🎴 Bear Bones Tarot: Wednesday, April 15, 2026
Ten of Wands — She's Still Walking
On carrying more than your share — and learning to set some of it down before you fall down.
🖊️ Part 1: For the Writers
She’s in her purple-magenta robes — the same ones she always wears, the ones that have seen her through every card in this deck, every season of this story. And she is full. Arms wrapped around ten wands, the bundle so wide she can barely get a grip on all of them, the tops still sprouting green leaves, still reaching toward the first stars of evening like they haven’t gotten the memo that this is a lot to be carrying right now.
The sky behind her is burning. Sunset gold bleeding into twilight. Mountains in the distance. A valley glowing below. She can see where she’s going.
She hasn’t stopped… but her face.
That is not a bear who is fine. That is a bear who has decided she is going to be fine, which is a different thing entirely, and anyone who has ever had a deadline, a creative block, a season of too much, a morning where the body said maybe not today and the to-do list said absolutely today — you know that face. You have made that face. Possibly this morning.
The Ten of Wands is the card of the person who has been carrying too much for too long.
Not because they’re weak.
Because they’re capable — and somewhere along the way, capable became synonymous with responsible for everything.
Writers are dangerously good at this.
We carry the current project and the next project and the one we abandoned three years ago that still whispers. We carry the unpublished drafts and the unwritten ideas and the marketing we haven’t done and the newsletter we’re behind on and the readers we feel we’re letting down. We carry the day job and the creative life and the gap between who we are right now and who we’re trying to become.
We carry it all. Arms full. Wands splaying. Still walking.
And we are so proud of still walking that we forget to ask whether we actually need to carry all of this at once.
Here is what nobody tells you about the Ten of Wands:
Some of those wands were never yours to pick up.
Some of them were handed to you by someone else’s expectations. Some you picked up out of guilt, or fear, or that deep-seated belief that if you didn’t carry it, it wouldn’t get carried. Some of them are genuinely yours — your real work, your real responsibilities, your real creative fire — and some of them are just... things you’ve been holding so long you forgot you had a choice about it.
The Ten of Wands doesn’t ask you to drop everything. It asks you to look down at your arms and take honest inventory.
Which of these wands are mine to carry? Which ones could be set down, delegated, delayed, or released without the world ending? What am I gripping out of habit rather than necessity?
Because here’s the other thing about this card that our bear in her magenta robes already knows, even if her expression doesn’t show it yet:
The destination is visible. The valley is right there, glowing gold in the distance. The first stars are out. She is almost at the door.
The load is heavy. But the walk is nearly done.
And sometimes the most radical, sovereign, genuinely powerful thing you can do is not push harder — it’s to look at what’s in your arms and say: I’m going to set a few of these down before I get there, because I want to walk through that door upright.
Not collapsed. Not depleted. Upright.
🌿 Where in your creative life are you carrying wands that were never yours to pick up?
🌿 What’s one thing you could set down today — guilt-free — and return to when you have more capacity?
🌿 What would it feel like to arrive at the destination still having something left in the tank?
🌿 Today’s Practical Magick
Before you open your project, your draft, your inbox — before you pick up the first wand of the day — try this:
Write down everything you’re currently carrying. Every project, every task, every obligation, every creative dream on the backburner. Get it all out of your arms and onto paper.
Then draw a line down the middle of the page.
Left side: Mine to carry today. Right side: Setting this down.
The right side column is not a failure list. It’s a release list. And on a Waning Crescent moon — when the whole sky is conspiring to help you clear and release before the new cycle begins — it might be the most powerful writing you do all day.
That’s the spell. 📝🐾
🔒 The personal pull is below — for paid subscribers.
This is where The Mojo Mama Bear gets bear-bones honest about what this card stirred up this morning, and what it looks like to live this in a real, unglamorous, beautiful Wednesday in the life of a working author.
