SUNDAY, 4 OCTOBER

/ pick an option

choose one first, the card comes after

three below. take the one you already know the answer to and would rather not say.

one. the tiredness you have been explaining away. two. the appointment you keep almost making. three. the thing you have stopped mentioning.

hold it there. the card first, yours is at the bottom.

choose one, then scroll

TODAY'S CARD

THE HIGH PRIESTESS

 

II

the high priestess is the card of what you already know and have not said out loud, and it lands on a sunday because sunday is when there is finally nothing making noise over the top of it.

the body has been sending you information for a while now. undramatic information, mostly. the way a particular hour of the day feels these days, what a late night costs by wednesday, the thing that has been going on for three months that you have described to nobody.

and the habit in this decade is to overrule it. everybody is tired. it is probably nothing. it would be embarrassing to make a fuss and be told it is perfectly normal. so the information gets filed, and the filing is not free, because part of your attention stays on it whether you look at it or not.

a sunday evening in october, with the week ahead already arriving early. nothing here is a prediction about your health and nothing here says anything is wrong. the point is much smaller than that. you know something, and knowing it silently is the most tiring way to know it.

what is worth leaning into today: saying the thing out loud once, to one person, in plain words.

what is worth staying away from: waiting until it is dramatic enough to be worth mentioning. that standard keeps rising and it never quite gets met.

my advice for today: write the thing down exactly as it is, with dates if you have them. paper first. it makes the conversation with a doctor, or with anybody else, far shorter and considerably less frightening.

what has your body been telling you that you have not passed on to anybody. as few words as you like.

 

option one. the tiredness you have been explaining away

it has a reason every single time. the week, the season, the not sleeping properly, the age you are. all of them plausible, and you have never once written them down next to each other.

that is worth doing. two weeks of one line a day, what time it hit and what you had been doing. patterns show up quickly and they are usually undramatic ones, about sleep or food or the shape of the day. if it is one of those you can act on it. if it is not, you walk into an appointment with two weeks of notes rather than a vague sentence, and that is the whole difference between being reassured and being taken seriously.

option two. the appointment you keep almost making

it reaches the top of the list on a monday and has slid off by thursday. the phone call takes four minutes and it has now taken four months.

four months of not quite doing it is rarely about the four minutes. more often it is about not wanting to be told something, or not wanting to be told nothing and feel foolish for asking. both are completely ordinary and neither improves with waiting. the trick that works for most women is taking the decision out of the moment: book it far enough ahead that it does not feel like an emergency, and let the future version of you keep the appointment. she will be glad you did it.

option three. the thing you have stopped mentioning

it was new once and you did mention it, and somebody said everybody gets that, and you have not raised it since.

that is how most of these go quiet. one shrug from one person, years ago, and the thing becomes yours to carry privately. it does not have to stay that way. you are allowed to raise something a second time, with somebody different, with no new evidence at all, simply because it is still happening. persistence is information in itself, and a thing that has continued for three months is a different item altogether from the thing you mentioned once in passing.