This week, I pulled three cards from an oracle deck I've been exploring. One represented who I am right now. One represented who I want to become. And one represented what might be holding me back.

The first two made sense immediately. The Sentinel appeared as who I am right now: focused, steady, protective of the things that matter most to me. The Merchant appeared as who I want to become: someone who clearly understands the value they bring and shares it generously with others.

Then I turned over the third card: The Hunter.

At first, I didn't understand it. The accompanying guide described someone intensely focused on their goal. Someone willing to stay the course. Someone determined enough to ignore distractions and keep moving forward. I remember staring at the description and thinking, "Yes... and?"

That doesn't sound like a problem. If anything, it sounds like one of my greatest strengths — which is exactly why I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I've spent most of my life valuing focus. It's helped me build businesses, learn new skills, finish projects, and continue moving forward when things became difficult. When I look back at many of the things I'm proud of, focus played a role in getting me there.

Then I reached the final lines of the description.

And that's where the card got interesting. Not because I suddenly agreed with it—I didn't. My first instinct was to argue.

The more I sat with the card, the less I cared whether it was "right." What held my attention was my reaction to it. Why was I pushing back so hard? Why did this particular idea bother me? Why was I so quick to defend my focus?

Those questions turned out to be more interesting than the card itself. Once I stopped trying to prove it wrong, I found myself exploring an idea I never would have considered otherwise. Not that focus is bad. Not that I should abandon goals or stop pursuing meaningful work. But that perhaps I've spent so many years exercising that particular muscle that I never stopped to consider what it might be costing me.

I've always viewed focus as one of my greatest strengths. It's helped me build businesses, learn new skills, complete projects, and follow through when things became difficult. I still believe that's true. But strengths have shadows, and sometimes we become so accustomed to relying on a strength that we stop noticing the tradeoffs that come with it.

The Hunter card wasn't telling me to become less focused. It was inviting me to consider what happens when focus becomes so dominant that everything else fades into the background. If my eyes are always fixed on the next goal, the next project, the next thing to build or improve, what am I missing along the way? What beauty am I walking past because I'm so intent on reaching the destination?

I don't know that I would have arrived at that question on my own. It only appeared because I was willing to stay curious long enough to explore an idea that felt uncomfortable.

My first instinct was resistance. My second was curiosity. Somewhere between those two reactions, a much more interesting conversation emerged.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder if that's where many of our best stories come from. Not from certainty. Not from expertise. Not even from inspiration. They come from moments when we're willing to linger with a question a little longer than feels necessary. They come from considering a perspective we don't immediately agree with. They come from wondering why something caught our attention in the first place and resisting the urge to move on too quickly.

That's certainly where this story came from.
Not from an oracle deck.
Not from a card.
Not even from the interpretation itself.

The story appeared when I became curious about my reaction.

The card itself wasn't especially remarkable. What was remarkable was discovering that one of my greatest strengths might have a shadow I'd never considered before.
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Not because the card gave me an answer, but because it gave me a question.

And lately, I'm finding that the questions are often more interesting than the answers.

xx,
Amy

P.S. A few of you will probably ask about the cards in the photo. They're from the Citadel Oracle deck, which I've been having an unreasonable amount of fun exploring lately. I love the artwork, the world-building, and the way each card represents a different archetype or perspective. As someone who spends a lot of time thinking about stories, people, and meaning, it feels like a fascinating playground for curiosity.

You can learn more about it here.