Celebrating, wholeness, and healing…in a world askew

Pour yourself some tea—or something stronger—because this week’s cards have a layered story to tell…

We’ve entered the Autumn Equinox—Mabon—when the light and dark should stand in balance. Yet if you look around, the scales feel anything but level and celebration feels lopsided right now, doesn’t it? To do it feels almost like an act of betrayal.

And yet, here’s what the cards brought forward:

Hathor / Celebration (From The Wild & Sacred Feminine Oracle Deck – Amazon | Bookshop.Org Affiliate Links)
Hathor is the Egyptian goddess of joy, music, and delight. But don’t mistake her celebration for frivolity. In mythology, she is also the protector of women and children, the fierce one who knows that laughter and dance are lifelines when the world is breaking apart. Her card reminds us that celebration is sacred rebellion. It’s a choice to honor beauty even when cruelty is loudest.

The World (From the Ostara Tarot (Amazon | Bookshop.org Affiliate Links)
The World marks completion, integration, and the wholeness of cycles. You’ve walked the spiral path, you’ve learned, you’ve stumbled, you’ve grown—and here you stand, part of something larger. It doesn’t promise tidy endings, but it does offer perspective: endings are never clean, but we are part of a larger cycle. What looks like collapse may also be compost—fertile ground for what comes next.

Raphael & the Green Light (From the Angels & Auras Oracle Deck – Amazon | Bookshop.Org Affiliate Links)
Raphael, the angel of healing, carries the frequency of green: the heart chakra, the medicine of nature, the promise of growth after destruction. His presence whispers to you that healing is possible, even here. But healing is not passive—it requires constant tending, and that wholeness doesn’t mean everything is fine. It means allowing the cracks, tending them, and still believing that the heart can mend.

So here’s the collective invitation this week: celebrate carefully, celebrate defiantly, celebrate as medicine. Not the false celebration of power propped up by hate, but the small, radical kind that stitches people together, like sharing a meal, dancing in the kitchen, planting something green, writing words that truth cannot silence.

In this unbalanced season of balance, real celebration becomes a sacred act of mischief. It tells the world that you cannot steal our joy, you cannot dictate our hearts, you cannot decide what wholeness looks like.

Yours in (good) mischief and moonlight,

Auntie V.

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