This morning I kept thinking about how much of my inner life is written in symbols. A hawk circles above the fields near my house, and every time I see it something deep stirs…
a reminder of vigilance, focus, higher vision.
I could say it’s just a bird, but that would miss the truth of how the psyche works. Images like that are old programs written in a language older than words. They wake something that knows more than I do.
Tarot does the same thing. You pull a card and feel it moving in you before you even interpret it. The colors, the posture of the figures, the atmosphere, they bypass thought and go straight to the body.
That’s how the unconscious speaks. These images aren’t passive. They look back. They scan you for resonance, searching for the part of you ready to shift.
It makes me realize how much of our so-called rational life is really guided by unseen imagery. The city skyline, the glow of a screen, the face of someone we love, all of it symbolic code, triggering meaning and memory. The trick is to stay awake enough to notice which symbols we’ve chosen to live under.
Today I’m experimenting with that awareness. Watching the symbols I interact with, noticing what stirs. If I’m the magician of my own psyche, then every image is a potential spell, every glance a chance to rewrite the script.