Any time a tarot card shows up repeatedly in a class I’m teaching, I sit up and pay attention.

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Repeating cards often point to something bigger—an emerging theme, a story the group is collectively holding, or a pattern that’s ready to be seen.

This time, it was The Moon. And not just any Moon—the one from Chris-Anne’s Light Seer’s Tarot.

In that deck, she’s depicted as a woman drifting underwater. Surrounded by depth. Submerged in the unknown.

Now, the beauty of a well-illustrated deck is that the image can speak to you one way one week… and reveal something entirely different the next.

And this time?
What caught my attention wasn’t the mystery.
It wasn’t the movement. It was the suspension.

The illusion of depth.

The appearance of going beneath the surface—which looked like progress. But she wasn’t swimming–she was floating.

And that image sent me into a deeper reflection on something I see all the time in self-aware people—myself included.

The double-edged sword of insight.

This idea that having an insight–going beneath the surface– means we’re growing.

That awareness = movement.

Because insight activates the mind—it gives us that satisfying “aha.” And in that moment, it feels like something has changed.

But often… nothing actually has.

That’s the illusion.

Our minds are moving. Our emotions are stirred. But the insight hasn’t been integrated. It hasn’t been lived yet.

And I’ll be the first to admit: a juicy insight feels amazing in the moment.

You flip the card, get the hit, and think,
“Yes! That’s it. I totally see it now.”

You walk away feeling like something’s shifted—without actually changing anything.

It’s not that insight isn’t valuable—it is. But without direction, it becomes a holding pattern. A kind of spiritual treadmill.

So what does that look like when it’s happening in real life?

• The loop of reflection → no decision → more reflection
• You gather insight like wildflowers in spring—beautiful, abundant, and full of meaning. But insight alone doesn’t show you the way forward. Without direction, without movement, you end up standing still in the same field—arms full, heart full, but still no further along than when you started.
  
  
• The frustration of being in the same place after “doing the work”
  “I know better… so why can’t I do better?”  You’ve  processed. You’ve journaled. You’ve pulled all the cards. But the pattern persists. And the deeper the insight? The heavier the self-judgment becomes when things still don’t change.
  
  
• Insight inflation: everything feels equally important
  Each card, download, journal entry feels like a powerful message.
  And when everything feels meaningful, it’s impossible to tell what to prioritize. You struggle with deciding what matters now—and what’s just more information.

And this, I think, is where The Moon offers both her wisdom and her warning.

She reminds us that not everything is what it seems. That just because something feels meaningful doesn’t mean it’s meant to move you right now.

Clarity doesn’t come from collecting more—it comes from learning to see through the distortion. To pause. To ask better questions.

And that’s where the practice of discernment comes in.

Discernment is how we choose what matters, when to move, and what to simply hold.

Here are three simple ways to bring a bit more discernment into your readings and spiritual insights:

1. Ask: “What is this insight asking of me right now?”
   Instead of analyzing it endlessly, relate to it. Is it asking for rest? For reflection? For a next step? For release?
2. Zoom out and locate the timing.
   Not all insight is for now. Some is meant to plant seeds. Some is meant to witness. Some is meant to move you. “Is this insight for this moment—or a future one?” Timing is part of wisdom.
3. Filter it through what actually matters to you.
   Ask: “What am I working with right now?” Let that be your lens. If the insight supports it, it stays. If not, let it float.

Discernment is what brings you back to center when the insight gets loud. It’s how you find your footing when everything feels meaningful, but nothing feels clear.

You don’t need to chase every message or make meaning out of it all.
You just need to know what’s asking for your attention right now—and what can wait.
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That’s how momentum builds.

Not through constant breakthroughs, but through intentional movement.

Because insight isn’t the transformation–what you do with it is.​

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