Kitchen Table Tarot

Hello, friend, and welcome to my kitchen table ♥️ This read is a little “late,” so to speak, though these writings are timeless. They are here for you to find when you need them. Length will vary, too—sometimes it’s difficult to translate into words the energy projected by any given spread, and some simply don’t need as much explanation as others. Personally speaking, my own struggle in the last couple of days has led me to be still and quiet, as much as I wanted to post here. I don’t just bring my cards to the table; I bring my experience, and it’s not always rose-colored. I hope that if you are also feeling heartbruised and quiet that this read will help, even if it doesn’t fully resonate. You are so welcome here, no matter how you’re feeling.

I used a different deck today, the This Might Hurt tarot deck by artist Isabella Rotman. I shuffled with my usual deck, the Lightseer, for a long time before finally getting the hint that it didn’t want to speak. I was drawn to This Might Hurt because I love the bright colors and clear illustrations, and Rotman’s careful attention to the symbolism found in tarot brings a real clarity. I hope you enjoy the artistry of these cards as much as I do.

This 2 of cups strikes me as describing both an internal balance within you—a reconciliation of equally weighted conflicts—and resolution between people in the physical world. The way the figures on the card are holding each other, in this energy, feels bittersweet. It’s not a goodbye, but there is a feeling of separation—that after this embrace they may have to part ways for a while. The nature of this imminent change may be quite dramatic, as the Death card suggests, but the support present in the 2 of Cups is there to strengthen you and take with you on that road even if you are apart. You are not a rock nor an island, but a human being—and having to leave people behind, whether temporarily or forever, of your own choosing or theirs—can leave your heart feeling bruised and out-of-kilter. Be gentle with yourself as you approach these changes.

There is an idea that the Death card is scary, or predicts actual physical death. I presume that if you are reading this, or watch tarot reads on YouTube, or work with tarot and other oracle cards yourself, you understand this—but the fear of death can still permeate. It’s an unknown quantity that we will only understand when its time comes. In that same way, big life shifts can sometimes feel insurmountable when it means being without the people, places, or things that make living seem worthwhile. But the end of something is never truly the end, and nothing is truly yours in this world—just on loan. When you begin to reconcile these truths, the changes in perspective will carry you where you need to be, and the Ace of Wands has popped up to remind you that one such place is the creative state itself. When something is no longer accessible to us, we have the power to make something new. If you feel you are traversing into darkness, unsure of what’s waiting around every bend and corner, remember that you wield the power of creative firelight. It will guide you through this phase of your life.

Thank you for being here today and all days. You are a precious creation and hold the light of love within you. No matter where you are in your life’s travels, remember that you are loved and always welcome at my kitchen table. -KTT 🌻💛