Am I Still on the Same Soul Path?

I don’t practice divination, but I do believe there’s something sacred about intuition. I use tarot to journal, and every now and then, I use an oracle deck to guide my focus for the day. Last month, each time I consulted my oracle, I kept drawing the same card.

The third time I drew the card, I considered removing it from the deck and trying again. After all, I’m not great at shuffling cards. But I stopped myself. There’s something I need to take from this recurring card. I need to keep it with me for a little while.

Tonalpohualli describes a 260-day calendar used in ancient Mesoamerica (my ancestors!). Basically, it has 13 symbols associated with deities and 20 “day signs” (13 x 20 = 260) that, combined in a certain sequence, give each day a unique significance—and a rhythm of ritual to follow over the course of the calendar. Today, September 2, for example, is “a day when the arrows of fate fall from the sky like [lightning bolts]. A good day to seek justice, a bad day to act against others.” Good thing I’m not out to get anyone? 

Truthfully, the art of the card freaked me out a little bit—I’m not pregnant and won’t be. But 260 days is around the length of a full pregnancy, which has its own individual, significant days and rhythms. I apply symbols of pregnancy or fertility to other gestations, my ideas and creative projects.

So why do I keep seeing this calendar? Why do I need to think about it?

The oracle guidebook tells me to think about my “soul path,” whether I’m on it or off-track. I think I’m on it, but I’m not sure where it’s going. I thought I knew. I’ve been enjoying the ride (e.g., career change in my 30s so work doesn’t drain me, moving in with my partner who will be my husband soon, feeling connected to a small town and exploring a new part of my state, experiencing new parts of my country and the world) and am not impatient about getting to the point. But I know I can be taking more from my path, savoring more, acknowledging everyday significance. Maybe that will bring me closer to the creative purpose I think I’ve been following?

Being a writer is hard. And I especially don’t feel like a writer if I’m not writing. I know I’m writing here, but I feel like it doesn’t count because it’s not what people think about when they think about a writer. (Read this good piece by Caroline Donahue about what it means to be a “real” writer to understand what I mean.) My relationship with my writing and my creativity changed when I became an adult, and I don’t like it. I’ve given myself so many barriers, which lead to existential freaking out.

This past week in The New York Times Well newsletter, I read about using life review for living more fully. I think, based on what I’ve lived, I’ve done and accomplished a lot that others can’t see. I spend a lot of time “in my head” and am best known on the exterior for being a good student, good worker, and generally quiet and agreeable. That makes for a pretty boring epitaph. I wish my creative life was just as recognized, not because I want to be a “famous author” but because I care about it so much. 

I’m very in tune with the Wheel of the Year and its spiritual connection to my life, but I haven’t really treated my writing as a spiritual connection. It’s work, a product, a tool. What if I gave the written word the same reverence as the sun and the seasonal rhythms of our planet? I only sort of feel this way, but I think I need more of it. And more so than exposing myself to it, I need to just live that way. You don’t have to convince or remind me to feel awe when I’m in nature. But when I open up my current read? When I look back over a blog entry? I need to always be aware that there is more than plot and comprehension to be mindful of.

So let’s see. We’re approaching a season of blessings, gratitude, and inner balance, so can I successfully bring more ritual and meaning to my writing?

Do you have a spiritual connection with writing? How did you find it and keep it?