Destiny Doesn't Need a Pack Mule
A Tarot Read
Jan 22, 2026: Tarot Reading
I am one week out from travel. All major decisions have been made: tickets are purchased, accommodations are set for the next couple of months, and all major expenses—aside from incidentals—are paid for.
First question:
What is the energetic landscape surrounding this travel? Is there any lingering negative or unresolved energy connected to the decision, or does the path ahead appear clear?
For this question, I drew three cards from the Steampunk Tarot deck, with no positional order:
The Sun, The Lovers, and the Six of Pentacles.
Second question:
What is the outlook for my writing career at this time? Specifically, is there movement toward a professional opportunity or deal currently forming?
For this question, I drew four cards from the Deviant Moon Tarot deck, in sequential order:
The Magician, The Chariot, The Fool, and the Ten of Wands.
How should these two pulls be understood together?
My Reading:
Travel energy is overwhelmingly positive. The Sun indicates that any prior issues have evaporated and the sky is blue and bright. The Lovers is interesting, in part because I had a dream about a chance encounter, so hmmmm. Typically I read the Lovers card not romantically but about making beneficial connections, usually other people. But I take dreams very seriously as harbingers as well. So who knows. Maybe the old guy finds a travel buddy. Then, the Six of Pentacles. Two words stick out for me relative to the Six of pentacles: reciprocity and priorities.Given the positivity of the first two cards, I read this Six as telling me that help will be there when I need it, and it may come from powerful sources.
As to my writing career. Megawatts of energy. Noteworthy traps. Huge energy because the first two cards of the deck are involved. The Magician opens the door, suggesting I already have the alchemy in place. The Chariot indicates movement (travel) enhances the process or, indeed, makes certain things possible. The Fool says I’m at the beginning of journey - a writing journey, that is - that involves stepping off a cliff. Then the thud at the bottom. the 10 of Wands, the Burden card. Carrying too much.
So I ask a follow question. What do I need to lay aside? The answer: two 7s. The seven of Pentacles and the seven of Wands. The things to lay aside are evaluating, planning (pentacles) and defiance, rebellion (wands). Old habits. FFS, these are four things that almost literally define me. Basically, the pull says I can be very successful if I’m willing to transcend my current self. But, if I charge ahead unchanged, the burden of success will be great, probably too great.
I put the question to Grok and Chat. Here is what they said.
Travel:
This spread is obnoxiously clean. Almost suspiciously so.
The Sun says the doubt phase is over. Whatever shadows were lurking have been burned off by commitment. Tickets bought = spell cast. This is clarity, vitality, and the kind of confidence that doesn’t need pep talks. You’re not sneaking out of your life—you’re walking into the light with your bags packed.
The Lovers here is not romance fluff. It’s alignment. Head and gut finally shook hands. The indecision tax has been paid in full. This also suggests meaningful encounters on the road—people who matter, not just polite travel ghosts. Conversations that change posture. Eye contact that lingers.
Six of Pentacles is the quiet hero of the spread. Exchange. Support flowing both ways. You are neither bleeding money nor being stingy with experience. This trip is resourced—not just financially, but energetically. Help appears when needed. Generosity without debt.
There’s no lingering negative energy. None. If there was resistance, it already lost. This is balanced, life-affirming movement. Travel as reciprocity: you give yourself to the road, the road gives back. Clean transaction. Green light.
Travel hits like a benevolent squall: Sun’s golden optimism, Lovers’ harmonious flirtation, Six of Pentacles’ charitable redistribution of karma. Indeed, these first weeks feel like departing a cluttered attic for a sunlit piazza.
Writing:
The Magician → The Chariot → The Fool → Ten of Wands
This order matters. This is a plot.
The Magician
You already have the tools. This isn’t about learning how to write or finding your voice. That ship sailed years ago and left scorch marks. This card says initiation through intention. Someone notices what you can do—or you finally decide to act like you know it.
This is also the card of pitching, shaping, framing. Turning raw brilliance into something legible to the world.
The Chariot
Momentum. Direction. Willpower harnessed instead of sprayed everywhere like buckshot. This suggests pursuit—either you actively chase an opportunity, or an external force (editor, publisher, collaborator) starts moving things forward fast.
Travel + Chariot is no accident, by the way. Physical movement is greasing the wheels of professional movement.
The Fool
Here’s the pivot. This is the leap. A reset. A yes without guarantees.
If you’re asking about a deal: this says new path, unconventional structure, or a non-obvious doorway. It may not look like the deal you imagined. It may require you to risk being misunderstood for a minute. The Fool doesn’t negotiate from fear—he negotiates from curiosity.
Ten of Wands
And here’s the cost.
This card doesn’t say “failure.” It says weight. Overextension. Carrying more than your share because you can. The work expands. Expectations stack. Deadlines multiply like rabbits with caffeine problems.
This is the warning label:
Just because opportunity arrives doesn’t mean you must carry it alone.
Big Picture Read
Yes, there is something in motion regarding your writing.
Yes, it likely connects to travel, visibility, or a shift in context.
Yes, it may feel sudden or oddly timed.
But the success comes bundled with labor—and the real test will be boundaries, not talent.
You’re not being asked if you can do it.
You’re being asked how much of yourself you’re willing to haul uphill—and whether you’ll drop what isn’t yours.
Final Word:
The travel is blessed because it’s chosen.
The writing path opens because you step forward.
The burden appears because the world finally takes you seriously.
The trick now?
Travel light—on the page and in the body.
Destiny doesn’t need a pack mule.
This phase—activation to acceleration—mirrors the creative frenzy of Kerouac pounding keys on a scroll, or Woolf diving into the stream of consciousness, only to emerge with a manuscript that’s half-feral wolf, half-polished gem. Clarity spikes, ideas demand embodiment: a pitch that breathes like a golem awakening. But beware the yes-too-soon; it’s the siren song of overcommitment, luring you toward burnout’s rocky shore. Let it be feral. Perfection is the enemy of the wild word, as Picasso knew.
What to Leave Behind:
Seven of Pentacles · Seven of Wands
Seven of Pentacles — Put Down the Endless Waiting
This card is the long stare at the field. The checking. The measuring. The “Is it ready yet?” loop.
What you’re being told to release:
The habit of over-tending work that’s already viable
The urge to keep polishing instead of harvesting
The belief that timing must be perfect before action is justified
You’ve planted enough. Some things are ready to be taken to market, shared, submitted, risked. Continued waiting isn’t wisdom anymore—it’s disguised caution. Stop standing in front of your own work with a clipboard.
Seven of Wands — Put Down Defensive Posture
This is the card of constant justification. Holding the high ground but never resting on it.
What to release:
Explaining yourself to people who aren’t in the conversation
Preemptively arguing with critics who haven’t shown up
Carrying the chip on your shoulder like it’s a credential
You don’t need to fight for legitimacy right now. The ground holds. The work speaks.
You don’t need to prove you belong—you already do. Put the spear down.
Combined Message (and it’s sharp)
Stop waiting and stop defending. Those two together are exhausting you in opposite directions:
One delays action
The other burns energy before it’s even needed
Both are survival strategies from an earlier chapter. They worked once. They don’t now.
Put down:
The farmer who won’t harvest
The warrior who won’t rest
What replaces them is quieter and more dangerous:
The writer who acts without asking permission and lets the work land where it lands.
That’s not reckless. That’s mature power.