life is finding its balance again.

Judgment (XX) — The higher reckoning

This is karma’s spiritual octave — the point of awakening. Judgment calls us to review the past with clarity and compassion, to rise from the old self, and to claim renewal. It shows that karmic patterns are completing because understanding has dawned.

The Wheel of Fortune (X) — The turning of cycles

The Wheel reveals how karma is always in motion. Life rises and falls, fortunes shift, and every chapter becomes another turn in the spiral of growth. This card reminds us that luck isn’t random — it’s the natural consequence of the energy we’ve set in motion.

The Hanged Man (XII) — Seeing karma differently

When we find ourselves “stuck,” suspended between worlds, it’s often because the universe is asking us to pause and see things from another perspective. The Hanged Man teaches surrender, acceptance, and the wisdom that comes only when we release control. Sometimes, karma simply says: Wait. See. Understand.

Death (XIII) — Karmic transformation

Death ends what has outlived its purpose. It’s the natural completion of a karmic story — the moment when the past dissolves so new life can begin. In karmic terms, Death is liberation, not loss.

The Devil (XV) — Karma we create ourselves

The Devil shows entanglement — the cycles of desire, addiction, and illusion that keep us bound. It’s the reminder that we forge our own chains, and the key to freedom lies within. Whenever this card appears, it invites us to stop creating new karma and start unbinding the old.

The Tower (XVI) — Karma as course correction

When we resist growth, the universe sometimes intervenes dramatically. The Tower represents those moments of sudden change that dismantle illusion and force renewal. It’s not cosmic punishment — it’s divine intervention, clearing away what can no longer stand.

The World (XXI) — Karma fulfilled

Here, the cycle completes. The lessons have been learned, the soul has integrated its experiences, and balance has been restored. The World is the joy of completion — the karmic graduation that makes space for a new beginning.

Karmic Echoes in the Minor Arcana

While the Major Arcana show the grand architecture of karmic movement, echoes of those same lessons appear in the Minor cards.

• Ten of Swords — the final reckoning of a mental or verbal pattern.

• Ten of Wands — karmic burdens carried too long.

• Six of Pentacles — the law of giving and receiving, the return of generosity.

• Eight of Cups — walking away from a karmic cycle that has served its purpose.

Each of these cards shows a microcosm of cause and effect — personal moments of realization that mirror the larger soul journey.

The Deeper Message

The Tarot doesn’t show karma as destiny written in stone — it shows movement, opportunity, and awareness. Every card offers a chance to respond consciously, to change course, to balance energy, and to evolve.

When we recognize a “karma card,” we’re not seeing a sentence. We’re seeing a mirror.

And in that mirror, we find both the story of what has been — and the power to write what comes next.

Please feel free to leave questions in the comments section and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

The Alchemy of the Mind: Transforming Your Life With the 7 Principles of The Kybalion by Dan Adair – A kindle ebook available on Amazon.

The Influence of The Emperor Card

The Emperor in Tarot represents structure, authority, and the disciplined use of power. When paired with the other Major Arcana, his influence reveals how stability, order, and leadership shape every phase of life—from creative beginnings and relationships to transformation and mastery. This chart offers quick interpretations of The Emperor in combination with all 22 Major cards, including reversed meanings. Perfect for Tarot readers seeking deeper insight or a printable reference for their readings.

In the absence of a regular blog post for today, I’d like to offer a chart detailing the influence of The Emperor 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.

Or, if you’d prefer, you can download a PDF version here. Just click on the link and, when it comes up, go to your browser menu and select Print.

The Emperor + The Fool

Establishing order within spontaneity; bringing discipline to new beginnings.

Reversed: Rigidity crushes adventure; fear of chaos blocks growth.

The Emperor + The Magician

Structured willpower manifests results; mastery through disciplined focus.

Reversed: Control issues distort creativity; misuse of authority for personal gain.

The Emperor + The High Priestess

Balancing logic and intuition; wisdom gains form through structure.

Reversed: Repression of the intuitive or feminine; ignoring inner guidance.

The Emperor + The Empress

Perfect union of order and creativity; leadership joined with nurturing power.

Reversed: Domination smothers harmony; imbalance between authority and compassion.

The Emperor + The Hierophant

Law, tradition, and moral authority combine; social order strengthened.

Reversed: Dogmatism or oppressive systems; blind obedience replaces wisdom.

The Emperor + The Lovers

Commitment grounded in integrity; love stabilized through loyalty and structure.

Reversed: Control in relationships; emotional manipulation disguised as protection.

The Emperor + The Chariot

Directed ambition achieves victory; leadership in motion.

Reversed: Power struggle; lack of self-control undermines success.

The Emperor + Strength

Calm authority; inner strength expressed through steady leadership.

Reversed: Harshness; using force instead of gentle courage.

The Emperor + The Hermit

Solitary leadership; wisdom applied in governance or mentorship.

Reversed: Isolation through pride; refusal to listen to guidance.

The Emperor + Wheel of Fortune

Mastering change through stability; fate meets steady will.

Reversed: Resistance to life’s cycles; attempts to control the uncontrollable.

The Emperor + Justice

Fair authority; order maintained through truth and balance.

Reversed: Corruption, hypocrisy, or biased rulings; justice twisted by ego.

The Emperor + The Hanged Man

Surrendering control to gain new perspective; discipline through acceptance.

Reversed: Stubbornness; refusal to yield or adapt leads to downfall.

The Emperor + Death

Transformation of power structures; endings that lead to renewal.

Reversed: Fear of change; clinging to obsolete authority.

The Emperor + Temperance

Measured leadership; control balanced by moderation and patience.

Reversed: Extremism; misuse of authority through lack of balance.

The Emperor + The Devil

The darker side of control; domination and attachment to power.

Reversed: Breaking free from tyranny or self-imposed limitations.

The Emperor + The Tower

Collapse of rigid systems; false structures destroyed to rebuild truthfully.

Reversed: Denial delays the inevitable; abuse of power leads to ruin.

The Emperor + The Star

Hope finds structure; inspired vision made practical through planning.

Reversed: Cynicism and loss of faith; suppression of creative dreams.

The Emperor + The Moon

Authority guided (or confused) by emotion and illusion.

Reversed: Paranoia or manipulation; losing control through fear and fantasy.

The Emperor + The Sun

Confidence and vitality in leadership; stability brings joy and success.

Reversed: Arrogance; demanding recognition rather than earning respect.

The Emperor + Judgement

Accountability; renewal through responsibility and moral clarity.

Reversed: Refusal to own past actions; defensiveness when challenged.

The Emperor + The World

Achievement through mastery and structure; completion of a lasting legacy.

Reversed: Fear of letting go; rigidity blocks full integration.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – A Kindle E-book available on Amazon

The Six of Cups — Protecting the Inner Child of Your Art

The Six of Cups reminds us that our creativity flows from the innocence of the inner child. Protecting that child means honoring your art, choosing who sees it, and never letting careless criticism silence your joy.

When Beauty Meets Criticism

Have you ever created something you thought was beautiful — a painting, an essay, even a garden — and when you finally shared it, the first thing someone did was point out the flaws? Instead of seeing what you were trying to express, they zeroed in on what they thought was wrong.

There’s always a tension between creating and sharing. When we make something real — assuming we’re not just hacking away — we’re revealing a piece of our heart, our soul, our lived experience. A careless critique can feel like a personal attack. It can leave us feeling exposed, vulnerable, even ashamed.

The Inner Child at Play

Picasso once said, “All children are born artists; the problem is to remain an artist as we grow up.” Creativity flows from the same source as play — from the child who once molded mud into castles or splashed finger paints across paper just for the joy of it.

That inner child still lives inside us, but it’s easily wounded. A thoughtless comment can silence it. A dismissive tone can make it retreat. And when that happens, the creative flow — the very essence of who we are — begins to dry up.

The Birth of the Critic

Mel Brooks joked that with the birth of art came the inevitable afterbirth — the critic. And he wasn’t wrong. If you take your creativity seriously, you’ll eventually encounter people who feel compelled to “fix” your work.

Julia Cameron wrote that before we can become good artists, we must first give ourselves permission to be bad ones. Every artist, writer, gardener, or musician produces clumsy beginnings — and even seasoned creators sometimes turn out a piece that just doesn’t land.

The creative process is messy and human. Yet while you’re admiring what went right, someone else may focus only on what went wrong.

The Wound of the Inner Artist

Cameron also warned that exposing your inner artist to harsh criticism is the emotional equivalent of child abuse. It’s like taking the eager, innocent child who offers you their finger painting and saying, “That’s terrible. You don’t really have any talent, do you?”

If you choose a creative life, criticism is inevitable. Some people simply won’t resonate with your vision, and occasionally you’ll make something that misses the mark. That’s part of the territory. But you can — and must — protect your inner artist with the same fierce loyalty you’d show a child under attack.

Learning by Heart

I became an artist late in life and am entirely self-taught. I picked up a mallet and chisel and learned to carve wood through trial, error, and stubborn joy. I learned to paint the same way.

Looking back, I can see how rough those early pieces were — primitive, awkward, untrained — and yet they were full of life. I still remember the pride I felt each time I saw progress take shape beneath my hands.

Claiming the title artist took courage. The first time I walked into a gallery and asked, “Would you show my work?” was absolutely terrifying.

A Pact of Protection

One simple, unbreakable pact guides me still: when someone criticizes my art, that’s the last time they see my art.

Showing your work is an act of intimacy — an unveiling of something deeply personal. The art flows from the child within you, and that child deserves protection.