Sometimes it feels like we’re writing in the dark.
The moon is always changing; the Muse is always changing. That can be annoying or affirming, depending on the day.
I was recently gifted a gorgeous Tarot deck, the lovely and ancient Tarot de Marseilles, which fellow writer Carolyn Cohagan picked up on her adventures in Southern France (journey with Carolyn via her Substack and drool over photographs of pastries).
I adore this deck because it’s bright and cheeky, and the archetypes remind me of the Canterbury Tales, and I love that the Fool is getting nipped in the bum by his canine companion.
I sat down with the deck last week to ask about writing goals—in particular, the way my goals, as I recently declared to my beloved writers’ group, are shifting. I don’t know about y’all, but the so-called New Year has had its fair share of challenges, and writing has often been side-lined in favor of things like tending to illness and fixing a broken fridge. Life has a way of making you feel like you’re behind on things even when you’re actually handling lots of really important things, like fixing the fridge, going to class, taking care of loved ones and (hopefully!) yourself. Right?
in response to this question about goals, I pulled La Lune—this gorgeous, primary-colored marjor arcana card sporting a smiling blue moon and a crayfish.
Mmhmm. OKAY. Right! Shifting means not everything is quite clear. Shifting means you’re still figuring it out. Shifting means that things are changing but you can’t quite see what the result of that will be.
Sometimes it can be hard to get a response—from a Tarot deck or otherwise—that sounds like a Magic 8 Ball misdirect: Reply hazy, try again.
Or….could it be a call back to center? A bell ringing you back home? A reply that says: Close your eyes for a moment. Now, what do you really want to do? Right here, right now.
The guided writing below offers you or your character a chance to reflect on those questions in liminal—even lightless—times.
Guided Writing: Liminality as Foundation
Quick recommendation: Arrive. This time is for you. Take as long as you like to stare into space before you write. Take 1-2-3 deep breaths.
Observe La Lune in the image posted here. What do you notice? How are the figures/creatures here calling out to you? Take a few minutes to enjoy this image and jot down all your observations.
Write from the perspective of a character or yourself in response to one or all of the questions below. You might pick a character who is also in a time of in-betweeness or liminality, crossing a threshold, perhaps, and not really feeling like they have a foot on either side.
What is the threshold you are crossing in this phase of your creative life? What does it look like? What can you see through that opening, and what is veiled? How does it feel to sit still, unmoving, while you wait for more light to show the way? Write for 8-9 minutes, describing what it feels like to be in between, shifting even as you wait.
Who are your companions or guides? Who can you trust to help you see the way? These companions can be people or creatures or even objects. Write for 10-11 minutes.
Allow one of the companions to say something—a few words that you can take with you as your world and your desires continue to shift and reshape. What do they say that you can hold onto? Perhaps a few words that form some kind of mantra? Or a few phrases of gentle advice? Take 2-3 minutes to jot these down.
Glance back at your own work and circle/highlight/underline your favorite phrase from #6—what was said that feels like the truest call?
Take a breath. Take another one for good measure.
Bonus: Declare one thing you’d really like to do before the next New Moon—something that is just for you. At this posting, the next New Moon will be February 9—I’m offering a Tarot sale in celebration.
Did you miss the Winter Solstice trio of guide writing prompts? It’s never too late! Check out these December activities.