How to Behave During the Apocalypse

Just in time for the holidays.

This week was… a week. One of those unforeseen weeks where my attention was dominated by matters demanding urgency and care. And so, here I find myself on a Sunday evening, not only without a finished essay (a not totally uncommon occurrence, if I’m being honest) but without the bandwidth to execute one.

Rather than skip or postpone or go straight to this week’s card, I wanted to take this opportunity to interrupt our regular programming and acknowledge something I’ve heard from quite a few people this week — that the holidays feel especially hard.

Holidays can be tricky for so many of us, for so many reasons. Hell, any random non-occasion can be tricky. Tuesdays and mornings and midnights. Tests and trips and endless to-do lists. Anything that reminds us of the passage of time.

And then there is the news cycle.

Last week I stumbled across this quote, from the last speech prolific advice-giver Kurt Vonnegut penned, delivered posthumously by his son. It’s been running through my mind ever since.

“And how should we behave during this Apocalypse? We should be unusually kind to one another, certainly. But we should also stop being so serious. Jokes help a lot. And get a dog, if you don’t already have one... I thank you for your attention and I’m outta here.”

Vonnegut and his dog, Pumpkin. (While searching for the dog’s name, I stumbled across this piece about famous authors and their beloved pets, which I very much enjoyed.)

Unusual kindness. I’m making this my mantra for the weeks ahead — unusual kindness toward others, but just as important, unusual kindness toward ourselves.

For anyone who may be feeling lonely or triggered or frightened or angry, disappointed by current circumstances or nostalgic for another time, I see you. And while there are no quick solves, please know that you are (so very) not alone in your feelings.

And now on to the card, which — I swear I don’t plan it this way — has something to say about this very topic.

Card of the Week

Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.

Featuring Pagan Otherworlds Tarot by Uusi.

It’s officially the holiday season, that time of year when materialism kicks into high gear and social media turns everything up a notch.

Out come the photos of glistening trees and holiday hearths (much more festive than a fireplace). The children in matching attire. The exotic vacations and tables full of plated dishes. The photo booth strips from parties you didn’t attend and long missives from couples who are so grateful to have found such epic love. All of it is underscored by Frank Sinatra or Nat King Cole.

Now, I don’t know what your personal situation is. And I certainly don’t begrudge anyone epic love or an evergreen. But in this season of Hallmark movies, the Two of Cups encourages us to look beyond “love” as it’s been marketed to us and create a new definition for ourselves.

Traditionally, the Two of Cups shows two people facing one another, holding a pair of golden goblets. (Anyone who’s watched Love is Blind has to wonder if perhaps there’s a tarot fan on staff.) I’ve heard it referred to as “the soul mate card,” heralding the beginning of a romantic relationship or a particularly amorous period.

Maybe it’s the part where I spent the majority of my adult life thus far on my own, but when I hear this interpretation, I want to light things on fire. And not in a festive hearth.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with romantic love. There’s nothing wrong with committed partnerships. There’s nothing wrong with being excited if you find yourself at the beginning of one. It’s just that this view is so narrow.

The Two of Cups would like to remind us that a “soul mate” can mean anyone who comes into our lives, whether it’s to shake things up, to teach us a lesson, or to point the way to self-knowledge. They can take the form of friends and flings and colleagues. They can be human or animal. They may inspire and uplift us, or they may challenge and disappoint us. Sometimes all on the same day.

Many are the times I’ve been cornered by a well-meaning person inquiring after some aspect of my existence. (Typically a relative, on a holiday.) Was I seeing anyone special? Why not? Why didn’t I own a home? Or have a job that made any sense to them? How was I doing, really? Was I okay?

The Two of Cups knows that caring comes in many forms, not all of them welcome or productive. But sometimes, that can work in our favor.

Support comes in many shapes, wearing many different disguises. It appears in kindred spirits. In books and movies and TV shows. In virtual support groups. In people we’ve met and those we haven’t.

It shows up in the streets and on the World Cup field.

Sometimes it holds your hand, and sometimes it speaks through an earbud.

All of it is valid.

Indeed, the Two of Cups appreciates a new beginning — one where we walk in alignment with our own core values, whatever they may be.

When it comes to finding love, in all its myriad forms, the Two of Cups says don’t just seek what you think you’re supposed to look for — a soulmate, a nuclear family, a quirky, close-knit friend group like something out of a sitcom. Those things are beautiful, but barring their arrival, this card wants you to know you can expand your search. Look for the things that make your heart come alive. The people who make you feel safe and the ones who make you feel seen. The words that help you breathe just a little bit easier. When you find them, hold on.

And while you’re out there, searching? Please don’t discount yourself.

One of the things that is most underrated — about the Two of Cups, but also about human relationships — is respect. Respect wins the day over long-stemmed roses. Respect is the currency of a good friend or partner or boss. Or society.

And self-respect is an unusually reliable compass. To the people, places, and situations that help reveal your true north.

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