When the Words Won’t Flow: A Reflection on Writing and Tarot
A Moment of Frustration
Have you every had a time where words just don’t flow for you? Lately, I’ve found myself in an uncomfortable place with my writing. Specifically, I’m knee-deep in the editing phase of my mediumship development guidebook, and it feels as though every change I need to make is a mountain rather than a molehill. I am reminded that I have been here before with my first book.
What began as excitement to refine and clarify my message has turned into frustration and resistance. I can see the potential in the work, yet I keep stumbling over my own edits. Something about this process feels unfamiliar and deeply uncomfortable, as though I’m being asked to write in a way that’s different from my natural flow.
As a Medium first, my work flows from deep intuitive connection. I use Tarot alongside my mediumship, not as my main practice, but as a grounding, objective tool. Tarot gives me a fresh perspective, especially when emotions risk clouding my clarity.
Turning to the Cards for Clarity
There comes a moment in every creative journey when you feel like you’re treading water — when the passion and drive that once pushed you forward start to feel like weight instead. That’s where I found myself with the editing of my mediumship development guidebook. I was tangled in the process, overwhelmed by the constant revisions, but couldn’t quite put my finger on why it felt so draining. I knew I had to keep going, but there was a sense of resistance in my bones.
As a Medium, I’m deeply connected to my intuition, but this time, I felt like something was clouding it. I knew that this was not just a struggle with the work itself but something deeper — something internal that needed uncovering. I needed perspective, something more structured than my usual intuition. And so, I turned to the Tarot.
I don’t always turn to Tarot when I’m feeling stuck. It’s something I’ve explored but never fully depended on, as my mediumship remains my primary guide. Yet in this moment, I craved a tool to cut through the emotions and reveal the truths I was avoiding. Tarot helps me step back and view my situation with clarity and a fresh perspective.
The cards I pulled didn’t just offer insight into my editing block. They laid bare the underlying issues I hadn’t even fully acknowledged yet: the expectations I’d placed on myself, the emotional weight I was carrying, and the imbalance between my work and my well-being. It was as though the cards were showing me a mirror I wasn’t ready to look into, but needed to see.
What the Cards Revealed
I drew five cards: the Ten of Pentacles reversed, Ten of Wands, Temperance reversed, King of Cups reversed, and Five of Swords. I don’t relate to the spread format, and over the years, 5 cards makes sense to me. The order of the cards, builds the story per-say. As I laid them out, I could see a story unfolding rather than isolated messages.
The Ten of Pentacles reversed spoke to legacy and expectations. This isn’t just another book to me — it carries the weight of my experience, my teachings, and the desire to leave something meaningful for others. That realization alone felt heavy, as if I’d placed the responsibility of perfection on my shoulders.
Next came the Ten of Wands. This card felt deeply personal. It captured the burden I’ve been carrying, the sense of overwhelm from trying to manage everything at once. Writing, editing, teaching, and living my daily life — it all piled up, leaving me feeling stretched too thin.
Temperance reversed highlighted my internal imbalance. I’ve been so focused on getting this book “right” that I’ve neglected the flow and harmony that usually guide my work. This card reminded me that my best writing comes from balance, not from forcing the process.
The King of Cups reversed reflected my emotional struggle. I’ve been keeping my feelings bottled up, trying to push through without acknowledging the frustration and doubt simmering beneath the surface. This card encouraged me to honor those emotions rather than suppress them.
Finally, the Five of Swords pointed to an internal conflict. I realized I’ve been fighting with myself, caught between my desire for perfection and the reality of creative vulnerability. This battle has been draining my energy and clouding my perspective.
Finding the Flow Again
Seeing these cards together painted a clear story for me. In terms of readings, it is not often that I get one for each suit and one Major. So this was outright telling me about balance. That I have the balance, that I needed to trust it. My struggle goes beyond editing sentences. It carries the weight of expectation, heavy responsibility, and the tug-of-war between control and flow. These cards didn’t speak alone; they formed a chorus. They illuminated my emotional landscape and offered a guiding light forward.
They reminded me that this discomfort is part of the creative process. Growth often feels uneasy, especially when we’re stretching beyond our familiar patterns. The cards urged me to release the need for perfection, to honor my emotions, and to seek balance in my approach.
I share this reflection not just as a personal revelation, but as a gentle reminder for anyone else who might be feeling stuck in their creative work. Whether you’re a writer, an artist, or simply someone trying to bring a dream to life, know that resistance is not a sign of failure — it’s a sign of growth.
Sometimes, we just need a different lens to see it.
