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New Year's Resolutions Revolution
Topics: January 2026 Tarot, Perfectionism, Being, Alternatives to Resolutions, Animal Spirits as Guidance, Upcoming Events.
THREE CUPS CIRCLE—JANUARY 2026
This has been our Capricorn season so far. Is this anyone else, rn? Or just us?
Table of Contents
Happy New Year!Hello and Happy Calendar New Year and Full Moon in Cancer! Today is special, as the full moon is in the second decan of Cancer, ruled by the Three of Cups. (That’s this community!!) This month, we are discussing our thoughts on New Year’s resolutions (and trying out new formats.). While we believe the true New Year is in Spring, this is a time for going within to prep your Spring actions by seeing what may be blocking your resolutions from fully manifesting. Together, we wrote a few pieces to consider before getting too caught up in resolutions. Ves wrote a piece below about becoming and being. This one is for those who may lack focus or peter out on resolutions. Niko wrote a piece about what she has learned from our Shadow Work ritual. This one is for all our fellow perfectionists. Aster wrote a piece below about calling in an animal guide as opposed to doing traditional resolutions. Speaking of Shadow Work, we want to invite you to a free digital event to get to know us, learn about shadow work and create a community that can chat and interact about healing, becoming, and supporting. We’ve only really focused on in person events, and this year we want to start hosting them for our online followers too. We’re super excited we made it through the basics of the elements last year! Give those a read if you are new here. This year, we are going to discuss planetary energies! Knowing the planets is foundational to understanding the strings of magic, and the next step on your journey to esoteric mastery. Starting in February, month by month we will write about the planets to deepen your knowledge on tarot, astrology, and most importantly yourself. We hope you enjoy our thoughts on resolutions and hope you can walk away from this edition feeling like you know what is right for you in planning your year. Do you know your ruling planet? We’re looking to feature stories from fellow healers and astrologers on what the experience has been like to deepen our collective knowledge. Submit a request at [email protected] |
Opening Story
Resolving to Be
Written by Vesper
I have a confession: I’m a New Year’s resolution junkie.
As a former “gifted” kid with unmedicated ADHD, there’s nothing I love more than creating a multi-layered plan that promises to fix my entire life in one fell swoop—except maybe buying a new planner. And as you can probably predict, the resolutions and the planners are destined to share the same fate: a couple days of earnest adherence before being set down and never picked up again.
Of course, you don’t have to share my level of neurodivergence or my Sisyphean yearly hope cycle to commiserate. It’s safe to say all of us have made some kind of resolution or plan, felt great about our new commitment for a few days or weeks, and then inevitably reverted back to our old lifestyle at some point. It’s not a surprise, really. It’s human to strive, and it’s human to fail.
The Internet and self-help books are full of advice of all kinds about how to make plans and change habits and make it all stick. Certainly, some good lessons can be learned here. But I do think there’s something deeper underlying our shared difficulty with resolutions, something to do with the way we frame them in the first place.
The best resolutions are not something to do, they are something to be.
Think about it: When we make a resolution to, for example, work out three times a week, are we making that resolution because we want to work out three times a week? Or is it because we want to be more active, to feel healthier? The action itself is just a means to an end, a way to change something about the way we feel or what we are.
This may seem obvious, and of course you do eventually need to make plans for actionable steps. A resolution to simply “Be healthier” is an even faster path to failure. But if we’re starting with the action steps, with only a vague and unexamined relationship to our larger goal, we’re putting the cart before the horse. We don’t really understand our end-goal, and we can’t be sure the steps we’re taking will actually get us there. How easy to assume working out three times a week will make us feel the way we want to, simply because cultural osmosis has told us that’s what healthy people do.
But if we change our thinking on resolutions to focus on what we want to be, we can get clear on our actual goals first. And we can learn a lot more about ourselves along the way. Take our “be healthier” example. What does that actually mean? Do you want to be more active and in touch with your body? Do you want to be in a more mindful relationship with food? Do you want to be more balanced between obligations and self-care? Do you want to be more energetic and full of love for life?
You can see how each of these goals might require completely different action steps. And starting from the real root of the desired change will help you create a plan that will actually work for you and get you where you want to go. It will also help you respond with flexibility to the inevitable obstacles and life changes that arise and challenge the new habits you’re trying to build.
Ultimately, I believe it’s the only way to make lasting change. You might be stronger than most of us and manage to institute a new habit through sheer determination, but to really change who you are and how you live your life—to be different, not just do different—you will need to be clear about your root goal. Sure, changing our day-to-day habits over time changes who we are, but to successfully change what we do, we need to be clear and committed to the process of identity change.
We need to be able to see our way to becoming the kind of person we want to be, before we can actually make the changes that will slowly, every day, over time, transform us into that person.
(Credit to Plato who first documented this revelation, which we’re still trying to internalize two thousand years later.)
So our challenge to you this January, instead of or maybe alongside your traditional resolutions, spend some time with yourself getting clear on what kind of person you want to become. On what you want to feel like. Dream as big or as little as you feel comfortable. And try your hardest to tune out the voices telling you what you “should” want to be. Only you, your authentic inner voice, can tell you who and how you want to be.
And remember that becoming is a lifelong process. You won’t perfect yourself this year or any year. And what you want will change over your life. You are not a beautiful specimen preserved on a museum shelf. You are a living thing, changing and growing in imperfect spirals. But you are also blessed with the will to experiment and design a life that works for you.
Good luck with your “to be” resolutions, and if you need a little inspiration: We could all stand to be more patient with ourselves. Even if you don’t have it in you to make big changes this year, you can strive to be the kind of person who radically loves themselves exactly how they are for this season of their life.
Here’s to being who we want in 2026. (Even if that still means buying a planner you won’t use.)
January 2026 TarotKing of Pentacles. Keywords: Grounding, Stability, Success, Wealth, Health, Discipline, often associated with a person who exhibits these qualities (yourself, or another). Eight of Cups (Reversed). Keywords: A Return, Hesitancy, Fear of Moving On, Taking a Deeper Look, Discovering What is Under the Surface. Together. This pairing is suggesting that this month holds an opportunity for you to get back to a grounded and stable place. A return to stability? Sounds lovely doesn’t it? One of the things I admire about the King of Pentacles is how calm he stays emotionally, regardless of his surroundings. He represents discipline, peace, and the mental state of bounty. He is the kind of man that would call himself rich, even if he were homeless, hungry, and without all of his material possessions. While he does love his material surroundings, he doesn’t rely on them for self definition. The advice these cards are giving us at the start of the calendar year is to embody a version of yourself that is taking mental notes of the surroundings, but remaining emotionally unbothered by what you are seeing. Stay. Grounded. Finally, I want you to ask yourself a question: “Am I afraid of feeling whole and healed?” Sometimes, we become so addicted to the chase of healing, that we become lost. Take a deep cleansing breath and ask yourself: “Body, show me what it feels like to be whole and healthy?” Did you notice a shift? How does that feel? If you need more, scroll down and read about the Earth element. Journal Prompts:
| ![]() ![]() Did this reading resonate with you but you want to go deeper? Book a digital tarot reading with Aster to discover how you can embody the King of Pentacles to create more structure in your life: Do you know someone in your life that needs the messages of this edition? Use the referral program under this reading. |
Free Digital Gathering: |
Feature Story
Renouncing Perfection
Written by Nico
Earlier this year, in the darkening times (AKA mid-November), we consulted Hekate.
This was an inflection point in our journeys where we were feeling stuck, bogged down by old pains and traumas. We needed some honest, very Hekate guidance about what shadow aspects of ourselves were holding us back in the here-and-now, and how to address it all. Aster and Ves had complex answers about health and self-image. My message was short and unquestionably copyrighted: Just do it.
This didn’t pertain to any particular quest or goal that I was procrastinating on, or even a call to start long-distance running, but a general prescription that wouldn’t make sense if you didn’t know me. But I know me, so here we go.
If you asked me on a good day, I would say: I am a maker.
I love to make things. I’m a costumer, a writer, a healer, a lapidary enthusiast, a silversmith student, an artist, and a witch. I have more hobbies and more outlets than the average person, and perhaps due to my neurospicy inclinations, I’m always reaching for more. I have strange and splendid skills and shamelessly base my personality around them. I was diagnosed with “I could make that myself” disease early in life and I have never recovered.
If you asked me on an honest day, I would say: I love to think about making things.
I think I love imagining creation and creating more than actually doing it, if the “time clocked” bears out. That’s because creating requires one very important step: beginning.
The struggle of creation is not so much a question of having a “final product” or not (which is a gruesome simplification of the experience of art that prioritizes capitalism) but of having the courage to take something out of your mind and put it into your hands. To begin.
For me, that means overcoming everything stopping me from beginning. The doubt. The fear of failure. The possibility of incompletion. The terror of sucking at something, which surely reflects on my core quality as a person.
Just do it.
To someone who has hid behind a type-A personality, this is a terrifying call to begin without extensive planning or strategy or comparison or all the worries that inevitably nip at the heels of all that overthinking … which eventually, inescapably paralyze me. Just begin. How? It isn’t that simple, I want to say, but it is.
Hekate knows that what you need isn’t in the completion of a thing, but the doing. The action, and the muscles it builds. The living ritual and process of creation. Not one-way preaching, but shared communion. You shaping the art, and the art shaping you.
Sometimes we are afraid to begin because taking something out of the hermetically sealed, sterile crucible of our mind and into the real world has a cost. It won’t be perfect anymore.
Our cutthroat culture asks us: If it’s not perfect, is it even worth it anymore?
We can find any number of reasons not to start. The fabric we want isn’t available. We have laundry to do first. We need a particular pen or else it won’t turn out right. It’s raining. I don’t feel perfect, so I won’t make good work.
The potential of a thing is unsullied, but it isn’t real. The cost of creation—in vitro to in vivo—is risk and error. Imperfections. Chaos.
Anishinabe/Ojibwe indigenous artists embrace this fact wholeheartedly by adding intentional mistakes into beadwork, usually in the form of a single mismatched bead. This “spirit bead” is an acknowledgement that only the Creator is perfect. Similarly, Persian rugs include such humble intentional errors for the same reason.
Now, this is not an abdication of effort in either art or life. This is not a release from attempting perfection, or striving for beauty or excellence. It’s a simple acknowledgement that the concept of perfection belongs in the realm of the Gods, and should not be a concern of humans. Functionally, perfect is a lie.
My goal this year is to renounce perfection, specifically because I am one of those people who fantasizes something to death. I repeat, tweak, and hyper-polish an idea until I can’t handle it anymore. When I attempt to put it onto paper, or stone, or metal, or fabric … the dream itself is brittle and dry, like clay that’s been handled too much. It’s lost all life and flexibility, because I’ve exhausted and overrefined it in the safe confines of my mind instead of letting it out to breathe and take on a life of its own … and possibly, probably mess up.
It’s a lose-lose situation. The dopamine of novelty is gone, and your sense of anticipation or motivation is deadlocked with the surety that nothing can compare to the glittering, false image in your head. You will fail. You have already failed, actually, and that’s why it’s so hard to continue. Or start, if you’ve suffered enough of these impotent cycles.
Perfection is the enemy of creation.
This happens especially in writing. With my habit of scribbling, I will fill whole notebooks with stories and inevitably lose pieces, then angst over what was surely a perfect draft that can never be recreated.
Here’s what I've learned (and am forever struggling to implement in other areas of my life): write it again.
Your first draft wasn’t actually that good. It’s just merged with your idealization of the story, which lives like a song in your flesh and wants to get out so badly. You know more now, even if it doesn’t feel like it, and that will inform your writing. Write it again. From the middle, from the beginning, just start.
No one is saying that part is fun. It’s exhausting and discouraging to lose work, even before you start to compulsively idealize what can never be recovered. That draft is no longer “real”. It lives in your head. A 4D love letter to your best intentions, taunting you.
The one time I found my “dead sea scrolls” equivalent of a draft, I was aghast. It wasn’t good. The “half-assed” script I’d written just to fill that space was better by far. Had I released myself from expectations, knowing it would never measure up, and in the process created something better?
I’ll say it again: Perfection is the enemy of creation.
If something is real, it’s not perfect. If something is perfect, it’s not real.
To create, imperfectly, is human. We are ourselves a process. So why not begin?
These are the things I think about when designing my first tattoo sleeve. There are lots of opinions in the artist and bodymod community on the extent to which sleeves should even be “planned”, or should come together piecemeal, but my arm is completely bare and there has to be a first. You have to begin somewhere. And oh god, it’s so permanent, it’s expensive, what if you choose wrong, etc, etc.
Journey of 1,000 miles starts with a single step, and all that. But more often than not, the journey toward that “first step” has been long indeed.
It can be daunting before you realize that your arm may be a blank slate, but you aren’t.
I feel like I came out of the womb loving art, but when did my love for tattoos start? How long have I loved birds? What date was it when I discovered the motif of the bush warbler and plum blossoms, a sign for the break of winter and the promise of spring, which is a message that I've needed in my life many times and tried to bring to others as healing and hope?
I just need to make sure I love what I choose, and I will choose correctly. So, I will begin.
We must accept that our life is the result of all that came before, every lesson and failure and victory, and take strength, comfort and boldness from that. If we strive for authenticity, we can never stray too far from our path. We are always learning, always beginning, to such a degree that we can never really start over (discounting absolute amnesia). That’s a good thing.
During our weekly dystopian daydreams, where we talk about how to escape America, Ves asked me how I would feel starting a different career. Specifically, a career unrelated to pharmacy. I was taken aback.
“But my degree,” I said, thinking of the 7 years I spent racking up debt. “Wouldn’t it be a waste?”
It felt as though choosing another direction this “late in the game” would be like chucking my degree in the trash and forsaking everything I’d built. In the West, we are obsessed with both linear and all-or-nothing thinking, which is a dastardly combo that makes us very, very reluctant to begin again. Our world stigmatizes beginnings as a last resort, only attempted when our old life is in ashes. “Starting from scratch” is a bad thing, which is why so many protagonists end up there. While there may be different chapters, our journey is always one story.
(The same goes for picking up everything and moving to escape your problems. If 6 months in, you’re miserable again, I have some unsurprising news for you. Wherever you go, there you are, for better or worse.)
Our life stories are much like mother nature. Nothing truly goes to waste. The skills I learned in between the lines and over the years of managing a pharmacy, or even the kind of book learning that got me my degree in the first place, will always be with me. I can do whatever I choose with any of it.
This next year, when I find myself shying away from a beginning, I will remember these three things:
To err is human.
If it’s real, it’s not perfect. If it’s perfect, it’s not real.
You will always be beginning until you end, and I think the mark of a brilliant life might be having more beginnings than endings.
The beginning of my arm tattoos will be a small brown bird perched on a plum blossom branch dusted with snow—a promise that winter always ends, and something new will begin. What follows will be an adventure, which is another perk of beginnings.
The Essentials
THE ELEMENTS: SPIRITUAL BASICS
GROUND INTO EARTHA general overview of the Earth element, grounding, and abundance. | FLOW INTO WATERA general overview of the Water element, discernment, and flow. |
BURN INTO FIREA general overview of the Fire element, action, and ritual. | BREATHE INTO AIRA general overview of the Air element, freedom, and reason. |
Bonus Content
An Alternative to Resolution
Written by Aster
Perhaps you’re feeling disillusioned about New Year’s Resolutions. Perhaps, you know the story: you pick something, maintain the energy for a few weeks, then inevitably something happens and you get knocked on your ass and your inner critic says: “I told you so.” You grieve, feel shame, and then dissolve into guilt and say “fuck this,” or passively ignore it until you forget until January 1 of the next year.
Well, I have a potential solution for you. What if your yearly goals weren’t so specific, but open to your beautiful adaptable self?
If you’ve known me for a while, then you know I don’t really do resolutions. I don’t like the energy of being told what to do. Blame it on the Capricorn Rising.
I have however unlocked a cheat code for myself, something bigger than a goal, which acts as more of a mentor than a habit or constraint. Even when I thought I completely failed the assignment in 2025, I was taught deeper levels of knowing.
For my New Year’s activity, I summon an animal teacher.
Spirits surround us, and if we tap into their frequency, there is unlimited wisdom all around you. Just like humans possess a collective unconscious, so too do all animals, insects, plants, and minerals—and they are available and begging to teach humanity again.
This isn’t new. In fact, it’s one of the oldest practices available to us. On cave walls we dance with animals—learning, integrating, and even becoming them in some instances. Let me tell you a story about Spider and how I thought I failed her.
In early 2025 after I performed the ritual below, I had a dream of floating up into the atmosphere to meet a large Spider woman a couple days later. She told me that she chose me this year and that I would be her student. At first I was a little spooked, you don’t often see spiders the size of planets, but I started my study just like I had done with Crane in 2024, and Snake in 2023.
Every year, after I know my animal teacher, I research and read about them as if I were to write a book report. I learn about their biome, their preferred food, hunting style if appropriate, mating habits and rituals, predators, if any, and of course I read fables, stories, and mythologies from all cultures to see how others see them. Then I meditate with the Spirit on that knowledge for deeper truths.
I do this to learn if there are any behaviors I need to implement for myself, my business, and my community. Maybe learning how to forgive with grace like Crane, or move silently like the snake. How can I learn? What can I become? What growth awaits by learning from observation?
That is, until this year.
This year was heavy for me. In May, my boyfriend at the time and I realized we could no longer do long distance, and his plans of moving to D.C. changed. In June, losing my dog, my best friend, gutted me. For months I was a shell. Then, right after feeling semi-normal again, I lost the person I was closest to in my entire family, my aunt—the only other queer person in my family.
Grief prevents growth.
Time cannot rush grief.
I needed to mend.
So, I mended. I opened my channel when clients needed me, then continued healing myself. There wasn’t a lot of room for much else.
This December, I was feeling guilty for not researching or meditating with Spider as much as I have for the others. A couple of weeks ago, with shame, I entered meditation.
When I made connection, the first thing I said to her was, “I am so sorry for not seeing you more.”
And to my surprise, she responded, “I am not meant to be seen.”
I corrected myself, “Then, I am sorry for not prioritizing learning your lessons.”
She gave me a smile of sympathy.
I could feel her energy sensing mine as she searched my heart for truths I was ignoring. “Child, was it not my threads that mended your wounds? Was it not the web I co-created with you that sustained you while you healed? Did you not stay fed while you hid in the shadows?”
And she, of course was right.
I didn’t need to do much this year. Clients recommended me, and people returned for my services; the web that I have built kept me alive. This year was a year of passive receiving. Words on the wind carried me to new ears. My DMs were full of all of the readings and party requests I could handle while healing myself. Spiders don’t chase. They attract. And she showed me that I was attracting.
Hell, even the dedication to this newsletter kept me sustained—using the literal world wide web helped me to maintain cash flow, even when I didn’t have energy to go above and beyond and chase my dreams. I was integrating her lessons, even if I wasn’t chasing her lessons. In fact, by resting and writing, I WAS embodying the energy of the Orb Weaver—wait and receive, do not hunt or chase things yourself.
This final conversation with her completely changed my outlook on the situation. I did not fail. My year looked different because she is different than any other Spirit with which I have worked, and her lessons are more passive than most other animals.
I say all of this to say, even when you feel like you are failing, perhaps all you need is a reframe. Perhaps, by being more open, you can set yourself up to succeed no matter what. In every result, there are failures and successes, such is the balance. The difference between beating yourself up and celebrating a win is all in the mind.
So maybe you’re like me and instead of choosing a specific task, or habit, you’ll be inspired to give this a try. Through working with the Spirits, you grow in ways that “working out three times a week” cannot offer. You remain open to development of the soul and psyche where there is no failure, only absorption and integration.
On January 17, 2026 I have decided I want to share the ritual below with you in group. I can live stream if you don’t live in Old Town, or you can read below and do this on your own. I hope this year instead of creating a New Year’s resolution, you will choose to instead call in an animal guide for the year, or at the very least, try both. There are no rules.
How to Call in an Animal Spirit Ritual
It is recommended you read The Art of Ritual from the previous edition on the Fire element before completing.
What you will need:
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