Hi Reader!

What comes up for you when you read the words “inner child”?

When I think of my inner child, I first imagine a little girl, sitting on the playground under the play structure, watching the other kids play and feeling sad and left out.

A lot of my “inner child work” involves sitting on the gravel with little Daniela and telling her that I’m with her and I love her. (Being a Scorpio Moon, of course the first thing that comes up is the pain and challenge of being a kid in a small, small world where I didn’t belong.)

But being a child is about so much more than that.

As a kid, I loved to make up fantasy worlds with my little sister, Rachel. We pretended that we were princesses of a magical world called Oneja Land. We even drew a map of our kingdom on a piece of poster board, drawing the rivers in blue Crayola and the forests in green.

When I asked my inner child how she wanted to write this newsletter, she gave me permission to write from presence. To express just because it’s fun and joyful and alive.

She wants me to remember how it felt to read a fantasy novel on the old brown couch in my parents’ house, escaping from the mundane world of homework and clearing the plates after dinner. She wants me to write about running through the sprinklers and having water fights and hiking through the Zion river, water sloshing up to my knees.

She wants me to remember that even though I was that little girl under the play structure, I was also the little girl who felt her hair in the wind as she rocked back and forth on a swing in the backyard.

That she was able to live without an agenda.

I write this newsletter to give you a moment each week to remember parts of yourself, and for me to remember parts of myself, that may be forgotten to the endless grind of life.

The sad parts, the parts that feel rejected, and the parts that are full of joy and wonder, too.

One way I understand my parts is through astrology.

When I look at my birth chart, I can see them all in there. My deep, intense Scorpio Moon, my playful, endlessly curious Gemini Sun, my serious, ambitious Capricorn Rising. Knowing myself through astrological language helps me remember my parts and feel compassion for the bizarre paradox that is Daniela.

Another way I get to greet my different parts is by drawing tarot cards.

They help put a stop to my endless thoughts and say, “I’m here, too!” (For more on the card that inspired today’s email, keep reading.)

At this point, the adult me wants to leave you with some pithy bit of wisdom. Some invitation or instruction on how to be with your inner child. But the little girl is pulling on my hand, telling me it’s time to go run in the sprinklers and eat a popsicle.

I’m going to go do that now.

Daniela (and her inner child)

This Email Was Brought to You By Page of Cups

Every week when I write you an email, I pull a tarot card for guidance first. This week, I pulled Page of Cups.

In her book, Tarot for the Wild Soul, Lindsay Mack writes about the Page of Cups as a complex inner child – one that may need reparenting, but one that’s also wide-eyed with wonder at the world. It invited me to connect with my inner child and to write this email without knowing exactly where it was going.

🎴 This Week's Tarot Pull:

For this week's tarot pull, I invite you to connect to your inner child. What does he or she want you to know?

Pull a card to find out by clicking below! 👇🏼