One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
Attunement amid the absurd.
“This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself, forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” — Albert Camus
“Don’t read today’s headlines,” my friend warned. Of course, I did. Like clockwork, I was pulled into that familiar, gut-churning vortex where everything feels futile, collapsing, and on fire. A sensation that leads to an intimate understanding of the depths of Sisyphus’ despair as he pushes his boulder up the hill again and again. When will this circus end? When will we be free from this reality, this horrendous news cycle, this war against knowledge and compassion and human decency?
It is a particularly difficult time to be alive, and Sisyphean is a word that frequently comes to mind as I live through it, often when I am at the very end of my rope. Why am I pushing this boulder up the hill only for it to roll back down again?
Perhaps, for Sisyphus, his motivation came from the fact that it was his boulder. Maybe, as he contemplated the slow, dull work of pushing against something solid and insurmountable, he noticed the earth beneath his feet, felt his muscles working and strength developing, heard the birdsong and animals skittering around him, and felt deeply in tune. Suddenly, you understand what Camus meant when he said we must imagine Sisyphus happy. There’s a particular absurdity to trying to stay hopeful in a world like this, to keep showing up, pushing the boulder anyway. But perhaps that’s where the richest work is right now: in finding that flicker of meaning, or at least tenderness, inside the mundane.
Following that brief moment of panic, I drew some cards, quietly asking: what is the collective energy, what is my action, and what is the result? I pulled the Five of Pentacles, the Queen of Pentacles, and the Page of Swords. This particular sequence felt deeply personal and timely, and I didn’t anticipate writing about it in such depth, but it poured out of me. My hope is that someone might find solace in these words.
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My largest and most difficult wound comes from growing up in scarcity. I spent much of my childhood and young adulthood functioning from the idea that there wasn’t enough and that I had to spend the rest of my life making sacrifices (often at the expense of my happiness and well-being) just to have my most basic needs met. But the deepest wound, one that quietly reverberated beneath the surface of all my actions, was this idea that I didn’t deserve to feel safe.
I’m certain countless others share this wound, especially if they exist within our millennial cohort. We’ve been given very few opportunities to feel abundantly safe and secure, apart from our blissfully internet-free childhoods when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. When you grow up with that kind of programming, it’s hard to unlearn. That maladaptive belief echoes throughout every room in your life: relationships, mental and physical health, your career. It impacts the positions you put yourself in, the things we settle for. We learn, over time, to accept very little because we think that’s all there is. And you really can’t blame us for that, because it’s all we’ve been taught and shown.
Energy: Five of Pentacles
This is the energy of the Five of Pentacles. It’s a card of abandonment, lack, and scarcity. It embodies the internalized belief so many of us share: that we are locked out of the lives we so deserve, forced to watch as others enjoy the warm glow of abundance, safely protected from the cold, barren landscape of lack. It’s not just about money: it’s about belonging, security, and support. And if you, like me, have stared longingly at a meager 700 sq ft (lol) property listed for 1.2M and felt homeownership of any kind to be a pipe dream at best, you know acutely the feeling I am describing here.
This is the rhetoric we often hear, and it’s difficult to navigate because there is so much truth in it: the generations before us, the ‘Baby Boomers’ and Gen X, had the privilege of knowing the world when it was exponentially easier to obtain that now-elusive American dream. As soon as we became of age and started thinking about futures and families of our own, the scaffolding that supported those generations before us evaporated. The proverbial ladder had already been hoisted back into the rescue helicopter, leaving us to tread hopelessly in deep, terrifying depths that threaten to swallow us whole.1
There is a lot working against us. And don’t get me started on the structural, the institutional. The way entire systems, from the carceral state to student debt, were designed to keep us out. This becomes inifinitely more true for those who belong to marginalized groups: people of color, women, the LGBTQIA+ community. I’m not here to spiritually bypass you: I’m here to validate and be furious with you.
Action: Queen of Pentacles
This is where the wisdom of the Queen of Pentacles comes in. She isn’t here to deny your experience, because that is very real. She is here to remind you of all the wonderful things you do currently have in your life. She emphasizes the importance of somatic awareness and intelligence. She doesn’t ask you just to recognize when you feel activated, but when you feel grounded and present.
Where are the portals in your life that open up this kind of experience for you? For me, it’s been through meditating with the windows open. Closing my eyes and snuggling my dogs and breathing in the oddly comforting doggy smell of their fur. Pressing and changing my bedsheets each week (worth it, and life-changing). A good, deep stretch. An ugly, genuine belly laugh, the kind when you sound like a witch. Making time to see my friends, even amid deadlines for school. Walking in nature, listening to the birds. All of these things make me say, internally: I’m rich! And I do feel rich. Rich in love, experience, and sometimes even softness, although my current workload and responsibilities often threaten to take that last part away. These things won’t look the same for everyone, so the work is finding what feels good for you specifically. Is it a nap in the afternoon? A gratuitous scroll on TikTok for some laughs? Is it getting a full tank of gas to get you where you need to go, or being able to afford groceries this week? Whatever it is, savor it.
And most importantly: remember, in these moments, you are completely safe. Hand on your heart, right now — it’s all we have. I can’t promise you the next moment, but odds are if you are here, reading this now, you are safe. There is so much heartbreak currently happening in the world, unimaginably hideous atrocities unfolding each day. I’m not denying that. I’m asking you to notice, right now, when you feel good. Attune to the sensations moving through your body. That is embodiment, and that is the energy of the Queen of Pentacles. That, for now, is our task.
Result: Page of Swords
Swords are psyche, intellect, logic. The page is a beginner: a student, protégé, mentee. Pages typically indicate beginnings, the sort of wide-eyed curiosity we often have when we first begin a project or approach something unknown. We are a little raw, shaky on new legs, but brave enough to speak the truth, even when we’ve only just found our voice. It’s through this newfound perspective of noticing and savoring the richness of our internal resources that we now navigate the world. How differently do you see it?
This is the reward: sweet clarity. A brand new way of thinking, a sharp tool where there used to be a blunt instrument. You don’t yet have precision, but you are lit up again, asking questions instead of spiraling and navel-gazing. Swords are the suit of air — movement, forward motion. Cutting through noise instead of internalizing it. The noise that used to distract you from the knowledge that comes from knowing the body and tuning in.
The Page doesn’t need to have all the answers yet, or ever. She only needs to stay awake, alive, alert to the landscape around her. To not shut down in the face of the tragedies of our modern world. To continually seek the signal within the static. One of the most radical things you can do right now is tune in, because the current state of our world thrives on distraction — from ourselves, from what’s going on politically, and from our purpose.
When you begin seeing the world from this perspective, you are infinitely less easy to control, and right now, I implore you to be ungovernable. I leave you with one of my favorite quotes, from the brilliant Eve Ensler:
The Dog by Francisco Goya, a painting that always breaks my damn heart when I think about it or see it, immediately comes to mind here.