đ´ Bear Bones Tarot: Sunday, April 19, 2026
The Empress â She Already Has Everything She Needs
On abundance that doesnât have to be earned, light that radiates from within, and the radical act of tending what you love.
đď¸ Part 1: For the Writers
The Empress doesnât hustle.
I need you to sit with that for a moment, because it runs completely counter to everything the creative industry will tell you about building something that lasts.
She doesnât hustle. She doesnât grind. She doesnât optimize her morning routine or batch her content or track her metrics with white-knuckled anxiety. She sits in her carved throne, surrounded by ripe fruit tumbling down stone steps, butterflies drifting in on the warm air, the whole ocean gleaming behind her like it arranged itself specifically for her comfort â and she holds a basket of glowing, golden, impossibly alive flowers against her chest like they are the most precious thing in the world.
Because to her, they are.
In the Bear Bones Tarot, our Empress is golden â literally luminous, light radiating from her head like a crown she was born wearing rather than one she earned. Her robes are deep purple and magenta, rich and flowing, embroidered at the hem with delicate flowers. She looks upward â not scanning the horizon for threats, not checking over her shoulder, not calculating what comes next.
Just up. Open. Certain.
That upward gaze is the thing that gets me every time I sit with this card.
She already knows itâs going to be okay.
Here is what The Empress understands about the creative life that takes most of us decades to learn:
Abundance is not the reward for suffering through scarcity. It is the natural result of tending what you love.
We are taught â writers & creatives especially â that the work has to be hard to be worth something. That ease is suspect. That if weâre not grinding, weâre falling behind. That rest is something you earn after productivity, not something you practice as part of the creative process.
The Empress finds this genuinely baffling.
Look at what surrounds her. Oranges and apples in abundance, rolling freely down the steps â not hoarded, not rationed, not earned through deprivation. Just there, because that is what happens when you tend a garden with love rather than anxiety. The flowers in her basket glow golden because she holds them with care. The butterflies come because she has created a place worth coming to.
She is not producing. She is generating.
Thereâs a difference that matters enormously for writers.
Producing is what we do when weâre running on empty and we need to hit a number. Word counts. Publishing schedules. Launch calendars that eat us alive. Producing can be done through sheer will and self-punishment, and most of us have done exactly that until our bodies or our creative wells finally said enough.
Generating is what happens when we write from a full place. When we tend the garden first â the reading, the wandering, the slow mornings, the conversations with people we adore, the meals made with care, the rest that is genuinely restoring rather than just collapse. Generating looks slower from the outside. It feels different on the inside. The words that come from that place carry something that grinding cannot manufacture.
The Empress is a generator.
So, what does she want from you today?
She wants you to notice what in your creative life youâve been treating like a burden rather than a garden.
The project youâre pushing through instead of tending. The writing practice that has become a performance of productivity rather than a genuine creative act. The part of your author life that used to feel like joy and has quietly started feeling like obligation.
She wants you to pick that thing up â gently, the way she holds those glowing flowers â and ask:
What does this need from me right now that isnât more effort?
Sometimes the answer is rest. Sometimes itâs play. Sometimes itâs permission to do it badly for a while so the joy can find its way back. Sometimes itâs just the decision to stop treating your creative work like a problem to be solved and start treating it like a living thing that responds to loving attention.
Wherever you focus your loving attention, there will be healthy growth.
Thatâs not a nice sentiment. Thatâs a foregone conclusion.
đż Todayâs Practical Magick
Pick one small thing in your creative life â one project, one practice, one piece of the dream â and tend it today with loving attention instead of anxious effort.
Not a sprint. Not an optimization. Just one slow, conscious, generous act of care toward the thing youâre growing.
Water it. Talk to it. Sit beside it for a few quiet minutes.
Watch what happens when you treat your creative work like a garden rather than a quota. đ¸đž
đ The personal pull is below â for paid subscribers
This is where The Mojo Mama Bear gets âbearâ bones honest about what the card stirred up this morning and what it looks like in a real, unglamorous, unsexy day in the life of a working author.
