This word has been floating through my head for the past little while. Every time it passes through, I ask (myself? God? the Universe?) what exactly I need to reclaim. The answer is always the same: “Yourself”.

But which parts of myself, I wonder. My inner child? My shadows? My joyful spirit? My bubbly personality? My intellectual (read geeky) parts? My creative self? My spiritual powers? My confidence? My humility? On and on and on I ask. The answer is always the same: “Yes”.

There are so many pieces and parts to me that often feel as if they get displaced. They’re never quite lost to me, but they may get shoved aside or pushed into a corner for a while, until I feel the loss and the need to retrieve that neglected sliver of me. That process of recognition and retrieval has become easier as I’ve healed some wounds and cleared some trauma. It’s become easier to find the displaced aspects and dust them off, giving attention and honor to them once more.

Yet I wonder. Will there come a time when the act of displacement ceases? Or at least lessens? Is this the reclamation? The moment when I will be able to hold all aspects of myself in balance? When all pieces and parts aren’t seen and felt as separate, but as a fraction of the whole?

Maybe the reclamation goes further than that, outside of my view and perspective of myself. Maybe the reclamation will be my remembrance of the truth that we are all connected, that the pieces and parts of myself work in tandem with the pieces and parts of others. That the pieces and parts of all of us are really fractals of the whole. That we are all one. That there really is no separation between us at all, just an imperfect perspective. And someday we will have our vison fine-tuned. Someday we will see. Someday we will know, and we will reclaim ourselves, even as we reclaim each other, as we reclaim our identity as whole and complete.

There are shadows in the mundane, and there is beauty in the shadow.

“Shadow work” is a buzz word in the spiritual community, and it refers to the process of looking at one’s own behaviors, habits and patterns that can lead to fear, self-sabotage, and a life that is not what one desires.

The shadows exist for all of us, but they don’t have to be dark and scary things. In fact, the presence of a shadow requires the presence of light. Without the light, the shadow would not exist.

Years ago shadow work was dense, heavy, and took long periods of time in a dark night of the soul. But there is more light on the earth now, there is more light in our souls, there is more light being spread and being embodied. And so the shadows aren’t as dense, they’re not as heavy, they’re not as scary.

It can still be scary to look at them, to face them. But the fear lies in the fear itself, not in the shadows. And that fear is really a fear of accepting the consequences of one’s own actions. It’s a fear of seeing all of oneself. Because what happens when we see ourselves as we truly are? Will we despise ourselves? Will we be stuck in shame and guilt? Will we ever love ourselves again?

The answer to that lies in a choice. We either face the shadows and succumb to that fear, or we face the shadows and remember the presence of light. We see the beauty of the shadow, and how shadows exist in the mundane. We see how normal they are, how alike we are to all humans.

And we let the light in, which makes way for the love, and the healing begins. 

There’s not an easy answer for this. And yet it’s not complicated either.

I love it. I love the cards, and their meanings, and the way they tell a story when they’re laid out on the table. I love the modern decks with their dynamic artwork. I love the way an artist can infuse each card with their own meaning, both through the artwork but more likely through their own energy and intention.

I love the way people respond to the messages as I channel them and pass them on. I love how a certain phrase or a particular image speaks directly to a person’s heart and soul. And maybe that’s the crux of it. Tarot speaks to the soul, in a way that no other medium has ever done for me. It’s the way I connect to Spirit, to the All-That-Is. It’s the way that I feel the energy and the emotion and the truth of the message as I allow the words to flow from Source directly through me. It’s the way that my own experiences and healing act as a filter and translator for the message. Rather than inhibiting the reading, they enhance it. They add the flavor and the spice and help me connect with the audience, with the collective, with the person sitting across from me (at a table or through a screen).

Why Tarot? Because it suits me. Because I understand its language. Because there’s always a message of light and shadow, of illusion and truth. Because when I shuffle the cards, something magical happens. I tune in. I receive. I pour out. I share. It’s the ultimate spiritual practice of balancing masculine and feminine within me. And I feel more like me with every shuffle, and every card that falls.