Sometimes when I draw the cards, I do so without a layout in mind. I just pull the cards out and see what the story says. In this case, with these cards, it’s the story of my life as a writer: things began badly many years ago, and the “badness” was compounded by sorrow and regret in the decades since. But then I began to dig into the mysteries, into the shadow spaces that informed how I was seeing my own gifts. And now I am reminded that I can draw strength and wisdom from those lessons, that hope and my gifts are not dead but transformed–the drooping, dying red rose has been purified by experience into the white rose of dawn and possibility. I am not reborn, but remade.
(deck: The Wild Unknown Tarot)