Mini Catharsis
Small releases, surrender, and this week’s collective card reading
We often think of catharsis as a kind of intense spiritual experience. I picture Tom Cruise’s face at the end of A Few Good Men, baiting Jack Nicholson’s character into revealing his true colors. When we get the final payoff—“You can’t handle the truth!”—all the tension breaks. The thing that’s been building finally happens, and there’s a kind of glorious relief in it.
I’ve had the big moments of catharsis: a near-death experience, changing careers, getting divorced, moving across the country. Oh, how they all drip with spiritual cleansing. But to be honest, I don’t even feel like I can take credit for those things. They haven’t felt like choices—more like my intuition has taken over and I’m the navigator of someone else’s life until things settle back down again.
Part of being human seems to be how quickly we forget the spiritual cleansing and return to sweating the small stuff.
Lately I’ve been thinking about the types of catharsis that tend to unfold with less drama. The kind that move slowly enough to feel part of.
When my son was little I avoided taking him to the supermarket at all costs. Like most moms of neurodivergent kids, I begged negotiated with the universe to avoid daily public spectacles, and I was good at it. Managing his distress—and my own during the meltdowns—was a big part of my life, along with trying to stay one step ahead of it. With the right combination of naps, distractions, bribes, and consequences I steeled myself to navigate busy stores in order to buy food.
I remember the first day it all caught up with us. My son shrieking, hands held firmly over his ears like he had just hit a self-eject button. The stares and whispers were just as bad as I thought they’d be. He was little, but not little enough for this. I felt ashamed, trapped by my inability to explain the situation.
There was no sympathetic stranger nearby to give a meaningful look to, or covertly whisper that “he is overstimulated,” no maternal checkout person—just an annoyed teenager who seemed to want to be rid of us, but also to possess zero sense of urgency.
I had always thought that this would be the end of me. But after the eternity of a minute, all the emotion I had been holding in released in a kind of hysterical laugh-cry sound. The moment I had feared had come, and it didn’t kill me. Like a nightmare when someone is chasing you and you decide to simply turn around and face them. I felt stronger, freer. The tunnel vision faded, and with my head up I looked back at the staring strangers, challenging anyone to speak to us.
I walked out of that Shaw’s feeling like a new person. I had survived, and there was a sense of purification in that. This was our reality, and there was nothing in it to be ashamed of. Catharsis through embarrassment—still a win.
It’s freeing to stop trying to keep everything under control. I am a sensitive person, highly attuned to others. I’m aware not everyone feels this way. I shush Rachel in public when our private conversations get too loud for my comfort. I avoid passing by the dogs (most often black labs) that Jubilee likes to bark maniacally at.
I am still working on surrendering to the unknown in big and small ways. When I am feeling strong, I welcome this kind of catharsis—letting go of control in order to face fears, to experience something new. Anything can be a spiritual experience if we are present with it. People and situations become the spiritual teachers we need.
In the spirit of that, Rachel and I started taking a beginner yoga class over the weekend. Although I’ve practiced yoga over the years to varying degrees, I haven’t really been paying attention to what I’m doing, so a beginner class is perfect for me. Rachel is a complete beginner, but expresses no concern about being perceived.
I started out feeling strong, but eventually wobbled, felt my sweaty hands slipping, and fell over several times. At some point I went from trying to get it right to just breathing and moving. No longer wondering how I looked to others, just noticing how it felt to be inside the experience. A mini catharsis, making me stronger. The kind that comes when we stop trying to hold it all together and let it all come down.
That’s the place I come to the cards from this week—humbled and ready to see what’s next.
Here is our collective card reading:
(Scroll slowly if you don’t want to see the cards revealed before you choose.)
How this works: I invite you to take a slow, grounding breath and let your attention settle. When you’re ready, look at the three cards and notice which one, two, or three, you feel most drawn to. Trust your intuition. Then scroll below the photo to read the message connected to your card(s) and let it support you over the days and weeks ahead. As always, please take what resonates and leave the rest.
If you chose card 1:
Ritual
What routines in your life could benefit from being reframed as ritual? Ritual adds care, presence, and nourishment. With the word ritual, we make space for something more intentional, perhaps even something sacred.
You may take a walk each morning for exercise and simply try to get through it. Or you may move your body as a ritual, noticing breath, beauty, and connection along the way. This card invites you to bring presence to what you already do, allowing the ordinary to become meaningful.
If you chose card 2:
Express
What is waiting to be expressed? This card speaks to being seen in both big and small ways. It may be the truth you’ve been hesitant to say, or simply acknowledging something honestly within yourself. Expression doesn’t always have to be outward. Sometimes it’s naming what you feel, even privately, and allowing it to exist without pushing it away.
Through expression, we give ourselves the chance to be seen, but also the chance to be honest. You may not always be in a position to share openly, but you can still express inwardly what is true. From that honesty, a sense of freedom begins to emerge.
If you chose 3:
Evolve
What is evolving in your life? We all move through different versions of ourselves, sometimes gradually, sometimes all at once. If we’re lucky, we also get to witness those close to us evolving too. At times this brings us closer, and other times it creates distance, depending on where each path is leading.
We might evolve out of necessity or be active participants in our own growth. This card invites you to notice what is shifting, and to allow space for change, even if it feels unfamiliar. Evolution doesn’t always feel comfortable, but it is a natural part of becoming.
Thanks for being here.
With love,
Sheryl
P.S. I’m hosting an Evening of Spirit Messages this May. These gatherings are a gentle, shared space where I connect with the Spirit World and offer messages to attendees. If you’ve been feeling drawn to experience mediumship in a group setting, I’d love to have you there. You can find the details and reserve your spot here: An Evening of Spirit Messages
Mediumship members: check your email for a special offer.
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My source of inspiration in this newsletter is Rachel, who "expresses no concern about being perceived."
That sentence in your newsletter is so telling- Rachel to me is a symbol of self-care. There is a lot more to parse in your newsletter. I am going to sit with this one sentence for a while. It is so meaningful.