Beloved Goddesses,

For this Gemini New Moon, I found myself reflecting on the Ten of Swords.

Or perhaps more accurately, the Ten of Knives.

The image in my deck this month, The Black Tarot, shows a woman on her knees, her chest open toward the sky. The knives are not hidden in her back. They are visible. In her torso. Her thighs. Her body.

The sun is rising behind the clouds.

Recently, I listened to an astrologer describe the Ten of Swords as one of the symbolic cards of this Gemini New Moon. His invitation was simple:

Remove one knife. Not all ten. Just one.

If you're curious about the astrologer's perspective that inspired this month's reflection, I've included the video below:

Most of These Thoughts Aren't Even Yours (Gemini New Moon June 2026)

The question stayed with me.

As I moved through my Gemini New Moon spread, one card appeared again.

The Three of Coins.

If I'm honest, I immediately became irritated.

This card has been stalking me for weeks. Different spreads. Different questions. Different positions. Same card.

At some point I wanted to say:

I hear you already. What more do you want from me?

The image in my deck shows an artist painting a portrait. There is only one visible artist. One visible creator. One visible worker holding the brush.

The card appeared in the position asking:

Which knife am I carrying?

At first, I thought the card was talking about collaboration because the 3 of Pentacles is traditionally about collaboration.

But then the High Priestess appeared.

And suddenly I realized something.

The problem was never collaboration.

The problem was the times I suppressed my intuition within collaboration.

I immediately thought about the moments when my intuition told me something wasn't right.

I knew it.

I sensed it.

I felt it.

And then I collaborated anyway because I was afraid I might miss an opportunity.

The High Priestess reminded me that intuition and collaboration are not enemies.

My intuition does not have to disappear when another person enters the room.

It gets a seat at the table too.

The card that followed was The Moon.

The question was:

What gift has been growing beneath the weight of that sword?

The answer surprised me.

Trust.

Not certainty.

Trust.

Over the last year, I have spent a great deal of time learning how to live with uncertainty. Through tarot. Through writing. Through ancestry work. Through libraries. Through gardens. Through life itself.

The Moon reminded me that perhaps the gift wasn't learning how to know.

Perhaps the gift was learning how to trust what I know.

Then came the Mother of Knives.

The card that asked:

What becomes possible when I remove one knife?

What struck me immediately was how comfortable she looked.

She wasn't holding ten knives.

She was holding one.

Perhaps the one knife I'd removed?

A single tool.

Not in defense.

Not for display.

Simply available.

The Mother of Knives knows what she knows.

She trusts what she knows.

And she speaks from that trust.

As someone with a Sagittarius Moon and North Node, I have been thinking a great deal about direct communication lately.

Not harsh communication.

Or performative communication.

Truthful communication.

The kind that doesn't require me to censor myself into invisibility or play small.

The kind that allows intuition to have a voice.

The High Priestess finally gets a spokesperson.

Then came Temperance.

One of my own Tarot birth cards.

In this deck, Temperance is represented by a chocolatier tempering chocolate. Working patiently. Repeatedly. Developing skill through relationship and practice.

As I reflected on the card, I couldn't help thinking about my tomato plants.

Some experienced gardeners would probably tell me they are too crowded.

There are too many plants in some containers.

Some need additional support.

Others probably should have been separated weeks ago.

And yet they are thriving.

More importantly, I am learning with them.

Practicing.

Paying attention.

Trusting my intuition about what they need.

Temperance reminded me that confidence comes from doing the thing, repeatedly.

Finally, the Son of Wands appeared in the position of unexpected support.

The image shows him floating among large fish while people watch from behind the glass.

I only recently noticed that he is also holding a camera.

Recording the experience.

Documenting it.

Allowing himself to be witnessed.

And I realized something.

I don't really know what I'm doing with these newsletters.

Or these writings.

Or these Substack posts.

Or these videos.

Or these stories.

But perhaps that is not the point.

The Son of Wands isn't waiting until he has perfected the experience before pressing record.

He enters the water anyway.

The audience watches anyway.

The story unfolds anyway.

Maybe that is the invitation of this Gemini New Moon.

Not to wait until everything is finished.

Not to wait until every knife is removed.

Not to wait until I know exactly what I am doing.

But to trust what I know.

To say what I mean.

To practice.

To create.

To allow myself to be witnessed while I am becoming.

Not after.

Now.

Gemini New Moon Tarot Spread

Card 1 — What wants my attention now? What message, idea, awareness, or conversation is trying to emerge through this New Moon?

Card 2 — Which knife am I carrying? What belief, obligation, expectation, or story has reached its limit?

Card 3 — Did I forge this knife, or inherit it? What is the deeper origin of this burden?

Card 4 — What gift has been growing beneath the weight? What strength, wisdom, talent, value, or resource have I developed while carrying this knife?

Card 5 — What becomes possible when I remove one knife? What freedom, space, support, or opportunity becomes available?

Card 6 — What story wants to begin? What seed is this Gemini New Moon planting in its place?

Card 7 — Who or what is trying to help me? What unexpected support, collaboration, partnership, or wisdom am I being invited to receive?

If you decide to work with these questions, I invite you to pull a tarot or oracle card for each one and notice what emerges. Or just journal. Whatever feels good to you. 

I am always amazed by what the cards are willing to reveal when we are willing to listen.

And if something meaningful comes up for you, I'd love to hear about it.

I am still learning.

Still writing.

Still pulling cards.

Still tending tomato plants that experienced gardeners would probably have opinions about.

Still becoming.

If you'd like to meet me in the shark tank and witness the journey, you can find me here:

 Substack:https://substack.com/@renitaraydavis

 YouTube: (87) Goddesses of Social Work – YouTube

Happy New Moon, Goddesses 

With gratitude,

Renita