Solstice Thoughts: For Empaths Standing at the Edge of a New Year

Reflections on the past year and strategies for empathic coping with the year to come.

Sunday is the Solstice — the darkest day of the year — before our beautiful Earth begins its long, slow climb back into the light. In many ancient traditions, this moment marked the true New Year: not a calendar flip, but a turning point.

Light returns.

And this year, that matters.

A Difficult Year for Sensitive Souls

2025 has been a particularly rough year for many of us. It’s not surprising if you’re ending it feeling exhausted, raw, or strangely unsteady.

We’ve been inundated with horrific images. Norms we once relied on for stability have been violated again and again. The overall effect has been a pervasive sense of unsafety — not just politically or socially, but emotionally.

And while it feels endless, it helps to remember this:

in the span of a lifetime, five years is a very short time.

It’s only been five years since a global pandemic placed our very existence in question. Many of us were still recovering from a prolonged fight-or-flight response when the world was thrown into further chaos. What once felt “crazy” somehow got even crazier.

That constant state of activation takes a toll.

Why This Has Been Especially Hard on Empaths

If you’re an empath, this year may have felt truly overwhelming.

Empaths naturally absorb the emotional atmosphere around them. Other people’s suffering draws us in. Compassion isn’t optional — it’s automatic.

And that means one of our greatest challenges is keeping the outside, outside.

This year has been a near-constant boundary violation.

There has been a deliberate strategy — politically and culturally — to keep people off balance, upset, and reactive. A lack of empathy and compassion at a societal level doesn’t just distress empaths; it can destabilize us.

When the collective feels unhinged, empaths feel it in their nervous systems.

A Choice at the Turning Point

At this Solstice, we face a choice.

We can tell ourselves:

“The world has gone mad, and I need to hide.”

Or we can reframe this moment as:

“This is a difficult — but perfect — environment for learning new skills.”

Skills that help us survive and stay open.

The Core Skill Empaths Need Right Now

To navigate what’s coming, empaths must learn to distinguish:

What energy is mine — and what does not belong to me.

Right now, there is a lot of chaotic energy in the air. That means we need to perform regular internal “fact checks.”

Ask yourself:

• Am I actually in danger right now?

• Am I personally unstable — or do I just feel unstable?

And yes — it’s okay if you are occasionally a little crazy. We all are.

But if you’re not objectively falling apart and yet you feel like you are, that’s a strong sign the energy is coming from outside you.

Once you recognize that, the next question becomes:

How do I respond — without absorbing it?

Practical Strategies for the Year Ahead

Here are a few grounded ways empaths can protect their nervous systems:

Unplug intentionally.

Turn off the news. Step back from social media. Don’t answer every text like Pavlov’s dog. Your attention is precious.

Curate what you consume.

If you spend five minutes wading through the sewage of daily news, balance it with ten minutes of something hopeful — music, art, a book, a walk, a moment of beauty.

Name the manipulation.

Much of what we’re experiencing is designed to keep people in fight-or-flight. This isn’t accidental. Recognizing that helps break its spell.

When fear and outrage are being deliberately amplified, our most radical response is calm, mindfulness, and conscious detachment.

That doesn’t mean indifference.

It means sovereignty.

Walking Toward the Light

The Solstice reminds us that even at the darkest point, the turn has already begun. The light doesn’t return all at once — it comes back slowly, almost imperceptibly, day by day.

As we move into the new year, especially those of us who feel deeply, the work isn’t to harden or shut down. It’s to strengthen boundaries, choose what we engage with, and care for our nervous systems with intention.

That, too, is a form of courage.

May the coming year bring more steadiness, more discernment, and moments of real peace — both within us and, slowly, in the world we share.

Blessed Be.

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:

 

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 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.

How to Shine Your Star and NOT Be a Good Codependent

Do you ever feel invisible, like you’ve disappeared into someone else’s needs? The Star reversed shows how codependency drains us — and how to take back your light.

Of all of the forms of codependency, perhaps the most insidious is the, “good,” kind.  The kind where we’re actually making ourselves less, because it’s the right thing to do.  

Or so we think.  

Our personal light, our Spirit becomes dimmed because we’re trying to make someone else’s shine a little brighter.  If it goes on for too long, we can even forget who we really are.

WHAT CODEPENDENCY REALLY MEANS

When we hear the word, “codependency,” most of us think of the classic scenario involving an alcoholic/addict and the person taking care of him.  In that sort of a relationship, the alcoholic may have the money, but he’s too screwed up to really take care of himself.  The codependent takes care of him – sees that the bills are paid on time, buys the groceries, cleans the house, defends him from criticism, but doesn’t have any personal funds.  

The result, of course, is that neither party is able to survive on their own.  They are mutually dependent on the other for survival and they may hate each other but they also need each other.

At its root, though, codependency is any relationship where we chronically subordinate our own needs and desires to someone else’s.  

That can actually take the form of a noble pursuit.  In a very real sense, good parents subordinate their own needs and desires to rearing their children until the children can fly on their own.  We can also see it in home healthcare situations, where one partner in the relationship is literally too ill to care for herself and the other partner becomes a full-time caretaker.

These are the, “good,” forms of codependency where we’re basically just doing what’s right and what’s loving.  But they can still destroy us over the long haul.

MAKING OURSELVES SMALLER

One of the hallmarks of codependency is shrinking ourselves while inflating someone else.

In the home healthcare situation that I just mentioned, the partner who is healthy may be devoting her entire life to taking care of the partner who is ill, yet insisting that, “it’s no big deal.”  She may sacrifice her social life, her hobbies, her time for herself to an endless round of cooking, cleaning, medications, and taking her partner to medical appointments.  She may have completely given up her own life in order to preserve his.

Because the other person’s light is so dimmed, we do everything we can to make it shine a little brighter.  We praise them, we prop them up, we take care of their every need and we never, ever, let them feel that they are, “less than,” because of their illness.

Over time, this creates an energy imbalance that leaves us feeling like invisible ghosts, like we never had the chance to live as our fullest, most authentic selves because we’ve disappeared into someone else’s needs.

The real tragedy of codependency isn’t just exhaustion – it’s the slow erosion of Self.

THE STAR REVERSED

In the Tarot, the exemplar of codependency is The Star reversed.  When it’s upright, The Star is a beacon of hope, inspiration, and healing.  It’s someone who is fully shining his light into the world.

When it’s reversed, it can point directly to codependent patterns such as:

• Outsourcing your self-worth to another person.

• Over-giving and self-sacrifice until your own cup is bone dry.

• Healing others while neglecting your own healing.

• Depending on someone’s approval to feel hopeful.

• Pretending everything’s fine just to keep the relationship intact.

The Star reversed doesn’t mean you’ve lost your light, though. It means you’ve been dimming it.

THE ANTIDOTE IS RECLAIMING YOUR OWN LIGHT

The medicine for The Star reversed is to consciously reclaim your own radiance:

• Affirm your intrinsic value through affirmations, creative expression, and celebrating small achievements.  That can be as easy as taking a few moments to journal every morning and write about what YOUR dreams are.

• Set boundaries and practice saying “no” without guilt. That can be as simple as saying, “No, I don’t watch that television show,” or, “I’d rather listen to MY music.”

• Shift your focus from “I’ll fix them” to “I’ll care for myself first.” You DO have a right to savor your morning coffee before you make their breakfast.

• Anchor hope internally by nurturing personal goals, spiritual practices, or creative outlets.  Do you love to paint or write or garden?  Insist on taking some time for that every week.  No excuses and no interruptions.  Even if it’s only an hour, that’s your sacred space.

• Practice radical honesty — with yourself and others.  If you hate what you’re doing, you’ve got a right to express that.  If you think you deserve some extra praise and kindness instead of being taken for granted, you’ve got a right to that, too.

• Cultivate interdependence, where two whole people choose connection rather than two halves clinging to each other.  Especially if there’s an imbalance in money, remind your partner frequently of all of the things that you do and how much he’d have to pay to have someone other than you do them.  

Each of these steps helps you pour back into your own cup — and when you shine, you inspire others to shine too.

THE PARADOX OF HEALING

The paradox of this type of codependency is that we usually take it on precisely because we ARE good, loving, kind people. If we see someone who needs help, we help them.  If our child is troubled, we’re there for them 200%.  If our partners are ill, of COURSE we’re going to move heaven and earth to take care of them.

But as it goes on . . . and on . . . and on . . . that good, loving person who is our core being begins to erode.  It isn’t that we become bad people or quit caring – it’s that we simply begin to disappear.  We become nothing but appendages to the needs of the people that we’re caring for.

The lesson of The Star is to let our light shine again.  That core of ourselves that we’re losing through the codependency is what was healing the other person to begin with.  When we lose it, we lose our ability to heal, not just them, but ourselves.

We have to let our lights shine.

“The Star,” a personal affirmation poster available on my etsy site

Recovery, Shame, and The World Card

In therapy or recovery but still haunted by your past? This post explores how The World card can help transform shame and regret into growth. By embracing even painful histories, we can find “closure without a bow” — turning painful memories into guides instead of burdens.

Are you in recovery from alcoholism or addiction but still feel really deep shame about your past?

Are you in therapy but just can’t seem to shake off the depression and anxiety that springs from old beliefs and the ghosts of trauma?

Believe me – you’re not alone.  Many of us can stay sober or work our asses off in counseling, but still feel like we’re going through it with a cinder block chained around our necks.  Guilt, shame, and memories of what we were can weigh us down to a point where we’re almost paralyzed.

The World card from the Tarot can offer a powerful lens for looking at this struggle and finding a way forward.

A SYMBOL OF COMPLETION

In its traditional meaning, The World card celebrates the completion of one cycle and moving onto the next one.  It’s the, “and they lived happily ever after,” card for, “normal,” people

For instance, a person might leave their job after many successful years and move on to another one that presents new challenges.

Or perhaps a parent has spent 18 years raising a child and when the kid goes off to college, the parent finally has time for her own dreams.

Or maybe a writer has spent 2 years putting a book together, it’s finally been published, and now they’re moving on to a new project.

The common theme there is that all of these people can look back and honestly say, “Well done.”

But what happens when we look back at our past and all we can say is, “Oh, christ, what a freaking mess.”

WHEN SATISFACTION ISN’T POSSIBLE

For many of us, the past doesn’t exactly sparkle with bright and cheery accomplishments.  Instead, it can feel like an extended disaster zone.

Maybe we worked at the same job for years and got fired because of poor performance.

Perhaps we wasted many years in a toxic, codependent relationship.

Or we might have been so drunk or drugged up that we destroyed everything and everyone we touched.

Trying to get into a sustained recovery can seem almost impossible under the weight of regret.  The question is:  How do we process all of this and move on to a new life?

WHAT DOES AA SAY ABOUT IT?

When I was trying to help a relative get into recovery, I sat through literally hundreds of Alcoholics Anonymous meetings with her.

Let me hasten to say, I’m not trying to push an AA agenda or wave a Big Book in your face.  It works for some people, it doesn’t work for others, and it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.

What really struck me in those meetings, though, was that some of their members had figured out a way to do this.  They’d sit there and calmly tell the most horrific stories imaginable about their drinking careers and then talk about how happy they were now.

The phrase that was always repeated was, “We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.”  There are two powerful statements in that:

1 – Even if we totally screwed up, we can CHOOSE not to regret it.

2 – We don’t slam the door on it or pretend that it never happened.

It’s not about denying the past.  It’s about reclaiming it.

FACING THE PAST WITH COURAGE

Facing what we’d rather forget requires a lot of courage, and we need to give ourselves credit for that struggle.  It can also mean that we can mine a few diamonds out of the sewage and become better human beings.

The heartbreak of being totally broken can teach us greater compassion for those who are still struggling.

The mistakes that we made can teach us humility.  It’s mighty hard to look down on someone else when you’re lying in a gutter.

The chaos that we endured can teach us resilience and we can realize how strong we truly are to have survived it.

True courage isn’t erasing our story but owning it without shame.

LESSONS FROM NOT SHUTTING THE DOOR

When we keep our past in view – without wallowing in it – we transform it into guidance.  Painful memories can evolve into teachers, showing us what to avoid and what truly matters.

Even more, our honesty can become a gift.  By sharing our experiences, we offer others a road map through their own dark terrain.

We can look at a friend, a lover, or a neighbor and honestly say, “Oh, man, I know what you’re going through.”  Because we do.

The World Affirmation Poster available on my etsy site

CLOSURE WITHOUT TAKING A BOW

I guess that there are, “normal,” people who live more or less all of the time in Happy Land.  They move from one wonderful accomplishment to the next and life comes at them with ease and grace.  That’s what The World card is all about.

For the rest of us, closure means accepting the whole mess that we may have made of things and integrating it, rather than forgetting it.  We accept the fact that we’ve had a lot heavier karma to deal with than most people.  

And we remind ourselves that wholeness isn’t about perfection.  It’s about embracing all that we are as human beings – our triumphs, our failures, and the courage it takes to live through them.

Impostor Syndrome and The King of Wands Reversed

The King of Wands reversed shines a light on impostor syndrome — that nagging sense of never being “good enough.” Learn how this Tarot archetype mirrors self-doubt and discover practical steps to reclaim authentic confidence, reverse the distortion, and own your rightful place at the table.

Do you never feel “good enough?”

Do you feel like, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you do, you’re still falling short?

Does it seem as if everyone around you somehow has more talent, more luck, and is more deserving than you are?

That’s called, “Impostor Syndrome,” and it can destroy our lives.

WHAT IS IMPOSTOR SYNDROME?

Put very simply, it’s the persistent feeling that we’re a fraud, even when the evidence in our life says otherwise.

Self-doubt becomes a constant companion and we dismiss our achievements as, “a fluke,” or, “just good timing.”  Even worse, there’s a chronic fear that someday we’ll be found out, that everyone else will realize that we’ve just been bullshitting our way through life and we don’t have any real substance.

It’s quite common among people who grew up in abusive households because that’s one of the primary messages that they got as kids:  “you’re not good enough.” No matter what you do, you’re still not good enough.

It’s especially common among creatives, leaders, and anyone who’s stepping into a new role in life.  Exactly the people who are already stretching themselves into growth and success.

THE KING ON A SHAKY THRONE

In the Tarot, the King of Wands represents the exact opposite of impostor syndrome.  He radiates confident leadership.  He’s the charismatic leader who can stand firmly in his own power and inspire the people around him.

But reversed?  His fire dims and he hesitates.  His self-belief falters and instead of leading with boldness he spirals into self-doubt.

That’s where Impostor Syndrome rears its ugly head:

Self-doubt in leadership.

Fear of being, “Found Out’ and huge anxiety that others will see through the facade.

Inconsistent Confidence and swinging between moments of brilliance and moments of total collapse.

Avoidance of responsibility and shrinking back from visibility and opportunity.

Overcompensation and burnout where we work WAY too hard to prove our worth until exhaustion sets in.

The King of Wands reversed is the perfect representation of Impostor Syndrome at work.

King of Wands Affirmation Poster available on my etsy site.

HOW TO OVERCOME IT

There’s an old joke that says that if you feel the need to ask your therapist if you’re a narcissist, you’re not one.  The same thing applies to Impostor Syndrome.  If you’re constantly full of self-doubt, you probably shouldn’t be.

The gift of the Tarot is that no card is fixed.  The King of Wands can always be turned upright again and so can our confidence.  Here are a few simple practices that can reverse Impostor Syndrome:

1 – Keep a, “proof journal.”  Write down ALL of our wins, big and small, to create a counter-narrative to the voice that’s telling us that we’re, “not good enough.”  And if that feels uncomfortable, it’s just proof that we really need to do it.

2 – Normalize mistakes.  People with Impostor Syndrome don’t just regret it when they screw up – they beat themselves into a bloody pulp over it.  Every artist, every writer, every visionary stumbles.  That’s part of the growth curve.  As Julia Cameron said, “In order to become a good artist, you have to first give yourself permission to be a bad artist.”

3 – Talk it out.  When we share our doubts with a trusted friend or therapist we get the realistic feedback we need.  When we tell someone we love that we feel like a total fuck-up they will frequently be amazed and even appalled that we could perceive ourselves that way.  Basically, that’s just, “borrowing someone else’s eyes” and they may see our brilliance and talent far more clearly than we can.

THE ONLY IMPOSTOR IS OUR SELF-DOUBT

The King of Wands reversed reminds us that Impostor Syndrome isn’t the truth.  It’s a distortion, an illusion that doesn’t need to define our reality.

Turn the card upright and loosen the chains of self-criticism.  Step into the fiery confidence that we should have and that we deserve.

We’ve already earned our places at the table. Now own it.

Love, Limerence, and The Ace of Cups? How to Heal Obsessive Attraction with Self-Generated Love

Ever fallen in love with someone you couldn’t have? Psychologists call it “limerence,” but spiritually it’s more than just a crush. This post explores the difference between obsessive attraction and true love, why we sometimes fall for the “wrong” people, and how to heal by generating love from within. Featuring insights from psychology, past-life theory, Ram Dass, and the Ace of Cups, it’s a guide to shifting from longing to self-created wholeness.

Ace of Cups – A Tarot affirmation poster available at Synergy Studio.

Did you ever fall in love with someone you shouldn’t have?  Someone who was unavailable, but you still felt intensely attracted to them?

Maybe it was your next door neighbor who was happily married.  Maybe it was a co-worker and you KNEW that a work place romance would be a disaster.  Hell, maybe it was your 8th grade teacher who was just SO perfect in every way.

GETTING CRUSHED

We used to call that, “getting a crush,” on someone.  We meet someone and we just know that we’re supposed to be together, even though everything else is saying, “No, you’re not.”

Psychologists – as psychologists tend to do – have invented a new term for it which is, “limerence.”  Here’s a definition:

Limerence is an involuntary, intense, romantic obsession characterized by intrusive thoughts and a longing for emotional reciprocation, often leading to emotional suffering due to unmet romantic needs.”

In other words, having a crush on someone you probably shouldn’t have a crush on.

IT’S ALL PERFECTLY NATURAL

Now, this has been going on ever since the world began and, of course, it’s caused a passel of trouble. Marriages end, people lose their jobs, reputations and careers are destroyed.  All in the name of love.

Which is puzzling, isn’t it?  Love is supposed to be this grand, wonderful adventure that lets us soar to new heights on the wings of the person we’re in love with.  So why is all of this so painful and frustrating?  

THE CALM, INNER VOICE

I had a teaching dream once about spirit guides and spiritual guidance.  I call them, “teaching dreams,” because they’re very lucid, very clear and they usually have to do with some issue that’s really bothering me.

The subject of this dream was, “How do I distinguish true spiritual guidance from my own desires and ego?”

And the answer was that spiritual guidance is never harsh, never critical, never ominous.  It’s always gentle, loving, and kind and leaves us feeling nurtured rather than criticized or beaten up.

The same principle applies to falling in love.  If it feels sweet and kind, it’s probably real love.  If it involves obsessive thinking, insecurity, self-doubt, or criticism . . . hey, it may be a hell of a crush, but it ain’t love.

WHY DOES IT HAPPEN?

Why do we fall in love with people who aren’t, “right,” for us?

Psychologists, philosophers and playwrights have been trying to figure that one out for hundreds of years and really haven’t made much progress.

My personal theory is that these are relationships that are, “out of time.”  And I don’t mean that in the sense of, “Whoops, we’re out of time.”

Rather, what I’m talking about is old relationships from previous incarnations that have been displaced in time.  The feelings are still there, but they’re no longer appropriate in their old form.

Perhaps we were married to someone or had a super, sizzling hot sexual affair with them two lifetimes ago.  Because of that intense attraction, we meet them again in this lifetime.

Only – guess what? – they’re married to someone else.  Or they’re our teacher or mentor.  Or perhaps we’re straight, but they’re the same sex that we are.

The feelings are just as intense.  The desire to be with them is just as strong.  But it just ain’t happening this go-round.

WHAT SHOULD WE DO?

Well . . . nothing, in most cases.  Just observe it and sit with it.  Realize that you love this person but that the love has to take a different form than romantic love.

We can feel it.  We can cherish it.  But we don’t have to act on it.  If there’s a huge internal conflict about getting romantically or sexually involved with someone, that’s not a very good way to start out, is it?

FILL YOUR HEART WITH LOVE

Ram Dass said that we frequently mistake other people as the source of love, rather than realizing that they’re just vehicles that get us to the love.

When we’re seriously crushing on someone we shouldn’t be crushing on, we feel that as a loss, as a deficit, as if we’ve got this Grand Canyon sized hole in our hearts that only they can fill.

Fortunately, we’ve got this wonderful part of our energy systems called, “the heart chakra.”    It can generate an infinite amount of love because love actually IS infinite.  

We can sit down at any time or place and just meditate on love, meditate on that chakra filling up with that sweet, kind essence that is love and the feeling of not being complete immediately goes away.

IT ISN’T THEM, IT’S US

We’ve been programmed into believing that love always flows out of someone else and into us.  That if someone, “out there,” doesn’t love us, we won’t get the love we need.

That’s really the source of the pain in limerence.  We’re convinced that without that other person’s love, we’re just going to be miserable and unfulfilled.  We can’t get to the love we want and so it hurts.

Not true.

We create our own love, in our own hearts.  We receive love when we open our heart centers and intentionally, consciously fill them up.

THE ACE OF CUPS

When we look at the Ace of Cups we can see this message very clearly.  The cup is our heart and the love isn’t flowing out of another person into the cup.  It’s flowing straight out of the Universe.  Love is everywhere.  It’s a Universal energy and we just need to open ourselves to receiving it.  If we occasionally receive it from another person, that’s great.

But if we don’t, that’s not a tragedy and it doesn’t need to be painful. The source of love is always in our own hearts.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair – A kindle ebook available on Amazon

The Empress and Remembering Creativity

We’re all born creative—but somewhere along the way, we forget. This post explores how to reconnect with your natural creative spark by nurturing it gently, playfully, and without judgment. Centered around the Empress Tarot card and the affirmation “Nurture Creativity,” this is a soulful guide to reclaiming your artistic joy, silencing your inner critics, and remembering who you really are.

A tarot affirmation poster available at Synergy Studio

 Nurture Creativity: A Message from The Empress

We are born creative. That’s not poetry—it’s biology. The moment a child is given space, they draw in the dirt, sing nonsense songs, build forts out of chairs and blankets. As Picasso once said, “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”

Substitute the word artist with creative and the truth holds. It’s not just painters or poets or musicians who are creative—it’s gardeners and cooks and problem-solvers and dreamers. Creativity is our birthright. The trouble is, somewhere along the way, we forget that.

That’s why when I created the affirmation poster for The Empress, I chose the words: “Nurture Creativity.” She’s not just a symbol of beauty or abundance—she is the Earth Mother of inspiration itself. Her power doesn’t lie in striving or perfection. It lies in growing, tending, and trusting.

 So What Happened?

If we’re born creative, why do we have to learn how to nurture it?

Because somewhere along the line, that light was dimmed.

It happens early—often by people who love us. Well-meaning parents may tell their children, “You can’t make a living as an artist,” or “You should do something more practical.” The message is subtle but clear: creativity is fine for hobbies, but not for life.

Teachers, too, can unwittingly squash that spark. A child who colors outside the lines, who doesn’t draw a tree the “right” way, or who writes odd little poems that don’t rhyme may be corrected, redirected, or even shamed. In the name of order, achievement, and conformity, imagination is often sacrificed.

Then there’s the school system itself, which tends to reward left-brain thinking—math, logic, memorization—while cutting funding for art, music, poetry, and play. Creative expression is often treated as an “extra” instead of a core part of human development.

Add to that a culture that idolizes productivity over process, perfection over exploration, and we end up with generations of adults who believe they are not creative simply because they were never given the space—or the encouragement—to grow.

But that creativity didn’t vanish. It just went quiet.

The First Step Back

The first step in being creative is remembering that you already are.

You were born that way. Creativity isn’t something you have to earn, or prove, or qualify for—it’s part of your wiring. Despite all the conditioning you received growing up, despite what teachers, parents, or critics may have said, your creativity never left you.

It’s not gone. It’s just… misplaced.

Think of it like losing your car keys. You don’t panic because they’ve stopped existing—you just start retracing your steps. You check your pockets, your coat, the kitchen counter, under the couch cushion. And eventually, you find them right where you left them. Creativity is like that: it’s tucked into your daydreams, your doodles, your half-finished journal entries and quiet longings. It’s waiting for you to remember.

You’re not starting from scratch. You’re simply coming home.  Here are some simple steps to get you there.

Remember It’s Play

One of the most important things to remember as you reconnect with your creativity is this: it’s supposed to be fun.

You’re not going to get a work evaluation. You’re not going to be graded. There’s no report card, no gold star, and no panel of judges waiting to declare whether what you made is “good enough.” There’s no wrong way to write a poem or paint a picture or design your garden. If it feels good to your spirit, you’re doing it right.

If you catch yourself getting tense, self-critical, or frozen with perfectionism, think back to finger painting as a kid. You weren’t trying to master composition or worry about the light source. You were just joyfully smearing color across a page—ooey, gooey, and gloriously free. You didn’t second-guess whether it was “real art.” You just made it.

That’s the energy you want to invite back. Not pressure. Not performance. Just play.

Get rid of the critics in your head.

Those voices telling you you’re not good enough? They’re not the voice of truth. They’re the echo of someone you met along the way—probably in childhood. Maybe it’s creepy Mrs. Finglestermer, your second-grade teacher who chewed with her mouth open and told you you weren’t “doing it right.” Or maybe it’s your perfectionist father who criticized how you made your bed—so of course now you think your sketch isn’t good enough either.

Whatever form they take, those voices don’t belong in your creative space. Tell them to sit down and shut up.

Second: protect your creativity from external critics too.

Don’t ask people what they think of your poem, or your painting, or your dream, unless they’ve earned the right to hold it gently. If someone mocks or dismisses your work, they never get to see it again. Your creativity is like a small child—it deserves to feel safe, encouraged, and loved. You wouldn’t leave your kid with someone who belittles them. Don’t do that to your art either.

Create in sacred space. Share it only with the people who nurture, not the ones who nitpick. The Empress doesn’t seek approval—she creates because it is her nature.

Return to the Garden

The Empress reminds us that creativity doesn’t thrive under pressure—it blossoms in safety, in slowness, in love. When we nurture our creativity, we’re not just making art—we’re healing the part of ourselves that was told to be quiet, to be small, to be practical. We’re reclaiming the joy of making for its own sake. So whether it’s through paint or words or music or movement, give yourself the grace to grow. You don’t need permission. You only need space. And a little bit of faith.

You are already creative. You always have been. All that’s left is to remember.

“Just the Tarot,” by Dan Adair.  A kindle ebook at available at Amazon.

Learning to Live Without Joy

Many people feel disconnected, numb, or unable to access joy—especially after childhood trauma. This post explores emotional flatness, toxic positivity, and why realness may matter more than happiness.

Did you get ACED when you were a kid?

ACE stands for Adverse Childhood Experience, and the odds are fairly high that you experienced one. ACEs include things like emotional abuse, neglect, parental mental illness, substance abuse, and divorce or separation of the parents.

We tend to think of those kinds of negative experiences as relatively rare. Maybe we got the hell beaten out of us by a crazed, drunk parent—but most people didn’t, right?

After all, just look at how happy everyone else seems.

But according to the CDC-Kaiser ACEs Study, 61% of adults across 25 states reported experiencing at least one ACE. And nearly 1 in 6 (16.7%) reported four or more.

The truth is, a sizable portion of the population is living with the long-term effects of unresolved trauma—including dissociation, emotional blunting, chronic anxiety, and difficulty accessing joy.

The Cultural Pressure to Be Happy

One of the strongest side effects of long-term trauma is the belief that, “Man, I must really be fucked up, because I’m just not happy. Everyone else is happy, but I’m a train wreck. In fact, I’m not even a train wreck, I’m completely off of the tracks.”

That belief is especially potent if you’re American.

American culture—especially through media and marketing—places enormous value on positivity, confidence, and personal success. Like the figures in the Three of Cups, we’re all supposed to be dancing with joy, smiling through life, bubbling over with gratitude. The message is:

“You should be happy, empowered, and in control of your life at all times.”

And if you’re not?

Then something must be seriously wrong with you.

This pressure to appear happy, even when we’re not, creates:

Emotional dissonance: A split between what we feel and what we think we should feel.

Shame about feeling bad: A second layer of suffering on top of the original pain.

Social masking: We say we’re “fine” or “happy” because it’s expected—and we believe others are genuinely feeling that way (even when they aren’t).

Antidepressants and the Emotional Economy

A recent Gallup poll reported that a whopping 78% of Americans say they feel satisfied or very satisfied with their lives. The poll even bemoaned the fact that the “happiness index” was down by two points.

Meanwhile, the U.S. is among the highest consumers of antidepressants in the world.

Some people take them for serious clinical issues—but many of us take them simply to cope with lives that feel emotionally flat or chronically overwhelming.

Years ago, psychologists discovered that one of the most useless surveys in the world was asking teenage boys if they’d had sex. The overwhelming majority said, “yes, of course I have,” —even though many of them didn’t have the slightest clue how to unfasten a bra, let alone what to do next. They thought they were supposed to be having sex, because they assumed all the other boys were doing it—even though they weren’t.

In much the same way, Americans seem to be lying to pollsters about how happy we are, because we think we’re supposed to be happy.

After all, everyone else is smiling.

Even if they’re not.

We’re taking pills to create artificial happiness because we think we should be happy, even when we’re not.

Living With “Flat” Emotions

What if, instead of constantly trying to fix our feelings, we first learned to live with them?

Assuming there’s no organic brain issue involved, there’s always a reason that we’re not happy.

As Gabor Maté points out, when we suffer trauma that we can neither fight nor flee from, we dissociate. We leave our bodies. We stop feeling.

Not feeling becomes a survival mechanism—a way of coping with pain that would otherwise overwhelm and break us.

If you’re among the 61% who’ve had at least one ACE, you’ve probably experienced dissociation and emotional flatness.

If you’re in the 16% who had four or more ACEs, emotional flatness may be how you live most of the time. It’s not that we don’t want to be happy—we just don’t know how.

And that, in itself, can be traumatic, because we’ve been programmed to believe that we should be happy—even when we can’t feel it.

But we can reframe that.

Rather than chasing a happiness ideal that may not be accessible—especially after trauma—it’s possible to:

• Honor emotional flatness as a survival adaptation.

• Shift the goal from happiness to authenticity.

• Value calmness, neutrality, or quiet presence as valid emotional states.

• Find meaning not in chasing joy, but in living gently and truthfully with what is.

This doesn’t mean giving up on healing, but healing might not look like “feeling great all the time.”

It might look more like “being okay with feeling whatever I feel.”

A New Emotional Ethic: Realness Over Happiness

Ideally, we need a massive cultural shift—from:

“I must feel good in order to be okay”

to:

“I’m okay because I’m allowing myself to feel what’s true for me.”

But… yeah. Don’t hold your breath on that one.

What is possible—what’s powerful—is to make that shift within ourselves.

If you’ve had the hell beaten out of you, either physically or emotionally, as a child or as an adult, it’s okay to feel sad.

It’s okay to feel numb.

It’s not just okay—it’s rational.

That doesn’t mean we want to live there forever.

That doesn’t mean we resign ourselves to an existence without joy. But maybe healing begins when we stop pretending. When we stop performing. When we let ourselves feel—or not feel—exactly where we are.

In this new ethic:

• Sadness is not a problem.

• Numbness is a messenger.

• Joy, when it comes, is a gift—not a requirement.

Back in the 1960s the Transactional Psychology movement came up with the catch phrase:  “I’m Okay, You’re Okay.”

To which Elisabeth Kubler-Ross replied:  “I’m Not Okay, You’re Not Okay.  And That’s Okay.”

The first step in the path seems to be honestly saying, “This is who I am.  This is where I’m at. I hurt when I feel and so I try not to feel. And for right now, that’s okay.”

The Alchemy of the Mind: Transforming Your Life With the Seven Principles of the Kybalion

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.