There is a small pond near my home that I pass on my morning walks. At first glance, there doesn’t appear to be much happening. The water is usually still. Lily pads spread across the surface. Depending on the day, it can almost look stagnant.
But I’ve learned that the pond is anything but motionless. If I stop and stand quietly for a while, it begins to reveal itself.
The old snapping turtle might slowly raise his nose above the water. Once I notice him, others begin to appear. A head appears here, another there. Small bubbles rise to the surface from fish moving somewhere below. Insects dart around the lily pads, and during the warmer months, white and pink water lilies emerge among them.
And occasionally, if I'm lucky, I'll spot the Great Blue Heron standing along the marshy edge of the pond. He is remarkably patient. If I'm moving too quickly, I can walk right past without ever seeing him.
One morning recently, as I stood watching the water, it hit me: the pond is the tarot's High Priestess.
The World Beneath the Surface
The High Priestess is one of tarot's great cards of mystery. She is associated with intuition, hidden knowledge, the subconscious, and the truths we understand without necessarily being able to explain.
In the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, she sits quietly between two pillars with a veil draped behind her. No obvious action takes place. And yet, there is an unmistakable sense of movement beneath the quiet.
The pond feels the same way. What appears quiet on the surface is actually teeming with life. The fish are beneath the water. The turtles disappear below the surface as quickly as they appear. The roots of the water lilies descend into the mud.
An entire ecosystem functions below that seemingly quiet plane of water. The visible world is only part of the story; we only have to stop moving long enough to perceive the rest.
I think this is one of the invitations of the High Priestess. When she appears in a reading, our initial instinct may be to ask, Where in my life do I need to follow my intuition? Sometimes her answer is simply to remain still, observe, and listen.
Notice what keeps drawing your attention. Pay attention to the persistent thought that keeps returning. Sit with the uncomfortable feeling you have been trying to explain away. Allow a situation to reveal itself before deciding what it means.
Intuition doesn't always arrive as a sudden lightning bolt or revelation. It is usually much quieter. Sometimes truth surfaces only when we stop trying to force the answer.
The Patient Observer
Of all the creatures at the pond, none reminds me more of the High Priestess than the blue heron. He stands at the edge of the water so completely motionless that he seems to be part of the landscape.
But he isn't doing nothing. He is watching, paying attention to subtle movements beneath the surface. And when the right moment arrives, he acts with absolute precision.
There is a vital distinction there: stillness is not passivity. Sometimes the wisest choice is resisting the urge to force a resolution before we have full clarity. That can be difficult in a culture that endlessly rewards momentum. Make the decision. Send the message. Fix the problem. Choose a direction. Do something.
The High Priestess offers another path.
There are moments when wisdom comes not from action, but from deep awareness.
The Power of Stillness
The more time I spend at the pond, the more it reminds me of the High Priestess. It doesn't reveal itself all at once. I can't make the snapping turtle surface. I can't summon the heron. I can't see everything moving beneath the water.
All I can do is show up.
And wait.
Then, slowly, the seemingly empty pond becomes a world filled with life.
The High Priestess asks something similar of us. She doesn't necessarily ask us to look harder. She asks us to become still enough to notice.
