Maybe it’s the lingering effect of last week’s solar eclipse in Leo, a powerful astronomical moment in a powerful astrological sign.

Maybe it’s re-reading the Sarah J Maas-verse in preparation for ACOTAR 6 in October, a multiverse of powerful Female Main Character energy that is reminding me of my own power (maybe not as powerful as mind-speaking or light-bearing or fire-wielding but whatever, a girl can dream).

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Maybe it’s visiting the Sun and Moon exhibition at the Saatchi Gallery earlier this week and standing in close proximity to a scaled model of the sun, beaming its solar power into my very bones. (h/t to for the tip!)

Maybe it’s moving into a new stage of grief, where I can feel my power starting to come back online after months of dimming.

It’s this last point that has really been sticking with me. Because I think this is a stage of grief that we don’t always talk about. The stage where we absolutely 100% are still grieving, still in process, still in pain.

And yet.

I can feel that something is starting to shift for me. A deeper wellspring of power is starting to feel available, even if it is fleeting. A moment of pure confidence pitching a new piece of work. A glimpse of creative energy while writing these essays. A beam of light in my chest while dancing my heart out at a gig.

In the tarot, the wands suit is associated with this type of energy or firepower, this inner creative oomph that can power us in a way that caffeine can’t possibly touch. There’s a reason why I chose to have the Queen of Wands inked on my back (and it’s not just because she has a cat, though that’s for sure part of it). The wands remind us to go deep into our power, to tap into that inner fire that we all possess, even on the days when it feels like that fire may have burned out completely.

However, one of the most important lessons that I think the tarot can teach us is about balance and wholeness. Because it can be tempting to feel that wands energy, that firepower, and want to rush headlong towards it. To jump out of bed and run to the laptop or the canvas or the mic and just create. But the tarot reminds us that the wand is just one of the tools at our disposal but without the cup (feelings), the sword (thoughts) and the pentacle (body), we will inevitably feel lopsided. The Magican, the second card in the Major Arcana, a card of power and transformation, shows it to us quite plainly: on the table next to our disco-dancing figure are all four tools of the Minor Arcana, the tools we need to manifest the lives we desire.

Tarot reminds me that power doesn’t just come from force. It comes from a regulated nervous system. It comes from getting quality rest. It comes from allowing yourself to cry, to grieve, to feel. It comes from being with your thoughts. It comes from moving your body. Power is made up of all of these moments within our days, moments that help us build our capacity to be the most incredible beings we can imagine.

Last night, in a somatic session with a practitioner I’m currently working with, I said to them: “I don’t want to be afraid of my power anymore.”

Because the truth is, I think I have been afraid of my power. I think I have been dimming my light. There are many reasons why this might be and not all of them can even be seen by the naked eye. But the shift that is happening is real, is palpable, is alive.

I don’t yet know what this looks like in my daily life, in how I work and what I create. But if this is the lesson that Leo season, and last week’s eclipse wants to bring me, then I’m ready to receive it.

So my question to you this week, as we sit in the liminal space between eclipses is:

As ever, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Power can be built individually, but it’s even more life-changing when it’s built together. Imagine what could be made possible by all of us sharing our power together. That’s a future vision I can get behind.

From my magic wand to yours. 💫

Last week’s Magic Makers:

• 🎶 We may have had to wait six years, but boy has Phoebe Bridgers delivered with her new record, Lost Weekend. This track in particular has been on repeat for me.

• 🎶 More music: screaming my little emo heart out at Jimmy Eat World this past weekend. My 15yo emo self is healed.

• ✨ The aforementioned Saatchi Gallery show, which I went to with my 7yo godson and his brothers. There is magic, and then there is watching their eyes light up at the star installation in the final room. Worth the price of admission just to see that.

  

• 🃏 Sometimes the algorithm works! Substack guided me to the work of and I’m really enjoying the fresh takes on tarot card interpretations and spreads, combined with their graphic interpretation style.

• ✍️ Prepping for my writing retreat at Arvon Foundation next week (which means no Cauldrons for a few weeks!)

What’s brought magic to your week? Shout it out below 👇

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Apologies for the tardiness of this video. As I explain in the first few minutes, I have been in London singing my little emo heart out at Jimmy Eat World last night, and then at the Saatchi Gallery’s Sun and Moon exhibition today with my 7 year-old godson and his brothers (plus we went to Benihana for lunch which is honestly joyous). So I am coming at you late, but with buoyed spirits after a raucous 24 hours.

But here I am with three cards for the week ahead. We are between eclipses (the next one is 27 August, mark your calendars) so my advice, and the advice of many astrologers, is to not make any major moves right now and to let the dust settle. And honestly, I think the cards co-sign this.

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

Nine of Cups

As I say in the video, I have a kinda complicated relationship with this guy! Sometimes I pull the Nine of Cups and I’m like - yes, let’s celebrate what we have created! And sometimes I pull the Nine of Cups and I’m like - this guy looks a little self-satisfied and puffed up! But I think, for this week, I’m going with: what can you celebrate about your work right now? Have you made something you’re proud of? Said no to something that wasn’t a good fit? Had a difficult conversation that went better than you thought? Take a moment to celebrate those wins, as they will serve you in the weeks to come.

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

Five of Swords

As I mention above, advice from many astrologers is to avoid making big decisions until the Autumn Equinox (23 September) as we allow the dust to settle after eclipse season. Given we are right in the pause between the two eclipses, I think this is a good moment to see what mental battles you might be able to set down. Are you ruminating on anything in particular? Can you give yourself five minutes to breathe and regulate your nervous system instead? Maybe take a walk, touch grass, pet your familiar. Anything that makes you feel good and not like these dudes on this battlefield. It’s August - nobody needs that energy.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

Knight of Pentacles

While some of the Knights in the deck (Wands, Swords, I’m looking at you) show rushing headlong into action, the Knight of Pentacles is more reserved. I like to think of this card as a highly strategic one (*hair toss* from the strategist over here). I think of this knight as standing on top of the hill, surveying the battlefield below before making any moves. This chimes with the Five of Swords above; rather than rushing into action, how can you take stock of the current state of affairs? This is a good moment to check in with your resources—yes, financial, but also, the things that help you feel resourced. You will need them as we head into next week’s eclipse.

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know.

Also! No cards next week as I will be on a writing retreat in Devon. I hope you pull cards for yourself, and please do share them with me - I love seeing them.

From my onion volcano to yours. 💫

The energy in the air?

That vibration, just underneath the surface, that makes even the smallest moves feel a little fraught, a little charged, a little manic?

That’s the solar eclipse my friends.

If you’re anything like me and are even remotely in the woo-ternet, you will have seen something about today’s solar eclipse in Leo, the first one with Leo in the South Node since 2008. Much has been made about this eclipse as one of those pivotal astrological moments in the year, where what comes after will not look like what came before.

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And, if you’re anything like me, you might be going, “ANOTHER pivotal astrological moment?????”

I know. Deep breath. I feel you.

This year has already been rife with change. We can feel it in the ether around us, we can sense it in the headlines and in the intimate conversations we have with people in our lives. Endings are all around us. Beginnings are too, because beginnings are what follow endings. I myself have written about this season of transformation and grief that I find myself in.

If I’m honest, I don’t know how many more pivotal astrological moments I can take. But this is the thing with astrology, or the universe, or spirit, or God, or whatever you choose to believe in: it’s bigger than us. It’s bigger than our ability to control. What we learn in these charged-with-change times is that there is actually very little we can control.

And that, I’m starting to realise, is the seat of our liberation.

Control has been a big theme for me these last 12 months. As a Capricorn Sun with Mercury, Descendant and Neptune sitting nearby, control is something I wrestle with daily. It’s in my nature to believe that with a little more discipline, a little more structure, a little more willpower, I can control the outcome of nearly any situation.

In the last 12 months, it has become abundantly clear that that is not the case.

Now, this has always been true. It’s always been true that I cannot actually control the outcome of nearly any situation. But what has changed for me is my noticing around the tendency and desire to control, and the ways in which this is reflected in my astrological chart and in the skies above, my tarot pulls for myself, the journalling and meditative practices that I have cultivated in the last few years.

Many people in my life have asked me about my journey with astrology and tarot and all things “woo.” Their questions come from a place of curiosity, of seeking to understand what it is that has drawn me to these older systems of meaning-making. The questions are kind, empathetic and open-minded for the most part, and I can also sense, for some, an underlying wondering of, “Is this just a phase? Has she maybe lost it just a wee bit?”

I ask myself the same questions all the time. Am I torpedoing my strategy career, one I have cultivated over the last 15 years, by writing and podcasting about these topics? Am I alienating people from a coaching perspective who might otherwise want to work with me, but now feel that I’m not grounded in reality? Am I abandoning the roles that I have carved out for myself over my nearly 40 years on this planet by pursuing this new knowledge?

I think this, for me, is the central question sitting at the heart of this solar eclipse in Leo. Because Leo prompts us to think about the roles that we’ve taken up in life—daughter, sister, wife, friend, strategist, coach, cat mom, hike leader—and asks us to consider if these roles still fit. If how we have always defined ourselves still fits. If we aren’t, in fact, wearing outdated costumes that no longer reflect the identities that we want to hold today.

One of these identities for me has been around control, about my ability to make manifest nearly anything that I dream. I didn’t have language for this innate power when I was younger, didn’t have a relationship to magic or spirituality that could help me make sense of what this is. I couched it in the language of performance and work: drive, ambition, success-oriented.

What I am learning, in this season of life, is that it’s not about control, not really. It is about connection. Connection to self. Connection to others. Connection to this wider web of life that we’re in. When I am feeling connected to myself, through regular practice, through tarot, through astrology, through community, I feel more connected to everything. I cannot control the outcomes. I was never able to. But I can connect to who I am more deeply, and from there, everything flows with a bit more ease.

This is less about who I am per se, and more about how I am. How I orient myself to my ambition, my work, my relationships, my life. And from the how arrives the who. From new behaviours, new selves can arise. By shifting how we orient to ourselves, to each other, to the wider world, we shift who we are when we show up in these spaces.

So my question to you, dear reader, on today’s solar eclipse is:

As ever, I would love to hear from you in the comments section if you feel compelled to share. May the comments be a cauldron of possibility, where you can put your words and allow them to come to life at their pace.

Enjoy the eclipse (safely) tonight, my friends.

From my corner office to yours. 💫

Last week’s Magic Makers:

• 🌈 This past weekend was Margate Pride, and as ever it was the most glorious day imaginable. A day that really reminds me of the power of community and why I wanted to move to this corner of England in the first place. Girl Hike marched alongside other community groups and the outpouring of love was just chef’s kiss.

  

• 📚 I’ve dipped into Rachel Pollack’s Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom throughout my tarot journey, but this past weekend I attempted her Work Cycle spread, which is a real undertaking and requires looking at the cards through a new narrative lens. Pollack’s work is rooted in the ideas of numerology, symbolism and interrelated card meanings, and this spread definitely tested my introspective skills. Highly recommend.

• 🎶 In this season of grief that I find myself in, sometimes I just need to switch the brain off. I was giving myself a hard time about this until someone reframed for me that non-stop processing is not going to be the way through this; instead, it’s about allowing time to process, yes, and also time to pause. When I need to switch off, I have been loving ’s Bandsplain. If you too have been in need of a nearly four-hour podcast about Pavement, look no further.

• 🎟️ This is quite a bizarre one and maybe a real gamble to put this out here in this way, but I have a spare ticket to Jimmy Eat World on Sunday 16 August (yes, this Sunday) at Crystal Palace Bowl. Is this your cup of tea? Do you want to join me? DM me!

• 😹 Gloria in the laundry basket. That’s it.

What’s brought magic to your week? Shout it out. 👇

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Hello work witches,

As my dad would say, “big do-ins this week!” We have the solar eclipse in Leo, the first one since August 2008. This eclipse is asking us reconfigure our relationship to leadership, power and ego, particularly because it sits at the South Node, a point of release. I am by no means an astrology expert, so I would recommend ’s perceptive horoscopes for this week and ’s excellent analysis of what’s shifting. You will be able to see the eclipse on Wednesday evening in the UK - just of course follow the guidance and never look directly at an eclipse (obvious but hey, don’t sue me).

Here in The Coven in the Corner Office, we deal with the realms of witchcraft and work, and how their intersection might inspire a different relationship to both. So as the events of this week’s eclipse move through you, consider how you are showing up as a leader in your work: are there leadership qualities you’d like to embody, but don’t yet feel brave enough to incorporate? Are there some that you’d like to jettison? While most astrologers and witches don’t recommend manifestation during eclipses, this is a good moment to get clear: journal, pull tarot, meditate and sit with your thoughts and your breath. Let what wants to come up from below and be seen in the light.

As ever, we have three cards to help us kick off our work week in tune:

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

Eight of Swords

Ay yay yay. I think the Eight of Swords is here to get us to slow down this week. This is not the week to overload yourself. This is a week to move what’s cancellable and allow yourself extra space (honestly, throughout the whole rest of the month if possible - we have another eclipse happening on 27 August). When the Eight of Swords shows up for me, it’s a moment to ask: where am I stuck? And then remind myself that if I can just get a hand free, I can loosen the blindfold and run to the castle on the hill for help and shelter. You are only ever as stuck as you believe yourself to be.

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

Queen of Wands

Not my gal the Queen of Wands in the deprioritisation slot! 😭 But honestly, I think this is the reminder we all need this week to not overburn our light. This might not be the week to be all shiny shiny out in public. This might be the week to bottle some of that light and turn it inwards towards yourself, to nurture your creativity and energy internally before you blast it out to the world post-eclipse. Trust your inner queen wisdom and you will know exactly what to do and how to use your light in the days ahead.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

Ace of Swords

A poignant card for an eclipse week: what new insight is coming in? What are you seeing in a new way? talks about how eclipses are akin to the lights being flickered on and off in a room in your house, in such a way that they are unignorable. So allow yourself to tune into what’s shifting for you this week. Are you learning something new about your own relationship to leadership? Are you willing to let something end so that something new can come in? Give yourself the grace and space to explore these insights as they come - they might not be as straightforward as you think.

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know.

From my pinhole camera to yours. 💫

The beaming sun, the laughing children, the juicy humanness of it. The sounds of joy, of possibility, of lightness that feel at odds with a body heavy with grief.

But grief is the only word for what I’m feeling. Grief for what has already passed. Grief for what looks different ahead, different from what I had planned for or intended. Grief for my fellow grievers, because of course each of us in our own way has something to grieve at some point in our lifetime.

I’m not yet ready to write about what I am grieving, specifically. And I also think that I don’t need to. Because we all grieve. It’s a universal emotion that represents the loss of something, and we can all guarantee that at some point, we’ll lose something worth grieving.

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Just looking around this little corner of the internet on Substack, grief is rife. Whether a beautiful reflection from my wise and wonderful sister Jen Crystal or a heart-rending live depiction of grief from Cheryl Strayed, grief is in the ether.

Grief even shows up in the biggest summer blockbuster of the year, The Odyssey, as we watch its titular character wrestle with the loss of his men, the consequences of his decisions and his inability to name why he’s not yet ready to go home.

I found myself in a darkened theatre last week with two girlfriends, weeping openly as realisation dawns on Matt Damon’s Odysseus that he has been blissfully eating lotus flower on an island with Charlize Theron’s Calypso for seven years, having lost track of his men, his mission and his marriage as he washes up on her shores. Calypso has been healing Odysseus since he arrived, his body broken and nearly as irreparable as his ship. But even as his body heals, his mind can’t yet face the pain of what he’s experienced, so he willingly eats the lotus flower to keep him in a peaceful stupor and avoid the reckoning that we all know is coming. Calypso is complicit in this numbing because she loves Odysseus and can’t bear to see him in pain. But at some point, even she cannot allow him to ignore the inner wound any longer.

Because that’s the thing with grief. We can try to hold it at bay with any coping mechanism available. Whether that’s numbing with alcohol, exercise or countless episodes of Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, the tenderness of grief can be too much to bear witness to, in ourselves or in another. Societally, we don’t quite know what to do with grief, where to put it when it comes upon us unannounced on a sunny Friday afternoon when we thought our lives were going one way and then they…weren’t. The people who love us want to help us stop the pain; they listen patiently and lovingly, and they provide advice and comfort. But what they want, more than anything, is to give us the lotus flower and allow us a break from our suffering.

They know, and we know, that there is a shelf life to that avoidance. Grief, trauma, anger, any of these big emotional experiences have to come out somewhere. And if we don’t allow them the space to come out, they’ll seep out of us regardless, particularly when we’re least expecting it.

Once Calypso stops Odysseus from eating the lotus flower, his memories slowly begin to resurface and he starts piecing together the life he has forgotten. The men he has lost on his doomed voyage home. The choices he made during the Trojan War that yes, won him that war but also sacrificed countless lives and destroyed an entire civilisation in the process. And finally, the wife and son he left behind in Ithaca, who have waited years for his return and are starting to lose hope.

As memory after memory floods Odysseus, his grief visibly deepens, swelling like the sea surrounding him as he realises what he has lost and how his actions have affected those in his orbit. The men who put their trust in his leadership, who lost their lives in Troy, in the Cyclops’ cave, to Scylla’s maw or Poseidon’s storm. The young fighter Sinon from Ithaca, who died ensuring the decoy horse would be found by the Trojans. The innocent people of Troy, who died for a war about a woman, but really a war about trade routes. As he remembers, he recoils from himself.

His pain crescendos as he recalls hearing the sirens’ song, that “it told you that what you most want is what you can’t have, and what you most can’t have is what you already had, and lost.” If this is not the neatest summation of grief, particularly at midlife, I don’t know what is.

He realises that he does not want to go home because he cannot square who he has become with who he was. A man of honour feels dishonoured. A man of leadership has led his men astray. A man of strategy has no path forward. His grief cannot be contained as he finally faces who he has become, what he has lost and what he must do in order to reconcile this disconnect and finally make his way home.

As I sobbed in the theatre, I realised what I was grieving right alongside Odysseus. We all have a version of ourselves and our lives that we think will be true going forward. We hold a vision for our futures that has congruency with our past, that is built on previous decisions and foundations that we have built along the way.

And then sometimes, like a great wave, life comes in and sweeps those foundations out from under us in a grand demonstration that that life was made up of what we already had, didn’t notice we had it, and lost. And we are left, like Odysseus, floating on a broken bit of ship, unconscious and bleeding, as the waves bear us sideways. When we come to, our surroundings are unrecognisable, as are our own selves. The things we thought we knew, the things we were certain about, are no longer the ballast that holds us up.

This is what is represented in The Tower. A sense of complete destruction, of utter failing, of ruin beyond imagination. This is one of the cards that people are afraid of when they say they are afraid of tarot. They don’t want to have to face the pain of what that destruction would wreak upon their lives. And I don’t blame them.

As we see in Odysseus’ case, it is only by facing the truth of our decisions, the truth of our actions and the truth of our experiences that we are able to move through the grief and bear ourselves home. Because in every form of grief, there is a need to reckon with the self. There will always be questions: “could I have done more?” “what did I do wrong?” “why did this have to happen to me?”

On my noticeboard in my office, I’ve pinned up a copy of Mary Oliver’s “I Worried” poem:

This poem feels like a Tower moment for dear Mary. A moment of reckoning with the worries that we hold in our bodies, each and every day. And the crushing realisation and liberation that comes from realising that “worrying had come to nothing.”

Because the truth is, I had worried. I had worried about so, so many things. And the things that have happened, the things that have created my summer of grief, were not the things I worried about. The worrying had truly come to nothing, and the pain of that realisation, along with the liberation of not needing to worry in quite the same way anymore, reminds me of what comes after The Tower.

The Star. The card of hope, of generosity, of restoration. Of healing. Of finding yourself balanced in the water and on the earth, pouring and refilling your jugs in equal measure. The Star is a card about surrendering to what has taken place in The Tower, yes; but it’s also a card about the stillness that is required in the aftermath, to collect your bearings and find peace.

Last week, I made my own odyssey of sorts. Feeling the need to change up my surroundings, I packed up the car and drove three hours west to Avebury in Wiltshire, the site of the world’s largest Neolithic stone circle. Avebury has been host to thousands of years of celebrations, gatherings and rituals, and holds the kind of collective power than can only be felt by being somewhere very old and being very quiet. I picked Avebury because I felt I needed wisdom from something much, much older than myself, something that had weathered far more storms than I will see in my lifetime. I needed perspective. I needed grounding. I needed space.

As I walked amongst the stones, I noticed the parts of myself that very much wanted to be eating the lotus flower. The parts of myself that wanted to turn away from the fullness of the grief, disappearing into social media apps or A Court of Silver Flames (hey, it’s the summer y’all) or any distraction that I could find. But I kept breathing and I kept turning towards the pain. I focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, stopping to greet different stones and place my hand on their rough certainty, gently probing for guidance without wanting to take too much. I brought offerings, small rocks and feathers I had collected on my travels, which I left at certain stones as a way of saying thank you.

Finally I stopped at one stone that to me, resembled a wizened old man or maybe Finding Nemo (I’ll let you be the judge).

Standing in front of the stone, I asked what message it had for me and pulled a card from the top of my deck. The Queen of Cups. A card about experiencing the fullness of our lives, of sitting with our most intuitive, most emotional selves and allowing the waters of grief and feeling to lap at our feet. A card about the depth of intuitive feminine energy, where rationality can be left at the door. A card where there is no space for lotus flower eating.

When I turned the deck over and looked at the card on the bottom, a practice I employ from time to time to see what might want to emerge from the shadows, there it was: the Ten of Swords, my card for the month of August according to my Wheel of the Year. Similar to The Tower, the Ten of Swords speaks to the destruction of things, particularly thoughts and mental loops, as an ultimate ending. But it’s always worth noticing that there is light dawning on the horizon. While the figure in the foreground is definitely not getting back up, life is carrying on. A new day is dawning.

Taken together, these cards and my stone friend whispered, “Feel it all. Let it go. Surrender.” Like Odysseus, I have to be willing to heed that message, to allow the fullness of my grief to move through me so that I can be borne hence on a magical raft home. Like Odysseus, I will likely find that that home has changed while I’ve been away. That I have changed, of course I have. And that by integrating these changes and these experiences, I will be better able to meet life where it wants to meet me at that point.

Grief and healing are not linear processes. On a FaceTime with my aforementioned wise and wonderful sister a few weeks ago, who teaches a series of classes about Writing to Heal, she drew me a diagram that she uses with her students to illustrate the process of healing.

“Each time you hit one of these dips, you’ll think you’re all the way back at the beginning,” she told me, pointing her pen at the loops at the bottom of the diagram. “But in reality, you haven’t gone all the way back to the beginning. You’re moving ever slowly upwards, each time healing a little bit more as you go.”

Healing is an odyssey. We will each meet our version of the Cyclops, Circe (honestly, goddess willing), Charybdis and many others. We will have to face ourselves and our pain head on in order to find our way home to ourselves. Taking myself to Avebury, standing amongst ancient stones, facing my fears of driving on country lanes and hiking solo might not have felt as scary as trying to sail past a six-limbed monster in a mountainside. But as the Queen of Cups reminds us, by feeling those fears, those feelings as they come upon us, we are better able to surrender to what is to come. To allow the grief to move through us, washing over us firstly in huge waves and later in smaller and smaller ones. To see the dawn lightening on the horizon. To heal.

I’m back from the magical stone circle at Avebury after a truly restorative weekend, solo hiking and communing with their ancient wisdom. If you are in need of some restoration, I cannot recommend this area enough, which feels just brimming with healing power. There is nothing like walking amongst 4,000+ year old rocks and realising that your shit is just…small potatoes to them. They’ve seen it all.

But enough about me and my roamings. Let’s bring you three cards for the week ahead, our little Monday ritual here in The Coven in the Corner Office.

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Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

Nine of Pentacles

Well this is a lovely one to start the week with! I say this is an invitation into the beauty and playfulness that is embodied in this card. This is not the week to be chained to your desk or your office or your workplace. This is the week to go get a popsicle on your lunch break and eat it under a tree. To read a book at the beach. To clock off early. Just don’t tell your boss I told you to do that - I’m not insured for acts of witchcraft 😅

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

Justice

An interesting card for us this week as Venus moves from Virgo into Libra, which of course the Justice card embodies. I think this is an invitation to ask yourself: where is the balance in your work? Where is the equality? Are you taking on more than your fair share? Is someone else in your team? Are you overburning? Let this be an invitation to wonder into what true equality looks like in the world of work.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

6 of Swords

Given we have the first solar eclipse in Leo next week (12th August, to be exact), I think this is a little precursor for us to ask ourselves: what outdated beliefs do I need to let go of, particularly as they pertain to leadership (the Leo domain)? Notice this week how you might be holding on to old ideas about what a leader looks like, or about your own leadership capacity, and ask yourself: are these the ideas I want to take into the next chapter of my working life?

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know.

From my melting popsicle to yours. 💫

The noise startled Gloria and I out of our morning routine of coffee and non-fiction, sending her full-pelt into the garden in an attempt to get to the dazed little bird.

Wood pigeon fledglings are apparently very common in English gardens, as they fledge on the ground and work their way up to flight from base level. After a very helpful phone call to my local vet, I gathered my new little pal up in a towel and placed it atop the shed, after which it hopped off to continue working on its flying.

When I went out to wrap the fledgling in the towel, it was sat on the corner of the barbecue, breathing heavily through both nose and beak and blinking at me with one liquid, black eye. Its breathing pattern reminded me of belly breath from yoga, taking deep, diaphragmatic breaths in an attempt to soothe one’s nervous system. This is a practice I know well, as a tool to help manage anxiety; seeing it reflected in a young bird reminded me that we all have something that scares us, that knocks us off course, that requires us to pause and breathe very deeply. For some, it is crashing into a barbecue after attempting flight; for others, it is losing a job or starting a new project or managing a difficult conversation.

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Wood pigeon fledglings begin to fledge around 33 days old, and wood pigeons themselves live to about 3 years old. This means that at about 3% of its life, a wood pigeon fledgling is being asked to step into the arena (or drop sharply into it, more like) and attempt to do something that it has never done before. This is like asking a toddler to drive a car or open a bank account or manage a team. There will be a time when this is possible, but the journey to get there is going to take a minute.

Learning to fly, like this fledgling, requires a high degree of vulnerability. It requires us to get really honest about what we’re bad at, to reckon with the parts of ourselves that want to just skip to the part where we feel strong and capable and in our power. In a season of change, I can feel that pull to skip the hard, messy parts and just get to the stage where I know what is happening and I can find my feet with ease.

Today we move into Leo season, a chapter of flair and dramatics that feels like it really matches the collective mood of summer in the Northern Hemisphere. There is a desire to throw routine out the window in favour of soaking up every juicy possible second of the summer’s warmth, knowing that it is as fleeting as this little fledgling’s lifespan.

Much of Leo season asks us to perform on a big stage, to expand our horizons and show the world what we’re capable of. There is a big ol’ spotlight in the sky, and it is shining on you. But what if you don’t feel ready for that spotlight in this exact moment? What if, like our fledgling friend, you’re still finding your feet, your wings, your ungainly body? What if you don’t feel ready for expansion?

Leo season is directly connected to The Sun in the traditional 78-card tarot, a card that can’t help but bring a huge smile to my face every time I pull it. But what I’m always drawn to in this card, besides the blast of light it provides, is the young person on the horse. A reminder that having solar power beamed onto you for the next month doesn’t mean you have to be in your power yet. You might be just a beginner at something. You might be just finding your wings.

I think there is a gift tucked inside Leo season, an invitation to go back to the start, to the warmth of childhood summers, of sticky popsicles and languid days and cloud watching. Rather than receive the sun’s beam as a spotlight, I wonder if we might receive it as a gentle heat lamp, designed to nurture us into being if we’re in need of a little extra care. This heat lamp can remind us that we are all beginners at something. We are all just little fledglings, trying to find our wings.

So my question for you today, as we move from watery Cancer to fiery Leo, is this:

Maybe it’s a project. Maybe it’s a practice. Maybe it’s a new way of orienting to yourself or the people around you.

For me, I am just beginning to reclaim my sense of adventure. I’m feeling the parts of myself that have become comfortable, easeful, perhaps a bit too safe, and I’m in the process of planning little adventures for myself that remind me of my independence and my boldness.

I’m curious where we are beginners as the summer moves into its laziest, loosest moments. I’m curious how we might behave as beginners in a sunbeam, rather than as performers in a spotlight.

As always, I’d love to hear your answers in the comments section below. May we share our beginners’ stories and remind each other of our collective fledgling-ness.

From my baby wings to yours. 💫

Last week’s Magic Makers:

• 🎨 Ana Mendieta at the Tate Modern is the medicine we all need. Her nature-based, highly embodied work made me want to move to the woods and never return. Truly awe-inspiring.

  

• 👠 The excellent news that Andrew Tate and his brother were arrested in Miami this past week is only surpassed by this phenomenally funny and completely accurate portrayal of said arrest by Liz Plank. Let the title alone lure you in: “Andrew Tate Arrested in What Can Only Be Described as a Going-Out Top.”

• 🎶 I saw The Flaming Lips at Dreamland Margate on Saturday night and it was optimism, joy and possibility incarnate. From inflatable robots to exploding confetti balloons to a heart-rending cover of Daniel Johnston’s True Love Will Find You in the End, this show gave me exactly what I needed and more (and it was only a 10-minute drive from my house!)

  

• 📚 In my travels around London on Monday, I visited both Atlantis Books and The London Review of Books, two shops I love and are only about a 2-minute walk from one another. At the former, I picked up Weird Walk: Wanderings and Wonderings Through the British Ritual Year; at the latter, Rebecca Tamás’ The Book of Mysteries: Wild Time and the Ritual Year. Spot a pattern?

• 🥪 A Sunday swim and a perfect sandwich with a dear friend. That’s it.

What’s brought magic to your week? Shout it out. 👇

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I am in London at the start of this week, enjoying a change of scenery and the gorgeous hospitality of some dear pals, including a visit to their very beautiful co-working space.

But I couldn’t let the week start without sending some cards your way.

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As I mention in the video, this week’s astrology is WILD; so wild in fact that I don’t trust myself to do it justice and instead am linking to this piece from the Omega Institute that I enjoyed. What you need to know is that four slower-moving planets (Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Jupiter) are making a very specific configuration that resembles a basket, and is named after André Barbault, a French astrologer who predicted little things like the 2020 pandemic and the 2008 financial crisis (among other events). The reverberations from this configuration will be felt personally, but they will really be felt collectively; we may find that we look back on the summer of 2026 as a real turning point, societally (she says, hopefully).

We’re also wrapping up a Mercury retrograde in Cancer on 23 July and honestly this lil Cancer Rising is counting the minutes until that’s over and the fog clears.

So with this wildness in mind, let’s look at three cards for this week that can help us orient towards our work, while we allow the stars to do the work that they’re doing up above.

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

The Hermit

Oh man, this guy has been coming for me the last few weeks and months. While it may feel tempting to see The Hermit as a call to retreat into your house and never leave (I get it!), I think The Hermit is more reflective of the individual developmental journeys that we are all on. How is your work lining up with that personal developmental journey? Is there alignment there? If not, what might you be able to do to gain even 5% more alignment?

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

Knight of Wands

As one of my favourite tarot resources puts it, when Knights show up we need to ask ourselves, “is this Knight’s energy helping or hurting?” And with the Knight of Wands, we’re looking at a high degree of creative firepower, of oomph. So I think this is an invitation to ask yourself: do I need more oomph, or less? Am I in a rut and in need of some creative stimulus? Or am I burning too hot and in need of rest? Only you can answer that, so I invite you to answer honestly.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

Queen of Wands

My girl! My favourite card! My guardian inked on my back! Love her for us. The Queen of Wands is your most intuitive creative spirit. So if she’s here for us this week, I think she wants us to really get in touch with what matters to us, what ignites our spark, what makes us feel truly alive. No matter what this week brings, take time to do something that lights your creative spark. Make something, jump in the sea, climb your local hill, put your hand on your heart. We’re going to be OK.

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know in the comments below.

From my creative firepower to yours. 💫

In January, I set a goal of reaching 500 subscribers on Substack. At the time, I had 287.

I now have 491.

Which means today’s post comes with a request: can you help me reach 500 subs? Can you share this essay, or a podcast episode, or another post with a friend who you think would enjoy it?

It would mean the world to me to help me reach this goal only 50% of the way through the year! Thank you for reading, for sharing, for commenting and for being here in the coven. We’re nothing without each other. 🙏

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Yesterday, I sat on the beach with an old friend, devouring Morelli’s ice creams as they rapidly melted onto our hands and catching up on the latest in our lives.

We are both going through Life Stuff™️ at the moment and found ourselves grappling with some of the biggest, meatiest questions that life has to offer.

Questions like:

“What is the meaning of all of this?”

“What’s most important?”

“What even is purpose, anyway?”

It was that last question that stopped both of us in our tracks. This friend and I have known each other since our early days as strategists at a big London ad agency, so we are no strangers to the importance of career to each of our lives. We have watched each other grow in the ranks of adland, then leave said big agency for work in the social impact sectors. We watched each other grow older, get married, adopt cats, have kids (her) and move to the sea (me). And all the time, there has been this sense of a constant upward trajectory, a sense of forward momentum that felt full of potential.

And then this year hit. The Life Stuff™️ hit. And that upward trajectory, that sense of forward momentum did not feel nearly as guaranteed.

As I listened to my friend share her Life Stuff™️, she mused about what it was all for. What the purpose of all of the things—the jobs, the promotions, the accolades, the LinkedIn of it all—really meant when the chips were down.

What occurred to me, in speaking with her, was the idea that for so long, purpose felt inextricably linked to work. That to find purpose was to find meaning in your work. There are no shortage of books, podcasts, workshops and newsletters that promise to help you find that purpose at work. They promise values alignment, goal orientation and a sense of deeper meaning that could be found at work, if you could just align your purpose to what you were doing.

And look, I think there is a lot of gift in this approach. Finding more meaning in the work we do can help boost engagement, combat burnout and manage churn. Yet Gallup reports that, “Only 18% describe their current job as one that has a purpose they personally believe in.”

For a long time, the guidance has been to find a job that can fulfil you and give you a sense of purpose. I don’t argue with that.

But what I’m starting to sense into is that when the Life Stuff™️ hits, having a sense of a larger purpose—beyond work—might be the thing that can support you. Particularly in a world where redundancy rates are reaching ever higher levels, the idea that purpose is going to come from work only feels harder and harder to grasp for.

I don’t have the answer to what your purpose should be; hell, I barely have the answer to what my purpose is going to be. But as I joked to my friend yesterday, I don’t want my tombstone to read like the intro line to my LinkedIn: “Here lies an award-winning creative strategist and business owner. She wrote a lot of decks.”

If I had my druthers (whatever those are), I’d want my tombstone to read something like this:

“She lived a big, expansive, juicy life.”

“She explored the world in a camper van, and she came back home to nest.”

“She helped as many women and girls as she could.”

“She was an auntie to her friends’ kids and loved them dearly.”

“She pulled a lot of tarot cards.”

“She loved fiercely.”

“She was entirely herself.”

These things are harder to account for in a job description or a LinkedIn intro, but I think they are going to be the things that matter.

So this week’s question is simple, not easy:

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments section as we face the Life Stuff™️ together. How are you navigating purpose in an increasingly uncertain world?

From my melting ice cream cone to yours. 💫

Last week’s Magic Makers:

• 🍒 My godson and his mum visited over the weekend and we went to the Pick Your Own farm near me and it was peak summer, 10/10 no notes.

  

• 🎶 My most musically-inclined pal sent me Like Roses. If you are an elder emo like me and are craving midwest emo sung by a queer woman, here you are folks!!!

• ⏪ I am in a season of revisiting: I’m rewatching The Bear in preparation for Season 5 (if you spoil this for me, I will hex you into oblivion) and re-reading ACOTAR and Crescent City in preparation for the new SJM books this autumn. If you have no idea what any of that meant, congratulations. If you DO know what any of that meant, are you doing a re-read???

• 🃏 I’ve been a longtime fan of ’s work, but I recently picked up her older book, the Tarot Spreads Yearbook. I’m enjoying delving into the spreads and bringing some new shape to my daily practice.

• 🐶 My friend’s 10-week-old cavapoo. You’re welcome.

As a young person, I thought that adulthood would mainly be this:

But really, what I think adulthood is, at least in this moment, is being able to tap into your inner world enough to know when you need to retreat, and when you need to push ahead.

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Yesterday, I needed to retreat.

Today, I’m pushing ahead.

We also have a New Moon in Cancer tonight, so if you are feeling your wateriest, crabbiest feelings, know that I am right there with you. Consider journalling or just sitting quietly with your thoughts. New moons are wonderful moments for intention setting, so if you feel called, give it a shot.

So here we are, three cards for the week to help you out.

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

Page of Cups

Well look at this jaunty fellow! I love this energy for us in a New Moon in Cancer week. Pages are always an invitation into the more playful, curious, innocent aspects of life. How can you bring more curiosity into your work this week? How can your approach be more playful? Do you need new markers or post-its? Do you need to take your notebook to a park or beach? Let the Page of Cups guide you intuitively.

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

The Emperor

Hello rigidity! Hello structure! Where have you been holding too tightly? This card feels like it’s in direct conversation with the Page of Cups. The Emperor is a sign of control, so if you’ve been holding the reins too tightly (or if someone else in your team has!), it’s time to relax those a bit. It is Cancer szn after all. Let’s get a little softer with it.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

Seven of Pentacles

I’ve been pulling this card a lot for myself lately, and I think for me this is about patience and taking stock. Have you taken a moment to appreciate all that you have done this year? What are you proud of, and what are you ready to prune? This could be a good week to do a little reflecting, particularly as the summertime craziness hits and all the routines go out the window. You’ll be glad you did come September.

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know.

From my watery depths to yours. 💫

After a hiatus of weekly Cauldron posts in favour of sharing Season 2 of The Coven in the Corner Office podcast every Wednesday, I’m recommitting to writing these weekly missives to you as a way to check in with myself as much as to check in with you all.

(And if you haven’t caught up on Season 2, what are you waiting for?! Check it out below 👇)

For those who are new here, The Cauldron is a weekly essay from me where I invite you to reflect on a central question that is occupying my mind, often rooted in the current astrology or ~vibes~ of the moment. In my dream world, you would do that reflection in the comments section of the post, as a way to be in touch with each other as our coven grows; this way, we can support each other’s learning journeys along the way. But if you’d rather do that reflection in private, I get it! (Maybe just give this post a lil heart if it resonates with you nonetheless). I’ll also share some of my Magic Makers, little recommendations and snapshots from my life that are making things feel a bit more magical.

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Now onto this week’s essay.

If you’ve been paying attention to the recent astrology, we ended June with a major shift: Jupiter moved from watery Cancer to fiery Leo. This is a big MF deal.

Here’s why:

Jupiter is the planet of luck, growth and abundance. Every 12 months, it moves into a new sign, and a new part of our charts if you are familiar with the 12 houses of astrology. If you aren’t, I highly recommend using ’s free and simple birth chart tool to start to learn about your chart from a Whole Sign perspective. This isn’t an ad, just a wholehearted recommendation from where I began my astro journey.

For the last 12 months, Jupiter was in Cancer, the sign of our most nurturing, care-oriented selves. The sign of slowing down, attending to home and foundations, taking care of our emotional needs.

On 29 June, Jupiter moved into Leo and will remain there for the next twelve months. Leo is the sign of drama, flair, boldness and leonine courage. You may already be able to feel how this is a big shift for you energetically.

I know I can. As a Cancer Rising, Jupiter in Cancer was in my first house of self and body, and boy did I feel the 12 month expansion in how I nurture these aspects of myself. For the first time in my adult life, I started to actually like my self and my body. I know.

I have a deeper sense of what my body needs to run effectively. I know I need regular exercise, but not HIIT and mania, but slower-paced deep strength training, yoga and hiking. I know my body likes a balance of veggies and protein and delish treats, and that those delish treats are most enjoyed when I actually stop to enjoy them, not just cram them in and keep moving. I know I need to listen to my menstrual cycle. I know I need to rest when I feel tired. I know I need to not drink alcohol.

And I also have a deeper sense of what my self needs to feel nourished. I know I need generative, creative work that makes me feel like I’m building towards a better future. I know I need friendships and relationships that see me in all my glorious weirdness. I know I need more books than screens. I know I need to pull tarot every morning and check in with my emotional self. I know I need live music and dancing and laughter.

As we move into Jupiter in Leo, we’re now moving into my second house of assets and resources. My girl keeps telling me that this next 12 months is about me making money so, you know, YES PLEASE. But there’s something deeper underneath the idea of making money. It is about worth and value beyond the monetary. The idea that I value myself and my work at a soul level, not just a financial level. That I put myself and my ideas out into the world (like hello, in these essays) and I believe in their value to others.

When I pulled a Wheel of the Year tarot spread for myself in January, my card for July was the Eight of Pentacles. A card that yes, often signifies hard work and the financial gain of hard work, but this month has me asking myself: what am I devoted to?

What, beyond making money, is my reason for doing the work? My reason for sitting down at the laptop or coming to the page or sending the email? This feels like the lesson that Jupiter in Leo wants to teach me over the next 12 months. That I can expand myself and how I show up in the world, as a vehicle to grow my sense of abundance in my own worth. Yes, financially, but more importantly: spiritually, emotionally, physically.

As I write this, I am sitting outside at a cafe in my gorgeous beach town, the waves gently lapping the shore and my iced matcha sweating on the table next to me. Summer in many ways feels like it’s only just starting, after the madness of Cannes and June’s general busyness. But in reality, summer is already very much in swing. It’s a fleeting time, summer, and I feel called to set an intention to help me enjoy its juiciness to the full.

My summer intention is to boldly pursue joy. To sit with my iced matcha on the beach, writing these words. To forgo telly in favour of reading fiction in my garden as the sun sets around me and Gloria prowls in her most crepuscular moment. To gather with loved ones and laugh loudly.

As I wrote about last week, this might feel challenging for me at times as I find myself in a moment of particular personal upheaval. I share this not to offer teasing tidbits of what’s behind my personal curtain, but to recognise that this may feel challenging for you too, because we all have particular personal upheavals that hit us in different moments of life. If your life is life-ing, I’m right here with you. And I also share this to ask for your grace if there are moments where it is harder for me to come to the page or the screen, so to speak.

So in true Cauldron fashion, I ask:

I’d love to read them in the comments if you feel called to share. The act of stating an intention, either in written or spoken form, can be a powerful spell in its own right.

Thanks for being in The Coven in the Corner Office. I’m really grateful you’re here.

From my sweaty matcha glass to yours. 💫

Last week’s Magic Makers:

• 🎶 I have been added to a Music League by my oldest college pals and let me tell you, this is the only app I need in my life from here on out. The combination of competition (hello Cap stellium) and new music discovery (hello Sag stellium) is really hitting.

• 🌊 My mom and I went to the beach midweek, rented chairs and a windbreak, and spent an afternoon munching veggies and hummus and reading our books. Then she watched my stuff while I swam. 10/10 summering, no notes.

• 👽 This is cheating because it’s from two weeks ago, but my Cannes highlight that I didn’t write about last week was definitely hitting the Canva Pride Party, where I danced my sober little heart out for two straight hours in the sweltering night heat with new friends, screamed along to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and received a visit from all four Teletubbies. For real.

  

• 📚 I finished both Yesteryear and Famesick and I feel like I have completed Millennial girlhood summer. What should I read next???

• 📺 The one exception to the less telly thing: I have been rewatching The Bear in preparation for Season 5 (yes, I know it is out already, don’t rush me). It truly is a perfect TV show for me, and rewatching the early seasons reminds me of the depth of personal journey that each character goes on. I’m so excited to see how they wrap it up.

What’s bringing magic to your week? Let’s hear it 👇

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Not just change. Endings. Griefs. Beginnings.

It feels like the first half of 2026 has contained no shortage of these themes. Whether I look despairingly at the latest in political news or take a view on what’s happening for my circle of friends, change is in the air.

This is incredibly true in my own personal life, something I’m not prepared to write about yet (as the wonderful reminded me recently, “write from the scar, not the wound.”) But the fact remains that I can’t write at all if I can’t at least name what is happening for me, particularly as someone who believes in writing the micro to make sense of the macro.

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Much was made back in February about the harbingers of such change. In the Chinese Zodiac, we moved from the Year of the Wood Snake to the Year of the Fire Horse, ushering in a propulsive move forward that was determined to rewrite our lives after the shedding of 2025. In that same week, we had a Saturn-Neptune conjunction in Aries, a once-in-a-36-year phenomenon under which the Berlin Wall fell the last time it happened.

And even if zodiacs and astrology and anything woo-woo is anathema to you, I think we can all agree that the pace of change has sped up immeasurably in the last few years. We have been navigating a post-Covid landscape while our tech overlords plot to completely disrupt the status quo, introducing technology that can improve itself at such a rapid rate that our human pace of learning could never keep up with.

Change is in the air. Things are ending. New cycles are beginning. There is uncertainty in every corner, in every eye, in every grimace. I can feel it, and I imagine you can too.

And there is nowhere that it felt more present than at the Cannes Lions Festival of Creativity last week, where I attended for my fourth, and likely final, time.

For those who are less advertising/marketing inclined, the Cannes Lions Festival of Creativity is like the Oscars, Super Bowl and New Year’s Eve in Times Square of the industry, where tens of thousands congregate in the scorching French Riviera to win awards for their creative prowess, hobnob with influential celebrities and learn about upcoming industry trends that will shape how advertising will be created and experienced in the years to come.

I’ve written before about my experiences at Cannes, calling it “the high school reunion I actually want to go to” as I lunched and communed with colleagues past and present, relishing in the joy of reconnection after many years apart and soaking up the insane heat and the inspiration in equal measure.

In previous years, I also felt more connected to the industry itself, collaborating with brands and agencies for different types of creative projects and leading my elevator pitch with, “I’m a creative strategist,” a holdover from my agency days in which I identified myself by the role I played within a company structure.

But this year the vibes, as they say, were off.

Now, I will own the fact that my own vibes were off even before I boarded the flight. In the midst of considerable personal turmoil myself, I had no shortage of 9 of Swords-style late nights in the lead-up, wondering how I would show up professionally while navigating things personally.

(Ever a resourceful earth sign, I also bookmarked some quieter beaches nearby, where I could retreat to at any point in the week if it all got to be too much and I needed a break).

But I could feel the vibe shift in the weeks leading up to Cannes by looking at the programming alone. Gone were conversations about inclusion, replaced by panel upon panel about AI and its uses for programmatic ad buying, efficiency and workflow. Women’s leadership conversations were fewer and further between. Longtime attendees weren’t going this year as budget cuts from agency consolidation and redundancies set in. And the most quoted stat on the Croisette—that creative award submissions were down by 25%—meant that even going in, I could tell that the agenda had shifted.

So I landed at Nice Airport on Saturday with a semblance of a plan, but nothing nearly as concrete as in years past. The Girl Hike for women leaders that I was co-hosting with Chief was my anchor point. I had bookmarked a few talks and panels around that. And I would give myself the grace and space to see what came up as the week went on.

What came up was revealed in the cards more than in the vibes themselves.

Longtime readers will know that pulling tarot at conferences and festivals has become kind of my thing. What started as a way to manage some post-Covid social anxiety became an offering and a gift to fellow attendees, a way to build connection with people that bypassed the small talk (my Mercury is in Capricorn in my 7th house, I just simply cannot with the idle chitchat).

So the tarot cards went into the bag each morning, and each day I found myself doing three-card pulls for friends and friends of friends, all largely trying to answer the same questions:

“What’s next?”

“How do I know if I’m on the right path?”

“Should I stay in my job or should I go?”

And again and again, the same two cards kept emerging:

Death, the 14th card in the Major Arcana, is a card about endings. A card that, when it appears, is a reminder of the cycles that are the undercurrent of life, the cycles that give life its shape and meaning. Without death, there cannot be rebirth. We experience this every year, from autumn to spring, as we mourn the loss of greenery and light, and welcome its return by the time the Spring Equinox hits. Death is linked to the sign of Scorpio, which occurs within that autumnal period of dying off (and of course, with Samhain, Halloween, the Day of the Dead, etc.)

Let me be clear: folks who are not experienced with tarot are afraid of the Death card. Likely from film and TV show representations that portray the card as a bad omen, the Death card needs a rebrand like a beleaguered icon who has fallen out of favour with the masses.

But I think the Death card is wonderful. Because endings, as painful as they are, are necessary. Without endings, we have stagnation. Without endings, we have apathy. Without endings, we have burnout.

And then we have Judgement, the 21st card and penultimate in the Major Arcana. A card with many interpretations (as they all do): about rebirth, about a willingness to be seen, to be judged as you are, naked as the day you were born. Judgement is a reckoning, with the self and with the situation. Its relationship to Pluto, the underworld planet responsible for transformation and a phoenix rising from the ashes, points to a profound opportunity for healing after the hero/ine’s journey of the Major Arcana is nearly at its completion.

When Judgement appears in a reading, I often ask the querent about their willingness to be seen. Who do they want to show up as in this next phase of life? What changes have they experienced, and how are those changes being integrated into their sense of self?

As these two cards continued to appear throughout the week, I began noticing the ways that Death and Judgement were interrelated and playing out live in the way that Cannes itself was unfolding.

Because the ending was clear: the creative industries are not what they used to be. Long seen as a career path that enabled you to both fulfil your creative spirit (mostly) and make money (mostly), the rise of AI, in-house creative shifts and agency consolidation has created a mass exodus, whether by choice or by layoff; Basis reports in 2026 that “65.3% of agencies have had clients move work in-house in the past 12 months, and nearly 40% have conducted layoffs over the same period.” I could feel this as I walked the Croisette and saw the beach activations from every tech brand on the planet; the special builds from adtech companies that promise services that I didn’t even know you could need; the velvet ropes springing up at every beach as fewer and fewer of the "plebs” were allowed in, while celebrities were ushered past the ever-growing lines.

And I could feel it in myself, as I lost faith in my elevator pitch and wobbled on my impressive industry credentials. I felt like the last dinosaur at the pond, watching the comet race through the sky and wondering, “did I miss the memo on something here?”

And yet. Judgement.

The opportunity for renewal and rebirth that comes after an ending.

The dinners with my Cannes covens, laughing and crying in equal measure as we shared from the bottoms of our hearts.

The Girl Hike with Chief, where I could feel from my boots to my crown that I was exactly where I belonged.

The Thursday afternoon spent at a beach away from town, reading ACOMAF (iykyk) and eating watermelon instead of pretending to enjoy yet another panel on AI.

The tarot-fuelled conversations to answer those questions about career stability, future paths and opportunities ahead. To help clarify for people that yes, things feel shitty right now! and also, things will shift. Cycles will move. What we grieve now will point the way towards our Fool’s journey ahead.

Somewhere mid-week, I pulled The Tower for myself. And I realised, as I looked at that lightning-filled card (another one that can fill you with dread!) that, to quote Elphaba, “something has changed within me.”

The advertising industry has been moving in one direction since I left agency life over four years ago. And I have been moving in another. For a few years, I thought we were running on two parallel tracks, like skis, able to turn and work together to create a positive outcome.

What I realised this year is that those parallel lines have widened, perhaps to a degree that makes skiing less possible. Or at least, that this particular industry tentpole moment no longer offers what I need to feel inspired and uplifted.

Because the things I want to do with my one wild and precious life are this:

To help women go from wilderness to wildness.

To use nature and hiking as a vehicle to build women’s leadership and self-efficacy with Girl Hike.

To deepen my tarot and coaching practice as a way to bring clarity to myself and others.

To have conversations with people who are blending the mystical with the practical through The Coven in the Corner Office podcast.

To work with brands, organisations and leaders who want to create positive impact for women and girls, through strategy, creative and facilitation that widens the lens and makes them feel something.

To write. And write. And write. Until there is so much writing that perhaps a book emerges.

Cannes has been the backdrop of so much of my career for so many years. But this year, I realised that my own Death and Judgement are present here. That Cannes is not the backdrop for these things that I want to do going forward.

And that is a gift.

I departed Nice Airport on Friday with incredible gratitude in my heart.

Gratitude that I was leaving the Riviera and on my way home to my Gloria-filled sanctuary by the sea.

Gratitude for the conversations and connections with new and old friends alike, conversations that gave me incredible hope inside personal darkness.

Gratitude for the opportunity to go to Cannes in the first place.

And gratitude for the clarity of knowing that it would likely be my last.

This is an incredible time of change and disruption. I’m not the first to say it. I can feel it deeply on a personal level and on a societal level as well.

But we need change in order to have choices.

We need disruption in order to have direction.

We need Death in order to have Judgement.

I honestly don’t know what comes next. The level of upheaval I’m feeling across multiple facets of my life cannot be contained in a single Substack post.

But I know I will keep writing, keep creating, keep reckoning, keep trying to make sense of things.

I will keep changing. I hope you will too.

That level of vulnerability and not-knowingness is one of my favourite parts about podcasting. It reminds me of a coaching conversation. My client may show up with a specific issue that they want to talk about; but sometimes the real thing they want to talk about doesn’t emerge until 48 minutes into the 60 minute call. And that’s when things start to get really buckwild. That’s when the magic happens.

As we come to the seventh and final episode of Season 2 of The Coven in the Corner Office (sob), I have been living in that place of vulnerability for the last few months, as I met with Katherine, Taylor, Cassie, Lucy, Tree and Hae-jin. Each conversation had its own unique flavour, its own flow, its own wisdom to offer us.

But this week’s episode is going to sound a little different. The vulnerability levels are going up to 11.

Because this week, our final episode of Season 2, features the incredible . A writer, educator and podcaster with a PhD in philosophy, Amelia is the founder of Softer Sounds, a feminist podcast studio for entrepreneurs and creatives. She’s the host of Off the Grid, a podcast about leaving social media without losing all your clients. She’s the editor of this podcast.

And in this episode, she not only answers my questions, but turns the mic back around and interviews…me.

This is a strange experience for me, as someone with a Capricorn stellium who is so used to controlling the mic (and frankly, everything else in her life, but that’s a story for another time). But Amelia held me with such tenderness and care, and we had a far-reaching conversation about what it is to be a business owner and a witch, in a time when stepping off the Game of Life can feel more precarious than ever.

For me, Amelia embodies so much of what makes The Coven in the Corner Office the place I want to be. The balance of strategy and mystery, creativity and clarity, woo and work. In this conversation, we get into:

🔮 The Eight of Cups: what it means to leave behind something good to make room for something even more expansive

🔮 The value of making creative work for ourselves first

🔮 The intricate ritual Amelia created to start her business, and what it did for her ability to trust herself

🔮 Our personal journeys of putting the woo in work, and how we are always walking the path

🔮 What two seasons of this podcast have taught me: how the conversations have changed my relationship to technology, to delight and to what leadership can actually look like

If you have spent all season wondering what it’s like to be a business owner and a practicing witch; wondering how you might start to build a life of ritual; or wondering just who my favourite fictional witch is, then this is the episode for you.

Oh, and spoiler alert: we pull my favourite card as the final card of the season. 🫨

Well folks, that is a wrap on Season 2 of The Coven in the Corner Office. To say that making this podcast has been a joy is truly an understatement. If you have listened along since season 1, thank you. If this is the first episode you’ve heard, thank you.

What’s next for The Coven in the Corner Office? I’m so glad you asked. I have many ideas rolling around in my mind and my cauldron, so for now I will say that we have some goodness on the horizon, including:

• Monday tarot pulls to help you start your work week with clarity

• Weekly prompts to help you consider how the skies are impacting your work

• Regular links and recs of witchy/worky goodness

• Monthly syllabi of curated content for each astrological sign (this is new!!)

• Personal essays from me about how I put the woo in work

The Coven in the Corner Office will always have a free home here on Substack, but if this podcast has meant something to you, a paid subscription is the most direct way to keep it going and to keep me writing, pulling cards and dreaming up new ways to bring the woo into your work week. Every paid subscriber makes the next season possible. 💓

Subscribe now

Thanks again for listening to The Coven in the Corner Office. This podcast is nothing without you.

I’ll see you soon, in my corner office or yours. 💫

It’s a guaranteed head nodder, because everyone has, at one point, felt like this. That feeling of your brain, your body, your being on fire because you’re overwhelmed, stressed, burnt out beyond recognition.

I felt like this a few times in my career, most notably at agency roles where I was juggling department head responsibilities, new business lead generation, pastoral care of junior staff and project leadership. My brain and body couldn’t take the constant pulling at my attention, the context switching and emotional holding that I was doing for others, the barrage of notifications day and night.

I know I’m not alone, that this is not a phenomenon unique to me. How many of us have sat with our heads in our hands at our desks, especially in corporate office settings where our basic needs—fresh air, movement, nervous system regulation—are not only not being taken care of, but are often being further damaged by the setting itself?

This exact feeling is what drew me to a workshop back in February at Google Xi Days, a workplace experience conference that puts humanity at the centre of corporate life. The workshop title—“How Wonder Restores Your Attention and Elevates Your Work,”—immediately grabbed me: I was jet lagged to f*ck, whacked out from the previous day’s lunar eclipse in Aquarius and in desperate need of connection to my wonder.

Over the course of 15 minutes, the company behind the workshop, Applied Wonder, led us in a guided exercise where we watched a gently moving film of waves lapping on a gorgeous Big Sur beach, while music played in the background. We were each given a scent roller to enhance the experience, and asked to just sit and be with our senses, eyes open but soft.

I sat. Softly.

And after 15 minutes, I genuinely felt like a new woman. My jet lag dissipated. My conference jitters subsided. The eclipse weirdness felt like a thing of the past. My Oura ring dropped to “restored,” the only moment of restoration I experienced all day.

I needed to know more about the magic behind what I had just experienced; so I accosted introduced myself to Hae-jin Marshall, co-CEO of Applied Wonder, in the elevator on day 2 of the conference. As Hae-jin and I spoke, both in the elevator and in a follow-up Zoom, it was clear we had much to discuss beyond Applied Wonder’s revolutionary work. Because Hae-jin is not only a co-CEO; she is a Mystic and Artist, and her interdisciplinary creative practice blends tradition and science to create physical multisensory experiences and environments for mind, body, heart, and soul coherence.

She clearly belongs in The Coven in the Corner Office, and I’m thrilled to share our conversation with you today. We talk about:

🔮 What happens when you build multi-sensory immersive spaces that are specifically designed to bring people back to themselves

🔮 The science of restoration at work: how a 15-minute sensory experience can drop your heart rate and sustain that effect after you return to your desk

🔮 Why most of us are walking around as heads without bodies, and how to change that (see above fire/head photo!)

🔮 Lessons from the Zen Tarot, or what it means to act from consciousness rather than compliance

🔮 The simplest tools for a regulated nervous system (and they’re free!)

Talking with Hae-jin was like a mini-restoration experience in its own right. If you are struggling with burnout, losing hope in your workplace or just in need of a mental break, join Hae-jin and I in The Coven in the Corner Office this week.

We only have ONE MORE episode of Season 2 to release next week 😭

But it’s one you’re not going to want to miss because it features the one and only of Off the Grid and Softer Sounds Studio (aka our magical editor who makes the pod sound so profesh).

And this episode is a little different because not only did I interview Amelia but she turned the tables and interviewed me. 😳

So if you’ve been wondering about my own relationship to witchcraft and spirituality, tune in next Wednesday for our final episode of Season 2 of The Coven in the Corner Office.

Make sure you’re subscribed so the episode lands in your inbox first thing 👇

Subscribe now

And catch up on all of Season 2’s magical insights here.

I’ll see you soon, in my corner office or yours. 💫

If you have been paying attention to this month’s astrology, then you know that tomorrow, 9 June, Venus and Jupiter will meet up in Cancer and provide all of the blessings and abundance that we so desperately need in this moment. (As a Cancer Rising, I have been waiting for this day all. freaking. year. and even managed to plan a Girl Hike summer social around it!!!)

Tomorrow is a wonderful day to nurture yourself and nurture each other. Get outside. Call your people. Wear something beautiful, just for you. Create something. Just be in your wonderous body on this wonderous planet.

The cards this week did not disappoint; if anything, they reinforce the idea that this is not the week to be chained to your desk/routines/sense of discipline. This is a week to journey, to learn, to explore.

And if you need a guide, let me just say that last week’s guest on The Coven in the Corner Office podcast is the perfect accompaniment. High Priestess Witch, author and dreamworker Tree Carr stopped by the pod to share her perspective on tech and magic and she will rewire your brain and your relationship to your phone, no joke.

OK, onto this week’s cards.

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

The Hermit

I love The Hermit. I feel I am in a real Hermit season of life right now, where I am turning towards practices, enquiries and teachers who can help me learn and grow. Whether that is engaging in some form of nervous system release through acupuncture or meditation, or going for a walk in your neighbourhood park, The Hermit is here to invite us to walk the path of our own development. What are you learning about yourself in this moment? What is your work teaching you that feels new and important to learn? The Hermit asks us to go inward not as a way to shut out the world, but to open ourselves more fully into it.

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

The Devil

Whoop, there it is. For me, The Devil shows up when I need to let go of outdated patterns or behaviours that are keeping me playing small. This could be a week for you to throw your routine to the wind in favour of stepping outside and enjoying a midday lunch with a dear pal, or going to that class that you always say you will go to, but never actually do. The Devil keeps us chained; in a week where Venus and Jupiter meet up in glowy gorgey Cancer, how can you break the chains in favour of a fuller, sweeter life?

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

3 of Wands

There’s something about the 3 of Wands that really exemplifies threshold energy for me: the sense of looking out onto the horizon and wondering what is next. This feels in direct conversation with The Hermit, as we engage in self-development practices that might call us towards a new direction in life. When you step back from the day-to-day and release yourself from the bondage of The Devil, what possibilities emerge for you? Please do tell me down below!

How are these cards landing with you this week? Let me know in the comments section down below, or share how you’re planning to spend your beautiful 9 June moment.

From my abundance to yours. 💫

And I’m lucky enough to share a seaside community with the one and only Tree Carr: High Priestess witch, Transpersonal Psychologist, death doula, author and speaker. I first met Tree a few years’ ago at a book launch event for A Spell a Day, her highly accessible book about how to practice magic in your everyday life. I had only just started walking the path of the baby witch (witch curious?) and was listening raptly in the audience as Tree outlined her personal philosophy on witchcraft:

“I have one foot planted in the physical realm and one foot planted in the spiritual realm. I’m not woo, I’m whoa.”

For this baby witch, hearing someone with Tree’s credentials speak so candidly about the balance between the material and the ethereal shook something loose in me. Suddenly, the idea of learning to read tarot or planning my week around the movements of the stars and planets didn’t seem so crazy. It seemed like the most sensible idea in the world.

Since meeting Tree, I’ve embarked on my own journey of understanding witchcraft and my relationship to it through my work and daily rhythms. It’s helped me come into deeper contact with my body, my psyche, my community and the seasons around me. I’ve rewritten my daily routines, incorporating journaling, tarot pulls and meditation. I started this podcast and newsletter, began meeting other like-minded work witches and performing my own spells around the house. I’ve even started teaching tarot to some of the tweens in my life who are showing an inclination towards the cards.

And Tree has been busy in the intervening years: hosting retreats and rituals across the globe; teaching tarot, dream work and astrology via her masterclasses; speaking at conferences; and releasing her latest book, Technomancy: Tech Magic and Spells for the 21st-Century Witch. It is this book that brought us together for our conversation this week, a conversation rooted in how our phones and technology might be the most magical tools we have available to us, if we can shift our attitudes and behaviours towards them.

Ah, my phone. What a complex relationship. On the one hand, my phone is the greatest source of anguish, leaving me feeling breathless with anxiety as I scroll through the multitude of apps, messages and notifications, never sating the device’s desire to be on, on, on. On the other hand, my phone is my lifeline: a channel to a family and friendship group across an ocean; a portal to other stories and worlds that I haven’t and can’t ever live; a neverending library of information where I can research what I desire at a moment’s notice.

For Tree, the phone is a wand, a scrying mirror, a magical tool that we can wield, just like any other tool, to connect with our intentions and manifest the magic we make. In her own words:

In my conversation with Tree, we speak in depth about how technology and devices can create portals for magic and manifestation. We cover:

🔮 What it means to practice magic with and through technology, and why the genie is already out of the bottle

🔮 The smartphone as wand and scrying mirror, and how to start using it with intention

🔮 Why meditation is the non-negotiable foundation of any magical practice, before you buy a single crystal

🔮 The work of witchcraft, and what that requires in terms of trust, self-knowledge, and following what’s true for you

🔮 Why consciousness is the real battleground at work right now, and how grounding practices protect your attention in a world that’s designed to steal it

If you are curious to learn more about the practice of witchcraft or in desperate need of an optimistic reboot in your relationship to technology, join Tree and me in the Coven in the Corner Office this week.

We have new episodes of The Coven in the Corner Office dropping every Wednesday through mid-June. Not subscribed yet? Wave your magic wand below and you’ll be the first to hear the podcast as soon as it lands.

I’ll see you soon, in my corner office or yours. 💫

I’ve had a few weeks’ off from creating these lil videos as I just needed some…breathing room. But I woke up this morning feeling ready to rock, so here we are with a little three-card pull and accompanying video to kick off your week magically.

But before we get into the reading, here’s your friendly reminder that we have four episodes of The Coven in the Corner Office Season 2 podcast out, and another three to come. 🥳

If you haven’t yet listened, tune into last week’s guest Lucy Maeve, who shared her story of leaving her banking job to strike out on her own path of delight and fulfilment.

And don’t miss this Wednesday’s guest, who is a real honest-to-blog High Priestess witch and who made me think about my phone in a completely different way through her views on tech and magic. 👀

OK, on to the reading.

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

Two of Wands

A beautiful card after last night’s Sagittarius Blue Moon, the Two of Wands is asking us to look ahead to the new horizons and adventures that are calling us (boy, did the cards know I was coming today!) This doesn’t mean you should ignore the projects you already have, but if there is a creative idea or a project that is tickling your brain, consider this a welcome invitation to allow yourself to explore it this week.

(Or to just book a holiday. That too).

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

Five of Swords

Whoop, there it is. Are you fighting with yourself? Are you ruminating? Are you feeling like (cue Pat Benatar) your mind is a battlefield? The Five of Swords is here to remind us to set down the thoughts and change up the environment. Maybe you need to take a walk. Call a friend. Take a breath. Pet your cat. Whatever it is that can get you out of rumination, the Five of Swords wants you to do it.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

Knight of Swords

Double swords, hello Gemini szn! Knights are always a welcome reminder of balance. Are you overthinking something? Not thinking something through enough? Ask yourself what you’re in need of and then give it to yourself, especially when it comes to the mental and intellectual realm. Maybe you need to step back and see the bigger picture; or maybe you need to just go for it. Whichever it is, please do report back because I’m nosy and I want to know what happens!

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know.

From my new horizon to yours. 💫

(For some of you - myself included - you might not need to imagine!)

Now imagine that job is at one of the most prestigious banks on the planet. The kind of job with a corporate expense account and business class airfare and jetsetting all over the globe. Where you wine and dine clients and build your own sense of wealth and security while helping those clients do the same.

Imagine what it would take to just…walk out.

To turn your back on all of the trappings of corporate life that you have been told to aim for, only to realise that at the end of the day, none of those trappings will ever love you back.

This is the first part of Lucy Maeve’s story, who joins us in The Coven in the Corner Office this week to share not only where she started, but where her path has taken her along the way.

Lucy Maeve is a somatic therapeutic coach, podcast host and breathwork facilitator. A former JPMorgan banker, she spent ten years excelling professionally on the trading floor before finding her way back to herself through body-based work. She trained under Dr Gabor Maté and Layla Martin and works at the intersection of nervous system regulation, parts work, Eastern spirituality, and the full aliveness (and wildness) of being human.

In our conversation, Lucy and I cover:

🔮 The difference between seriousness and delight, and how to start moving from one to the other

🔮 How to rewire your nervous system after years of corporate life

🔮 The path to change and the bravery of each single, quiet step

🔮 The simplest possible morning practice for leaders who want to show up with more presence

🔮 What it looks like to follow the thread, and why desires might be a better guide than goals

If you have made a career change, are considering one or just want to hear another woman’s story of transformation, tune into my conversation with Lucy and hear how she walked the path towards her life full of delight.

And as a special bonus: Lucy interviewed me earlier this year on her Liberated Life podcast, which serves as a lovely companion piece to this episode. You can find it here.👇

We have new episodes of The Coven in the Corner Office dropping every Wednesday through mid-June. Not subscribed yet? Wave your magic wand below and you’ll be the first to hear the podcast as soon as it lands.

I’ll see you soon, in my corner office or yours. 💫

In some cases, it helps me manage my anxiety to have something to do (season 1 guest and gal pal lovingly calls the cards my “stim toy”). In other cases, it becomes an opportunity to spark connection and conversation with a new person.

Because let me tell you, nothing is more polarising in a corporate context than whipping out your tarot cards. You find out pretty quickly who wants to hang and who…does not.

Luckily for me, when at Google’s Xi Days conference in Atlanta in February, Cassie Lee was in the former camp. The first coffee of the day had barely hit my system before I heard Cassie’s Toronto lilt from the nearby couch exclaiming, “Wait, are those tarot cards?”

With those five words, Cassie and I were off to the races, swapping stories of how we learned to read tarot, our favourite cards and decks and the role that tarot plays in helping us make sense of the mysteries of life. I knew I had met my first new conference pal and I gave Cassie a reading for the day within minutes.

What I didn’t yet know is that Cassie was going to speak from the stage later that day about her research. You see, Cassie is an experience designer and researcher at MIT, making her probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met but in the most unassuming and friendly way.

Cassie’s talk was about new social forms and her cohort’s research on how new ways of gathering can create opportunities for real human connection, particularly when technology is involved. I was already interested in the topic when I heard Cassie utter the phrase, “AI séance.”

Then I nearly fell out of my (very comfortable and well-designed) seat.

Between Cassie’s personal tarot practice, her experiences as a game designer (wait until you hear about Analogia), her AI séances and moon circles, I knew she needed to join us in The Coven in the Corner Office this season.

In this episode, Cassie and I nerd out on:

🔮 How tarot can build a bridge between our structured and organic selves

🔮 Whether AI can be helpful in building spiritual practice, and the difference between open and closed prompts

🔮 The social container as the real source of magic: moon circles, mystic hackers and AI séances in a chapel

🔮 How to bring your whole self into institutions (academia, tech, corporate life) that weren’t built for spirituality

🔮 What to do when the 5s come for you (you’ll have to listen to find out what that means)

Meeting Cassie at a conference with tarot cards in my hand is the perfect encapsulation of what The Coven in the Corner Office is all about: showing up as ourselves, in spaces that may not expect that self but we find our people anyway. If you’re called towards a deeper dive into tarot, are questioning the use of AI in spiritual practice or you want to know more about uniting the head and the heart, join Cassie and me in the corner office for episode 3.

We have new episodes of The Coven in the Corner Office dropping every Wednesday through mid-June. Not subscribed yet? Wave your magic wand below and you’ll be the first to hear the podcast as soon as it lands.

I’ll see you soon, in my corner office or yours. 💫

There are now TWO new episodes of The Coven in the Corner Office podcast. If you haven’t listened yet, what in the goddess’ name are you waiting for?

🔮 Listen to ’s episode here:

🔮 Listen to ’s episode here:

Episode 3 drops on Wednesday and spoiler alert - it features an MIT researcher talking tarot, human/AI connection and life as a tech mystic hacker. Don’t miss it.

Subscribe now

Now, the eagle-eyed among you will notice that this week’s Magic Meeting doesn’t contain a video. I’m feeling a little tender-hearted and camera-shy at the moment, but I thought I would still pull a few cards for us off-screen, in the hopes of giving us all a lil boost. If you’re coming to this weekly magic meeting in need of support, whether that is in work or life, consider this my gift to the collective. I need it, you need it, we all need it.

Without further adieu, three cards for the week:

Card 1: What am I prioritising in my work this week?

Ten of Pentacles

Let the abundance in! The Ten of Pentacles is a wonderful reminder to step outside and find the abundance of life all around us. Whether that is meeting up with a friend, walking in nature or joining a community call, this card asks us to prioritise the activities that help us increase our physical wellbeing, our resources (yes, financial, but also spiritual, emotional, mental, etc.), and the people in our lives that help those resources come alive. Call your people. Get fresh insight to a project. Take a walk into town and see what you notice. Then bring it back to the desk and see what comes out.

Card 2: What am I deprioritising in my work this week?

Eight of Cups

Is there a part of your work that is dragging you down? That every time you turn to it, whether that’s writing a social post or attending a meaningless weekly status, you just feel…blue. The Eight of Cups asks us to tune into those feelings and jettison (to the best of our ability) the things that are not filling our cups. Is there a small adjustment you can make to your diary, your routine or your projects this week? Practice listening to your emotions around your work and see what comes up.

Card 3: What’s most important this week?

Four of Swords

Oh man, how I needed this card myself. The Four of Swords is asking you to R-E-S-T. Perhaps you’ve been overthinking and ruminating? Or trying to force your mind to focus when it wants to be anywhere but here? Give yourself a break. Take that walk, take that nap, take that cookie - whatever you need to recharge your weary mind. Your work and your mental health will thank you for it.

How are these cards landing with you this week? What cards are you pulling for yourself? I’d love to know.

From my nap spot to yours. 💫