From Survival to Something Else
Tarot reflections on money, timing, and finally feeling ready
I asked the cards to tell me the story of my relationship with money.
It’s always been a painful topic for me. I’ve never really had enough—just drips and drabs, patchy work, projects that don’t quite take off, and a quiet, consistent anxiety in the background. But I also feel something shifting now. As I prepare to open the paid tier of this newsletter, I can sense I’m building something different—something steady and soul-led and real. So I asked tarot to speak honestly. To show me what this has really been about.
I pulled: 6 of Wands, The Devil, The Star. Then Judgement reversed, 2 of Pentacles, 8 of Swords, Queen of Swords, and finally 8 of Pentacles.
It’s a story.
The 6 of Wands begins with a kind of hope. A knowing. Even in the early days of my life with money—when it was more of a fantasy than a fact—there was still this sense that I was meant for something. That I would make it one day, not for the applause, but because I’d earned it in my soul. It’s the feeling of being seen after long invisibility. But that desire to be seen got tied up with something else too.
The Devil arrived next—clear as day. The trap of the system. The shame spiral. The way money is dangled like a promise but withheld like a punishment. This card reflected every time I felt like I had to betray some small part of myself to earn a crumb. And how I internalised that bargain. That if I wanted more, I’d have to play the game. That survival was the cost of freedom.
But then came The Star.
This one hit me. Because even through all of that, I never stopped believing. The Star is the soul underneath, the vision that didn’t die. It’s the soft glimmer I’ve always followed, even when it made no sense. It reminded me that no matter how bad things got, something in me still believed that I could do it differently. That maybe I could build a life that didn’t demand my compromise.
Then things got harder to look at.
Judgement reversed. The card I haven’t been able to put away.
It spoke so clearly: you still haven’t forgiven yourself. For not figuring it out sooner. For wasting time. For not already being where you “should” be. I felt that card deep in my chest. It was like hearing my own thoughts spoken back to me—“You could’ve done this nine years ago. If only you’d known.” But I didn’t know. I had to experiment. I had to try all the wrong doors to learn what a true door even felt like.
The 2 of Pentacles followed, and it made me want to cry. The years of balancing. Of making it work, barely. Of being resourceful to the point of exhaustion. This was never laziness. It was a full-time job just surviving.
Then the 8 of Swords: the trap of my own mind. How even now, as things begin to shift, my thoughts creep in—telling me it’s too late, or too risky, or too indulgent to want more than “just enough.”
But then came the Queen of Swords. And I exhaled.
This is who I’ve become. Clear. Precise. No longer willing to gaslight myself. She holds the truth and she’s not afraid to use it. I saw myself in her: not cold, but conscious. Ready.
And finally, the 8 of Pentacles. The slow, sacred work. Not a windfall. Not a viral moment. Just the day-by-day devotion to what I’m building. It felt like the cards were saying, you’re already doing it. You’ve already stepped into the new pattern. Now it’s just about staying with it.
But I kept the Judgement card out.
Because I knew there was more to unpick.
So I asked again, to go deeper into this story. I wanted to understand that quiet, persistent judgement I feel toward myself. I pulled: Knight of Swords, 4 of Swords reversed, The Lovers, and Queen of Wands reversed.
The Knight of Swords came racing in first—urgency, overthinking, pushing forward to escape the discomfort. That part of me that thinks I can fix the pain by outworking it. That if I just go fast enough, I won’t have to feel the shame. But underneath that drive is exhaustion.
The 4 of Swords reversed showed the deep tiredness I’ve been carrying. Not just lately, but from years of never truly feeling safe. I’m only just beginning to realise how much energy I’ve spent keeping myself upright.
And then came The Lovers. And I cried again.
Because I saw what it really asked of me: to choose. To choose myself. To love even the version of me who didn’t know how. To stop holding a grudge against my past self for not doing better with the information she didn’t have. She was learning. She was trying. She was doing her best with zero security.
The Queen of Wands reversed was the final piece. The part of me that has hidden my full power, because somewhere along the way I learned that being radiant was dangerous. That to want more was greedy. That desiring wealth or ease would make me less spiritual, or less kind. That wanting more than survival meant I was selfish.
But I’m not selfish.
I’m just tired of scraping by.
And I’m ready to believe that it’s okay to feel safe. To have enough. More than enough. Not to hoard it but to be resourced, nourished, held. So I can keep doing this work. So I can thrive in it. So I can give more, because I’m not constantly trying to fill a hole.
I think this is the work now. Not just sharing the message of creative reconnection, but living it. Letting my own nervous system believe that a life shaped by soul can also be supported by money. Not as proof of worth—but as a natural outcome of right relationship. Of choosing love over shame.
So yes, I’m going paid soon. And yes, it’s scary. But it doesn’t feel extractive or greedy—it feels like healing. Like a reclamation. Like the first time in my life I’m saying:
I get to do this.
And I get to be okay while doing it.
If this spoke to something in you, you might enjoy Deeper Threads—the paid tier of Invisible Strings. It’s where I’ll be sharing more personal, unfolding reflections like this one, grounded in tarot, soul work, and the real-life process of creative reconnection. It’s slow, honest, and shaped in real time. You’re warmly invited to join me there.