It is Samhain season, when the veil is thin and our helpful ancestors have more ability to guide and support us. It is the time of bats, pumpkins, skulls- all signs of the dead. And for tarot’s The Devil card, which, far from being scary, is one of the most loving, subversive and liberating tarot cards. In this one card, we find two archetypes: 1. the horned god of the forest, who tells us we are worthy of belonging to the web of life and 2. a twist of that ancient pagan god into The Devil. But in that attempt to replace worthiness with fear and shame, we find a dual nature that shows us how to free ourselves.

Pointy eared squirrel holding a nut and facing down a tree. (And looking into your soul.)

The first time I encountered The Horned God, I was three days into a weeklong backpacking trip on the coast of the Olympic Peninsula. Three days of walking on wild beaches, foggy and fey sea stacks just beyond the waves. Three days of consulting tide tables to make sure we didn’t get stranded and drown while hiking around a rocky point.

That day was the day we miscalculated. There were sheer cliffs and tumbled boulders to our left, the rising tide to our right. I knew we were in trouble when we had to leave the sand and start rock-hopping because the waves were pushing us closer and closer to the cliffs. Small rocks at first, balancing on barnacles and slippery seaweed to keep our feet dry. It was okay though, because they were close to each other, we could step easily from rock to rock.

Then the tide rose higher. And higher.

It was hard to see around the curve of the cliffs. Were we halfway? More? Should we turn back?

Sea stacks surrounded by water and fog in the distance from a sandy and rocky beach.

We kept going. The tide pushed us closer and closer to the cliffs, climbing boulders now, leaping instead of stepping on the slippery rocks, 40-pound packs sliding when we slipped and scraped our legs down the barnacled sides.

Then it started to rain.

I tried to stay focused. I tried to just see the next boulder, the next leap. But I couldn’t help it. Over and over, in my head was the loop of regret, of should-have’s. Should have turned back. Should have left earlier. And under that, a deeper drum beat– Am I going to die here?

This is the gift and the work of The Devil card. It comes to us when our fears become self-recrimination, when threat becomes shame, a weapon we wield against ourselves. The Devil card turns our faces toward the trap, pointing not toward the mistake, the thing you did, but to the cycle of worry, the regret, the shame itself. And this card is the perfect guide to this working, because just as shame obscures belonging, The Devil obscures The Horned One: The ancient God of the forest who appears as a stag, or a man whose antlers reach and branch like old growth tree-tops .He is the child of the goddess, grown-up and in full sovereignty. He is king of the forest, is product of many lean winters, many bloody autumns, many celebratory Springs. He is change within the web of life. His birth is hope, his death feeds the soil.

He tells us we, our lives, are worthy… even when we are afraid. (Devil spelled backward is Lived, after all.)

This is good magic now. When so many of us, of our beloveds, of the people of this country and our world and our descendants have a right to be afraid. This magic begs us to recognize that fear is not our fault and shame does not help us heal or learn or connect, it only keeps us in a cycle of self loathing and isolation. Which is exactly where the Vatican (inventor of the idea of The Devil, ‘cause worthiness threatens empire) wants us to be. Wants you to be. This card says care for yourself: If you have a choice about your fear intake, remember to make room for healing. If you are caught in a cycle of should-have’s, forgive yourself. You did the best you could.

The Horned One is also the consort of the goddess – Her lover. Remembering that we are all worthy is the foundation for learning and healing together. And in that we see the power of this card’s descendent, The Lovers, card 6. The Lovers and the Devil preside over the turning point in a transformative journey, when the old self dies and the new self is born. Here, we remember that worthiness is our birthright and also that we need each other to remember we are worthy. This is the paradox of relational healing and also the gift of the Devil, our ancestors and the web of life.

I don’t know what would’ve happened on that terrifying, cold and grey day if we had turned back. The panic and self recrimination, the fear and what-ifs fogged me too much to measure whether we were more than halfway around the point when we realized the threat was real.

But I do know this: that when we made it past the cliffs and onto a wide, shallow beach, I felt born anew. I know that by the time we reached our campsite that afternoon, the rain had stopped, the clouds had parted, and I found myself at the mouth of a creek that poured down from ancient cedars and mossy Big Leaf Maples, with sunny stretches of sand well above the high tide line. I know that we pitched the tent, washed off the fear-sweat, naked in the salty water and as I dried myself in the sun, I got out my tarot deck. Shuffled. Drew a card.

Guess which one? Yup. Card 15. The Devil. In that Arthurian deck, it was actually called The Horned One. And that card was His announcement. Because as I got out my journal and began to write, the only sounds were the wind and the birds and the waves and the trickle of the creek …until I heard footsteps behind me. Slow and nearly silent. But I heard them and I looked up.

Walking through our campsite was an enormous stag. His massive antlers were far wider than both my arms outstretched. (And I’ve been told I have freakishly long forearms.)

He paused, I froze. Watched as he stepped slowly and with perfect calm toward me, then stopped again. Looked at me, a long, slow, deep, drowning-in-brown-eyes moment. And then turned and melted into the forest.

Encountering the Devil (Card)

✨ Am I burned out? Quick Quiz✨