WHEEL of FORTUNE: A Time to Every Purpose.
Tarot magic for closing Sagittarius season and the calendar year.
Welcome to the spiraling close of Sagittarius season as well as the calendar year. We’re taking the lessons of our Hermit year (2025) of self-defined spiritual searching and moving into new territory—2026. Numerologically, that means we’re rolling into WHEEL of FORTUNE times. Aligned with Big-daddy Jupiter, (Sag’s planetary ruler), this Tarot archetype represents a massive, divine force that can hold all of time, matter, and movement in its swirling cosmic grasp.
I’ve been stewing (uncomfortably) in this energy for weeks—sitting with the invitations of the WHEEL as I contemplate what it means to winter, to trust divine timing, and to discover an appreciation for the smallness of my life.
I wonder if—for you too—the distractions of family gathering and gift giving and colored light displays don’t quite lift the existential weight that comes with knowing that the WHEEL has spun us to this threshold yet again.
Another year will be put to rest.
As ALL will be put to rest one day. For each of us. In time.
I look at the WHEEL of FORTUNE card as designed by Pamela Coleman Smith and see a representation of TIME itself: the seasonal shifting of the material world as effected by cosmic energies, perhaps as written in the STARS. Each of the 4 astrological figures at the card’s corners reads from a separate book of sacred knowledge—perhaps reciting the scientific laws that govern our universe. Or the decrees of other godly forces, the FATES and their machinations.
Much remains a mystery. Multi-faceted figures: the Snake, the Devil, the Sphinx, spiral together with mystic letters and arcane runes, swirling out into vast appendages of mystic meaning. A whirling galaxy of symbology. The WHEEL gives us too much to hold in the mind at once—it implodes with spiritual resonance.
In fact, I’d contend that to contemplate the WHEEL’s numinous WHOLENESS is an act of Saggitarian ambition—a fire-hearted search for the BELIEF-SYSTEM expansive enough to hold all of THIS. The Everything, Everywhere, All-at-Once of this: strange, fucked up, magnificent world.
I wish I had it. That system. That Book to spell out all the TRUTHS that seem to be whispering through the cycles of seasons, singing through the magic of synchronicity, alighting in consciousness through dreams.
I would copy it all down here for you and we could read it over Christmas Dinner and enter the new year with Julian of Norwich’s certainty that All Shall Be Well.
But I have no such system or text. What comes to mind instead is a bedtime story I used to read to my children. Will you claim a moment from this busy season to hear it?
“The Princesses and the Kingshuk Tree.”
Four princesses lived in a grand palace surrounded by rich, verdant gardens, which they loved to explore. One day they heard tell of a magical tree, the Kingshuk, that surpassed all the others with its beauty.
The princesses, desperate to see it, for they were full of curiosity for all the wonders of nature in the garden, asked the Gardener if he would take them to see the Kingshuk. But the tree was so sacred, the Gardener explained, that a person could only view it once a year—and only on their birthday. Otherwise the tree remained invisible.
The princesses were willing to be patient.
They waited until the Spring when the eldest princes had her birthday, then sent her with the Gardener to the place where the Kingshuk grew, far on the edge of the royal forest. There, the eldest princess saw a magnificent towering form with branches wide and bursting with tender leaves, still unfurling into a green so bright that the tree dazzled the princess’s eyes. The sight of it filled her with such optimism and hope for the future that she skipped back to the palace. But when she returned to her sisters, she found she could not tell what she had seen. “It is too beautiful to describe,” she said. “You must see it for yourselves.”
In summer, the second eldest sister celebrated her birthday at the palace, then went to the Gardener before her party had ended and asked to be led to the Kingshuk tree. At the edge of the royal forest, they found it: a mammoth tree covered in a wild explosion of bright blossoms, gleaming like silken starbursts in the sun. The princess gazed at the tree in complete and utter happiness, but—back at the palace—she would not tell her sisters what she had seen.
The heat of the summer eventually cooled and the season turned to autumn when the third eldest had her birthday. She could not wait to visit the Kingshuk and went to the edge of the forest early in the morning just as the sun was rising. There the tree glowed in the slanted rays of sunrise with all the hues of a burning fire. Red, orange, yellow, and flashes of purple, too. Drawing closer, the princess saw that the tree bore fruits, nestled like jewels among the leaves. The sight of them filled the princess with a sense of contentment and satisfaction, as if after a long meal or a very pleasant dream. She wanted so much to share the experience with her sisters, but she felt sorry for the youngest, who was still waiting for her winter birthday to come around. And so the third Princess kept quiet and calm when she returned to the palace.
Finally, winter arrived. And the youngest princess’s birthday along with it. She found that she was a bit afraid to see the tree that she had waited so long visit. What if it didn’t meet her expectations? What if something went wrong, and, unlike her sisters, she wasn’t able to see it at all? By the evening she had garnered her courage. She walked slowly and reverently toward the place where the Kingshuk grew while the sky darkened and the moon rose high above the snowy forest. She saw the Kingshuk from afar, the wide arbor glinting as if covered with diamonds of frost and snow. It looked as though it were covered in threads of silver that shimmered in the cool air. It ignited a sense of peace and magic in the heart of the youngest princess. She drew closer, laying her hand on the rough bark and wept with gratitude and relief. She had trouble leaving the tree behind, but eventually she returned to the palace where her sisters were waiting up for her, their eyes bright with anticipation.
As they had all seen the tree, they felt they could try and describe it to each other in more detail now. Only—their stories did not match up. The wide variation in their tellings—one tree being green, another red, fruiting or silver—made each princess suspect that her sisters had seen a different tree; while remaining certain that the tree she herself saw was the only magical Kingshuk in the forest. They woke the gardener to let him settle their dispute. But he only laughed, explaining that even magical trees change their appearance with the seasons. “You would have to visit the tree in all seasons to truly appreciate it. But, because of its magic, each of us only ever sees it in part.”
When I pull the WHEEL of FORTUNE, I imagine all of us living in the same vast, verdant, ever-changing garden. Like the sisters, we can only ever see a small piece of what lends this place its magic and mystery. But each of our singular interpretations are equally valid, meaningful and significant. Only by gathering our stories together do we grant each other the opportunity to fully appreciate this place and its wonders.
A Time that is Timeless.
It seems to me that one of the most potent invitations of the WHEEL is to live your piece of its spinning body as fully as possible, knowing that however lonely or singular you may feel—you are connected to all else that rotates in this radiant, burning galaxy with you. Where the threads of my story leave off, other stories begin and on and on and on.
The WHEEL reminds us that we can surrender larger movements of the wheel to the Cosmic Mover and take care of what lies right here in front of us now. What is here for me to love? What is here for me to carry?
We take care and then we can turn to our neighbors listening to them with an ear for the mystery that underpins all our motivations, loves and longings. Letting go of the urge to orchestrate it all, we share our burdens as one.
Because in the WHEEL we never know what is coming, but we can give purpose to our roles here by sharing our experiences with one another. Spinning stories. Spinning webs of wonder. Spinning tapestries of beauty and meaning as only our magical human minds can do.
As much as the WHEEL represents time—it invites us to consider what it means to be timeless. To be eternal. To be a piece of the eternal inside of our solitary seasons.
I hope this season brings you boughs of inspiration, joy, satisfaction and peace. May it come with consistent, unavoidable reminders of this TRUTH: that somewhere, right now, in this vast and verdant garden, a tree is sprouting. Green. Golden. Gleaming in the sun.
For all of us. For you.
Readings for the Year Ahead:
Are you interested in an hour-long zoom-hosted reading with me? From now until January 1st, every $10 donation you make to the Central Texas Food Bank will enter your name into a raffle to win a Year-Ahead Reading with me. You can make your donation @ Central Texas Food Bank and send me an email with your donation confirmation to confirm your entry at melissa@aracanacraft.com.
Happy Holidays! And thank you for being a part of this magical practice with me.