Hekate Spread

This spread was inspired by The Hymn to Veiled Wisdom and conducted using the Tarot of Oneness by Robin Voisey. Each position is aligned with an aspect of Divine Wisdom and guided by a devotional question. The reading explores themes of health, guilt, creativity, fear, community, and divine trust.

1. Ζηρυνθία (Zirinthía) - Guide me through veils untold...
Question: What am I not seeing clearly about my health and burnout?

The Tower. I see myself falling from a great height, struck by lightning that flings me from the tower’s pinnacle. This is the card of unexpected disaster, often triggered by emotionalism and unclear thinking.

My current physical and emotional state may be unsustainable. The collapse I fear is not just external (job, health), but internal: outdated beliefs about success, productivity, and what “being well” means. The universe is removing what no longer serves me. Burnout may be the consequence of structures built from self-sacrifice or over-responsibility. Their fall is painful, but necessary.

Guidance: Embrace the fall. This is sacred demolition, not failure. Let yourself grieve and let go.

2. Βριμοῖ (Vrímo) - Shake perception’s core...
Question: What truth must I face about guilt and work?

Three of Swords. I see my reflection in shattered glass. My figure is a dark silhouette. My heart is black but glows red with pain. Is the image real or illusory?

I am deeply wounded, physically, emotionally, spiritually. Much of that pain comes from trying to "manage" rather than feel. I've been suppressing the extent of my hurt. The guilt I carry for resting, or disappointing others (especially my boss), is cutting deeper than the situation itself. The illusion is that I owe my well-being to others.

Guidance: Let yourself break. Cry. Name the pain. Stop gaslighting your own exhaustion.

3. Φωσφόρος (Phōsphoros) - Kindle fires of art’s creation...
Question: What is the role of the Eilat Tarot project in my life?

Synchronicity. A golden statue stands on a globe, reaching toward the sun. A radiant bird fills the sky, its light reflected in the sea. A single feather has fallen at the statue’s feet.

This project is not nonsense. It’s sacred play, mystical, intuitive, and not meant to be rationalized. I should trust its unfolding without demanding validation. The fallen feather is a divine sign: “You don’t need proof. You only need presence.” The golden statue may represent me, already standing on wholeness, still reaching toward meaning.

Guidance: Ask for signs. Stop overthinking. Your creativity is a prayer.

4. σωτηρία (Sotería) - Wisdom you bestow...
Question: What do I need to release to be emotionally free?

Seven of Swords. A predator waits above me on a tree branch. The world is dark and silent. I am afraid."

I may be hiding from myself. There’s fear-driven isolation here, born from trauma, perfectionism, or shame. I anticipate betrayal, so I prepare for it constantly. I don’t have to figure it all out alone. My inner predator is a defense mechanism, but it may be keeping love and support away.

Guidance: Release the need to protect yourself from everyone. Begin small, but practice vulnerability.

5. Ορίζοντα (Urízoda) - Knower of the unknown...
Question: Where will I find the loving community I long for?

Embodiment of Cups. (King) A crown and ship-shaped medal hang from a ribbon. A curtain parts. A fish leaps before the crown. Am I meant to wear these symbols?

Emotional maturity and self-acceptance are my path to community. It’s not about finding loving people, but about becoming someone who feels worthy of belonging. Community mirrors my emotional tone. The more I live in truth, the more authentic relationships will flow toward me. The leaping fish suggests a sign will come soon, perhaps through water, dreams, or feeling.

Guidance: Lead with heart, not armor.

6. πολύτιμος μου (Polýtimos mou) - Precious One, embrace me...
Question: How can I trust the divine and feel held?

Nine of Pentacles. A bird is about to alight on a birdhouse hanging in the trees. Does a home await me too?

This indicates a future of safety, serenity, and sovereignty. The birdhouse speaks of homecoming, both spiritual and literal. I am not as far from peace as I feel. Even now, something within me is already at rest. I only need to return to it.

Guidance: Trust the spiritual foundations you've built. You are already in communion, even if it feels quiet.

This spread appears to reveal a familiar arc of soul-work, unfolding in six movements:

1. Destruction of false structures (The Tower)
2. Acknowledgment of the wound (Three of Swords)
3. Opening to mystery and meaning (Synchronicity)
4. Letting go of control and fear (Seven of Swords)
5. Emotional rebirth into connection (Embodiment of Cups)
6. Return to grounded, graceful being (Nine of Pentacles)

This reading offers insight and initiation, a movement from collapse to wholeness, guided by the voices of different aspects of Divine Wisdom.

When Thought Becomes Theater

I recently came across The Decolonized Tarot Illustrated Guidebook and realized I had no idea what the title meant. The more I thought about it, the less obvious the answer became.

Tarot originated in Renaissance Europe as a set of playing cards. It was not imposed on indigenous cultures, nor was it itself a colonized tradition. Over the centuries, however, tarot has been embraced by esotericists, spiritualists, Jungians, New Agers, art nerds, cat fanciers, Babylon 5 fans, and everyone in between. It has always been a tradition that absorbs new ideas.

The artwork in The Decolonized Tarot Illustrated Guidebook is attractive and clearly rooted in the Rider-Waite–Smith tradition. Many of the images closely follow Pamela Colman Smith's original compositions. That makes the title even more puzzling. Rather than replacing the traditional structure, the deck largely works within it.

My concern isn't with drawing on Filipino-American experience. Tarot has always evolved by incorporating new cultural influences. My concern is with using the language of decolonization without clearly explaining what, exactly, is being reclaimed, rejected, or transformed.

Filipino-American culture itself reflects a long and complicated history of encounter and exchange: indigenous traditions, Chinese trade, Islam, Spanish colonialism, and American influence have all left their mark. That complexity is fascinating. It deserves to be explored rather than reduced to a slogan.

By the time I finished reading the website, I still wasn't sure what had actually been decolonized.

Perhaps the title is intended metaphorically rather than historically. If so, I wish the authors had explained that more clearly. Instead, the word decolonize seems to function more as a moral signal than as a historical description.

I'm all for cultural change. I'm even in favor of syncretism, provided we acknowledge that it is syncretism. Traditions have always borrowed from one another, and tarot itself is an excellent example of that process.

But we can't think clearly if the words we use no longer have clear meanings. Every tradition deserves careful questions rather than fashionable slogans.

The most useful and perhaps radical thing we can do is ask questions that make sense and use language that helps us think.

The Deck I’ve Been Waiting For All My Life!

Today, I’m expecting to receive a deck that I'm incredibly excited about: Stav Appel’s Torah in Tarot, a polished reproduction of the Jean Noblet Tarot, a medieval French tarot deck originally published in Paris around 1650.

In his book, Appel convincingly argues that this deck was a deliberate attempt to preserve and disguise Jewish tradition: Hebrew letters, biblical stories, and religious practices woven into the structure of existing Italian playing cards. At the time of its fist publication, the Church was actively trying to erase Jewish heritage among recently converted Christians. Some French crypto-Jews may have pretended to play trifoni as a cover for learning, just as Jews once pretended to gamble with dreidls as a cover for learning Torah.

That may sound far-fetched. One YouTube reviewer did a casual flip-through and dismissed the idea as fantasy. But as someone familiar with tarot imagery, I know the difference between projecting ideas into card images and recognizing what’s already there. And once you see it, it’s hard to unsee!

I used to turn up my nose at Marseille style decks because I found the art crude and unappealing. That was until Appel pointed out that the odd wheels in The Chariot are actually Torah scroll handles and that the tools on The Magician’s table are elements of a medieval mohel's kit. Even the name “tarot,” whose etymology has long puzzled scholars, may be a pun on “Torah.”

Before you roll your eyes at another un-scholarly theory about tarot’s origins, take a moment to look at the cards online. The Fool is clearly shaped like the Hebrew letter tav. The ayin is right there for all to see in La Maison Dieu (The Tower), as are the tablets of the Ten Commandments. The marks on The Magician’s dice point to the eighth day when circumcision is performed. The rays of sunlight in La Maison Dieu point to the date, Tisha b’Av. And most striking of all-- how could I have missed it-- the mikveh right there on The Judgment card! There are too many coincidences to dismiss as mere coincidence.

During the Inquisition, Jews who converted under duress were watched carefully to ensure they were not practicing Judaism. Hebrew texts and rituals were banned under threat of torture and execution. And yet, Jews tried to remember our heritage. 700 years later, some families wonder why, on Friday nights, they turn the picture of Jesus to the wall before lighting two candles. Many strange customs whose roots point back to hidden Jewish identities have been documented.

The idea that crypto-Jews in France may have used tarot to preserve and transmit tradition isn’t wild speculation. It fits into a broader pattern of cultural camouflage, such as secret mezuzot carved into door frames.

Why has no one else noticed the Torah in tarot before Stav Appel? Probably because the history of tarot is surfeit with exotic theories of its origins in ancient Egypt or in Kabbalah, making it sensible to dismiss tarot altogether. Even I used to roll my eyes at the notion that tarot is Kabbalah. I didn't believe that Judaism is in the tarot, but I was trying to put it there. (Keep an eye out: my deck and book will be coming out soon.)

Thanks to Torah in Tarot, I now know how medieval French Jews attempted to preserve our culture in the cards and I have a guidebook to help me recognize the symbols and stories they chose to preserve. It adds depth to my already existing obsession with tarot.

Once the package lands on my doorstep later today, I’ll dive in. For now, I just wanted to share the anticipation.

Revisiting MBTI & the Tarot Court Cards: A Reflection and Revision (2019 & 2025)

Six years ago, I attempted to map the 16 Myers-Briggs Type Indicators (MBTI) to the 16 Tarot court cards using a symbolic wheel and a mixture of structure, intuition, and trial-and-error. At the time, I included David Kiersey’s temperament groupings in my calculations and tried to distribute the four pairs of traits evenly among the Tarot ranks (Page, Knight, Queen, King) and suits (Pentacles, Swords, Cups, Wands).

I’ve returned to this project with a simpler approach. While I still believe that Tarot and MBTI are not systems meant for one-to-one correspondence, I’ve found surprising results in aligning them through trait-to-symbol associations.

This post compares the Kiersey-MBTI version from 2019 with an MBTI-centered version, both of which explore how these two systems may echo each other.

The 2019 Version (Kiersey Modification of MBTI):

I assigned the suits to the MBTI cognitive functions:

Sensing (S) → Pentacles
iNtuiting (N) → Wands
Thinking (T) → Swords
Feeling (F) → Cups

The Attitudes (E/I) and Lifestyles (J/P) could fall into any rank, but I made sure each MBTI temperament group (SJ, NJ, SP, NP) and each Kiersey group (NF and NT) included one card of each rank. (Follow this link to see how that looked.)

The 2025 Version (MBTI-Centered Mapping of the Tarot Court Cards):

I align the four MBTI pairs with all the characteristics of the court cards:

Extraversion (E) → Knight / Introversion (I) → Queen
Judging (J) → King / Perceiving (P) → Page
Sensing (S) → Pentacles / iNtuiting (N) → Wands
Thinking (T) → Swords / Feeling (F) → Cups

Each personality type is assigned one Tarot court card, matching both suit and rank constraints. Here's how they line up:

SJs – Grounded, Loyal, Responsible
ESFJ ... King of Cups - Nurturing, emotionally steady leader
ISFJ ... Queen of Pentacles - Devoted, grounded caretaker <-- me
ESTJ ... King of Pentacles - Practical and authoritative
ISTJ ... Queen of Swords - Cool-headed, dutiful, principled

NJs – Visionary, Intuitive
ENFJ ... King of Wands - Bold, motivational, future-focused
INFJ ... Queen of Cups - Gentle, empathic, inwardly deep
ENTJ ... King of Swords - Commanding strategist with clear logic
INTJ ... Queen of Wands - Confident, inwardly fiery, visionary

SPs – Observant, Action-Oriented
ESFP ... Knight of Cups - Emotionally expressive, spontaneous
ISFP ... Page of Cups - Gentle, artistic, emotionally sensitive
ESTP ... Page of Pentacles - Practical, curious, hands-on learner
ISTP ... Page of Swords - Cool, alert, quick-thinking

NPs – Inventive, Idealistic
ENFP ... Knight of Wands - Energetic, expressive, visionary
INFP ... Page of Wands - Dreamy, imaginative, hopeful
ENTP ... Knight of Swords - Fast, sharp, idea-driven
INTP ... Knight of Pentacles - Steady, cerebral, dedicated

The earlier system was an ambitious attempt to align the tarot court with both MBTI and Kiersey’s modifications. The results were inconsistent. Many court cards felt misaligned with the emotional tone or functional energy of their paired type.

In contrast, the current system is cleaner, more internally consistent, and symbolically richer. It’s based directly on MBTI’s four dichotomies and maps onto the Tarot suits and ranks surprisingly well. Neither version is “correct,” of course. But this newer approach feels more like a conversation between systems, rather than a forced equivalency.

If you’ve worked with Tarot or MBTI, or both, I’d love to hear what resonated for you. What court card do you see in yourself?

I Know It When I See It

Jonathan Tobin's recent article in JNS, Biased media fuels American Jewish opposition to Israel, argues that many American Jews believe Israel is committing genocide because they’ve been shaped by a relentlessly biased media and have little connection to Jewish identity or Israel itself.

This article blames a biased media. That misses something deeper, something I’ve noticed for decades in parts of the American Jewish Left. I’ve never quite been able to define it, but like that famous judge, I know it when I see it.

Every American Jew has met them: the “Berkeley Jews.” The ones manning the PLO booth on University Avenue. It’s a kind of sickness, perhaps a lingering infection from the 1920s and ’30s, when it was fashionable to be espouse radical political ideas. (It still is in some circles.)

I saw it again just months ago at Congregation Beth Israel in Austin. Men in Torah study speaking as if parroting propaganda made them intellectually brilliant and morally superior, when in fact they were repeating a blood libel.

And then there was the woman straight out of Orwell: blindly devoted to the party line. She knows the slogans better than she knows the history of Israel. When she says, “I believe the State of Israel has a right to exist,” she hopes you won’t notice that everything after “but” cancels out the first half of her sentence, and by extension, the right of any Jew, even herself, to breathe free air anywhere.

What drives this? A desire to set themselves apart from those “other Jews,” the supposedly evil or unenlightened ones? Some sociological phenomenon of the diaspora? A psychological one? I don’t know.

Some call them self-hating Jews. I think that gives them too much credit. They’re not self-hating. They’re self-absorbed! They love their own image so much that they’ve lost the ability to see reality, or to care for other human beings, Jewish or otherwise.

The Scapegoat Lives!

When we say “scapegoat” in English, we are referring to someone who is punished for our misdeeds. But that isn’t how the Torah describes the sa'ir l'Azazel.

In Leviticus 16, the High Priest places the sins of the people onto a goat chosen “for Azazel,” ties a crimson thread onto its horn, and sends it alive into the wilderness. It is not sacrificed. It is not punished instead of us. The goat simply carries our sins away from us, back toward Sinai, into the desert, back to the place where we spent 40 years in the presence of God.

Our modern figure of speech misses the point: the biblical goat is not destroyed but released. Our sins are not wiped away; God graces us with a moment in which we are released from our sins.

The Talmud relates that when God forgave the people each Yom Kippur, the crimson thread turned white, fulfilling Isaiah’s promise: “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow” (Isa. 1:18).

Even without the Temple, Yom Kippur still gives us this gift. For part of this day, we are freed of our sins long enough to recognize them. On this day, we feel the pull toward holiness. Just as each passing hour strengthens our resolve to continue the fast, this day loosens the habits that bind us to our sins.

But we are human and we will sin again, perhaps the very moment the fast ends. (If I am any indication, we may even struggle to keep our thoughts pure during the day itself.)

Yom Kippur gives us a moment when God sees us as pure, and we feel the weight of sin lifted from us. It is a moment to taste what it feels like to live without guilt. We can see more clearly what our sins are and resolve to live differently in the year ahead. Unlike the scapegoat, we can't return to the Wilderness of Sinai, but we can strive to live well where we are, and seek, once more, to draw close to God.

How Medieval Rabbits Hopped into My Dining Room

When the first Passover seder falls on a Saturday night, Jewish tradition weaves together the rituals of leaving Shabbat and entering the festival. On that evening, there is a special sequence of blessings, remembered through the acronym, YaKNeHaZ:

• Yayin – blessing over the wine
• Kiddush – sanctifying the day over wine
• Ner – lighting the candle
• Havdalah – blessing marking the end of Shabbat
• Zman – reciting Shehecheyanu, the blessing for special occasions

Together these form the sequence YaKNeHaZ.

For Jews in medieval Ashkenaz, the sound of the acronym recalled the German phrase “jag den Has,” meaning “hunt the hare.” This coincidence sparked whimsical marginal illustrations in medieval haggadot, where hunters and rabbits became playful stand-ins for the liturgical order.

I’ve always been fascinated by this quirky intersection of language, ritual, and art. And when I started looking for artwork for my new home, I knew I didn’t want something that simply said, “Yes, I took Art History 101,” which, in fact, I didn't.

So with the help of AI, I created a series of illuminated-style images inspired by the hare-hunt tradition. My plan is to print, mat, and frame them as a cycle for my dining room wall. Each image reflects both the pun and the unfolding of seder night:

• The Hunt - a medieval pun with hunter, dog, and hares.
• Havdalah Amidst Rabbits - a candle raised, a cup of wine, and rabbit companions.
• Reading the Haggadah - man and rabbits together, remembering the exodus from Egypt.
• The Festive Meal - seder plate, matzah, and wine shared under a  full moon and starry sky.
• Shofar and Celebration - the hunt transformed into sounding the horn in hope of Elijah’s arrival.

For me, this project feels like reclaiming a bit of Jewish visual history, the lighter, more playful side of medieval manuscript art, and bringing it into a contemporary Jewish home.

Soon, when I hang them right to left (like Hebrew text) or perhaps top to bottom, they’ll read as a miniature illuminated Haggadah cycle. My dining room wall will tell not just the story of ritual order, but also the story of how Jews across time have used humor, puns, and imagination to enrich tradition.

Because ritual, like art, has always thrived when it leaves space for playfulness and laughter.

My favorite writing implement? The eraser!

I just deleted 10 pages of my guidebook and replaced it with a clearer introduction. Real progress!

If you're curious, the footnote says: "Throughout this guidebook, I’ve italicized Hebrew titles and terms such as Sefer Yetzirah and sefirot. Quotations from authors such as Aryeh Kaplan retain their original formatting."

Barbie: The Movie

Just watched Barbie, and I loved it!

The anti-woke outrage? Totally overblown. This is a fun, clever movie… about dolls. It takes the unrealistic world of Barbie and spins it into something self-aware, entertaining, and surprisingly moving.

One thing the movie nailed: as kids, we never knew what to do with Ken. He really was just Barbie’s accessory—and the film captured that perfectly. Honestly, I found myself cheering for the Kens. They weren’t portrayed as villains or victims, just as dolls waking up to the fact that they had no defined identity of their own.

Helen Mirren’s narration is perfect. Of course. The human mother and daughter added some warmth and grounding to the story—though Gloria’s big speech went on a bit too long for my taste. It was really touching when Gloria's daughter began singing along to the Indigo Girls with her mom. And I really enjoyed Barbie’s quiet, unexpected conversations with the ghost of Ruth Handler, the woman who created her.

Also amusing: the human father/husband's cameo. A nice parallel to Ken’s role in Barbie’s world, and a funny little nod to how secondary male characters can be in stories addressed to women.

I was never at all attached to my own Barbie doll, but I did love rebuilding her pink townhouse every time we moved. And I had a great time sewing clothes for her by hand—since the glue in the Barbie Sewing Machine never worked.

Also: when is Mattel releasing Barbie’s Enormous Gem Necklace? Asking for a friend.

What about you? What are your Barbie memories? Did you love her, ignore her, cut her hair off? Feel free to share your stories in the comments—I’d love to hear them.

Poll Time! Help Me Choose a Title for My Tarot Guidebook

Vote! Select a letter below to help me choose a title for my LWB, "little white book." 📖

I’m still deep in the writing process, maybe halfway there, but I’d love your help choosing a title. It's for a guidebook to my Eilat Tarot, a Jewish deck that draws on the Sefer Yetzirah, the Hebrew calendar, the Land of Israel, and the symbolism of numbers and letters.

Which title do you like best? Feel free to vote for more than one, or suggest your own twist!

A. The Eilat Tarot: Little White Book
B. Eilat Tarot: A Tarot of Sunlight, Stone, and Water
C. The Eilat Tarot: Numbers, Letters, and the Land

D. The World Was Created With Letters: A Jewish Tarot Companion
E. Path of the Desert Letters: A Mystical Guide of Desert, Voice, and Vision
F. Letters of Light: A Kabbalistic Tarot Guide

G. Voice in the High Places: The World Was Created With Breath and Speech
H. The Tarot of Returning: A Tarot Guide Through Soul, World, and Time

I. The Tarot of Formation
J. Letters of Formation: The Tarot of Creation According to the Sefer Yetzirah
K. Formed in Silence: A Tarot Guide Through Soul, World, and Time

Thanks for helping me shape this journey! Your feedback means a lot. 💙

I’ll post updates as the project continues!

Contemplative Tarot: What to Do with Darkness

Shadow, Self, and Soul:

What are these dark felings? The Tower suggests that something in my foundational beliefs is shifting. Maybe I’m being asked to believe that conflict doesn’t mean everything is ruined, that even real upheaval can lead to growth.

I wonder. What are these dark feelings revealing? Can I still feel my longing for joy, for connection, for peace? That longing is part of me and it points me back to the vision I hold of emotional harmony and belonging (Ten of Cups).

My soul reminds me that emotions aren’t obstacles. They’re signals guiding me toward what matters. So I choose to keep going faithfully (Knight of Cups). I let my heart stay open and I let my soul guide me, even through uncertain waters.

Make Your Blessings Count

Blessed is he who not only counts his blessings, but makes his blessings count.
- a refrigerator magnet
I’ve been feeling grateful lately—but also a little uneasy about whether I’m doing enough with the good I’ve been given. I’m thoroughly enjoying many aspects of life in the U.S., the comfort, the ease, the many luxuries, because each one feels like an enormous blessing. Still, I worry that I’m not showing enough gratitude. I’m not putting enough heart into my job, not taking enough walks to enjoy the weather and scenery, and not making an effort to meet people or make friends.

So I did a reading with The Ocean Tarot, a mermaid-themed deck that reminds me of Eilat, the jumping-off point for my journey back to the US.

The question I asked was, "How can I rise up and align myself with the blessings I am receiving?"

Fives showed up frequently in this reading. That’s the sefirah גְּבוּרָה (Gevurah), Strength. These challenges may be necessary to help me grow. Fives often represent spiritual transition. (Across various traditions, fives are generally understood as points of instability, challenge, or disruption that invite growth.)

CARD 1 – The Blessings Present
What blessings or gifts are currently flowing into my life? (It feels like there are so many blessings, I could have pulled a dozen cards.)

Page of Pearls (Cups)
This is the kid who is appreciative and open-hearted toward whatever or whomever he encounters. In this deck, the Page is admiring a glowing pearl. The blessings of my new life feel precious, hard-won, and still dazzling. Maybe the real blessing is that my heart can feel wonder and grace. There are seahorses all around him, symbols of patience, fatherhood, and gentleness. The seahorses remind me to approach life gently.
In my Eilat Tarot, this card is called: Servant of Grace


CARD 2 – What Holds Me Back
What pattern, attitude, or distraction keeps me from aligning with these blessings?

Four of Pearls (Cups)
This card is such a contrast to the last one. It represents someone who isn’t paying attention to the blessings around him, or the additional divine gift being offered. Although I’m aware of all the blessings I’m receiving, I reflexively retreat from opportunities. The fourth pearl, descending with rays of light from the ocean’s surface, evokes a spiritual prompting to stay awake and grateful.
In my Eilat Tarot, this card is called: Before the Heart Opens

CARD 3 – Embodying Heart and Presence
How can I bring more heart into my work and daily actions?

Five of Pearls (Cups)
This is someone who needs to see not just his losses and what he still has, but needs to "cross the bridge to the castle of dreams," i.e. aspire to the next great goal he can reach. He should not just survive hardship, but dare to hope again. In this deck, there are three broken eggs and two live jellyfish, suggesting sensitivity and vulnerability. I'm being invited to move through emotion into a new purpose. The adult jellyfish in the background suggest emotional maturity, reminding me I can move forward even while remaining sensitive. Bringing heart into daily actions means not fearing emotional messiness, but using it to deepen compassion and connection.
In my Eilat Tarot, this card is called: Crossing the Waters
(I might rename it The Mourner's Path)

CARD 4 – Reconnecting with the World
What will help me engage with nature and people with more joy and aliveness?

Two of Treasure (Pentacles)
Usually this card means being undecided about which path to commit to—but in this deck, the figure resembles The World card. It’s a portrait of joyful receiving rather than striving. It suggests saying “yes” more often, and being a little less guarded.
In my Eilat Tarot, this card is called: The Tension of Two Worlds
(I might rename it The Moment Between Steps)

CARD 5 – The Path of Rising
What does it look like to rise up and live in alignment with the life I’ve been given?

Five of Spears (Swords)
This is a surprising card in this position. It’s about the sore winner, someone who clings to resentment or conflict. But in The Medieval Cat Tarot, it can also indicate the support of true friends, releasing shame, internal healing, or making amends. Maybe here, it points toward independence, not desperately seeking love or fearing scarcity. It may be a call to walk forward unburdened by the past, to release not just people but also narratives tied to old pain. Once again, I’m reminded of what my father tried to teach me for over forty years, a lesson that’s become something of a personal motto, even if it’s not quite 100% true: “No one is your friend, and money’s the only thing that matters.”
In my Eilat Tarot, this card is called: The Severed Bond
(I might rename it Beyond the Battle)


This reading reminds me: it’s not enough to count my blessings. I must carry them forward, with presence and purpose.

Reading at Daybreak: A Grounded Path Forward

I seldom use The Forty Servants deck for readings, but this morning I did, while enjoying the morning sun and pleasant air outside my new home. The reading was surprisingly rich and spoke directly to my current transition of settling into life in a new location.

West / Earth “How can I establish a meaningful livelihood?” 
THE IDEA
I already have the seed of my future; my main idea for employment is viable and must be pursued urgently.
Earth is about tangible action and results. The Idea is a call to implementation. This matches my question about work. This card encourages me to trust my idea and take practical steps to achieve it.
I have to start calling the right businesses and ask my friend for her contacts in that industry.

North / Fire “How can I kindle inspiration and passion?” 
THE MESSENGER
There are messages that I am failing to see or hear. Fire brings enthusiasm and divine spark. This card suggests that sources of inspiration aren’t lacking; I just need to pay attention. Something wants to ignite my passion and connect me to others.(In one of the vivid dreams I've had recently, a very dark-skinned black woman in a yellow sun dress came to our door and said to me saucily, “We need to get you a bed-- and a job!!”) 

East / Air “How can I cultivate communication, relationships, and growth?”
THE LOVERS
Relationships are at the heart of a person's intellectual and emotional life. This card tells me to make meaningful choices. It encourages me to choose connection, not isolation. The Lovers also suggests I maintain integrity in how I speak and whom I partner with.

South / Water “How can I nourish my emotional and spiritual life?”
THE FATHER
Seek someone who can provide good counsel, wisdom, and insight--someone who can prepare me to deal appropriately with hardship. Water purifies and clarifies. The Father brings boundaries, strength, experience, and wise guidance.

Center “What hidden needs or overlooked aspects require attention?”
THE DEPLETED 
I am still carrying weight from the past that drains my energy. This card means rest, release, and renewal. While the other four cards point toward growth and forward motion, this one cautions that I must first make space for that growth. The Idea can’t bloom and The Lovers can’t unite if I am exhausted or mentally scattered.

Summary and Reflection: It will be possible to step into the kind of life I came here to create, if I stay grounded and attend to reality diligently. The Idea and The Lovers speak of a bold beginning and aligned relationships. The Messenger and The Father suggest that help is available if I listen closely and accept it. The Depleted card serves as a gentle warning that I can’t build a new life with old habits. I must rest and release.

What Do We Bless When We Whisper?

A few months ago, it struck me that the Shema is an odd prayer. It doesn't seem to be addressed to God. It’s statement of faith made to other Jews, not to God. In the Torah, the words are spoken by the sons of Jacob to their father, affirming their commitment to his God. But, while it was originally God-focused, now it feels people-focused: we are declaring our unity and expressing a sense that something binds us together.

Until the other night, though, I hadn’t thought much about the line we say quietly just after Shema: “Blessed be the name of His glorious kingdom for all time.” What exactly are we blessing? Are we blessing Israel, the “kingdom of priests” that we’re commanded to become? Are we God’s kingdom? Or are we joining the angels in their eternal praise of God, HaMakom? (And what is כבוד? In Hebrew, the word is often translated as “glorious” but also suggests weight, substance, or significance...)

I was taught that we whisper these words because they are the words angels chant endlessly around the throne of God—and because the words break the flow between words of Torah, Shema (Deut 6:4) and V’ahavta (Deut 6:5-9). But I’ve begun to wonder: what does it mean to bless the name of God’s kingdom? Is this an act of humility, as if to say, we don’t speak with the voices of angels? Or are we quietly blessing... ourselves?

I've written to the Chabad rabbi in San Marcos and, if he doesn't think I've missed the point entirely, I hope to have some insights that I can share.

UPDATE: He thought I'd missed the point entirely.

Egipcios Kier * Card 41 Dissension and the Ace of Cups

My goal is to write about each of the Egipcios Kier cards that Nelise Carbonare Vieira associates with the suit of Cups. I’m beginning with the card she links to the Ten of Cups: card 41, Dissension.

At first glance, the title of this card seems difficult to reconcile with the Ten of Cups. We usually associate that card with harmony, gratitude, and emotional fulfillment. Yet perhaps the title points to something that comes before lasting peace.

The central image shows four figures with raised arms. Rather than fighting, they appear to be praying, singing, or participating in a shared ritual. The scene feels expressive rather than hostile.

Stuart Kaplan explains that the figures represent competing groups within Egyptian society and understands the card as internal conflict, failed negotiations, and division. Nelise Carbonare Vieira, however, sees something quite different. She associates the card with discovering one's gifts and finding the courage to reveal them to the world.

At first those interpretations seem unrelated. But perhaps the deepest dissension is not between people. It is within ourselves.

Most of us have hidden parts of ourselves at one time or another. We silence our voices, question our gifts, or avoid expressing what matters because we fear rejection. Yet that inner conflict cannot last forever. Eventually something within us asks to be heard.

Vieira writes that we must make space in society to reveal our gifts and our values. I find that insight compelling. Authentic community is not built by suppressing our differences but by bringing our true selves into relationship with one another.

Perhaps that is why this card precedes harmony. Emotional fulfillment does not come from avoiding conflict. It comes from allowing truth to emerge with honesty and compassion.

As the Kotzker Rebbe taught, "There is nothing so whole as a broken heart."

Sometimes the first sign of healing is not peace. It is the holy disturbance that makes peace possible.

Tarot Thunderdome: Now Accepting PayPal and Miracles

💃✨ ¡La Batalla de las Brujas Comienza! ✨💃

En una esquina: Señora Fátima, reina de los amarres y limpias,
con más velas que un altar en Semana Santa.
En la otra: Hannah Berg, profetisa bilingüe (Inglés y Pig Latin),
tarotista certificada por el universo, y leyenda local del desierto.

🔮 ¿Quién revelará tu destino con más estilo?
🔮 ¿Quién te dará visión espiritual y cambio para el café?

🔥 Fátima dice: ¡Paga cuando veas resultados!
💸 Hannah dice: שלמו רק כשתתחילו לראות ניסים
(¡Paga solo cuando veas milagros!)

📣 ¡Elige a tu vidente!
📣 ¡Comparte con tus amistades!
📣 ¡Y que empiecen los juegos místicos! 🧿🔔

#BatallaDeTarot #SeñoraFátimaVsHannah #TarotConSabor #LuchaEsotérica #TeamHannah

אין לי שום רצון להתחרות בכישורים של סניורה פאטימה. היא עוד תוריד לי כאפה

A Foundation I Didn’t Know I Was Building

I pulled two cards the other day, asking what I most needed to know. They seemed to contradict one another: Desolation and The Star.

Then I realized they perfectly described the threshold I have been crossing.

Desolation speaks of endings. For me, it marks the recognition that it was finally time to leave Israel and the beginning of trusting that returning may turn out all right.

Now, ten days after returning to the United States, I feel hope. I have come back stronger than I expected, less afraid of people, less afraid of life, and quietly grateful for the confidence that comes from once again living in a culture I understand.

The two cards share several symbols, including the Egyptian hieroglyph for a gate, the Hebrew letter Peh, and Saturn. Yet they tell very different stories. In Desolation, which Vieira associates with the Two of Wands, the gate marks an ending. In The Star, it opens toward possibility. The same symbols accompany two different moments in a single journey.

I once imagined that leaving Israel would make me cling more tightly to Jewish observance. Instead, something quieter happened. During those difficult years, I had absorbed an Israeli way of being Jewish, something lived rather than performed. I hadn't realized I was building a foundation while I was there. Only after leaving did I discover it was strong enough to carry with me.

Perhaps that's what these two cards are trying to tell me. One life had ended, but the life that followed would not begin from nothing. The foundation remained.

This isn't exile.

It's integration.

What the Seven of Swords Really Means

Most people see a sneaky thief. I see a smart tactician.

In Pamela Colman Smith’s image, the Seven of Swords shows a performer dancing across a stage while holding the blades of five swords  with the backdrop of an armed camp, On the stage's backdrop, two more swords stand upright in the ground in front of a row of colorful tents; a group of soldiers is gathered around a smoking campfire. The man's self-satisfied smile is striking. For many readers, this card screams deception: theft, betrayal, lies, cowardice. It’s often seen as the card of someone cheating to get ahead.

But what look again. What more does it mean?

This man could be disarming a dangerous enemy that threatens a community. He’s taking the weapons that might be used against them and leaving quietly before anyone notices. There’s no bloodshed, no confrontation, just good strategy. His mission is risky. He holds the blades with his bare hands and risks hurting himself. He isn't unethical; he hasn't left them defenseless. The two swords he has left behind are a message: We were here. We are a dangerous adversary. Think twice before tangling with us.

Key Words (Light Side):

• Disarming the enemy
• Stealth
• Clever plan
• Reclaiming what was stolen
• Strategy
• Hidden motives

Key Words (Shadow Side):

• Betrayal of self
• Self-deception
• Isolation
• Avoiding confrontation
• Impulsiveness
• Overconfidence

What the card really means:
This is the card of unconventional strategy and victory. Direct conflict isn't always the best way to achieve goals, in peace or in wartime. The Seven of Swords doesn’t ask us to deceive anyone; it challenges us to think clearly and outmaneuver what threatens us.

When this card appears, consider alternate ways to respond to danger. Let the enemy worry what might be next if they mess with you.

I don't believe there is a single "real" meaning for any card, but I enjoy finding new interpretations. Do you have a unique take on any of the cards? Please share your insights below! I love hearing from my readers.

What the Two of Pentacles Really Means

It’s Not About Balance—It’s About Avoidance

Most contemporary writers interpret the Two of Pentacles as a sign of balance, adaptability, grace under pressure, and the ability to juggle life’s many demands. It’s often seen as a card that applauds your flexibility and suggests you can handle whatever life throws your way. This leads some readers to say: Don't worry, you've got this.

But what else could it mean?

In the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, a playful figure dances while juggling two pentacles inside a lemniscate. Two ships sail smoothly and safely over incredibly high waves of a rough sea.

From one perspective, the card is a kind of “don’t worry, you’ve got this” message.

Take a closer look at the figure's garments. He wears a bright red hat that’s not quite a dunce cap, but certainly reminiscent of one. His clothing is oddly theatrical, almost like part of a costume. Some readers have suggested he’s standing on a stage, playing a role.

The lemniscate also appears above the head of The Magician—a figure associated with both making dreams come true and with deception.

The card may suggest a period of multitasking where everything is still under control. However, you should ask if he is really in control, or simply trying to look like he is. This fool's performance may be his way of ignoring a precarious situation, or even trying to deceive others into thinking he’s more balanced than he really is.

Before we go further, here are the keywords I associate with this card:

Keywords (Light Side)

• Adaptability
• Grace under pressure
• Flexibility in fluctuating circumstances
• Multitasking
• Managing demands
• Finding harmony or your divine path
• Trying to make dreams come true

Keywords (Shadow Side)

• Disorganization
• Unclear goals
• Trying to balance too many things
• Delaying decisions
  
• Chaos
• Poor time management
• Splitting your energy
  

These light side keywords reflect the best-case scenario: someone who stays "nimble and quick" under pressure and navigates competing demands with flexibility and poise. Dedication and adaptability can help you achieve your goals, but you must know what your goals are.

In my experience, the Two of Pentacles often appears when balancing act is already faltering. You’re walking a tightrope, and it’s beginning to sway. One misstep, and everything could fall.

This is the card of conflicting goals and lack of commitment to a clear goal. It often shows up when someone is trying to serve two masters or maintain appearances while everything is unraveling beneath the surface.

It says: You’re not really choosing.

Even upright, the card can suggest that things aren't working particularly well. If you don’t make a firm commitment soon, everything could fall apart. Reversed, the danger becomes obvious: chaos, confusion, failure, and burnout.

What the card really means:

The Two of Pentacles often appears not because someone is skillfully balancing, but because they’re avoiding a difficult decision.

This card isn’t just about doing too much; it’s about refusing to let something go. You might be clinging to two different goals or two versions of yourself, while quietly hoping that someone else will come along and reveal your divinely ordained direction. But not all dreams are meant to be pursued at the same time. Some must be sacrificed so that others can flourish. And no one else—not your partner, not your mentor, not your tarot reader—can pinpoint your path for you.

That’s why I read this card as a wake-up call: Stop performing. Start choosing.

I don't believe there is a single "real" meaning for any card, but I enjoy finding new interpretations. Do you have a unique take on any of the cards? Please share your insights below! I love hearing from my readers.

The Road Given: A Reflection on the Knight of Pentacles

One of my favorite blogs is Leaf and Twig. The artist recently posted a photograph of a broad, snow-covered path through sparse woods, accompanied by a caption that struck me deeply:

the road given
is the road
that must be traveled

This short poem suggests that the path we're on, however dull, unpleasant, painful, or unexpected, is the one we must walk. There are a number of ways of looking at it:

Simple fact - we can address what is before us or curl up and do nothing
Initiation - some experiences are unavoidable and essential for growth
Surrender and trust - we didn’t choose the path, accepting it will be healing
Destiny or karma - what has been handed to us isn’t random
Radical acceptance - there is no point in wishing we could be elsewhere

There’s ambiguity in the word “must.” Is it a burden to endure or a sacred duty to embrace? Either way, the message is clear: stop wishing for another life and step fully into this one. The road before you is the one you're responsible for.

I'd like to remember this poem and bring its message into my tarot practice. What cards might reflect this vision of walking the road given?

Cards that reflect avoidance or escapism:

The Moon - illusion, confusion, refusing to see what’s real
the Seven of Cups - fantasy, imagining alternates instead of inhabiting your life
the Queen of Cups - not seeing reality, daydreaming instead of acting

Cards that suggest reluctant acceptance:

The Hanged Man - stuck or suspended, forced to see life from a new angle
the Five of Cups - grief, focusing on loss, failing to value what remains
the Queen of Pentacles - accepting limitations for now, giving more than you receive

Cards that show determination to walk the path:

The Fool - the journey of life, stepping into the unknown, the road opening ahead
The Hermit - walking with wisdom, seeking truth, becoming a guide to others
The Chariot - focused, resolved, determined to continue despite obstacles
the Eight of Cups - courage to step into the unknown
the Ten of Wands - the burden of responsibility, but also commitment to completing the task

And the card that may be most aligned with the poem:

The Knight of Pentacles - steady, grounded, and quietly resolute. Unlike the archetypal hero of The Chariot, he’s an ordinary person: a farmer who earns his living from the earth. Armored not for war but for labor, he surveys his fields and plans his work. He has already begun turning the soil, relying on the weather and the seasons to contribute to the harvest. His path may not be glamorous, but he is faithful. And through that faithfulness he gives shape and meaning to his life. 

 
The cards above are from The Robin Wood Tarot, the Universal Tarot (PCS), and the Oneness Tarot.

(And since I'm posting about my favorite 'blog, here is a link to an episode from my favorite YouTube channel: Jen That Good News Girl.)

What the Nine of Cups Really Means

It’s not a satisfied man with his arms crossed. It’s a woman whose water just broke.

The Nine of Cups is often described as the “Wish Card” and is considered a symbol of comfort, contentment, satisfaction, and wishes granted. The neatly arranged golden cups and relaxed, welcoming figure are usually read as positive signs. But one day, I pulled this card and didn’t see the smiling man at all.

Instead, I saw a woman in labor. The cups had spilled. Her water had broken. Something was about to be born and the moment filled with jubilation.

At the time, I was visiting a new town, trying to decide if I should move there. The Nine of Cups told me: Yes, this is your place. The next stage of your life will begin here.

And it did.

That’s when I realized another meaning of this card: it’s not the wealth and satisfaction at the end of a journey and the achievement of goals. It’s the breath right before birth. The water pouring out before the first cry of your baby. It is a release that signals something real is coming.

Keywords (Light Side)

• Feeling of plenty
• Hospitality
• Wishes granted
• Emotional fulfillment
• Gratitude
• Generosity
• Sensual pleasure
• Water breaking before labor

Keywords (Shadow Side)

• Dissatisfaction
• Indulgence
• Greed
• Hidden emptiness
• Over-sated
• Opulence
• Moral decay
• Emotional imbalance
• Need to give up material things in favor of a spiritual quest

What the Nine of Cups really means:

This card invites you to prepare for something new to be born. You may achieve your wish, but listen to your heart to know what you are hoping to birth.

I don't believe there is a single "real" meaning for any card, but I enjoy finding new interpretations. Do you have a unique take on any of the cards? Please share your insights below! I love hearing from my readers!

A Rhyme for Returning Home

When I’m back in the U.S., I’ll need to keep my goals in mind and my spirits up. I recently read Sunrise on the Reaping the moment it came out, and one character had composed a sing-song rhyme to remind herself how to stay alive. It stuck with me. With a friend’s help, I adapted it into my own mantra.

It’s based on my personal “to-do list” for this next chapter, but shorter and recitable, to help me stay cheerfully on track:

Work and save, spend with care,
Eat good food, breathe fresh air.

Find a job, give it heart,
Learn and grow, make a start.

Meet good folks, take my place,
Balance joy with logic’s grace.

Step outside, explore, be free—
Build my life and just be me.
My "to do" list for life back in the States:

• Make money and save money
• Spend money on health (gym, healthy food, and supplements)
• Get a job, buy a car, rent a home
• Engage in work enthusiastically
• Study something (on my own or in a free class)
• Make friends and find a community
• Do it today so I can do something else tomorrow
• Momentum and responsibility
• Visualize a bright shining future
• Listen to Captain Logic as often as I listen to Captain Fun (carefully chose a few YouTube videos and fill most of my free time with healthy positive things)
• Go outside and visit cool new places

(At first, I struggled to memorize my rhyme, but a friend suggested setting it to music. Turns out, it flows perfectly to the familiar simple tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.)

Announcing My YouTube Channel: Mindful Migration

I recently launched a YouTube channel called Mindful Migration, where I’ll be sharing reflections on my return to the U.S. after eight years overseas. This new creative outlet is a way for me to stay positive and proactive as I begin again—seeking stability, growing with intention, and building a better life.

I hope it also offers something meaningful to others. If you're rebuilding from scratch or searching for inspiration to face life’s changes with courage and clarity, I invite you to join me on this journey.

Visit Mindful Migration on YouTube.

Kids are being robbed: they don't learn cursive handwriting OR touch typing!

I assume I’ll eventually figure out what Apple has done to its cursor pad… right now, it has me cursing quite a bit!

In any case, I am writing to express my disappointment that Apple no longer designs keyboards with adult human beings in mind. Instead, they seem to be catering to the exclusive needs of two-finger typists who thrive on inefficiency and chaos.

For instance, instead of a left shift key where it belongs, there’s a renegade apostrophe key (`) loitering there. If I actually want to capitalize something, I have to look down, relocate my entire hand, and then press shift as if it’s some kind of side quest.

The return key? Oh, don’t worry, that’s been thoughtfully replaced with a reverse slash (\) because obviously, what I really needed in my life was more accidental backslashes. To hit the actual return key, I have to look down (again), make a minor pilgrimage across the keyboard, and rehome my hand.

`i `hope That If `i `keep Practicing, I Will Learn To Find The Shift `key Without Looking.

But\\
the
\return
key
is
too
far
away
to\
reach\
without moving my hand and looking at the keyboard

I am also praying that I will find a way to switch from British spell-check to American soon!

NOTE: For a while, it appeared that Apple had also done away with click-and-drag; but that function can be restored in the System Settings -> Trackpad -> Force Click and Haptic Feedback.

Farewell

We picked Maya up at her home in Bat Yam, where I met her daughter—an angel who smiled radiantly and hugged me. After I shook her tiny soft hand, I wanted to sweep her up and squeeze her tightly, but I settled for taking pictures while she fed a stray cat.

Later, as we sat together at a restaurant on a beautiful day by the sea, Maya hugged me. She didn’t let go for a long time. When we finally pulled apart, she held my hand tightly. I always expect to be shoved away if I reach out, so I didn't know what to do-except not let go.

She gave me a necklace of amber stones and round orange beads, a gift that will always remind me of the balloons held by people lining the streets and freeways in Israel on the day of the Bibas family funeral.

The next morning, Maya and I met again. After coffee, we stood by the Mediterranean, watching the myna birds, the rolling crests of the small waves, the hopeful surfers and fishermen. For once, I could discern and voice my feelings: “I’m happy to be leaving, but I want to cry.” It wasn’t regret. Looking back, maybe it was nostalgia for my time in Israel—or gratitude for her friendship. I had always believed she cared less for me than I do for her. I was wrong.

We hugged a few more times as we said our farewells and walked along the tayelet, the sea breeze tousling our loose hair. By her car, we embraced once more. As we began to move apart, she grasped both my hands and said, “I love you.”

I dared to say it back, but in a whisper. Something so precious is too fragile to say aloud. But because it is so rare, you must acknowledge it and hold it close when it briefly brushes your life.

Reflections on Parashat Terumah: Making Space for God and Hope

Each year, when I read Parashat Terumah, I struggle to visualize the details of the Mishkan, the tabernacle we were instructed to build in the wilderness. This year, the meticulous descriptions of gold clasps, acacia wood, and embroidered curtains left me bored. But as I sat with the text, three other thoughts emerged.

1. Creation and the Tabernacle

Commentators often compare the construction of the Mishkan to the creation of the world. This year, I finally compared the two texts myself. The contrast is striking: God’s creation of the world is described in one parasha. The instructions for building the Mishkan span many chapters. Why does it take so much effort for us to make space for God, when it took much less for God to make space for us?

Perhaps the answer lies in love. God’s creation of the world was effortless; but our building of sacred space requires effort, generosity, and precision. Parashat Terumah tells us that donations for the Mishkan should come from the heart. Maybe that is the dwelling place that God desires, not a physical structure, but the space we conscientiously carve out in ourselves through effort and intention. It may even be that the labor itself makes room in our hearts

2. The Curtain Between the Holy and the Most Holy

The Mishkan is a place of order and separation, much like the laws of kashrut or Shabbat, which divide the sacred from the profane. But the Mishkan doesn’t just divide between holy and secular; it distinguishes between holy and most holy. The innermost chamber, the Holy of Holies, is concealed behind a curtain, as the summit of Har Sinai was hidden by cloud. Holiness is not a simple binary. We might want the world to be black and white, but reality is multi-layered and complex and worthy of contemplation.

3. Hope in the Midst of Darkness

The most powerful idea in this parasha for me this year comes from a legend that the wood used to build the Mishkan came from trees that Jacob had brought to Egypt generations earlier. Over the generations, those trees stood as a silent promise. Whenever the enslaved Israelites looked at them, they felt hope that redemption would come.

Not the most compelling of Jewish legends, but it made me reflect, as I often have the last few weeks, on the hope and resilience shown by the recently released hostages who, despite the horrors of their captivity and the grief that awaited them at home, have still found a way to lift up and display their hope for all of us to see. Each and every one of them has been a radiant exemplar of the best quality of Israelis: resilience.

At the funeral of his wife and two children, for whom he had sacrificed himself, only to learn they had perished while he was in captivity, Yarden Bibas said, “Shiri, guard me so I don’t sink into darkness.” He still sees light! He still has hope. I don't know how that is possible.

An Australian news station desribed the day of the funeral as a dark day for Israel. And yet, for the first time in months, I saw light— not because of my own worldview, but because Yarden Bibas, of all people, could still find words of hope.

The Israelites carried Jacob’s trees with them into the wilderness, using them to build the Mishkan. Perhaps we, too, carry some unseen reserve of strength and resilience that allows us to build light even in the darkest places.