Two dogs howl at a frowning Moon, which is framed by two large pillars. A path leads between them, to the mountains in the distance. In the foreground, a crayfish appears out of a pool. 

 

The Moon rules a surreal otherworld of dark mystery, fantasy, and illusion, closely tied to the subconscious of the High Priestess and the drunken euphoria of the Devil. There is something very primal about this card, with our wild animal nature coming up out of the deeps to howl with the wolves. The Moon's light shines dimly on the haunted path: no clarity or rationality is to be found here. Nothing is what it seems. If the traveler surrenders, there's no predicting what will happen, and how the experience will change them. They can expect to be plagued by disorientation, irrational fears, alienation, deception and obscurity, overwhelming melancholy, the mind playing wicked tricks. They might experience a whirlwind of emotion; mood swings, depression. But they may simultaneously be inspired by intense creative visions. When our rational mind unravels, will the Moon drag us into the deep?

 

This is the land of poets and madmen. It represents the the Mr. Hide to our Dr. Jekyll, the Jungian Shadow of the self, that reservoir for human darkness. According to Carl Jung, the 'shadow' archetype embodies unconscious, often less desirable aspects of the self that the ego rejects. "Everyone carries a shadow," Jung wrote, "and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is." As we push these aspects away, they become more prone to emerge without warning and wreak havoc. Jung thought that we should learn to accept and incorporate our own shadow into one's personality. When our baser or animal instincts go completely unchecked they are destructive, but at the same time, we need them as a drive in our lives. Only by accepting the evil within us can we prevent it from harming and controlling us. Learning of the darkness inside ourselves also provides a basis for empathy with 'wrong-doers'. In his Red Book, Jung goes on a journey exploring his own dark unconscious self - taking that path disappearing into the distant wilderness - and finds it to be a spiritual and fluid place, "an ocean that could be fished for enlightenment and healing."