The Star

In a tree by the brook, there’s a songbird who sings

Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven…

And as we wind on down the road

Our shadows taller than our soul

There walks a lady we all know

Who shines white light and wants to show

How everything still turns to gold

And if you listen very hard

The tune will come to you at last

When all are one and one is all, yeah

To be a rock and not to roll

‘Stairway to Heaven’ by Led Zeppelin (Page/Plant)

Welcome to my Circle of Stars!

I had lots of songs I could pick for this card, but ultimately I felt I had to go with Led Zep because they seemed pretty obsessed with the RWS around the time that Stairway came out (we can see the Hermit on the gatefold sleeve of Zep IV, and, possibly, a representation of the Ten of Wands on the front).  ‘The Lady’ in the lyrics has been postulated to be the lady from the Star card – there she is in her ‘brook’ with her ‘songbird’ singing in the ‘tree’ behind her. Shining her white light and showing us that, whatever hardships may befall us along the road of life, there is still potential for everything to turn to gold. For the tune to come to us at last. For us to find our rock, our home, the safe place for our soul. To no longer roll without purpose through our lives. The ‘stairway to heaven’ is in itself a concept from ancient philosophy and alchemy about ascending through various spheres to reach paradise/spiritual fulfilment, and in this sense the Fool’s Journey of the Tarot can also be thought of as a stairway to heaven.

The Star card itself is a bit of a ‘cover star’ – often the prettiest card in a deck, it graces more box fronts in my collection than any of the other 77. It’s not just a looker though, but is also a beautiful card on the inside (lol), standing as it does for hope, healing, and gentle renewal. This makes it a firm favourite with many familiar with the Tarot, a card that may “speak in whispers, but [nevertheless]… holds a special place in many readers’ hearts” (Jen Cownie & Fiona Lensvelt). The Star reminds us that help may come from unseen sources, that we are never truly alone even in our darkest hour – the Star is there too, a spark of light in the great void. It’s not a happy!happy!joy!joy! card though (I see you, Sun!), there’s also a touch of melancholy about it, as it necessarily calls back to past difficulties. The Star, though, is the moment we turn away from the pain of our past (our Tower moment) and dare to look to our future once more. And hope.

“As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread, and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that it left to us, in a bad time”

E.B. White

Traditional Star card imagery shows a kneeling, naked woman pouring water out of two jugs – one into the river and one on to the banks. This is understood to represent the many ways that hope can nourish us – she is both refilling the pool so that those who are thirsty may drink, and watering the land so that more fruit trees may grow to feed those who are hungry. Maddy Elruna points out that the pool (as with all water) represents our unconscious, our dreams, our connections with others at a soul level. She states that the water being poured back into the pool reminds us of the importance of working on our inner path, whereas the water being poured onto the earth reminds us to take action to turn our dreams and wishes into a reality. We need to have the dreams and wishes first though, and this is why (un)consciousness work (self-work, therapy, meditation, reflecting on why we are how we are, prayer, Tarot – lol) is so important: “as we start to work on this subtle level, it will have an effect on our lives, and probably a much wider influence”. We can see the importance of ‘future‘ all over the symbolism in this card – both with the similarity to the woman’s pose gazing into the sparkling waters of the pool and the ancient art of scrying, and the well-established cross-cultural concept of seeing our destinies in the stars.

Star cards often feature many small stars (traditionally 7), and one large one. It’s possible this large star is meant to be Sirius, the Dog Star, whose zenith in the sky used to predict the annual flooding of the Nile in Egypt, an event which watered the land (for agriculture) as well as replenishing the waters of the river itself. The eight pointed star is also reminiscent of a compass, which again suggests the symbolic ‘star’ of this card is a call for us to use its energy to navigate our way out of a difficult time into a more promising future. Finally, many Star cards will also show a bird of some type. In ‘traditional’ decks like the Morgan Greer (above), this bird is taken to depict an ibis. Associated with the Egyptian god Thoth (of Tarot fame!) – patron of learning, science, magic, and the moon – the ibis is seen as a healer and a peace-maker. The ibis is also a bird that is known for its tenacity and will to survive, even in (seemingly) hopeless situations. It is said that it is the last bird to seek shelter before a hurricane, and the first to emerge afterwards: the embodiment of optimism after a storm. And, much like the Dog Star, the ibis was a bird whose arrival often coincided with the regenerative and restorative flooding of the Nile. Birds are often seen symbolically as messengers, and the ibis in particular can thus be viewed as bringing the words of wisdom needed to uplift, enlighten, and support.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.

‘”Hope” is the thing with feathers’ by Emily Dickinson

It’s important to note, though, that the message of the Star card is a bit more complex than ‘everything is going to be OK’. While it does indicate a (current) time of healing and peace (via the oasis of water often seen on the card), its hopeful vision is for tomorrow. The card does not predict immediate or powerful change, but rather it reminds us that there is assistance out there to help us through difficulties, and that there is a chance for us to achieve our dreams, provided we are patient and don’t lose sight of our goal. We must remember that stars are like “possible futures… cool and distant. Yet if you keep one in sight, it can guide you to your destination, no matter how far away it is… Follow your star… and have hope” (Aeclectic Tarot). In other words, the card suggests to us that we can get what we want, but only if we are prepared to go the distance for it. As Thirteen explains, “if, like a ship navigating its way, [we] keep the star in [our] sights, [we] will eventually reach the other land [we] are seeking”.

We could still get tired, give up, or be lured away by the sirens of complacency and self-destruction – all the Star promises is that a certain future can exist. Just like the seafarers in days of old, to reach this future it is not enough to just ‘follow a star’, we have to get a ship, stock it, and be prepared to sail through turbulent seas to reach our desired destination. The Star doesn’t make any promises, it doesn’t say ‘keep the faith, it will happen’, but rather ‘it could happen if you hold your course’. The one thing it does promise though, is help. When ships were lost at sea, they searched for the North Star to guide them. As long as they could find the star to navigate by, there was hope they might find their way. So while the Star doesn’t promise your dreams will come true, it does promise there is hope, and that you will not be alone in your struggles. And that is the gift the card brings, that gentle sighing feeling that accompanies hope. Like lying by the riverside and looking to the stars. The feeling that touches the soul and asks us to push just a little further to find happiness.

I love cards that lean into this nautical association, and remind me of Stella Maris, our Lady Star of the Sea (an incarnation of the Virgin Mary), who sailors used to pray to in storms. In the 12th Century, St. Bernard of Clairvaux wrote: “If the winds of temptation arise, if you are driven upon the rocks of tribulation look to the star, call on [Stella Maris]. If you are tossed upon the waves of pride, of ambition, of envy, of rivalry, look to the star, call on [Stella Maris]. Should anger, or avarice, or fleshly desire violently assail the frail vessel of your soul, look to the star, call upon [Stella Maris]”. If we look at some early iconography of Stella Maris the symbolic and visual links to many versions of the Star card are very apparent.

While the Star is a card about hope – and who doesn’t love hope? – a lot of the Tarot writers I like best engage with the idea that hope is really hard for some of us, and that, far from being a positive card, the Star can sometimes feel like a rebuke or a criticism. Jessica Dore points out that “in a very real sense, a lack of hope can be seen as adaptive, protective, and wise. In severe cases, a lack of hope can keep us alive in an environment where to suffer one more blow of disappointment could be the thing that does us in”. Holding on to hope, especially in the wake of trauma, or in the face of overwhelming difficulty, can feel pointless. But the Star asks us to do it anyway: “It doesn’t try to pretend that everything is fine now; it doesn’t negate the past, or promise that the future will be perfect. It isn’t about fixing things, because you do not need to be fixed. Your experiences are part of who you are, and who you’ll become… [Instead], the card acknowledges what has happened and it offers space to reflect – and to heal, if you need it – speaking to the ability to find peace within yourself, even when the world is in chaos” (Jen Cownie & Fiona Lensvelt).

Some really lovely, hopeful Stars here. I love the way the figure in the Hayworth Tarot seems to be gathering the Stars to their mouth like a comfort blanket and breathing in the smell of home. Lori Walls’ drawing is a glorious celebration of hope, blazing out from the pool where life begins. And Brooke Penrose’s Star card is gorgeous. Is this a trans body? Is it a body that has been through surgery? Childbirth? IDK, but I do know that this looks like a body that has weathered many storms, and has emerged on the other side whole, healthy, beautiful, free from the shame that plagues so many of us. For me this is big Star energy – not that we may escape the thousand tiny little hurts and scars that life will inflict upon us, etch upon our skin – but that we may come, over time and with struggle, to realise our true selves and be comfortable in our own beautiful bodies. Frida Kahlo once wrote, “at the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can”. The gift in that, and the gift in the Star, is that through this endurance we are transformed. Into something beautiful and new.

“The Star is often interpreted as a harbinger of hope. But without a willingness to examine the barriers to hope – to a genuine belief in things working out – I often fear that the medicine could be insoluble, that the message will fall flat. At the very least, perhaps the Star can be an invitation to all those having a hard time with hope to give themselves grace around why that is. Grace in practice looks like reminding yourself that it isn’t your fault if hope feels hard, and that odd as it might sound, hopelessness may have actually been the thing that protected you all these years. Something you did because you loved yourself so much you weren’t willing to put yourself through one more disappointment. Because you have the inborn wisdom to know that to wish even once more in a circumstance that couldn’t and wouldn’t change might have shattered you… But… it’s never too late to go back and claim our lost virtues: will, purpose, love, wisdom, and hope”. 

Jessica Dore, ‘Tarot For Change‘

Because so many Star cards are so pretty, it is really hard to pick my favourites! Some really striking traditional portrayals here. As ever, I really enjoy the gentle, faithful way that the DruidCraft Tarot interprets the RWS deck. Heather R. Hitchman’s unicorn is also really lovely. The guidebook explains: “[There is] a hope that burns within you, still aflame despite every attempt to extinguish it… Let the light within ignite your confidence, and faith, letting you move forward with indefatigable purpose”. And another uplifting Star in the Mike Willcox Tarot & Oracle, pouring out her hope and comfort from both hands and heart.

The Star is often positioned as an explicitly feminine card, so it’s not surprising that so many depictions involve women. Jane Caputi, who I cited a bunch in my Tower post, describes the Tower as a masculine card, and the Star as a feminine card, and thinks the fact one follows on from the other says a lot about the energies of both destruction and healing. “The archetype of the destroyed Tower followed by the Star reminds us that [after disaster], our job… is to once again give respect to the female and the feminine, to restructure, to heal, renovate, and reform”.

However, not all decks feature women, and many really stunning cards just focus on the bright, vibrant image of the Star itself, shining above us in the heavens.

Bakara Wintner reminds us that it is always darkest before the dawn, and the Star is the dawn: “Think about the hardest you’ve ever cried in your life, and then the moment you took a deep breath, wiped the snot off your face, and decided you were done crying. You feel lighter. And clean. That is The Star”. She points out that after the rapid-fire action of the previous cards, “the Star asks us to chill for a sec and nourish ourselves”, and goes on to add, “if the Tower is the difficult and excruciating labour, then the Star is the merciful birth”. This really struck a chord with me, and I thought of my own ‘Star moment’, that weird snatch of time when the baby is placed on your chest, pure love hormone floods your system, and all the agony that was wracking every fibre of your body (and that soon comes rushing back, if in a slightly lesser form!) disappears. Just one perfect moment of hope, and love, and potential, that blots out every bad thing and, just for one second, reminds you that it is all worth it. I really love how the Prismatic Tarot captures this idea of hope, peace, and nurture by calling to mind the way the baby floats in the womb.

I also love how Stasia Burrington has built on this idea of the freedom of floating and the safety of the ‘umbilical’ cord in her rendition of the Star. This card is so reminiscent for me of the really powerful scene in Gravity where Sandra Bullock’s character finally is able to return to the safety of her craft after her ordeal in space and curls up in the foetal position, allowing hope to return to her heart.

I love how Eric Maille’s card focuses on a shooting star, given as they’re particularly associated with wishes and hopefulness. Joe Buckley’s Star here is a Ringed Earthstar, which are called “fallen stars” by the Blackfoot of North America, and placed in the navels of babies by the Cherokee – once again linking the card with the ideas of re/birth.

I’m a big fan of these cracked and imperfect stars, that show how hope can often be a messy, broken thing – worn down by disappointment, but still there. The image from the el Goliath Tarot just makes me think of the amazing Leonard Cohen (RIP) line: ‘There is a crack, a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in‘. The artist and creator, Goliath, explains how he based the image off the heart of a broken tree stump that he saw whilst out hiking, “the stump… reminded me… that we have the power of the Universe inside us, even if we get cut down at the knees. Despite the pain of being severed, we are all little star seeds on our own cosmic, special, unique journeys… [We all have a] spiritual guiding star that we carry within us”. The Urban Tarot illustration reminds me of Oscar Wilde: ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars‘. The artist and creator Robin Scott explains how the setting for this card is in front of the Bowery Mission, a faith-based homeless shelter and soup kitchen in New York: “I wanted to place the viewer literally in the gutter, looking up to the light of hope and promise”. The energy of the Star is here in both those hoping for a better run of luck, and those providing help for folks who need it: “Hope asks us to give, to let our kindness and generosity flow like water… We pour out love… and hope that we make the world a little better by it. We look up, and we pour out from a vessel that is never emptied”.

Sometimes things don’t go, after all,

from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel

faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail.

Sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

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A people sometimes will step back from war,

elect an honest man, decide they care

enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.

Some men become what they were born for.

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Sometimes our best intentions do not go

amiss; sometimes we do as we meant to.

The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow

that seemed hard frozen; may it happen for you.

‘Sometimes’ by Sheenagh Pugh

Finally, I really love me some star-gazey Stars. This one from the Cosmic Cycles Tarot is so gentle and sweet, and I adore the nostalgia, safety, companionship, and hope the card from the Out of Hand Tarot conjures. It feels like I’m little again, lying with my mum out on the lawn looking up at the sky and wishing on a star.

I have seen flowers come in stony places
And kind things done by men with ugly faces,
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust, too.

‘An Epilogue’ by John Masefield

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