Walking the Light and Shadow of the Initiatory Path: Alchemy by a Past Life and Tarot Reader

When the veil between worlds thins, when the outer world is in chaos, something in our being is called to awaken. At such times, edges blur, time seems deceptive, things we know so well become strange. We are often called to a remembering of sorts. We reach for the old maps, the sacred patterns, the ancient languages written not in words, but in symbols and soul. For me, one of the most powerful of these maps is the Hermetic Tree of Life, a luminous structure of consciousness where Tarot becomes more than an oracle—it becomes an initiatory path.

As a past life and Tarot reader, I’ve walked this path many times, not just in this life, but in others. I’ve seen the same patterns reappear. Through dreams and memory, through synchronicities, through soul recall. The Tarot’s Major Arcana have spoken to me in visions, in rituals, in whispered messages, often when I least expected them. Each card, each archetype, is an initiator, a companion, a mirror, and sometimes a challenger.

When I first began working with the Tree of Life in earnest, I felt as if I had stumbled into a temple my soul had known for lifetimes. The Sephiroth shimmered like living stations of consciousness, and the twenty-two paths—each one aligned with a Major Arcana card—became vivid thresholds. Not static ideas, but energetic doorways. Invitations to grow, to dissolve, to remember.

Every one of us walks the path of the Fool—again and again. We begin in openness, sometimes in naiveté, and life meets us with its initiations. Some are joyful: births, breakthroughs, awakenings. Others are bitter: losses, endings, ego deaths. But always, each encounter offers an alchemical flame. We are not here to avoid shadow—we are here to integrate it. To walk with it. To speak with it, dance with it, and ultimately, to transmute it. To reclaim the golden hidden in our shadow self.

The archetypes of the Tarot help us do this. They are not just cards to lay on a table and interpret—they are experiences to live through, to wrestle with, to become. Each card has a place on the Tree, and each path it illuminates reveals a facet of the soul’s journey.

For instance, when I work with The Tower in someone’s reading, I know we’re dealing with a sacred dismantling. It may feel like chaos, but beneath the rubble, there’s liberation. The Tower path on the Tree of Life connects Netzach (emotion, beauty) to Hod (intellect, form). The message is clear: when feeling and thought are out of balance, the structure must collapse so something more authentic can arise. It’s painful—but it’s holy.

The Empress, with her lush fertility and intuitive knowing, walks a path between Chokmah and Binah—divine masculine and divine feminine. She teaches that true creation arises when polarity is held in dynamic balance. Her presence is a reminder to nurture life, in all its forms—not just in the womb or the garden, but in the heart, the mind, the spirit. Both heights and depths.

When I guide clients through the Tree, whether in readings or in ritual, I often invite them to choose one Major Arcana card that speaks to their soul in that moment. We place it on the altar. We call in its energy. And then we journey—not just with our minds, but with our whole beings.

One simple but powerful practice is to begin by lighting a candle. Hold your chosen card to your heart and speak aloud:

“I walk the sacred path of initiation. I open to the teachings of this archetype. I welcome its light and its shadow. I am ready.”

Then close your eyes and visualize the Tree of Life. Where does this card live on the Tree? Imagine it glowing there, a beacon calling you forward. Picture yourself stepping onto that path. What do you see? What do you feel? What challenges arise? What gifts await? Take your time and let it reveal itself beyond the intellect.

The key here is embodiment. Let the archetype speak not only to your mind and intellect, but to your body and its ancient wisdom. Where do you feel its energy? Does it manifest as warmth in your chest, a flutter in your belly, a tightness in your throat? Whatever sensations arise are clues, guiding you to places within that are ripe for healing, integration, and transformation.

Journaling after these journeys helps ground the experience. I often tell my clients to write not just what they saw, but what they felt. Dreams, images, insights—these are the breadcrumbs we follow back to the soul’s center. They often reappear in synchronicities afterward.

In time, this becomes a way of being. The Tree of Life, once a mystical diagram, becomes internalized. You begin to feel its pattern in your breath, your choices, your relationships. The Tarot becomes a living language. You don’t just read the cards—you become them. The Hanged One in times of surrender. The Lovers in moments of soul-deep union. The Hermit when solitude calls you home.

This is the true alchemy of the path—not escape, but embodiment. Not bypassing, but bridging. The Coniunctio: the sacred union of opposites. Spirit and matter, light and dark, seen and unseen. When we live this way, magic ceases to be something “out there”—it becomes the very fabric of our lives.

I often remind people that this path is not linear. You don’t start at Malkuth and end at Kether like climbing a ladder. The Tree is alive. Organic. Spiral. You will meet the same archetypes again and again, but each time at a deeper octave. The Fool returns, but wiser. The World comes round again, only to birth the Fool anew.

This is how soul growth works—cyclical, layered, luminous. The Tarot path, especially when walked upon the Tree, reminds us of this eternal dance. It teaches us that we are both stardust and soil, both myth and muscle, both human and holy.

So if you feel called, begin. The tools are already within you. The Tree is waiting. The archetypes are watching, ready to guide and challenge and embrace you. And the Fool is always ready to leap, to trust, to begin again.

The  Gold has always been yours. Hidden perhaps, but never lost. The alchemical fire burns not to destroy, but to reveal.

May your steps be guided by mystery.

May your path be sacred.

May your journey be true.