audio version:
Each morning, as part of my meditation practice, I draw cards, not just any cards, but ones that carry inspiration, hope, and direction. I keep different decks for different rituals, each one a doorway into wisdom that moves beyond my busy mind.
Right now, I’m using Kim Krans’ archetype cards as my yearly compass: one card for each month, twelve total, with an additional card holding my overarching theme. Their guidance astonishes me. Month after month, I watch the synchronicities echo the themes I’ve drawn. But what matters most is this: I don’t just notice and move on. I write about the messages. I paint images around them. I place each card on my altar, keeping it alive in daily view. That’s how fleeting insight becomes lived wisdom.
Another treasure is Alana Fairchild’s Wild Kuan Yin Oracle deck. Every time I pull one, I feel wrapped in her embrace, Kuan Yin, the beloved Bodhisattva of Compassion, known as the Goddess of Mercy. Her presence is gentle and maternal, meeting me exactly where I am: soothing my heart when it feels heavy, bringing peace when I struggle, reminding me always that I am not alone. Whether I meditate with her mantra, “Om Mani Padme Hum,” or simply whisper her name, she answers. She has become my anchor: pure, unshakable compassion that steadies me, no matter what I face.
So it was no surprise that when I drew a card this week, its message went straight to my heart. My shoulders softened. My belly released.
I live a self-examined life. I watch myself with care, through physical sensations, the tone of my voice, the thoughts in my mind. This awareness has carried me far. And yet lately, I’ve noticed something shift. Fearful thoughts have been arriving more often: fears of aging, of losing someone I love, of all the what-ifs that haven’t and may never come to pass.
My practice of self-awareness, so helpful for so long, has at times tipped into self-anxiety, turning observation into a catalog of fears, rather than a gateway to life. My mind, skilled at noticing, has begun to notice too much, inventing problems that don’t exist.
This morning’s card named the pattern with startling clarity:
“The oracle asks you to let go completely and allow the Divine to take over. It is time to take your hands off matters. It is a time to come out of your head, into your body, and allow yourself to feel and experience it without recrimination, analysis, shame, or judgment.”
The words struck like a bell. They showed me the difference between self-examination and self-imprisonment, between awareness that frees and overthinking that paralyzes.
True wisdom isn’t about controlling the currents. It’s about softening your grip, dropping into the body, and letting the Divine, whatever name you give it, carry what you cannot.
And so, my shoulders softened. My belly released. Not because I solved anything, but because I surrendered.
This is Kuan Yin’s teaching: that being held in compassion can be more healing than any amount of analysis. That we can rest in presence instead of measuring ourselves. That trust, too, is a sacred practice.
So this week, I am practicing letting go. Practicing presence in the body. Feeling without judgment. Trusting what is larger than me to hold me steady.
May you find your own moments of softening this week, moments where you can loosen your grip and let yourself be held.
