Beltane Musings: Intuitive Connection and Creativity

Hello, Beauties!

As you well know, today is the first day of the glorious month of May, the date of my late Papa’s birthday. Each year, true to form and without fail, he recited:

“Hip Hooray, the first of May! Outdoor screwing starts today!”

Not the classiest of one-liners, but definitely telling in terms of the pagan roots of his Scottish Heritage. Beltane is the fire festival of fertility and represents the peak of Spring’s verdure and the transition from maiden to mother in the triple goddess tradition. When I was living in the motherland in 2005, I attended a Beltane festival on Edinburgh’s Calton Hill and reveled with the fae and fire-breathers well into the evening. These twin memories make this day a poignant one for me–not only do I honor my grandfather’s memory, but I think back to times of freedom and wildness and living without boundaries or regret.

Whenever May pops her head over the hill, I’m filled with a renewed sense of vigor, zest, intuitive connection and generative creativity.

Perhaps this is why I find myself hosting not one, but two challenges this month, both of which seek to unite us with our inner knowing and our potential to consciously create our experience. The first, #mayjorchallenge, almost spontaneously created itself when I sat down last Sunday and said, “I really want to create an Instagram challenge for May.” I decided upon using the major arcana as my inspiration and decided that I wanted to “put the archetypes to work for us,” so to speak. The questions accompanying each bloomed naturally and organically like the petals of a flower. I looked at what I had created and I thanked the muse and the season for the inspiration.

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If you can’t tell already, I like to go in depth with things, and the more unique and genuine they are, the better.

I am deeply moved by personal narrative–I fell in love with it long before I fell in love with the tarot, and it continues to be my main inspiration for doing the work that I do.

Our stories are our birthright and our legacy, and they form the patchwork of the quilt that represents our experience. As we grow and change and move through our paths, the thread work becomes more intricate, the patterns more varied, and the colors richer. Eventually, we reach a stage where happenings and our reactions to them become gloriously magickal. I read a passage from The Art of Loving by Erich Fromme last night that perfectly illustrates this phenomenon:

I shall become a master in this art only after a great deal of practice, until eventually the results of my theoretical knowledge and the results of my practice are blended into one – my intuition – the essence of the mastery of any art.

I’ve been thinking a lot about intuition lately–of the role it plays in my decision-making, in my tarot reading practice, and in the way I approach spirituality and witchcraft. Earlier last week, my husband and I bought a car–during Mercury Retrograde, no less–the same day we test drove it. Hell, it was the first day we even looked for a car in the first lot we visited. But despite everything working against us, it just felt right, you know? Like this was the car we were supposed to have. There was a bit of logic to back it up (a good deal), but for the most part, it was impulsive and generally ill-advised.

I’m a huge proponent of listening to my intuition, and I’m the first to admit that despite the logical circles I trace in my mind, my gut feeling (when I have one) wins out nearly every time.

Therefore, when the glorious Arwen Lynch let me know it was my turn to proffer a tarot tag to our beautiful YT community, I knew almost instantly (intutively?) That I wanted to write one that focused on intuitive tarot.

The Seven of Swords AKA my most triggering card in the tarot deck.

In it, I explore this idea that our ability to interpret tarot intuitively can be honed, which raises an interesting question regarding intuition in general–is it a practice, or an innate ability?

Honestly, I think it’s a bit of both. As a society, we’ve largely lost touch with that inner knowing that was so prized and revered in the ancient religions. If we can explain something logically or rationally, it’s discarded or stripped of legitimacy. Yet, this inner verve, inner desire, inner compass, inner knowing, is part of what makes us human and of this earth. The Spring blooms into being without argument or decision. We don’t choose who we couple with (especially on May Day!) based solely on how much “sense” our coupling makes. Attraction is an intuitive hit, an epiphany that says, “I dig this person” long before you know much about them. Such is the magick of May, and such is the magick of our very human experience.

Much Love,


How I Learned to Embrace my “Clair”

I believe in science.

For decades it was the divine masculine to my literary divine feminine. The idea that one can’t legitimately assert something without measurable proof is comforting, humbling, and rewarding–if you want anyone to respect your ideas, you’re going to have to do the work to convince them that you aren’t just pulling this stuff out of your ass. And when you do the research and make your observations, you discover a breathtaking explanation for why the world works the way it does and set your audience up for mind-blowing moments.

I love having my mind blown by science. It happens less and less these days, but when it does, my inner smile comes out. It’s a holy experience and I hit my knees at the altar and revel in the beauteous construction of the cosmos.

This is precisely why I’m feeling a bit uneasy these days. As I’ve completely opened myself up to the “woo,” my experiences are less and less rooted in the rational world. Things are beginning to happen that I can’t quite explain, and even stranger, I don’t want to try to explain them. 

Blasphemous, but true.

As a tarot reader, I pride myself on my groundedness: my readings are firmly centered within psychological tradition, I read to provide insight on the present circumstance and not the future, and I don’t channel spirits in my readings. Honestly, I didn’t even believe in the existence of spirits until a dear friend told me he saw them all the time. 

The strange thing is, the more open I’ve become about my profession and spiritual leanings, the more open others have become about the role woo plays in their lives.

These are folks who’ve hidden this side of themselves from me for our entire relationship, and it’s led me to the following questions: “Are we more woo than we commonly let on? How many of us adhere to beliefs that defy nature and science? How many of us experience things we can’t possibly explain? What does that mean for who we are and how we view the world?”

I’ve been feeling my claircognizance, y’all. I just had to come out and say it before I rambled on for another half page as a stalling tactic. It’s something that I’ve been dabbling with since I worked with Tarot as a Tool for Craft and it’s become far more prevalent in my tarot readings than I anticipated. There are things I simply know about a situation without any definitive information to support it, and I can’t adequately explain where the knowledge is coming from. I don’t hear voices other than my inner voice, but sometimes it says things that seem random and unprompted given the card and the position.

Sometimes, it seems, I feel my clients–I latch on to their energy and perspective and gain greater insight as far as their obstacles and options are concerned. 

Considering that I do a majority of my readings online and that some of my clients are hundreds of miles away, this is weird to me, but I’m learning to question it less and embrace it more in the service of my clients.

Honestly, it’s a question of integrity: “Should I silence these messages simply because I don’t know where they’re coming from?” To work around this problem, I attach a disclaimer to these insights: “I’m no medium, but this came through pretty strong, so I thought that I’d include it here.” I never make a guarantee that any predictions will come up in a reading because I pride myself on the legitimacy of my business and in no way do I want to promise anything I don’t feel confident I can deliver.

Yet, I don’t want to limit myself in terms of the guidance I provide, nor do I want to silence my intuition because I can’t figure out a way for it to “make sense.”

Even so, my left brain tells me that I’m fabricating it, that the incense is going to my head, that I’m projecting my own experience onto that of my clients’, that something in the tone of the question tipped me off, that I’m so familiar with the dynamic interplay of human relationships that I unconsciously manifested the message as a result of the information given to me…the list is endless. And no matter how often I try to convince myself that there’s nothing mystical going on here, I just don’t feel like any explanation measures up.

Feeling. That’s the precise sense that’s throwing me for a loop, that’s asserting that all logical explanations are falling short.

It’s always been there, this intuition, and I’ve always been fighting its existence.

It never made me feel comfortable. It made me feel more terror than humility. And it felt much more ominous and foreboding than any reward I ever received. But its mystery, its attraction, its thoughtless knowledge never ceased to intrigue me. Even now as I pen these words, I feel uncomfortable–have I revealed to much? Have I delegitimized my practice? Have I allowed my inner witch too much leeway? I think not. And as I continue on this path of spirit and in my practice of tarot, I secretly wish for more of this unknown, more of what can’t be explained. I wish to revel in the beauteous mystery–not construction–of the cosmos.

Much Love Fellow Seekers and Cardslingers,


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