Dear Friend,

The world feels heavy these days, doesn’t it? There’s a tension in the air, as if the ground beneath us is shifting, throwing us off balance and making us question what we once took for granted. If you’ve been feeling this way, you’re not alone. These moments, as challenging as they are, hold within them a sacred opportunity—a chance to confront, to transform, and to rediscover the strength and light that have always been inside you.

I’ve been reflecting on how we navigate times like these, how we steady ourselves when life tears down the structures we’ve built. This reminds me of the wisdom found in the tarot, particularly in two cards that seem to echo the times we’re in: The Tower and The Star.

The Tower is a force of upheaval, unmistakable in its power. It represents those moments when life pulls the rug out from under us. Picture the lightning strike, the walls crumbling, the fall into the unknown. It’s not subtle, and it’s not gentle. These are the moments that demand we face what’s no longer working—the structures, routines, or beliefs that have outlived their purpose.

But the Tower, as brutal as it feels, is not here to punish—it’s here to clear the way. How often do we cling to things simply because they’re familiar, mistaking routine for safety? The Tower’s destruction is a kind of mercy, forcing us to confront what we’ve been avoiding and make space for something new.

This idea isn’t confined to tarot. It’s woven through the myths and traditions of cultures across the world. In Hinduism, it’s reflected in the dance of Shiva, the destroyer, whose purpose is not chaos for its own sake but to make way for renewal. In Christianity, it resonates with the story of Job, whose trials strip him of everything, only for him to emerge stronger, his faith deeper than before. And in Celtic lore, it’s the storm that uproots the forest, making room for new growth.

After the storm of the Tower comes The Star—a quiet, steady light that guides us forward. Where the Tower is chaos, the Star is calm. It offers renewal, healing, and the reassurance that even when we’re brought to our knees, there’s a way back up.

In Hindu thought, this light is the Atman, the divine essence within each of us. It’s the part of us that remains unshaken, no matter how turbulent the world becomes. In Christianity, it’s the light of Christ—a reminder that we are called to be the light of the world, to shine even in darkness. And in Celtic tradition, it’s the eternal flame of Brigid, burning through the longest nights, a symbol of resilience and inspiration.

These moments of destruction and renewal aren’t random. They are part of the rhythm of life itself. In Hinduism, this rhythm is seen in the interplay of Brahma (creation), Vishnu (preservation), and Shiva (destruction). In Christianity, it’s the resurrection—the promise that even after the greatest loss, life will rise again. And in Celtic wisdom, it’s the turning of the seasons, the constant cycle of death and rebirth.

Virginia Woolf once wrote:
“Change was incessant, and change perhaps would never cease. High battlements of thought, habits that had seemed as durable as stone, went down like shadows at the touch of another mind and left a naked sky and fresh stars twinkling in it.”

If you’re in a Tower moment, hold on to this truth: the rubble will clear, and a sky full of stars will emerge. Beneath the chaos lies something deeper—a chance to rebuild, stronger and wiser than before.

You’ve been carrying a lot, haven’t you? The weight of responsibilities, commitments, and the constant demands of life can wear anyone down. It’s easy to lose touch with the part of yourself that’s steady, the part that doesn’t break under pressure. But that part of you—the light within you—is still there. It’s waiting, as constant as the stars, ready to guide you forward.

This journey isn’t about fixing yourself or putting everything back exactly the way it was. It’s about stripping away what no longer serves you, remembering who you are, and stepping into the strength that’s already yours.

Trust this process, my friend. The Tower may shake you, but the Star will heal you. You’re not alone in this, and you’re stronger than you think. Keep going. Your light matters.

With Grace and resolve,
Casey