This morning, the third in a row of hot, bright spring days, I drew the Sun.
The Sun is not a card I draw often, perhaps because I’ve always kinda dismissed it. Its message seems too simple, too easy, somehow. Joy. Success. Life force. When it turns up in readings, I often struggle to expand on a simple ‘this is a good sign, this is the right thing to do, this is going really well.’ According to my tarot card meanings archive, it’s one of only two cards that I’ve never blogged about (the other, bizarrely, being the World).
But finally, today, I needed the Sun.
The coincidence of its migrating geese, perhaps, connecting me to my recent tattoo. Or its blatant reflection of the suddenly-gorgeous weather. After a winter of angsty thoughts and sifting through some shadows within me, its joyful simplicity is welcome. I want to stretch my body, move, life my head and shade my eyes from that too-bright light, feel its rays on my skin and feel that energy of rightness and renewal that comes with the emergence of spring.
The Sun is an absolutely glowing and positive card, reflecting reliability, warmth, light and clarity. It means looking at your life in a new light, and absorbing the sun’s power into your life.
Jennifer Dranttel, The Nomad Guide to the Tarot
I dug out my yoga mat and did an energetic round of salutes to the sun. What a wonderful, life-giving sequence of movements this is; I should really do this more often. Sitting down now, I’m sweating slightly, warm, limber. I can feel my heart beating – not heavily, just a little stronger than usual, letting me know it’s there, pumping oxygen around my body.
I feel awake. Connected.
The Sun connects your inner and outer worlds so that, like the person in this image, you are beaming from within, beautifully adorned without. It is also connected with beginnings, like the emergence of spring, as the sun itself reasserts its presence after the crush of winter. It exhibits happiness, the easy joy that comes with connecting feelings and actions, yourself, and the universe.
Oliver Pickle, She Is Sitting in the Night: Revisioning Thea’s Tarot
This card reminds me of the infinite possibilities available to me. On the eve of yet another house move, it reflects the ever-changing cycles in my own life and celebrates the particularly welcome feeling of motion that comes every few months in my semi-nomadic life.
In recent months I’ve found myself feeling down about all this movement. What I’m seeking in my life right now, contrary to appearances, is a home. A place to invest my energy, plant seeds and nurture plants, volunteer, find a role, make a home and feel rooted, connected. Ironically, in order to find such a place, I’m having to move around a lot…and I’m getting sorta tired of it.
But when I look at the Sun, I feel alive.
Present. Satisfied with right now. I’m no longer filled with wishes and yearnings and frustration about what I just can’t seem to manifest right now. Happy with what’s happening right now, that I’m breathing and learning and growing and watching the seasons change.
The Sun reassures me. It reminds me to be present in this moment right here, right now. It says ‘forget what you don’t yet have, look at what you do!’ It’s the blood rushing through my veins after cycling, or yoga, or sex. It’s me, alive, right here in this moment, living my life. It’s Nina Simone singing ‘Ain’t Got No, I Got Life’, defiance of that concept of more, determination to see beauty in the face of a tough world. A celebration of the knowledge that I am enough.
Because I got life.
The card shown in this post is from the Nomad Tarot by Jennifer Dranttel.
I’m a 30-something writer, artist, tarot reader, and perpetual explorer of the space between thought, feeling, and action.
I believe that spirituality and ritual are for everybody. I’m about the journey, in all of its messy, non-linear, chaotic iterations. I am excited by anticapitalist business and living with my whole entire self present. I use tarot cards to bring forth hidden truth, and ritual to affirm my commitment, over and over, to my ever-shifting path.