2026: Death + The Empress — Renewal: The Quiet Work of Beginning Again

Every year carries its own rhythm. Some years ask us to build, others to rest, and a few arrive with lessons so layered that one card alone can’t hold them.

When I drew Death as my guiding card for 2026, I felt the weight of it right away — the solemn honesty of transformation. Death has a way of standing in the doorway and saying, this part of you is complete. I could sense that something in me was ready to end, yet I wanted to understand more.

So I drew another card.
And there she was — The Empress.

The Empress didn’t erase Death’s message; she completed it. She stepped forward with soft hands and reminded me that endings are never empty. After the pruning comes the planting. After the release comes renewal.

That moment reframed the year for me entirely. Death would clear the field. The Empress would teach me how to cultivate it again.

The Word That Chose Me

For several days, I sat with the cards and waited for the word that would name this rhythm. My friend shared that her word for 2026 was Unfold, and I smiled — because that’s what the Spirit does when we’re listening. It sends little echoes through other hearts, reminding us we’re never walking alone.

For me, the word that arrived was Renewal.

It came like soft rain after a fire, like moss returning to a once-scorched stone. Renewal doesn’t rush. It’s not about reinventing yourself or chasing newness for its own sake. It’s the patient process of life reclaiming what belongs to it — of trust returning, breath deepening, and creativity finding its rhythm again.

Renewal is the season after the storm, when you realize the soil has changed, and so have you.

The Color of Renewal

This year, the color that holds this energy for me is Moss Green threaded with Gold.

Green for growth that emerges in the shade — humble, persistent, alive. Gold for illumination, the quiet warmth of wisdom earned through loss. Together they form the palette of transformation: the rich soil and the tender shoot, the light that glints through new leaves.

I’ve started placing these colors on my altar — a green candle for growth, a gold bowl for gratitude. They remind me that every ending feeds another beginning, and that beauty often starts in the places we least expect.

Living the Word

To live into Renewal means I must give myself permission to start small again. To tend the garden, to write slowly, to listen deeply. The Death card teaches me to release control; The Empress teaches me to trust the process of creation.

Together, they say:

Do not rush the seedling.
Do not mourn the compost.
Both belong to the same sacred cycle.

I’m learning that renewal isn’t loud. It’s steady and quiet. It hums beneath the noise — in morning light, in the first sip of tea, in a gentle conversation that reminds you you’re still here, still growing.

A Reflection for You

As this year begins, perhaps you too are being called toward your own renewal — a gentler relationship with life, with time, with yourself.

Ask yourself:

• What is ready to be cleared away so something new can take root?

• What part of me is asking to rest, to regrow?

• How might I nurture what is returning to life within me?

You don’t need to have the answers now. Renewal unfolds in its own rhythm. The soil already knows what to do.

The Practice

Light a candle — green if you have one, or simply a small flame to represent your heart’s steady glow.
Take three slow breaths.
With each exhale, whisper something you’re releasing.
With each inhale, welcome something that’s quietly being restored.

Then, rest your hands on your heart and speak:

I rise in quiet light.
I am nourished by what I release.
I bloom through what I tend.

That’s how Renewal begins — not in striving, but in returning.

Word: Renewal
Color: Moss Green with Gold
Guiding Archetypes: Death + The Empress
Hashtag: #firth

Awen Ovate – Listening for the Light Between Worlds