The Passion Project
a 12-week experiment in loosening, listening, and living with intention
It’s come to my attention that it’s time to change my life.
Lately, I’ve been haunted by the opening lines of Dante’s Inferno:
“Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost.”
Forgiving the part where Dante was but thirty-five (things looked a little different c.1300), I found myself nodding in recognition at the plight of a midlife Italian adrift in a burning world. But rather than descend into the circles of hell — a cursory glance at my phone is enough, thanks — I’d prefer to make my way out of the forest and into the light.
For longer than I care to admit, life feels like treading water — going from task to task, doing what it takes to stay afloat, but not heading in any direction. I could say that I’m struggling with energy, or discipline, or finances, or focus, or inspiration, and technically it would be true. But I recognize that much of it is by choice, consciously or otherwise; time and again, the culprit is me getting in my own way.
I suspect it’s all a symptom of a larger problem: I have lost my way because I have lost my why. But life is precious and finite, and it’s time to find it.
Over the next twelve weeks — from now through the summer solstice — I’ll be attempting just that. Spring always feels like my version of New Year’s, partially owing to an April birthday and the reflection prompted by a new age, as well as the air of rebirth that marks the season. It’s easier to embrace change in the presence of budding and blooming. When I pictured an experiment to live with greater intention, a month seemed too brief, a year too daunting. But I’m hopeful one season is just right. (After all, that’s essentially the length of The Artist’s Way.) Can you change your life in 84 days? I guess we’ll see.
For the last few years, part of my work involves reading tarot for individuals, a joy and privilege I couldn’t have predicted. Across hundreds of readings with people of all ages and backgrounds, who live all over the world, I am consistently amazed at how we all struggle with variations on the same themes. Grief. Change. Living according to one’s core values. Navigating a crossroads. And the universal plight we call stuck-ness.
While my story may be unique to me, I recognize that the areas where I struggle are common. When I concepted what this challenge might look like, I first envisioned it unfolding like one of my running plans: across spreadsheets and journal entries seen only by me. But then I had a week of readings where people’s questions and topics so closely mirrored what I planned to cover, and it became clear: this experiment wants to be lived out loud.
I’ve been in therapy for years, am a certified yoga and meditation teacher, and have read seemingly every self-transformation book and spiritual text in existence. I expect I will never stop digging, studying, or seeking. But there comes a time for action — putting wisdom to the test and reporting back with the findings.
Each week will focus on a theme — auditing limiting beliefs, developing intuition, inviting perspective, stepping outside, courting joy, living in the present, confronting the illusion of time, accepting the gift of “good enough,” valuing effort over outcome, being an advocate for your vision, uncovering the why behind the want — subject to change based on how the season progresses. As always, I am open to whatever magic reveals itself along the path.
As the purpose of this exercise is to step out of my own way and live in greater alignment, I’ll be approaching it not from a place of pushing or forcing, but by loosening my grasp and seeing what transpires. All of which is to say, I have lots of ideas but zero expectations. And I promise to share it all.
I’m calling it The Passion Project, partially because I hope to reignite/rediscover my passion for various aspects of living, but also because it’s literally a passion project — a self-directed endeavor born from interest rather than obligation — living inside another passion project, this newsletter. (Given this last sentence, you’d think I’d be brimming over with passion, but I digress.)
In some ways, I expect it will feel like business as usual here, in that newsletters will feature personal writing, and I’ll still weave cards, book recs, found wisdom and observations throughout. But in one key aspect, I expect it will be different. Typically, I write essays from a considered distance, once I’ve processed and know exactly how I feel about them. Over the course of this experiment, I’ll be sharing stories and observations as they happen. For this reason, the Passion Project will live behind the paywall, where I can be more vulnerable and unpolished for an intimate, engaged audience.
I’m ready to embrace a season with intention, and excited for whatever lies ahead.
Let’s make some magic.
As I was contemplating this project and how it might take form, I decided to practice a bit of bibliomancy — opening a book to a random spot to see what guidance it might provide. I landed on a page containing this work by Paul Klee, A Guardian Angel Serves a Small Breakfast.
I was equal parts moved and amused, and love the idea that the gifts and blessings in our lives can be small (and nutritive). Sharing it here in the event you, too, could benefit from its presence. May it infuse your day with whimsy and wonder.
Two fun things before we get to this week’s card…
Best Babysitters Ever, my first middle grade novel, got a shout-out in last week’s New York Times “What Book Should You Read Next?” column! It was a lovely surprise and truly made my week. If you have any Baby-Sitters Club-loving children in your life, maybe take their advice and buy them a copy! 😉
Magic: The (Wine) Gathering took place on Wednesday, March 18th and was everything I hoped. It was so wonderful to meet some of you in person, give IRL tarot readings, and raise money for a cause that is near and dear to so many of us. Stefie Kan-Andrews wrote a beautiful recap over on The Decanterbury Tales, including event photos, tasting notes, and my commentary on running the NYC Marathon for Fred’s Team (which inspired the evening’s wine selections). I’d love if you gave it a read.
In just one month, this community helped raise nearly $4,000 for cancer research via both the event and virtual donations. Thank you so much for your generosity, and for helping to make a difference. ❤️
As always, today’s reading is meant in a reflective (rather than predictive) sense. Ponder it, journal about it, use it however you wish. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.
Aces symbolize new beginnings — whether seasons, projects, patterns, experiences, or whatever comes to mind.
I’m particularly enamored with the Aces in the iconic Smith/Waite deck, as all of them depict a massive hand emerging from a cloud. Does the hand symbolize divine intervention? The moment inspiration strikes? A surprise gift from an unexpected source or connection? Or perhaps the hand is meant to be our own, taking action to create the lives, and world, we wish to inhabit.
(As always, the answer is whatever rings true for you.)
Pentacles are the suit of materiality — all we see and touch and hold. As such, they are often preoccupied with questions of value or worth. Not merely the worth that’s assigned by the external world, but the meaning we decide for ourselves. This week’s card reminds us that we get to define — and redefine — value, and what form it takes in our lives. We do this through what we prioritize. What we celebrate. What we create. What we uphold.
Sometimes, new beginnings are entirely fresh. But more often, they arrive as the start of a new chapter. Perhaps our circumstances changed. Or perhaps, we did.
Reassigning value is a sign of growth, a natural offshoot of reflection, contemplation, and progress. It’s okay to change your mind, and if you wish, to change direction.
There is value wherever we find it, and wherever we make it, but there is also value inherent in each of us. Our efforts. Our intentions. Our unique contributions. Just as you can decide that what you have is enough, you can recognize that who you are is enough, simply by existing.
The Ace of Pentacles invites us to consider what we wish to build. It could be anything: a story, a system, a family, a company, a legacy. It could be big or small. It could be secret, private, just for us.
This card challenges us to ask, “What matters?” and continue asking it on a near-constant basis. With the answer in mind, consider: Are our actions in service to this?
In the days ahead, the Ace of Pentacles encourages us to ponder what we value. Notice where we place our attention, and what ripples it creates in the physical world. Are we taking good care of our selves, our cares, our causes?
Remember that everything starts somewhere. With a seed, an idea, a sentence, a step. An intention.
As you consider what you’d like to begin, and what you’d like to create, be open. Be receptive. Be true to your own values. And if the hand on this card is any indication, leave room for surprises. It might turn out better than you know.
As always, thank you for reading.
Looking forward to this series, Caroline.
I am so here for this Passion Project! And also, grateful that you’re sharing it with us!