The cards fell like autumn leaves this new moon/eclipse morning. Deliberate in their descent; each one carrying the weight of seasonal wisdom. We’ve reached another turning point, and now stand at the threshold between light and shadow. The second Virgo new moon of September has arrived cloaked in eclipse energy. As a Virgo moon girlie, I feel this energy intensely. In fact, I’ve been feeling it all week, like electricity ready to explode or a kettle coming to a boil. This new moon and partial solar eclipse are demanding we pay attention to what we’re cultivating and what we’re releasing.
Taking stock: 9 of pentacles
The harvest has begun, but it’s not the rushed gathering of a farmer racing against the weather. The figure in this card sits with intention, with the fruits of his labor laid out before him and a candle burning to create sacred space. He didn’t simply dump his harvest on bare ground. He created ceremony around the counting, the evaluating, the acknowledgment of what this season has yielded.
This is the methodical, detailed aspect Virgo energy: the understanding that how we approach our abundance matters as much as the abundance itself. In this eclipse portal, we’re called to ritualize our reflection, to create sacred space around the work we’ve completed. The growth you’ve undergone since the vernal (spring) equinox isn’t casual. It deserves ceremony, candles, the best cloth you own spread beneath your insights.
I often think of the 9 of pentacles as the independent woman card (because I’m a woman… so insert your own pronouns here). The self-sufficiency in this depiction isn’t isolation; it’s sovereignty. It’s knowing your worth because you’ve done the work to create something meaningful. NOT because others validate it. For those of us building creative enterprises outside traditional structures, this card whispers: Your alternative path is bearing fruit. Count your harvest with reverence.
I feel this in my spirit because it’s so easy to think my efforts are for naught when I think about the lack of engagement sometimes. As a writer, I also know what it’s like to feel like you’re writing into the void.
Community medicine: 10 of cups
The minute this card fell out, I heard: line up your joy and lift it up to the heavens and give thanks despite all that’s going on right now. Yes, I realize this is a run-on sentence, but I’m not in editor-mode right now — I’m in priestess-mode. This message strikes at the heart of spiritual resistance. If you know me, then you’ll know how I don’t get down with toxic positivity or naive optimism. That’s bullshit, and not what this is. This is the spiritual act of refusing to let external chaos corrupt your internal peace.
The 10 of cups represents emotional fulfillment and community harmony. But in the context of current social and political tensions, it becomes something more powerful: a declaration that joy itself is revolutionary. These systems are being designed to break our spirit. We can see it in real time. Therefore, choosing to celebrate our connections, to honor our creative communities, to lift up what’s life-giving — this is an act of defiance. As a community, we need to be more defiant by way of our pens.
For Black writers and creators especially, I feel this is speaking to the necessity of tending our joy as fiercely as we tend our craft. I saw a note where the person said subscribers are leaving because they’re afraid of being targeted for supporting authentic voices like ours. As harsh and unempathetic as this sounds, those people are choosing fear over fellowship, so let them go in love. We, on the other hand, don’t have that luxury. We have to continue showing up despite the fear. And by doing so, we become the 10 of cups. We are the proof that they cannot take our joy if we don’t let them.
Personal power: Strength
The tornado in this card isn’t something to fight. It’s something to endure with grace. Strength, positioned as the eleventh card in this deck, is saying we’ve moved through the initial harvest (9) and collective celebration (10) into the deeper work of personal resilience (11).
Remember the move Twister? And that scene with multiple tornadoes touching down simultaneously? That scene mirrors this current moment where it feels like chaos is erupting from every direction. Every day, we wake up to more bullshit, to a new version of the twilight zone. Political upheaval, economic uncertainty, creative industry changes, personal challenges, the list goes on. The traditional approach might be to hunker down, to try to shield ourselves from every possible impact. But when sitting with this card, a different strategy came to mind: develop the strength to narrow your focus and cut down what flies at you while letting the larger storm pass.
I think of it like spiritual aikido — using the storm’s own energy to redirect rather than resist. The storm is here, y’all. There’s no avoiding it. Find your center in the chaos rather than trying to control the uncontrollable. For writers and creators, this means protecting your creative energy while staying engaged with important conversations. It means maintaining your voice while navigating platforms and systems designed to suppress certain perspectives.
Staying grounded: Oracle wisdom
The oracle card bridges everything tarot has said with a reminder that consciousness is both personal and collective. A steady mind doesn’t mean an unchanging mind; it means a mind rooted in something deeper than the daily fluctuations of external circumstances.
This connects powerfully to the work happening in Black creative spaces right now. The teachers, guides and creators building study groups, workshops, creating safe spaces and communities focused on sharing knowledge and skills that certain institutions would prefer to keep restricted and/or erase altogether. I feel very honored and humbled to be part of this movement. The networks of mutual support being woven. These are expressions of collective consciousness in action.
Stepping into autumn
This eclipse energy amplifies this natural transition into the dark half of the year. Tomorrow’s equinox marks the moment when night begins to claim more hours than day, calling us into the inward journey that only darkness can provide. 2025 is a 9 year in numerology. That’s completion. Hermit energy. The first part of the year has felt nothing like the Hermit, but the energy of completion is definitely present. This is the beginning of the end. Let me repeat that: beginning. And with more dark days ahead, now is the time to reflect on how you can invite and embody Hermit energy into your life while still showing up to fight.
I don’t mean retreating from the world. Remember, we can’t afford to do that. What I mean is deepening into the work that can only happen when we turn away from external light (everything happening outside of us) and kindle the flame within. Seeds germinate underground. Insights crystallize in quiet. Strength builds through sustained practice rather than dramatic gestures.
The 9 of pentacles says you’ve successfully harvested what this growing season offered — regardless of how large or small your harvest is. The 10 of cups calls you to share that abundance with your community as we all prepare for winter’s teachings. Strength reminds you the coming dark months will require different kinds of resilience — not blazing action, but persistent endurance.
What this means going forward
The eclipse portal will remain open for the next two weeks, continuing to reveal what this moment has seeded. As you acknowledge the equinox tomorrow, carry these themes forward:
Ritualize your reflections (9 of pentacles): Create sacred space around your learning and growth as the contemplative season begins.
Choose joy as resistance (10 of cups): Celebrate your creative community and refuse to let external chaos dim your light, especially as darker days approach.
Develop tornado strength (Strength): Build the resilience to protect what matters while allowing larger storms to pass through your life.
Stay connected to collective wisdom (Oracle): Remember your individual practice serves something larger than yourself, particularly important during the isolating winter months.
The dark half of the year isn’t about going into hiding. It’s about going deeper. As the earth turns inward, let this new moon/eclipse reading guide you toward the profound work that only happens in darkness.
The harvest is real. The joy is radical. The strength is available. The connection is sacred.
May you move through this portal with the grace of someone who knows their worth and the wisdom of someone who understands their place in the larger story.
With love,
Lakeisha | High Priestess of The Story Temple
I'm also a Virgo moon, so I feel you about this eclipse season hitting hard
Here, here 👌🏼👏🏼 from this Ten of Cups, Virgo whose Hermit lamp is shining bright through the portal with you.