The Star Was Always There
This morning I pulled the Star card.
Not unusual.
The Star has become my favorite card.
Years ago, during an archetypal tarot reading, Marianne Lewis said something that has stayed with me ever since:
"Don't lose sight of the Star."
Then she paused.
"The Star is always there."
At the time, we talked about what the Star meant to me.
Not a prediction.
Not a destiny.
An orientation.
The things that make me feel most alive.
Writing.
Storytelling.
Coming home to myself.
For years, that understanding sat quietly in the background of my life while I did all the things adults do.
Slowly, sometimes more slowly than I wanted, I kept circling back to the same truths.
The same interests.
The same longings.
The same evidence.
For years, I painted and wrote and dreamed about designing a life I love.
I treated it like a destination.
Something waiting for me somewhere over the mountain.
And yet there I was.
Writing.
Reflecting.
A cat on my head.
Another cat at my feet.
A life that feels more like my own than it has in a very long time.
Not perfect.
Not finished.
Not complete.
Just here.
The Star didn't arrive.
The Star was always there.
