Dear Yboracle,

I have been fixated on my own death for much of my life, but I am feeling a recent heightened focus on my cardiac health and overall wellbeing, worrying if I am experiencing a decline. It’s somewhat absurd, given that I am still nestled in my fertile years, although they continue to dwindle. I will wake up to the sound of my heartbeat thinking that it’s working overtime, and I better change my lifestyle and choices if I am going to extend my life and live as long as possible. How can I learn to shift this morbid focus and begin to embrace my mortality for its beauty and ephemerality?—Dreader of Death

Cards: Wheel of Fortune (reversed), King of Wands (reversed), Waxing gibbous, Four of Wands (reversed), Three of Wands

Dear DoD,

Somewhere, out beyond what we can see, is a field full of wheels. Some artists depict these like little Ferris Wheels, spinning vertically, but I’ve always liked thinking of them as bicycle rims on top of poles, spinning like carousels with ribbons and cards stuck in the spokes. This is the field of Fortuna, our goddess of fate and fortune. With a flick of her wrist, our wheel spins, bad luck turning into good, good luck running out. She might play favorites, she might be capricious, we don’t know.

But we do know that one day, our wheel is going to stop. Memento mori. Cut to black.

I bring up Fortuna because the card that leads off this entire spread is the Wheel of Fortune, the great reminder that try as we might to be the architects of our own fate, we’re also at the mercy of the universe.

Death is a particularly potent anxiety because you know for sure it’s going to happen. There’s no way around it. Ideally, it will be far in the future, after a long, well-lived life, and you’ll just drift off into a dream and stay there. But most of us don’t know how we’re going out. It could be a car accident at 17, a concussion from a fall at 50, a cancer that gets us at age 31. We have no way of knowing when that final curtain drops and try as we might to leave a lasting legacy with our family, or our work, or our art, we will leave this world behind one day.

But that paralyzing fear of the inevitable has a positive side: it occasionally reminds us that we need to LIVE, goddammit.

It doesn’t surprise me that you’re dreading death because, as the King of Wands, you are violently blooming with life. The wands are a suit of passion, creation, and potential, and as the king, you radiate both power and drive. You’re probably more comfortable when you’re working towards something and I’m willing to bet that if you created a “bucket list” that it would be pages long.

But our goals and priorities may change without us realizing it. With the Waxing gibbous, it’s important to really look and reevaluate what we want and refine those goals. Life does not move in a straight line. Things happen—big life-changing things and small daily things—and that might shift our priorities. A goal that was your absolute dream 10 years ago may now be in the “take it or leave it” camp. Inversely, something you took for granted for years might now be something that you value deeply.

One of these priorities, for you and for many of us, is family and community. With the Four of Wands in its glorious bloom, it’s a good reminder that this life you’re moving through has a wide cast of supporting characters. You mention the need to change your lifestyle choices in order to live a longer life. While some personal decisions can improve your health as you age—quitting smoking, moving your body, consuming what seems like an obscene amount of fiber—it’s important to note that relationships are also a factor in longevity. Having meaningful long-term relationships (spouses, siblings, dear friends) and casual social connections (library friends, people you play pickleball with) can actually extend your life.

They can also shorten it too if they’re fairly destructive but for the sake of the cards, let’s stick to the positive.

As you make that list and think about your goals, also think about who you want to do things with. Who do you want to travel to visit? Who do you want to spend an afternoon talking on the phone to, seeing a movie with, inviting to dinner? What do you want your family (found or bloodline) to look like in the years to come? What joy comes from their company?

As we end with the Three of Wands—the only right-side-up card in the whole spread—it’s important to be in the present. Look at the life you have already lived, the path you’ve already walked. You’ve probably outlived most of the English Romantic poets and half the rock stars from the 70s. And you have a life ahead of you. You don’t know how long you have, but what can you do before leaving this world behind?

Life doesn’t promise us a good time. Often it can be careless and brutal, and sometimes forces beyond us keep us from living out our wildest dreams. But in the cold, cruel world, there exists beauty, meaning, and love. You’re more than welcome to rage against the dying of the light, but remember that your life isn’t in a vacuum.

What brings you meaning? How can you share that with others?

While we might be by ourselves in the moment of transition, we don’t really die alone because we don’t live alone. We’re a character in other people’s lives as well. So, if you were to shake off this mortal coil tomorrow, how do you want to leave them?
May you have many years to find that answer and to live fiercely, my dear.

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