Ace of Swords → King of Swords You’ve been shown already. And yet… here it is again. Not softer. Not clearer. Just unavoidable. The truth has already cut through. You felt it. You saw it. You just didn’t move. The Ace doesn’t repeat itself for comfort. It repeats when you ignore it. And now it hardens into the King. This is where it stops being a moment… and becomes a standard. The King doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t question what he already knows. He acts like someone who isn’t confused. So if you’re still circling it, still trying to blur the edges, still pretending there’s something left to “work out”— That’s not uncertainty. That’s avoidance. You know exactly what this is about. The only question left is whether you’re going to hold yourself to that level… or drop back into something smaller because it’s easier to live with. The truth is already in your hands. Now show me what you do with it.

Each day I pull two cards and read the current running through the day. Tarot doesn’t create the energy — it reveals it. Today’s pull Ace of Swords → The Hermit, reversed. The sword comes first. That matters. The Ace of Swords is truth — sharp, clean, and impossible to argue with. Not the kind you dress up to make it comfortable. The kind that lands and suddenly the situation looks very different. Then the Hermit appears, but he’s reversed. The Hermit is the one holding the lantern. The seeker. The one who steps back from the noise to see clearly. But reversed, that lantern’s been there while someone’s been pacing the same mental path instead of actually looking at what the light is showing them. And there’s a reason this pairing is interesting. The Hermit is tied to Virgo — the sign of analysis, discernment, the mind trying to understand every angle. That’s useful… until it turns into circling the same thought over and over. Today doesn’t allow that. Because the sword arrives first. Clarity cuts straight through the overthinking. Through the stories we tell ourselves. Through the comfortable little corners we hide things in. Something becomes obvious. And once the blade has done its work, there’s no wandering past the truth pretending you didn’t see it. The lantern’s already lit. Now you actually have to look.

This comes from the Key of Solomon. One of the most significant grimoires ever written. But the charm itself predates even that — the SATOR square has been found carved into Roman ruins dating back to the first century AD. Pompeii. Cirencester. Across the ancient world. Two thousand years of use. I am placing it in your hands today. What it does: Draws grace and favour toward you. From people, from situations, from rooms you walk into. The Key of Solomon is direct — those who carry this find goodwill from those around them. Quietly. Consistently. Every day you carry it. When: Friday or Sunday, during the hour of Venus or the hour of the Sun. Search "planetary hours calculator" online, enter your location and date. It will tell you exactly when. What you need: — New, unused paper — A pen kept for your workings — Silk or clean cloth to wrap it. Any colour except black or grey. The SATOR Square: Draw a grid on your paper. Five rows, five columns. Write this — one letter per square: S A T O R A R E P O T E N E T O P E R A R O T A S This is a bidirectional palindrome. It reads the same left to right and top to bottom. Reverse it in either direction — it returns to itself perfectly. TENET sits at the centre, a palindrome within a palindrome, holding the whole structure. The ancient world did not consider this coincidence. Neither do I. Beneath the square, write: IAH — IAH — IAH KETHER — CHOKMAH — BINAH — GEDULAH — GEBURAH — TIPHERETH — NETZACH — HOD — YESOD — MALKUTH ABRAHAM — ISAAC — JACOB — SHADRACH — MESHACH — ABEDNEGO "Be ye all present in my aid and for whatsoever I shall desire to obtain." To finish: Fold toward you. Wrap in the silk. Carry it on your right side, close to the skin. Do not show it. Do not explain it. It has been working for two thousand years. Now it works for you.

Even the darkest practitioners return to the earth. Not to be cleansed. Not to be “light.” To remember what they are. When the mind gets loud and the world starts pulling at you from every direction, the simplest thing you can do is step outside. Walk where there are trees. Stand where the wind moves. Put your hand on something that has been here longer than you. The earth does not demand that you be gentle. It does not ask you to be good. Storms tear through forests. Roots split stone. The sea devours whole coastlines and then falls quiet again. Nature understands power and stillness in the same breath. That is why witches return to it. So if the week has scattered your mind, go outside for a while. No ritual. No performance. Just stand on the ground and remember where your strength actually comes from. — The Veiled High Priestess 🖤

You've come home. This is the space where you can finally be yourself. No apologies. No shame. No guilt. No second guessing your thoughts or your decisions. You're exactly where you're supposed to be. You've struggled your entire life with it. That thing inside you. You've dampened it down, shut it out, buried it so deep you almost convinced yourself it wasn't there. You've been good. Done as you should. Lived the way you were supposed to. But it never left. That burning. That darkness. That deep knowing that you are meant for more than the life you've been performing. That feeling isn't something to be ashamed of. It's natural. It's yours. It's what makes you who you are. It's what makes you a witch. You're not alone in it anymore. You're surrounded by women who carry the same fire, the same darkness, the same quiet fury at a life lived too small. This is where you learn to stop burying it. This is where you learn to embrace it. And for those who are ready to go deeper — there is a door here. You'll know when you're ready to open it. Welcome. 🖤