Welcome back to the Lab, where an ancient crone named Sibyl presides over two mouthy cartomancers and their endless supply of cards, questions, and irreverent commentary about both. Now, on the occasion of this brand new year, let’s get into it.

There’s something deliciously optimistic about January—that collective delusion that this will be the year we finally get our sh-t together. We make resolutions, buy planners we’ll abandon by February, and promise ourselves we’ll become entirely new people by spring. But what if instead of reinventing yourself wholesale, you had a guide? A symbolic companion to help you navigate the year’s particular flavor of chaos?

Enter the Tarot card of the year: a single card that acts as your personal theme, teacher, and occasional nemesis for the next twelve months. (Prefer to watch? We walk through this entire practice in our latest YouTube video—with personal card explanations and more hand gestures than a blog post allows. Check it out here.)

Unlike the rigid self-improvement industrial complex that insists you must optimize, hustle, and transform, working with a card of the year offers something more nuanced. It’s a practice that acknowledges you’re already in conversation with certain energies, patterns, and lessons—and that maybe, just maybe, leaning into them rather than fighting against them might actually get you somewhere interesting.

Why Bother? (The Case for Cartomantic Companionship)

Here’s the thing about having a card of the year: it gives you a lens. Not a prescription, not a prediction, but a way of seeing patterns you might otherwise miss.

Life is messy. It’s a tangle of decisions, emotions, obligations, and random Tuesday afternoons when everything feels either profound or pointless. A card of the year doesn’t clean up that mess—it helps you map it. It offers a symbolic framework for understanding what you’re moving through, what you’re being asked to learn, and what energies you’re swimming in whether you like it or not.

Think of it as having a theme song for your year, except instead of a catchy chorus, you get archetypal imagery and layers of symbolic meaning to unpack. (Okay, maybe that’s not as immediately gratifying, but stick with us.)

The practice is useful because it:

Creates continuity. When you’re working with the same card all year, you start noticing how its themes show up in different contexts. That recognition builds a kind of symbolic literacy—you get better at reading your own life.

Offers permission. Sometimes we need external validation to embrace certain energies. If your card is the Hermit, suddenly your desire to cancel plans and spend Saturday night reorganizing your bookshelf isn’t antisocial—it’s on theme.

Provides a check-in point. Monthly or quarterly reflections on your card give you a structured way to assess where you are, what’s shifting, and what needs attention.

Deepens your relationship with the deck. Spending a year with one card reveals nuances you’d never catch in a single reading. You’ll discover shadow aspects, unexpected gifts, and connections to other cards that transform your understanding of the entire system.

How to Calculate Your Card of the Year

The math is blessedly simple. You’ll need:

• Your birth month (as a number)
• Your birth day (as a number)
• The current year

Add them all together, then reduce to a single digit or a number between 1-22 (corresponding to the Major Arcana).

Example: Let’s say you were born on July 15th, and we’re calculating for 2024.

7 (July) + 15 (day) + 2024 (year) = 2046

Now reduce: 2 + 0 + 4 + 6 = 12

Your card of the year would be The Hanged Man (XII).

If your total is 22 or under, that’s your card. If it’s higher, keep reducing. If you get a number between 23-78, reduce it to a single digit or number within the Major Arcana range.

Another example: Born December 31st, calculating for 2024.

12 + 31 + 2024 = 2067
2 + 0 + 6 + 7 = 15

Your card would be The Devil (XV). (Condolences? Congratulations? Both?)

Special case: If you reduce down to 19, you get The Sun—which we’ll be using as our working example throughout this post, because The Sun is both deceptively simple and surprisingly complex, much like this practice itself.

Living with The Sun: A Year in Radiance (and Occasional Sunburn)

Let’s say you’ve calculated your card and landed on The Sun (XIX) (like I did!). Your first reaction might be relief—at least it’s not The Tower, right? The Sun seems straightforward: joy, success, vitality, that golden hour lighting that makes everyone look good on Instagram. (By the way, you’ll notice that I’m going a little bananas with the Sun imagery; call it a start-of-the-year tribute to my new companion. Anything to impress. ☺️)

But spend a year with The Sun and you’ll discover it’s not just about basking in good vibes. It’s about:

Visibility. The Sun illuminates everything, including the things you’d rather keep in shadow. This might be a year when you can’t hide—when your work, your relationships, or your struggles become more public than you’d like.

Authenticity. That naked child on the card isn’t wearing a mask or playing a role. The Sun asks you to show up as yourself, which is terrifying and liberating in equal measure.

Energy management. The Sun is powerful, but even the sun sets. A Sun year might teach you about sustainable joy versus manic productivity, about the difference between genuine vitality and performing happiness.

Simplicity. After the complexity of The Moon (XVIII) and The Star (XVII), The Sun offers clarity. But simplicity isn’t the same as easy—sometimes the straightforward path is the hardest one to take.

How to Work with Your Card Throughout the Year

Having a card of the year is one thing; actually engaging with it is another. Here are practical ways to deepen the relationship:

Create a visual anchor. Put your card somewhere you’ll see it daily—on your altar, desk, bathroom mirror, or phone wallpaper. Let it become part of your visual landscape so its imagery seeps into your subconscious.

Journal with it monthly. On the first of each month, pull out your card and write about how its themes have manifested. What surprised you? What challenged you? What gifts did it offer?

Notice it in the wild. When your card shows up in readings for yourself or others, pay extra attention. These moments often carry particular significance during your card’s year.

Study its correspondences. Dive into the astrological, elemental, and Kabbalistic associations. For The Sun, explore its connection to the sun in astrology (obviously), the element of fire, and the path between Hod and Yesod on the Tree of Life. You don’t need to become a scholar, but understanding the symbolic ecosystem enriches your experience.

Work with its shadow. Every card has a shadow side. For The Sun, this might include: toxic positivity, burnout from constant visibility, the pressure to always be “on,” or the harsh exposure that leaves nothing hidden. Don’t just celebrate the card’s gifts—wrestle with its challenges.

Create rituals around it. If you have The Sun, maybe you commit to watching the sunrise once a month, or you work with solar magic, or you practice radical honesty in one area of your life. Let the card inspire concrete practices.

Track its lessons. Keep a running list of insights, synchronicities, and “aha” moments related to your card. By December, you’ll have a rich record of your year’s journey.

Practical Applications: The Sun in Action

Let’s get concrete. If The Sun is your card for the year, here’s how you might work with it across different life areas:

Career: This could be a year to step into leadership, to let your work be seen more widely, or to pursue projects that genuinely light you up rather than just pay the bills. The Sun doesn’t do well with hiding or playing small.

Relationships: Authenticity becomes non-negotiable. The Sun illuminates what’s real and burns away pretense. This might mean difficult conversations, but also deeper connections with people who can handle your full brightness.

Creative work: The Sun is generative, abundant, and unselfconscious. This is a year to create without overthinking, to share your work even when it feels vulnerable, to trust that your unique light is enough.

Health and embodiment: The Sun asks you to inhabit your body with joy and presence. This might look like movement practices that feel playful rather than punishing, or finally addressing health issues you’ve been keeping in the dark.

Spiritual practice: The Sun represents enlightenment, but the earthy, embodied kind—not transcendence that escapes the body, but divinity that lives in it. Your spiritual work this year might be about finding the sacred in the ordinary, the divine in the mundane.

A Spread for Exploring Your Card of the Year

Now that you’ve calculated your card and have some sense of how to work with it, here’s a spread designed specifically to help you explore its themes and map your year ahead. You’ll want to have your card of the year visible while you do this reading—it’s the anchor point for everything else.

The Annual Cartomantic Companion Spread

Card 1 (Crown): The Gift
What is this card offering you this year? What’s the primary blessing or opportunity it brings?

Card 2 (Left Hand): The Challenge
What will be difficult about working with this energy? Where will you struggle or resist?

Card 3 (Right Hand): The Support
What resources, allies, or strengths will help you work with your card’s energy?

Card 4 (Heart): The Core Lesson
What is this card here to teach you? What’s the central growth edge?

Card 5 (Left Foot): First Half of Year
How will your card’s themes manifest in roughly the first six months?

Card 6 (Right Foot): Second Half of Year
How will the energy shift or deepen as the year progresses?

Card 7 (Root): Integration
By year’s end, how will you have integrated this card’s wisdom? What will you carry forward?

Optional 8th Card: If you want additional guidance, pull one more card asking: “What does my card of the year most want me to know right now?”

Take your time with this spread. Write down your interpretations, but also notice your gut reactions, the images that catch your eye, the unexpected connections between cards. Come back to it quarterly and see how your understanding has evolved.

The Long Game

Here’s what we’ve learned from years of working with annual cards: they’re sneaky. The lessons often don’t make sense until you’re six months in, or sometimes not until the year is over and you’re looking back. That card you thought would be easy turns out to have teeth. That card you dreaded becomes your greatest teacher.

The practice works not because it predicts your year, but because it gives you a symbolic container for whatever unfolds. It’s a way of being in conversation with your life rather than just reacting to it. It’s a reminder that you’re not just stumbling through the calendar—you’re moving through a story, and stories have themes, patterns, and meaning.

So calculate your card. Put it somewhere you’ll see it. Get curious about what it has to teach you. And remember: you’re not trying to master the card or perfectly embody its energy. You’re just spending a year in its company, learning its language, letting it show you something about yourself you didn’t know you needed to see.

The cards, as always, are just paper and ink. But the conversation you have with them? That’s where the magic lives.

Want to go deeper with your card of the year? We offer mentoring for folks who are ready to explore their annual cartomantic companion with fresh eyes and genuine curiosity. Whether you’re looking for guidance on working with your card throughout the year or want to develop a more nuanced reading practice, the Lab is here. No mystical prerequisites required—just bring your willingness to listen. You can book a session here.

More generally, this way of working is also something we bring to our most recent learning intensives: Myth & Divination with Danielle and Creative Marseille with Amelia. You can find more information here.

However you find your way to us, we both look forward to seeing you in the Lab!