You know I love my tarot friends. (See? I love my cards so much I call them my friends.) But any tarot reader knows of what I speak.
We all cringe at the 10 of Swords (Ruin) and The Tower (Unexpected Upheaval), and I am personally and consistently plagued by the 7 of Swords (Deception). But all cards have a ‘flip’ side, shining a small matchstick light on possibilities, helping you toss around helpful ideas, or validating something you already know.
But then there are those times–silly you—just another day of childhood trauma, and all you want is some advice, some sage wisdom, or maybe just a cute ‘lil pick-me-up. And then they give you absolutely nothing.
“Tarot, what should I keep in mind while I strategize this plan?”
They give you The Moon.
“Plan?!” They exclaim, laughing maniacally. “You shall go forward in shadow and mystery, feeling your way as you stumble toward your desired destination.”
“Tarot, for my character, what could be the final experience or discovery that ends up being the catalyst for her betrayal?”
You get the Ace of Swords.
“A bolt of clarity, of course!”
Gee, thanks.
Lately, both my dear friend and I have been getting the Eight of Swords quite often. In my opinion, this is one of the most assholiest cards in the deck. I mean, look at it.
The card represents movement and change. But what kind of movement? Are the wands flying skyward in a future trajectory or falling to the ground in defeat? Are they arrows of battle or fireworks of victory? It’s like Pamela Coleman Smith, the artist herself, couldn’t even be bothered to add a character or scene to help us noodle it out.
It kind of reminds me of when I was the asshole.
As a life coach, my job was to help people smooth out the sticky parts of their lives. The best way to do that was to hand them the trowel. I could see the frustration on their faces as they pondered a question aloud, only for me to answer it with another. I would sit silently and let them rant and rage, offering no ‘solution.’ When they lamented and cried, I didn’t pat them on the back and say, “Everything is going to be all right.”
Honestly, I hated being in the middle of this. I hated being the asshole. That’s one of the main reasons I stopped coaching one-on-one and now channel it through writing and card-reading.
I even started a tarot reading once in which the client stopped me not long after I started and said, “I already know all this. When are you going to tell me what to do?” I promptly told her I wasn’t the reader for her, refunded her, and sent her on her merry way.
I get it. We all want easy answers.
Every once in a while, the tarot will throw you a bone and ‘tell’ you exactly what you need to hear at exactly the right time. But honestly, the most powerful and lasting solutions you get from it come when you challenge yourself to figure out WHAT THE HELL those cards are trying to say to you.
Unfortunately, aha moments and solutions to our challenges are far more likely to transform you when you come up with them your damn self.
Back to that flighty Eight of Wands…
Knowing this, I sat with the Eight of Wands a bit. I dug into different decks and their authors’ prescribed definitions of the card. (Referring to the guidebook of a deck is NEVER cheating as a reader, IMO…everyone has a unique take on the cards that can really expand their meanings for you.) Here are some wonderful takeaway prompts—some inspired by other Eight of Wands viewpoints, some from me:
· Are you transferring your energy in some way? How is that affecting you?
· What forces may be behind your motivations now?
· What moves you?
· What may be shifting?
· It may be time to focus on the journey rather than the outcome, and what it can teach you.
· Remember that great endeavors require motivation and enthusiasm—are you still passionate about what it is you are working for?
Look at all of those golden nuggets that flew out of that vague-ass card! All from a little digging and a lot of patience to sit with it and allow random thoughts and ideas to dance around my stubborn brain.
Whether you read or enjoy tarot or not, this is a great lesson for all of us. Sometimes, you learn a lot from an asshole. Sometimes it’s good to be one.
XOSusie
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