Eight of Cups
Happy Autumn Equinox to those of you who are in the Northern hemisphere. In the cycle of the year, this would traditionally be a time of bringing in our harvests, and withdrawing into a slower, quieter time in tune with the colder and darker months. Though this isn't possible for most of us in our electric-lit 24-hour universe, we can still find moments to tune in to that inner quietness, to harvest what we have planted, and to thank the universe for what we have.
The traditional meaning of the Eight of Cups is that it comes at a moment of difficulty with a decision. In some decks the cups are shattered and broken and can't be used for their original purpose. In the Modern Witch deck the cups are whole but there is something wrong with the pattern, as though one of the cups is missing. There is a confusing energy to this card. the central figure turns their back to us, seemingly intent on their journey. They are dressed for hiking and carrying a staff yet they are on unstable ground: it's not clear how they made the leap from the water behind them to the land barely beneath their feet. This card uses almost the entire palette from the Modern Witch deck, the richness of the colours showing how even the darkest night can be illuminated, washed in moonlight, vibrant with foamy seas and sparkling sand, with contoured mountain ranges, and mossy ground.
The atmosphere of the card is a little alien, and it reminds me of another card full of inner turmoil and confusing atmospheres: The Moon. There are echoes of The Moon's composition, with mountain ranges, a foamy ocean, and the moon itself creating a depth of colour. In The Moon card, the figures have their backs to the viewer, but they have a clear focal point: they appear to be honouring the moon.
In this card, the figure doesn't notice the moon, and doesn't seem aware of how its guiding force is helping them on their way. The moon in the Eight of Cups is at once a sliver of waxing crescent moon and a full moon, or perhaps it is an eclipse. Either way, the power of that hidden waxing moon, full of the potential of the beginning of its cycle, is obscured by a greater planetary body.
What would happen if you stopped moving, stopped turning your back and trying to go it alone, and found your hidden moon?
As always, these are for you to work through with tarot cards, or as journalling prompts if you don't work with tarot.
This week, I want to offer you the chance to make a clear decision about your work, ideally one you have been putting off. This is a clarity spread, so the first card is the lodestar, telling you what the heart of the matter is, and the other three cards offer nuance and depth (and shouldn't be read in any particular order, they are of equal value in exploring that first lodestar outcome).
Focus: Your decision. Sit with the question and feel it in your body. feel your way towards the answer that your body provides and then work through this spread with that specific answer in mind.
Question: What do I need to know about the outcome of this decision?
The first card in the centre top: what is the heart of the matter?
The other three cards are below from left to right with the central card aligned with the top: what else do I need to know about this decision?
You can do the same process for the other outcome(s) of the decision to get the full picture, but often the first spread will tell you enough to feel in your body if it is right for you.
WRITING PROMPTS
What is the atmosphere of the writing you are working on now? How are the characters, or narrator affected by the atmosphere? What would happen if you shifted the atmosphere a few degrees in a different direction? Experiment with adding in a weather system, a change in mood or tone, or conjuring a new atmospheric pressure. What if a break-up on a sunny park bench was interrupted by an eclipse? What if two characters missed each other because the air pollution meant they had to stay indoors? What if someone encountered the unexpected while sheltering from an avalanche? How might a birthday dinner explode beneath the pressure of a secret coming to light?
Which single decision could make a difference to your writing? What could you let go of? What could you experiment with? Are you drawn to writing memoir but feel you have to present it as fiction or vice versa? Are you excited by YA paranormal romance, but scared that you aren't qualified to write it or that you should be working on something literary? Are you sitting on an essay because you're worried that it's going to be misunderstood? Do you want to start a regular writing practice but feel that you have more important things to do for other people, so you never get started? What happens if you make that choice, and do it anyway? What is the worst that can happen if you try that experiment? What is the best outcome?
Where is the hidden moon in your writing? What is the one image, phrase, sentence, cameo character, momentary setting, or crackle of tension between characters that could be the key to unlocking the writing? Is there one thing that sticks out when you re-read, that doesn't quite fit, like a journey that appears to be in momentum but is balanced on a fragment of rock adrift in the sea? Or one thing that is missing, like the gap between the row of cups? Find that hidden moon and see where it takes you.