Discover more from devils & fools
from justice to death
exploring the shift from libra to scorpio season
hello, friends. we’ll move from libra season into scorpio season in a few days, but i wanted to share this post early since today is the launch of my collaboration with sovereignty herbs: MOON + STAR, a ritual-based herbalism collection that explores concepts of belonging, personal sovereignty, and the self. you can learn more about this collection, which includes a 40+ page zine, 6 handcrafted herbal products, and a copy of the spacious tarot deck, right here. this collection is extremely limited and expected to sell out quickly, so make sure you pre-order it today.
today is also the full moon in aries, the warrior’s moon. we celebrate our victories, yes — but we also acknowledge what is worth fighting for, recognize where we may be blazing a new trail alone rather than charging ahead with others by our side, and balance our desire for independence with our need for community. for more on this moon, check out my latest tarot spread, as well as these thoughtful offerings from jeanna kadlec, gaby herstik, and theresa reed.
as the sun prepares to leave the cardinal air of libra and enter the fixed water of scorpio, as we move from bright, curious clarity to deep, intense release, the tarot has a lot to say about shifts, transformations, and endings. and as a scorpio sun who absolutely loves this time of year, i can’t wait to share some new thoughts and reflections on this beautiful season with you.
deep breaths, in and out. perhaps open a window, let some of that crisp air flow through your space, or light a candle, enjoy the crackling wick and gentle warmth. make some tea, settle in, give yourself a few moments to be still. let’s begin.
the hanged one
in the fool’s journey, libra’s justice does not lead us straight to death and scorpio. instead, we first come to an archetype of stagnation and surrender, a time of looking at the world through different eyes, knowing that something is coming that we are powerless to stop. the hanged one is a period of stillness, of shifts, of recognizing a change on the horizon. it’s holding our breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, anticipating something that we may dread. it’s stagnation, and surrender.
it’s taking a beat to reflect and question, whether we like it or not.
justice brought necessary clarity, inviting us to examine and expand our perspectives, pushing us to consider different ways forward. we looked at the way that society functions, the ideals that are upheld, the flaws in the system. and by listening to all voices, by making space for all experiences, by prioritizing balance and harmony, we began to understand what we’re willing to fight for, and what doesn’t matter quite as much as we’d originally thought.
but clarity can bring confusion of its own. in being forced to look at things as they truly are, realizations come. the truth can pack a wallop, knock us to our knees, leave us gasping, dazed, confused. and in those moments, the stillness of the hanged one can be its own kind of gift.
the hanged one shows up in different ways, and sometimes, we choose it — deliberately slowing our steps, anticipating what’s coming, perhaps hoping that we can delay the inevitable. but other times we are stilled through no desire of our own, as obstacles appear, challenges manifest, roadblocks halt our progress. we try to push past limits but they only seem to grow larger, forcing us to consider new options, to scramble for solutions. and in these moments, sometimes all we can do is stay put, listen, and wait for the storm to pass.
we may know just how necessary this pause is. but that knowledge doesn’t always make the waiting easier — and in fact, sometimes when we can see a transformation coming, when we can anticipate the pain we know we are about to experience, it can make things feel even heavier.
the hanged one can feel like the slow climb of a rollercoaster, clicking and groaning as we come to the highest peak before hurtling down the other side. but it can also feel like choosing a challenging inverted yoga pose, twisting our body into a position that we know will cause release, yet struggling to stay calm, to focus. whether we are in control or not, whether we’ve chosen this stillness or have fought against it, the hanged one sets us up for something powerful, something permanent.
the hanged one offers the grace of stillness, the necessity of a pause. it lets us settle into ourselves, clarifying our questions and waiting for answers. it reminds us to breathe.
the necessity of death
when death comes, we release any notions of control. we are reminded that in most things, control is merely an illusion, that there are things we simply have no power over. we remember our place, our identity, the magic that is beyond our grasp. we are humbled.
but death is not here to punish us. it’s through the knowledge that death exists that we feel the magic in life. the universe demands balance, and we can perceive light because there is also shadow, only celebrate a beginning because we know that endings are also real. death can be relief, freedom, certainty. even when goodbyes are painful, they can also give us a sensation of calm, even joy, as something is alleviated. the pressure that has been building releases, the tension that we’ve been carrying can unclench.
we have our answer, whether we like it or not.
like the hanged one, death is not always a choice, though sometimes we do deliberately sever something: ending a relationship, walking away from an old dream or a new opportunity, releasing an expectation that has been limiting our potential. sometimes death feels like the eight of cups, a decision that allows us to choose ourselves.
but other times, death comes even when we fight to keep it at bay. other times, death is inevitable, unavoidable, and feels catastrophic.
whether we’ve chosen this particular ending or not, there can be real magic in releasing expectations of power and authority. there’s a reason that we hold leaders and presidents and CEOs and monarchs to the highest standards — because they are the masters of their domain, the heads of their household, the people who have claimed charge over massive systems. they make the rules, wield the power, assert dominance. and if they drop the ball, it’s all on them — there’s no one else to blame. with great power comes great responsibility.
there’s real suffering that comes with a lack of control, certainly. but there can also be a sense of ease in knowing what we can set down, in admitting defeat, in letting someone or something else take the reins. there can be comfort in acknowledging that we are powerless to stop something, to change something. what are you struggling against that you can walk away from? where are you trying to wield control where you actually have none? how could surrender bring unexpected relief?
every once in awhile, the same discourse pops up on spiritual social media accounts — namely, frustration with the idea of “releasing what no longer serves you” and the way that it positions important pieces of our lives through the lens of servitude, rather than responsibility, as my friend diana rose so eloquently explored on twitter. endings are not the same as failures, and we cannot simply walk away from everything hard, everything complicated, everything that challenges us. we cannot abandon pain, pretend that it doesn’t exist.
what we can do is recognize freedom when it appears. what we can do is celebrate the magic in the things that we have, for however long we have them — and when they slip away, what we can do is say goodbye with our whole chests. it does no one any good to pretend that something is less important than it is, and death often demands grief, a form of acknowledgement that feels genuine. death is not interested in pretense, in faking it.
death is another form of truth.
as we move into this season of scorpio, this time of transition, as we clear out the old to make space for the new, be honest with yourself about the endings you’re facing. what are you grieving? what are you releasing, by choice or by demand? how are you taking responsibility for your endings?
what would it mean to greet death with a knowing smile, instead of cowering in fear?
make sure you’re following me on instagram and twitter for updates on my scorpio season tarotscopes, and in the meantime, check out my latest podcast appearance, and consider supporting my work by joining my patreon. i’ve also got new tarot spreads for today’s full moon in aries and mercury direct in libra — feel free to tag me on social if you use these in your own work.
have a beautiful, powerful, revealing scorpio season, friends.
this post includes images that feature cards from the moonchild tarot. all photographs by meg jones wall.