2026 Card of the Year: What would The Queen of Cups do?

Can The Queen of Cups be the antidote to the toxic masculine? Perhaps it’s the Universal Mother who is coming home to roost.

The New Year is often a time of transition. A chance to release the old, and burst into the new year with a renewed sense of hope, resolve, and new beginnings. But this year feels different. There is a tenderness to the heaviness in the air—one that suggests what lies ahead will ask for strength, while also offering opportunities to deepen into who we truly are.

It was with this tender hope that I pulled a card to represent the year, as I do every January 1st. And for 2026, I pulled The Queen of Cups.

Ideas about what this might mean began to surface the moment I saw her: emotional maturity, compassion, connectedness in relationship, being in touch with our feels—all qualities associated with The Queen of Cups.

There was part of me that wanted to jump on and share this card pull, but there was also part of me that wasn’t ready to come to a hasty conclusion. And so, I gave myself permission to allow The Queen of Cups to unfold her wisdom.

It did not take long for The Queen to begin to fill my cup with her message. With the violence in Minneapolis happening a mere week into 2026 my thoughts kept returning to that Queen of Cups that made its debut on New Years day.

As I read the news, feeling heartbroken and helpless, The Queen of Cups’ quiet voice arose and a question was posed from beyond my mind: What would the Queen of Cups do?

I let that question settle—not as something to solve, but as something to listen to, even though my mind wanted to figure it out.

As I sat with it, more and more I could see how the archetype of The Queen of Cups is exactly who we need right now. Because above all else, The Queen of Cups cares. And in recent times, when we look at the world stage, it can feel as though care itself has gone missing—as if everyone is acting only in their own self-interest.

And I don’t know about you, but this everyone-for-themselves attitude is really pissing me off. And clearly, it’s also pissing off the people of Minneapolis.

And all this rage and grief wants to show us something. These emotions ruled by The Queen of Cups show us that we, as a people, deeply care — about humanity, about fairness and justice (borrowed from her sister, The Queen of Swords), and about what happens to our neighbors. And what we’re witnessing in Minnesota, amidst the violence, is hope — and that the beautiful people of Minnesota’s fight back shows us that other people also care, that not everyone is solely out for themselves.

Perhaps it’s because I’m an immigrant, and a daughter of a mother who fled authoritarian China, I feel a sense of futility sometimes. That belief that nothing can truly be changed, that survival means running, leaving, accepting that power is too great to resist. And maybe, in some ways, that fear isn’t unfounded; because sometimes that is the only option. But it also feels as though here in the US, we’ve reached a turning point, where the care we hold deep inside has begun to transform. It has become a care rooted in human decency—one that compels us to stand up and fight for one another, even when the odds feel impossibly stacked.

An extreme-right correspondent said during the election, something like… “At some point, daddy’s gonna come home.” (And I can’t help but think of this ‘daddy’ as The Toxic Masculine.) And now that The Queen of Cups has appeared, she is the counter to that sentiment. She is the Universal Mother—not a figure of control or domination, but one of care. She leads through love, compassion, and empathy.

And at some point, the Universal Mother’s gonna come home. And she lives deep inside each of us. She’s the one who calls it out when someone’s action goes against the values of love. The one who shows us how to have empathy for one another, even when we are different. The one who teaches us that if you hurt someone, you acknowledge that hurt, take accountability and remind us to apologize. (AKA: emotional maturity)

And so, I ask you to ask yourself: What would The Queen of Cups do?

I know for myself, this will be a question I’ll be asking myself as I navigate this year.

Whether that is in my personal life, or in the bigger world. Because both are interconnected.

And right now, The Queen of Cups is telling me that it’s okay to cry. To cry for all that is hurting. To cry for the lives lost. To cry for the uncertainty of our nation. To cry for all who are scared and afraid. To cry for ourselves and honor our feelings.

The Queen of Cups who sits on the beach’s edge. One foot in the water of our emotions, and the other foot, grounded on the shore of reality. The Queen of Cups wants us to feel again. Futility can be numbing. The Queen of Cups asks us to be in touch with that part of us that cares, that loves, that empathizes, whilst staying in touch with reality, our values and the Light of truth — so that we’re not swept away by the overwhelm.

That is what The Queen of Cups would do. And she will continue to share her wisdom as this year unfolds.

May it be so. And I pray that it is.