THE EMPRESS – love

In love, The Empress is one of the warmest cards in the deck, because it tells you that you don't have to earn love.

Look closely at the image, where a woman lies reclined among her pillows in a ripe wheat field, everything blooming around her, and a stream trickling in the background, in no hurry to go anywhere — and notice that she does nothing: she doesn't take action, she doesn't fix anyone, she doesn't prove anything, she simply exists, while everything around her grows.

This card is about a kind of love that cannot be earned, only allowed: whoever believes that they will be loved if they do enough, if they are useful enough, if they are thin enough, if they always solve everything — they will work their whole life for something that is inherently free.

If you are in a relationship, this card is now asking you to stop pulling: don't fix him, don't organize his life for him, and don't ask every day if he still loves you, because wheat needs space to grow, and whoever goes out every morning to see if it's growing will trample it.

If you are single, the sign of Venus on the heart-shaped shield at her feet is for you, as this card also speaks of attractiveness — but not the kind you have to work for, but the kind that appears in a person when they finally don't want to prove anything.

And pay attention to the pomegranates running along her dress, full of seeds, because this card can be about not only children, but everything that comes from the two of you and lives on: a home, a custom, a table around which people gather.

Her shadow, however, is sharp, and likely familiar: everyone is well-fed at your table, except you — you notice what they need, you bring the blanket before they ask, and then when everyone has left, you stand at the sink, and you don't even remember if you ate.

Today, nourish yourself too.

You don't have to earn love.

I know this will be hard for you to believe, because all your life you've learned exactly the opposite: that you have a place somewhere if you are useful, if you notice what others need, if you yield, if you solve things, and if you never ask for anything in return.

Look closely at the card, where a woman lies reclined among her pillows, in a ripe wheat field, everything blooming around her, a crown of twelve stars shining above her head, and a stream trickling in the background, in no hurry to go anywhere.

And now observe what she is doing — nothing. She isn't taking action, she isn't fixing anyone, she isn't proving anything, she isn't asking every five minutes if everything is alright: she simply exists, while everything around her grows.

This is your message tonight, because love is not a wage that can be earned, but rather like that wheat field: it ripens not because someone goes out every morning and tugs at its stalks, but from time, sun, and rain.

But you are doing exactly this with what is most important to you right now: every day you check it, every day you improve it, every day you re-read its messages, every day you look for a sign that it's still there — and you call this caring, when it is fear, merely dressed up as diligence.

For wheat needs space to grow, and whoever goes out every morning to see if it's growing will trample it.

Observe the stream in the background as well, for it does not stop, nor does it rush, it simply flows, as it does not need to exert itself to be water — and you do not need to exert yourself to be lovable, for the kind of attraction this card speaks of appears in a person precisely when they finally want to prove nothing.

So today, don't tug at anything: don't write another message, don't ask about it, don't organize their life for them, and don't try to fix it. Instead, go outside, eat something slowly, and allow yourself the luxury of not being useful to anyone for a day.

In the reversed position, everyone at your table is well-fed, except you — you bring the blanket before they even ask, and then when everyone has left, you stand at the sink, and you don't even remember if you ate today.