Creative Arcana 004. Hannah Levy.

A Tarot-led interview with writer & poet, Hannah Levy

Jan 11, 2024

Hi little coven. Before we begin, a quick reminder that this Sunday at 7pm GMT / 2pm EST / 11am PST I’m hosting a casual tarot journaling workshop to help you set intentions around personal and community care over the coming months. The event is free and open to all. You can register here.

Creative Arcana is a regular series on The Shuffle featuring interviews with writers, artists, and makers about their creative lives, projects, and processes. The line of questioning will be informed by a series of tarot card pulls. Want to submit yourself, or a creative you know, to be featured in an upcoming Creative Arcana segment? Please fill out this form.

**Hannah Levy** is a writer, poet, and editor of **The Rebis,** a print publication celebrating tarot & creativity.

The Instagram algorithm has a lot of sins to answer for, but I can’t deny that it has also offered many gifts: I met Hannah Levy (and many of my other colleagues working at the intersection of tarot and creativity) thanks to Instagram’s “suggested accounts” function.

I was deep in the drafting process for my forthcoming book, Tarot for Creativity, and Hannah was working in a parallel space: curating creative writing and art inspired by the Wheel of Fortune for The Rebis, the literary magazine that she founded and edits.

I’ve enthusiastically followed Hannah’s journey with The Rebis ever since. The latest edition, guest-edited by Maria Minnis (who will be joining me for The Tarot Reader’s Book Club next month), and featuring creative work from Meg Jones Wall, Xaviera Lopez, Cassandra Snow, and others is a beautiful offering to The Chariot card. Here’s a brief extract from Hannah’s introductory note to that issue:

The Chariot is a portal into the unknown. If you have ever taken a big risk, done something that scares you, moved away from what feels safe, stretched yourself in a profound way — if you have ever felt the erotic thrill of stepping towards a deeply held desire, the ground beneath you shifting as you move in closer — then you know what it feels like to climb into the Chariot. This is not a comfortable ride with clear direction and paved roads. It is a departure, a migration, an exodus. But it is also a homecoming.
I know this journey well. I have been a charioteer for the past few years after embarking on a new life path, one that curves away from the narrow roads I had grown accustomed to. I walked away from an established career. I changed how I approach relationships. I set (and held) boundaries. I’m learning how to dismantle old ways of thinking, how to emotionally excavate until I reach a place that feels authentic and true. It’s been isolating at times, full of uncertainty and fear. But it’s also been expansive, liberating. And it has brought me more love and joy than I could have ever imagined. For the first time in a long time, I am able to name what I want and walk towards it.

Photos of the latest edition of The Rebis, courtesy of Hannah Levy

Hannah’s talent as a writer, and thoughtful approach to the tarot are proof of the closest thing I have to religion: the cards are a conduit for creativity.

I felt immeasurably lucky to spend some time with Hannah, pulling cards and talking about our shared passion for using the tarot in a creative context. I hope you’ll find our conversation as stimulating and soul-soothing as I did.

A quick key before you read:

Large bold font like this indicates that I (Chelsey) am asking a question

Hannah’s answers will be indented with a block quote border like this

Justice. I’m really interested in the ways that this card’s composition balances the elements of earth and air, with the sword raised to the heavens as a symbol for the way that the workings of the mind generate clarity and wisdom, and the scales counterbalancing that high-concept intellectuality with the importance of grounding weight.

I think the act of creativity does something strikingly similar: it elevates the work of the mind while grounding it in creation.

Can you share how you experience creativity as an interplay between mind and body/spirit world and physical world?

I’ve been thinking about Justice a lot lately, considering in some tarot decks it’s the eighth Major Arcana card1 and we’re in an 8 year, numerologically speaking!2 As you mention, the scales are a prominent feature of the card. They make me think of the word “equilibrium.” I think creativity is about deepening into my own intuition while being open to inspiration from the universe — finding that push-pull between inward and outward reflection.
It’s no surprise that I often feel most creative when I am out alone in nature — when my body feels grounded, rooted in Earth energy, and I feel connected to something larger than myself. I will go on a hike or walk in nature and set a loose intention of opening my creative channel to ideas. I’ll leave myself voice memos as I walk, with words/phrases/ideas that come to mind. (As much as I hate being on my phone, it’s really useful to carry it. Capturing the ideas in the moment is key because often they slip my mind later.)
Being in motion physically helps me quiet the white noise in my mind, allowing me to be present to what feels most alive. In these settings, I have experienced very big moments — some people call this “receiving a download” — where I’ll have a lightning strike idea, or be able to weave big themes together, or find the missing piece to something I’ve been contemplating. I also experience smaller creative sparks, where something that I observe in nature, whether it’s a bird, or the way a plant is growing, will click something into place for me. One time, I came across a tree growing out of a rock. It led me to writing a poem about thriving in seemingly impossible situations.

Bringing this back to Justice: I always like to look up the etymology of a word when I’m trying to develop a relationship with it. According to the internet, the word “justice” can be traced back to Latin iūstitia (meaning “righteousness, equity”), from iūs (“right”), and all the way back to Proto-Italic *jowos (“sacred formula”) and Proto-Indo-European *h₂yew-. (“vital force, life”). This seems so appropriate within the context of aligning the terrestrial with the spiritual as an act of creation. It’s about self-discovery, finding what brings your mind and body to life.
You can connect Justice’s 11 to the High Priestess’ 2, numerologically. I see a mirror between these cards, especially in the Rider-Waite-Smith deck’s imagery: the two columns, the figure’s posture, the tapestry hanging in the background. The High Priestess is the water element to Justice’s air. While Justice asks us to face what is most true and alive inside of us, the High Priestess asks us to face what’s unknown, what’s decaying (she’s the queen of the underworld for a reason!). Bringing both perspectives together will give our creative work a sense of wholeness, will allow it to transform, will help us release what is no longer working to make space for possibility and growth.

Strength. This card always feels to me like an illustration of what it’s like to show up to a creative project that scares me but also compels me: the maiden’s willingness to put her fingers in the lion’s mouth is my own instinct to get close to the scary bits of my creative journey.

Have you had similar experiences in your own creative work?

This question reminds me of a quote I love from writer
Yrsa Daley-Ward
: “If you are afraid to write it, that's a good sign. I suppose you know when you're writing the truth when you're terrified.”
It is not hyperbole to say that I always feel scared when I’m doing creative work, especially when I’m releasing it to the public. It’s not a heavy fear, not the kind of fear that makes me feel unsafe. It’s more erotic than that — there is thrill, excitement, and pleasure threaded into it. If I don’t feel scared, it doesn’t feel like I’m really going deep enough. It took me years and years to be comfortable holding onto this fear and putting my work out there anyway. The first time I self-published poetry (a pice of writing that was rather intense, I might add), I got a handful of DMs along the lines of “are you okay?” I took it as a compliment, that I made an impact, that there was a felt emotional response.
We often wear so much armor and so many masks to exist in this world. It’s very hard to be our truest, most authentic selves in a public way — whether that’s submitting writing for publication or putting our art out there. I have gotten *countless* rejections for poetry and personal writing from lit mags. The first few times it stung, but now I consider it a signal that I just have to work a little harder to find a home for my poems. My first lit mag acceptance was so meaningful; I felt seen in a really big way! And when I first published The Rebis, after months and months of hard work, I was nervous that people wouldn’t think it was worth purchasing… or worse, afraid that no one would care at all. The momentum has been slow, but one year later I’m almost sold out of our first issue, and I’m about halfway sold out of our current issue after only 2 months!

Knight of Wands. What’s your current passion project?

In November 2023, I started a personal (and free) Substack called
// understories //
. It’s an an intimate space for my writing. I’m approaching it as an experiment, a place where I can stretch language and bend time and descend into the well of my imagination. This is not a tarot-focused publication, although I anticipate tarot references since it’s such a big part of my practice.

As I mentioned, I am also submitting work to literary magazines — a recent win is that one of my poems will be in the January 2024 issue of Variant Literature! It’s based on a road trip I took with my daughter and partner in October 2021, where we experienced the impacts of a California wildfire, an oil spill, and the COVID pandemic all in one trip — a reflection on parenting while the world feels like it’s ending.

Two of Pentacles. In the comments of my article, The (shadow) artist’s way, you shared a really thoughtful reflection on your own experience working in marketing for 15 years while also pursuing your personal creative projects.

Can you share some advice for readers about balancing the practicalities of being both a creative-for-hire and simultaneously managing your own creative pursuits?

Oof, finding balance between professional work and personal creative projects is so difficult. I have deep empathy for anyone who is navigating this path. I worked full-time for tech companies while managing a music blog on the side for seven years, and often felt resentful of my day job for “taking” all of my creative energy. Even when I wasn’t actively working, I would think about work constantly, which diluted the time I spent on the blog and other personal projects.
My best advice is to create healthy boundaries that you can stick to and rituals for transitioning between the two spaces. When I went into an office, I used the commute time home to release the energy from the day — I listened to music that helped me feel grounded, or a podcast about writing/art/culture, which focused my attention away from the tech startup world that I inhabited all day. I set aside one night each weeknight and a few hours each weekend for my side projects. But I also learned that it was okay to take a personal day every so often, when I needed extended time to work on my own creative endeavors.
In 2020, I began working from home exclusively, and saw the disintegration of all boundaries between work/home/creative life. Then I read some advice about building in a “commute” even if you worked from home — whether it’s a walk around the block, a bath, a quick meditation, or a ritual like lighting a candle or some sage and pulling some tarot cards. Taking a few minutes to myself before switching modes signals to my brain and body that it’s time to take my attention away from work and put it elsewhere.
I also accepted the reality that there were seasons where my “day job” took priority and seasons where personal work took priority, in terms of emotional investment. When I was pouring more of myself into personal projects, I emotionally detached from my 9-5 — I showed up and did the work required of me, but I tried to release my patterns of perfectionism and over-achieving. (I must admit, this is much easier said than done, I spent a lot of therapy hours anxious and worried about failure at work.)
No one can tell you the best way to structure your time or your energy so that you feel balanced between professional and personal creative work. It’s going to be an ongoing practice, and takes experimentation and continuous checking in with yourself about what’s working and what’s not working.

Queen of Pentacles. I’m always struck by the slow-living vibes of this Queen. Can you share how you slow down in your creative life, so that you can make time for the joy, rest, and spiritual exploration that fuels your work?

The Queen showing up here reminds me of what I said earlier, that creativity requires attention and presence. The Queen of Pentacles is gazing down at something she holds precious, sitting still with it while the world moves around her. There is a lesson here: we do not have to work to be worthy. One of the principles in Emergent Strategy by adrianne maree brown is “what you pay attention to grows,” and this is a philosophy I have carried forward into my life. In our fast-paced, capitalist world, the simple act of paying attention demands a specific kind of slowness.

Tarot was one of the first ways I started to slow down — I wrote about that here. The practice of pulling cards itself is a forcing function. I shuffle the cards, touch their edges. Select one and turn it over, gaze at its symbolism. I sit with its meaning for a few minutes, or maybe for a few hours, days (weeks!) even. I allow the card to drift across my consciousness while I wash the dishes, or push a grocery cart down an aisle. I look closely at the small details, like I would a painting: the brushstrokes, the colors, the small bird in the corner, the river in the background.

Getting off my phone and social media helps. I deleted all social media apps from my phone for four months, from November 2022-March 2023. It was hard at first, but eventually I found myself using my phone less and spent more time connecting with whatever was in front of me: my kid, my cats, my partners, the piles of unread books around my house. I also go on walks without my phone — no music, no chance of being interrupted. I use social media for community building and for sharing personal work, so it’s not sustainable for me to be completely offline all of the time, but I continue to try to have phone boundaries.
I’ve also been focusing on some hobbies that are very different from writing and editing: horseback riding, watercolor painting, and gardening. They are immersive activities away from screens. I’ve been experimenting with watercolors of the cosmos, based on James Webb Telescope images, and it’s very meditative. Watercolor painting is a practice in slowing down and surrendering — you can’t always control how the water moves the paint, and you have to wait for each layer to dry before adding the next. I’m doing this purely for the fun of creation, and it’s refreshing to play with a new art form.

A recent water color by Hannah, courtesy of the artist

Hannah also shared some tips for creatives wishing to incorporate tarot into their creative practice:

Finding a deck that resonates is an important first step — you have to feel connected to the artist, the artwork, the symbolism, and the language used for the deck. Some of my favorite decks for creative practices are the traditional Rider-Waite-Smith deck, the Wild Unknown by Kim Krans, Fifth Spirit Tarot by Charlie Claire Burgess, Light Seer’s Tarot by Chris-Anne, and The Gentle Tarot by Mariza Ryce Aparicio-Tovar. Try to find a local shop that sells tarot cards and ask if there are any open copies to “preview” (that way you can react to the energy of a deck before investing in one).

Pulling a card a day as a creative ritual and keeping a journal is really helpful. Write down words or phrases that come up, colors you are drawn to from the card, symbolism you might want to incorporate into your work. Get curious about the story behind the card: What was happening in the moments preceding the scene, and what happens in the moments after? What questions would you ask, or how would you respond, if you came across the figure/scene in real life? What would it feel like to embody the card? Does the card evoke any memories from your personal life? Pick an element from the card and do some research — is there a river in the card, or a mythological animal, or a specific symbol? Does the card connect with earth, air, fire, or water energy? If you write fiction, you could create a character arc around the figure, or build out a scene based on the card. There is so much you can respond to in a single card, it’s such a fantastic way to be in dialogue with your creative work and ideas, especially if you’re feeling a sense of stuckness.

Another personal practice I’ve come to love is to pair tarot with other creative work — I’ll read a poem, or an excerpt from a book, or look at a painting, and consider what card matches the energy in the piece. Or vice versa — pull a card, and see if I can connect it to songs, artwork, movies, books. You can even take a deck with you to a museum (actually, I take my RWS deck with me everywhere). Later, when I eventually end up pulling the card again in a reading, I can call upon different artistic associations, which adds a creative layer to my reading. Feels like a powerful way to tap into collective consciousness.

Many thanks to Hannah Levy for trusting me and my cards throughout this interview.

Follow Hannah’s Substack, //understories// here.

Follow Hannah on Instagram here.

You can purchase the latest copy of The Rebis here. You can also follow The Rebis on Substack and Instagram.

Join the conversation in the comments:

What did this interview bring up for you? I’d love to know:

What are your own answers to the card-prompted questions I asked Hannah?
What tarot deck do you use to tap into your creativity?
Anything else you’d like to share