Maya and Agatha were preparing to light their Shabbat candles. Their home was dark yet saturated with color, like the ornate panels of the Russian Tarot of St. Petersburg, burnished gold, lapis blues, and deep crimsons. Shadows gathered in the corners like soft velvet curtains, yet everything seemed to glow from within.
At first I did not recognize the sound outside. It was the Shabbat siren, but it did not sound like a warning. It rose and swelled as if neighbors in the street had begun to sing, their voices braiding into one another, welcoming the entrance of Shabbat.
Maya lit her candles first. Agatha stood slightly to one side, hidden from me at first, as if waiting for her moment. Then she approached the table and lit her own candles. Mother and daughter sang the blessing, their voices low and full, and then they looked at me with such love that it felt like a benediction.
The four flames cast halos of honeyed light on their faces. They were dressed regally, their hair piled high like crowns. Their bearing was almost priestly, their necks steady and still, but eyes pouring out joy. Then they began to dance in slow circles, as if enacting the entrance of the Shabbos bride herself, grace entering the world because of their welcoming movements.
In the second part of the dream, the house I love had not been sold after all. I discovered it was only being rented for a year by a doctor and his partner. The loss I had already accepted was not final. In a year, I could make my offer again. The possibility felt like a door quietly reopening, a future not erased but postponed.
Then I was in Eilat, visiting Jude. The sky was clear and blue. We decided we would have our girls’ night at Arlan’s place, and with affectionate conspiracy we made him find somewhere else to sleep. The dream ended not in alarm, but in laughter and belonging.
When I woke, I stepped outside. Birds were already singing, the doves carrying the main theme. The sky was obscured by gray clouds, bundles of mistletoe were visible in the bare branches, the air was just slightly cool. I sat on the porch step listening to the symphony.
A musical night, a musical morning. In a few hours I will go see EPiC, a film about Elvis. Even the day feels scored.
Although I generally dislike oracle decks, I was seduced by the imagery of The Priestess Oracle Deck. Oracle decks don’t carry the weight of centuries of cultural interpretation the way tarot does. They’re usually one or two people’s private cosmology, and readers at psychic fairs inevitably end up consulting the little book instead of reading the image and working with the client.
That said, this deck is more beautiful than I had expected, and the guidebook less incoherent than I feared. I tried one of the recommended spreads. I did, however, rewrite the questions to make them more grounded.
How do I resonate with my life’s purpose?
Anubis
Anubis is a psychopomp, a guide between states. He escorts souls across thresholds. I am in a transitional phase of my life, something familiar is ending and something unexpected is beginning. I need to stop clinging to a former identity and move deliberately through change, releasing what is outdated. This may be stressful, but it is simply a crossing, closer to the Six of Swords than to catastrophe.
How do I awaken my best nature?
Emerald Tablet
The right approach is awareness and acceptance, not force. This is Ḥesed balanced by Gevurah: expansion disciplined by structure. Alignment before action.
How can I connect with the Divine more easily?
Ankh
I can connect to Source through my body. Walking. Breathing. Eating consciously. Touching the physical world. Being fully alive in Asiyah. Connection is not abstraction. It is embodiment.
What guide or aspect of the Divine is around me now?
Diamond Dimension
Clarity. This card aligns with the Father of Swords energy that has helped me revise the deck and evaluate a home purchase. What matters now is discernment and refinement. Cutting away what is unnecessary. It is a search for precision, not ecstasy.
What message does this guide have for me?
Nile
Do not grip too tightly. Trust the momentum already carrying me. Stop micromanaging outcomes. Work steadily. Receive as much as I give. Let developments unfold at a natural pace. Abundance means flow, not frenzy.
What this reading relates to in my life now:
Finalizing the deck for publication
Proofreading the pamphlet
Purchasing a condominium near the synagogue
Forming a business and filing copyrights
Writing the companion book over the next nine months
What the spread is actually saying:
I am shedding a previous identity.
I am entering a more integrated one.
I should not rush the next phase.
I must remain physically grounded.
I should allow the work to mature at its own pace rather than forcing completion.
I am at a threshold and the correct posture is steadiness.
This reading did not confirm my usual resistance to oracle decks.
Tarot is a language shaped over centuries; its symbols are stable enough to argue with. Oracle decks, by contrast, often arrive interpreted, inflated with metaphysical promises and cosmic flattery.
And yet, when stripped of exaggeration and returned to image, symbol, and lived context, this one became a mirror. Tarot trains the reader to think. Oracle decks tempt the reader to believe. In this case, I chose to do both. Discernment and receptivity are not opposites. I filtered the deck’s language through my own framework and still allowed the symbols to speak.
