Six of Swords, Dickens Style

Little bit of a different take on the Six of Swords… not just leaving something unsatisfactory behind for a new future, but leaving something unsatisfactory to the extent of being dangerous … in favor of traveling to somewhere safe.

And the journey itself not being quite as serene as the card imagery depicts … but really emphasizing the choppy waters on the right of the craft … the journey itself being dangerous the whole way through.

And then … in the following story … the ending isn’t what you are traditionally told to expect in the Six of Swords. It’s a very Swordsie ending.

***

“And now indeed I felt as if my last anchor were loosening its hold, and I should soon be driving with the winds and waves. “
– Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens

***

And taken from Chapter 52 of the same:

‘I have thought it over, again and again,’ said Herbert, ‘and I think I know a better course than taking a Thames waterman. Take Startop. A good fellow, a skilled hand, fond of us, and enthusiastic and honourable.’

I had thought of him, more than once.

‘But how much would you tell him, Herbert?’

‘It is necessary to tell him very little. Let him suppose it a mere freak, but a secret one, until the morning comes: then let him know that there is urgent reason for your getting Provis aboard and away. You go with him?’

‘No doubt.’

‘Where?’

It had seemed to me, in the many anxious considerations I had given the point, almost indifferent what port we made for – Hamburg, Rotterdam, Antwerp – the place signified little, so that he was got out of England. Any foreign steamer that fell in our way and would take us up, would do. I had always proposed to myself to get him well down the river in the boat; certainly well beyond Gravesend, which was a critical place for search or inquiry if suspicion were afoot. As foreign steamers would leave London at about the time of high-water, our plan would be to get down the river by a previous ebb-tide, and lie by in some quiet spot until we could pull off to one. The time when one would be due where we lay, wherever that might be, could be calculated pretty nearly, if we made inquiries beforehand.

Herbert assented to all this, and we went out immediately after breakfast to pursue our investigations. We found that a steamer for Hamburg was likely to suit our purpose best, and we directed our thoughts chiefly to that vessel. But we noted down what other foreign steamers would leave London with the same tide, and we satisfied ourselves that we knew the build and colour of each. We then separated for a few hours; I, to get at once such passports as were necessary; Herbert, to see Startop at his lodgings. We both did what we had to do without any hindrance, and when we met again at one o’clock reported it done. I, for my part, was prepared with passports; Herbert had seen Startop, and he was more than ready to join.

Those two should pull a pair of oars, we settled, and I would steer; our charge would be sitter, and keep quiet; as speed was not our object, we should make way enough. We arranged that Herbert should not come home to dinner before going to Mill Pond Bank that evening; that he should not go there at all, to-morrow evening, Tuesday; that he should prepare Provis to come down to some Stairs hard by the house, on Wednesday, when he saw us approach, and not sooner; that all the arrangements with him should be concluded that Monday night; and that he should be communicated with no more in any way, until we took him on board. These precautions well understood by both of us, I went home.

The Aces

Every morning I sit on my sofa with my coffee and am blessed enough to be able to watch the sunrise out the front door. Sitting there, I realized that Ace energy is present every single morning with every single sunrise.

Not quite my view, but you get the idea. Could correlate with the Ace of Wands.

And I realized also, in a more visceral manner than the intellectual manner I had previously understood Ace energy, I realized it is also present in each new birth.

“My hair! I”m not ready!” My first thought was Ace of Cups, but Ace of Pentacles is very apt as well. The emotional aspect, as well as the birth waters, but Pentacles because humans are so tied to the earth, and every creation of a new human is a new earthly creation.

In each empty page before a writer begins to write:

Ace of Swords, Ideas

As well as every empty canvas before an artist begins to paint:

Another Ace of Wands, Creativity

9 of Swords

(italics mine)

“Guilty Conscience”- is a key phrase I never really connected with the Nine of Swords until seeing the above graphic after listening to the various parts in Great Expectations where the protagonist Pip is tormented by anxiety after committing some heinous (to him) deed that he was sure he was going to be punished for. The first glimpse we get of the Nine of Swords in Pip’s experience is after he has agreed to steal food and a file for an escaped convict:

from Chapter Two:

“My thoughts strayed from that question as I looked disconsolately at the fire. For, the fugitive out on the marshes with the ironed leg, the mysterious young man, the file, the food, and the dreadful pledge I was under to commit a larceny on those sheltering premises, rose before me in the avenging coals.” (Dickens)

***

“Conscience is a dreadful thing when it accuses man or boy; but when, in the case of a boy, that secret burden cooperates with another secret burden down the leg of his trousers, it is (as I can testify) a great punishment. The guilty knowledge that I was going to rob Mrs. Joe – I never thought I was going to rob Joe, for I never thought of any of the housekeeping property as his – united to the necessity of always keeping one hand on my bread-and-butter as I sat, or when I was ordered about the kitchen on any small errand, almost drove me out of my mind. Then, as the marsh winds made the fire glow and flare I thought I heard the voice outside, of the man with the iron on his leg who had sworn me to secrecy, declaring that he couldn’t and wouldn’t starve until to-morrow, but must be fed now. At other times, I thought, What if the young man who was with so much difficulty restrained from imbruing his hands in me, should yield to a constitutional impatience, or should mistake the time, and should think himself accredited to my heart and liver to-night, instead of to-morrow! If ever anybody’s hair stood on end with terror, mine must have done so then. But, perhaps, nobody’s ever did?

It was Christmas Eve, and I had to stir the pudding for next day, with a copper-stick, from seven to eight by the Dutch clock. I tried it with the load upon my leg (and that made me think afresh of the man with the load on his leg), and found the tendency of exercise to bring the bread-and butter out at my ankle, quite unmanageable. Happily, I slipped away, and deposited that part of my conscience in my garret bedroom.”

(Dickens)

***

“I was never allowed a candle to light me to bed, and, as I went upstairs in the dark, with my head tingling – from Mrs. Joe’s thimble having played the tambourine upon it, to accompany her last words – I felt fearfully sensible of the great convenience that the Hulks were handy for me. I was clearly on my way there. I had begun by asking questions, and I was going to rob Mrs. Joe.

Since that time, which is far enough away now, I have often thought that few people know what secrecy there is in the young, under terror. No matter how unreasonable the terror, so that it be terror. I was in mortal terror of the young man who wanted my heart and liver; I was in mortal terror of my interlocutor with the ironed leg; I was in mortal terror of myself, from whom an awful promise had been extracted; I had no hope of deliverance through my all powerful sister, who repulsed me at every turn; I am afraid to think of what I might have done, on requirement, in the secrecy of my terror.

If I slept at all that night, it was only to imagine myself drifting down the river on a strong spring-tide, to the Hulks; a ghostly pirate calling out to me through a speaking-trumpet, as I passed the gibbet-station, that I had better come ashore and be hanged there at once, and not put it off. I was afraid to sleep, even if I had been inclined, for I knew that at the first faint dawn of morning I must rob the pantry. There was no doing it in the night, for there was no getting a light by easy friction then; to have got one, I must have struck it out of flint and steel, and have made a noise like
the very pirate himself rattling his chains.

As soon as the great black velvet pall outside my little window was shot with grey, I got up and went down stairs; every board upon the way, and every crack in every board,
calling after me, ‘Stop thief!’ and ‘Get up, Mrs. Joe!’ In the pantry, which was far more abundantly supplied than usual, owing to the season, I was very much alarmed, by a hare hanging up by the heels, whom I rather thought I caught, when my back was half turned, winking. I had no time for verification, no time for selection, no time for anything, for I had no time to spare. “

(Dickens)

 

 

Ten of Swords

I guess Drama is just what I associate with the Ten of Swords, because I’m reminded of it again while listening to Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens.

And at some point I”m going to have to explore why there are so many swords in Great Expectations. So far – swords cards are all I”m reminded of. No other suits. Just swords. And I’ve got another post coming on a Nine of Swords connection now too!

In this scene Pip’s sister is working her way up into a hysteria, and according to Pip it’s VERY calculated the entire way through. Having been in similar situations, I will defend her and say it’s more likely she’s NOT as in control  of herself as Pip  thinks, and most likely is standing in the back of her own head, helpless to stop the momentum. In any case, still a decent example of drama for it’s own sake. 

(spacing / paragraph length differences and italics are my own to highlight the text)        

***

Taken from Chapter 15 of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens:

My sister had been standing silent in the yard, within hearing – she was a most unscrupulous spy and listener – and she instantly looked in at one of the windows.

‘Like you, you fool!’ said she to Joe, ‘giving holidays to great idle hulkers like that. You are a rich man, upon my life, to waste wages in that way. I wish I was his master!’

‘You’d be everybody’s master, if you durst,’ retorted Orlick, with an ill-favoured grin.

(“Let her alone,’ said Joe.)

‘I’d be a match for all noodles and all rogues,’ returned my sister, beginning to work herself into a mighty rage. ‘And I couldn’t be a match for the noodles, without being a match for your master, who’s the dunder-headed king of the noodles. And I couldn’t be a match for the rogues, without being a match for you, who are the blackest-looking and the worst rogue between this and France. Now!’

‘You’re a foul shrew, Mother Gargery, growled the journeyman. ‘If that makes a judge of  rogues, you ought to be a good’un.’

(“Let her alone, will you?’ said Joe.)

‘What did you say?’ cried my sister, beginning to scream. ‘What did you say? What did that fellow Orlick say to me, Pip? What did he call me, with my husband standing by? O! O! O!’ Each of these exclamations was a shriek; and I must remark of my sister, what is equally true of all the violent women I have ever seen, that passion was no excuse for her, because it is undeniable that instead of lapsing into passion, she consciously and deliberately took extraordinary pains to force herself into it, and became blindly furious by regular stages; ‘what was the name he gave me before the base man who swore to defend me? O! Hold me! O!’

‘Ah-h-h!’ growled the journeyman, between his teeth, ‘I’d hold you, if you was my wife. I’d hold you under the pump, and choke it out of you.’

(“I tell you, let her alone,’ said Joe.)

‘Oh! To hear him!’ cried my sister, with a clap of her hands and a scream together -which was her next stage. ‘To hear the names he’s giving me! That Orlick! In my own house! Me, a married woman! With my husband standing by! O! O!’ Here my sister, after a fit of clappings and screamings, beat her hands upon her bosom and upon her knees, and threw her cap off, and pulled her hair down – which were the last stages on her road to frenzy. Being by this time a perfect Fury and a complete success, she made a dash at
the door, which I had fortunately locked.

What could the wretched Joe do now, after his disregarded parenthetical interruptions, but stand up to his journeyman, and ask him what he meant by interfering betwixt himself and Mrs. Joe; and further whether he was man enough to come on? Old Orlick felt that the situation admitted of nothing less than coming on, and was on his defense
straightway; so, without so much as pulling off their singed and burnt aprons, they went at one another, like two giants. But, if any man in that neighbourhood could stand up long against Joe, I never saw the man. Orlick, as if he had been of no more account than the pale young gentleman, was very soon among the coal-dust, and in no hurry to come out of it. Then, Joe unlocked the door and picked up my sister, who had dropped insensible at the window (but who had seen the fight first, I think), and who was carried into the house and laid down, and who was recommended to revive, and would do nothing but struggle and clench her hands in Joe’s hair. Then, came that singular calm and silence which succeed all uproars; and then, with the vague sensation which I have always connected with such a lull – namely, that it was Sunday, and somebody was dead – I went up-stairs to dress myself.

When I came down again, I found Joe and Orlick sweeping up, without any other traces of discomposure than a slit in one of Orlick’s nostrils, which was neither expressive nor ornamental. A pot of beer had appeared from the Jolly Bargemen, and they were sharing it by turns in a peaceable manner. The lull had a sedative and philosophical influence on Joe, who followed me out into the road to say, as a parting observation that might do me good, ‘On the Rampage, Pip, and off the Rampage, Pip – such is Life!’

***

 

 

 

Seven of Swords

When I started learning to read Tarot, it was with the Sacred Circle deck by Anna Franklin and Paul Mason, and the primary keyword they chose to go with the card is

“Diplomacy.”

Franklin and Mason advise tact and diplomacy in dealing with situations if this card appears. In essence, to choose your words wisely in order to convey the illusion you wish to be believed. This scene from the novel Great Expectations by Charles Dickens reminds me of the Seven of Swords because it’s like Diplomacy Run Amuck!

Poor Joe Gargery is out of his element in this scene, and copes the only way he knows how, which is to fling every high sounding word and phrase he can think of around to use a lot of words to say very little real content. Kind of like the Dark Side of Writing. Joe is also trying to hide that he feels inadequate to the task at hand … like an animal puffing itself up to appear larger than it really is when it’s threatened. That’s where the tie to the traditional meaning of this card is – to

Deception

and

Acting Strategically.

***

And now for the Seen of Swords scene:

Sacred Circle Tarot by Anna Franklin and Paul Mason

‘You are the husband,’ repeated Miss Havisham, ‘of the sister of this boy?’

It was very aggravating; but, throughout the interview Joe persisted in addressing Me instead of Miss Havisham.

‘Which I meantersay, Pip,’ Joe now observed in a manner that was at once expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great politeness, ‘as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time what you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man.’

‘Well!’ said Miss Havisham. ‘And you have reared the boy, with the intention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?’

‘You know, Pip,’ replied Joe, ‘as you and me were ever friends, and it were looked for’ard to betwixt us, as being calc’lated to lead to larks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever
made objections to the business – such as its being open to black and sut, or such-like – not but what they would have been attended to, don’t you see?’

‘Has the boy,’ said Miss Havisham, ‘ever made any objection? Does he like the trade?’

‘Which it is well beknown to yourself, Pip,’ returned Joe, strengthening his former mixture of argumentation, confidence, and politeness, ‘that it were the wish of your own
hart.’ (I saw the idea suddenly break upon him that he would adapt his epitaph to the occasion, before he went on to say) ‘And there weren’t no objection on your part, and
Pip it were the great wish of your heart!’

It was quite in vain for me to endeavour to make him sensible that he ought to speak to Miss Havisham. The more I made faces and gestures to him to do it, the more confidential, argumentative, and polite, he persisted in being to Me.

‘Have you brought his indentures with you?’ asked Miss Havisham.

‘Well, Pip, you know,’ replied Joe, as if that were a little unreasonable, ‘you yourself see me put ‘em in my ‘at, and therefore you know as they are here.’ With which he took them out, and gave them, not to Miss Havisham, but to me.  I am afraid I was ashamed of the dear good fellow – I know I was ashamed of him – when I saw that Estella stood at the back of Miss Havisham’s chair, and that her eyes laughed mischievously. I took the indentures out of his hand and gave them to Miss Havisham.

‘You expected,’ said Miss Havisham, as she looked them over, ‘no premium with the boy?’

‘Joe!’ I remonstrated; for he made no reply at all. ‘Why don’t you answer—‘

‘Pip,’ returned Joe, cutting me short as if he were hurt, ‘which I meantersay that were not a question requiring a answer betwixt yourself and me, and which you know the answer to be full well No. You know it to be No, Pip, and wherefore should I say it?’

Miss Havisham glanced at him as if she understood what he really was, better than I had thought possible, seeing what he was there; and took up a little bag from the table beside her.

F.A. Fraser – An illustration for the Household Edition of Dickens’s Great Expectations (p. 48). Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham

‘Pip has earned a premium here,’ she said, ‘and here it is. There are five-and-twenty guineas in this bag. Give it to your master, Pip.’

As if he were absolutely out of his mind with the wonder awakened in him by her strange figure and the strange room, Joe, even at this pass, persisted in addressing me.

‘This is wery liberal on your part, Pip,’ said Joe, ‘and it is as such received and grateful welcome, though never looked for, far nor near nor nowheres. And now, old chap,’ said Joe, conveying to me a sensation, first of burning and then of freezing, for I felt as if that familiar expression were applied to Miss Havisham; ‘and now, old chap, may we do our duty! May you and me do our duty, both on us by one and another, and by them which your liberal present – have – conweyed – to be – for the satisfaction of mind – of – them
as never—’ here Joe showed that he felt he had fallen into frightful difficulties, until he triumphantly rescued himself with the words, ‘and from myself far be it!’ These words had such a round and convincing sound for him that he said them twice.

• taken from Chapter 13 of Great Expectations

***

To learn more about the traditional meanings of the Seven of Swords, click here: www.biddytarot.com.

 

Five of Swords

from Great Expectations  by Charles Dickens
(italics mine)

***

When I had exhausted the garden, and a greenhouse with nothing in it but a fallen-down grape-vine and some bottles, I found myself in the dismal corner upon which I had looked out of the window. Never questioning for a moment that the house was now empty, I looked in at another window, and found myself, to my great surprise, exchanging a broad stare with a pale young gentleman with red eyelids and light hair.

This pale young gentleman quickly disappeared, and re-appeared beside me. He had been at his books when I had found myself staring at him, and I now saw that he was
inky.

‘Halloa!’ said he, ‘young fellow!’

Halloa being a general observation which I had usually observed to be best answered by itself, I said, ‘Halloa!’ politely omitting young fellow.

‘Who let you in?’ said he.

‘Miss Estella.’

‘Who gave you leave to prowl about?’

‘Miss Estella.’

‘Come and fight,’ said the pale young gentleman.

What could I do but follow him? I have often asked myself the question since: but, what else could I do? His manner was so final and I was so astonished, that I followed where  he led, as if I had been under a spell.

‘Stop a minute, though,’ he said, wheeling round before we had gone many paces. ‘I ought to give you a reason for fighting, too. There it is!’ In a most irritating manner he instantly slapped his hands against one another, daintily flung one of his legs up behind him, pulled my hair, slapped his hands again, dipped his head, and butted it into my stomach.

The bull-like proceeding last mentioned, besides that it was unquestionably to be  regarded in the light of a liberty, was particularly disagreeable just after bread and meat.
I therefore hit out at him and was going to hit out again, when he said, ‘Aha! Would you?’ and began dancing backwards and forwards in a manner quite unparalleled within my limited experience.

‘Laws of the game!’ said he. Here, he skipped from his left leg on to his right. ‘Regular rules!’ Here, he skipped from his right leg on to his left. ‘Come to the ground, and go through the preliminaries!’ Here, he dodged backwards and forwards, and did all sorts of things while I looked helplessly at him.

I was secretly afraid of him when I saw him so dexterous; but, I felt morally and physically convinced that his light head of hair could have had no business in the pit of my stomach, and that I had a right to consider it irrelevant when so obtruded on my attention. Therefore, I followed him without a word, to a retired nook of the garden, formed by the junction of two walls and screened by some rubbish. On his asking me if I was satisfied with the ground, and on my replying Yes, he begged my leave to absent himself for a moment, and quickly returned with a bottle of water and a sponge dipped in vinegar. ‘Available for both,’ he said, placing these against the wall. And then fell to pulling off, not only his jacket and waistcoat, but his shirt too, in a manner
at once light-hearted, businesslike, and bloodthirsty.

Although he did not look very healthy – having pimples on his face, and a breaking out at his mouth – these dreadful preparations quite appalled me. I judged him to be about my own age, but he was much taller, and he had a way of spinning himself about that was full of appearance. For the rest, he was a young gentleman in a grey suit (when not denuded for battle), with his elbows, knees, wrists, and heels, considerably in advance of the rest of him as to development.

taken from www.study.com

My heart failed me when I saw him squaring at me with every demonstration of mechanical nicety, and eyeing my anatomy as if he were minutely choosing his bone. I never have been so surprised in my life, as I was when I let out the first blow, and saw him lying on his back, looking up at me with a bloody nose and his face exceedingly fore-shortened.

But, he was on his feet directly, and after sponging himself with a great show of dexterity began squaring again. The second greatest surprise I have ever had in my life was
seeing him on his back again, looking up at me out of a black eye.

His spirit inspired me with great respect. He seemed to have no strength, and he never once hit me hard, and he was always knocked down; but, he would be up again in a moment, sponging himself or drinking out of the waterbottle, with the greatest satisfaction in seconding himself according to form, and then came at me with an air and a show that made me believe he really was going to do for me at last. He got heavily bruised, for I am sorry to record that the more I hit him, the harder I hit him; but, he came up again and again and again, until at last he got a bad fall with the back of his head against the wall. Even after that crisis in our affairs, he got up and turned round and round confusedly a few times, not knowing where I was; but finally went on his knees to his sponge and threw it up: at the same time panting out, ‘That means you have won.’

He seemed so brave and innocent, that although I had not proposed the contest I felt but a gloomy satisfaction in my victory. Indeed, I go so far as to hope that I regarded myself while dressing, as a species of savage young wolf, or other wild beast. However, I got dressed, darkly wiping my sanguinary face at intervals, and I said, ‘Can I help you?’
and he said ‘No thankee,’ and I said ‘Good afternoon,’ and he said ‘Same to you.’

***

Traditional Five of Swords meanings  at www.biddytarot.com.

 

Works Cited

Dickens, Charles. Great Expectations. New York: Dodd, Mead, 1942. Print.

Waite, Arthur E.. “Radiant Rider-Waite Tarot Deck.” Smith, Pamela C., Designer,
(Reissued in collaboration with Miss Sybil Waite and Rider & Company, London),
U.S. Games Systems, Inc., 2003, Stamford, CN.

 

Manifestation Challenges

Some things the Queen of Pentacles reversed and the King of Swords upright have in common are themes of separation, of isolation from others, and of holding oneself separate, whether it’s conscious, or unconsciously done (Pollack). And it makes sense if you think about it. Upright, the Queen of Pentacles is immersed in the abundance and landscape and other beings around her. If you reverse that concept, she would be separate. 

Radiant Rider Waite

The King of Swords doesn’t even need to be reversed to voice this message – this King is already arguably the most aloof of all the Kings of the Tarot. Sadly, the Radiant Rider Waite deck seems to cut the two birds of duality out of the King of Swords‘ sky that the original Rider deck features. Because when discussing this separateness in terms of the King of Swords card, Rachel Pollack points out that:

“if the birds symbolize the mind’s ability to climb above the world they also symbolize the remoteness such an attitude can produce.”

One of the most common mistakes Light Workers sometimes make is one of becoming so immersed in the Spirit world or in our other origins that we do indeed become too disconnected from the Physical realm of this Earth, and from all the other energetic beings that reside in it with us. We forget that we are here for a reason – whatever our particular reason may be. And when we have forgotten our reason for being here, and allowed ourselves to become this disconnected from our environment, then we cease doing the work we came to do in the first place.

Original Rider card

We work really hard, using the power of our mental faculties, to achieve some measure of control of our individual worlds – and this very act of raising our focus above the mud and fray also sometimes raises us too far away from the very people and planet we wish to serve. Besides the fact of this remoteness sabotaging any personal manifestation work we may be doing. In the end, we serve no one, not even ourselves, when we isolate ourselves too much from this world.

Because Pollack also says that the Queen of Pentacles reversed speaks of being so disconnected from the material world around you, that you are unable to enjoy the blessings and prosperity of the same, and unable to even perceive them sometimes, much less enjoy them. If you look at the card reversed, you will also see the rabbit featuring very prominently at the top and upside down – like fertility turned on its head. If one is working on manifesting abundance in one’s life … well, you see how this energy could create a problem with that goal. 

One of the first, most fundamental building blocks of manifestation in the physical realm is the ability to, and practice of, FEELING and APPRECIATING all the wonderful things that are already around you, instead of focusing on what you feel should be there and isn’t yet. All the affirmations and reprogramming in the world will not replace this fundamental building block; it is one that MUST be tended to, consciously, every day. 

If you see the Queen of Pentacles reversed come up for you in a reading, and especially in readings concerning physical prosperity, this may be the message she is relaying.

See that rabbit??? Check out that rabbit!!! I can almost see the money falling out of its ears and away from us lol! Like a piggy bank being emptied into a hole in the ground! 

And if you see this Queen reversed and clarified by the King of Swords – there is a STRONG possibility these are the messages they are trying to relay to you.

If you would like to rectify the situation, Seventy Eight Degrees of Wisdom suggests these  steps to get back in touch with your environment and fellow earth beings:

1. Meditate with the Queen of Pentacles upright, to reconnect with her positive attributes.
2. Ground / Connect with the simple pleasures and satisfying chores of the natural world
   I would add from myself:

• Make time and efforts to socialize even just a little. Do something that gets you out and interacting with other people. 
  God help me if anyone that actually knows me reads this; I will never hear the end of it. But I am working on this too. I’m finally going to Tarot Tuesdays every  month, and I may even start hitting a Reiki share that’s also once a month.And going from office work to retail sales has put me back in touch with humanity in a REAL hurry! And I am loving that, but don’t tell anyone. (Cricket’s mom is doing similar).

I just thought that these two cards together carry a really important reminder for many of us in our spiritual journies. Especially if we are doing manifestation work. It never occurred to me before looking into this pairing, that an attitude of separateness could impact abundance manifestation work. But it makes real sense that it would. Something to look out for and be aware of. It would be a shame for anyone to do so much hard manifestation practice only to hit a wall because they forgot to open their eyes and look around them once in a while to appreciate what and who is already in front of them..

Make sense?

***

Queen of Pentacles traditional meanings

King of Swords traditional meanings

Works Cited

Pollack, Rachel. Seventy Eight Degrees of Wisdom. San Francisco, CA, Weiser Books, 2007.

Waite, Arthur E.. “Radiant Rider-Waite Tarot Deck.” Smith, Pamela C., Designer, (Reissued
in collaboration with Miss Sybil Waite and Rider & Company, London), U.S. Games
Systems, Inc., 2003, Stamford, CN.

 

Horses in the Tarot (Rider Waite)

Inspired by the Knight of Wands exploration, I went through the entire Rider Waite deck and pulled out the cards featuring horses that are in addition to the four Knights.

I found three. Interestingly, all the horses have riders and all the pairs are traveling in the same direction, to the right (and future?). Two are Major Arcana, one is Minor. The Minor Arcana card was of the Wands suit.  ALL the horses are WHITE. There is an object in the shape of an orb and in similar placement in all three cards: the sun in the Sun card, the laurel wreath in the Six of Wands, and … what is apparently the White Rose of the House of York, in the Death card.

Also interesting, is the fact that these three could easily symbolize the three major phases of our biological life span: Childhood, Adulthood, and Older Age. 

Lined up numerically, they would be:

Since the originators of the Tarot cards didn’t do anything by accident, this is interesting to explore as well. The numbers are 6, 13, and 19. If looked at still as the three major phases of biological lifespans, the Sun would be in the Older Age and Endings placement. If we think about it, our infancy and childhood really is the beginning of our biological decay – our spirits are eternal but the bodies we incarnate into are not, and they begin dying the minute the leave the womb.

I suppose Death could be feasible in the Adulthood placement too, as it is possible it is meant to remind us that our entire lives are illusions of life, and that as adults, we are in full blown Death phase? Could be.

And the Six of Wands in the Childhood placement. When a child is born, it is generally celebrated and heralded with joy and adulation. That is true. So even though the figure in this card is an adult, the adulation he receives could be said to be reminiscent of the birth of a new baby. So I guess that could make sense.

Horses generally symbolize Freedom, so freedom is a theme that will be found somewhere, somehow in each of these cards, as well as in the cards of the Knights:

Www.pure-spirit.com says that “Although the horse was present in many different cultures, they represent the same concepts of freedom and power.  In some cultures, white horses stand for the balance of wisdom and power.  In others, like Christianity, the white horse is a symbol of death.  The horse is a universal symbol of freedom without restraint, because riding a horse made people feel they could free themselves from their own bindings.  Also linked with riding horses, they are symbols of travel, movement, and desire.”

All seven of these cards do indeed do mark a transition from one sate of being into another. The Six of Wands takes a person from obscurity to acclaim. Death, from one plane of existence to another; the Sun, from darkness to light. And the Knights are all about movement and change within their respective elements and suits.

And finally, its interesting that there are seven of these cards. Seventy-Eight Degrees of Wisdom, by Rachel Pollack separates the Major Arcana into sets of seven with each set representing a phase of enlightenment while on earth.

Could this set of seven cards as a whole also be representative of something important in the experience of a soul?

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Knight of Swords traditional meanings

Knight of Pentacles traditional meanings

Knight of Cups traditional meanings

Knight of Wands traditional meanings

The Sun traditional meanings

Death traditional meanings

Six of Wands traditional meanings

Drama, Much?

So I”m upstairs on my hands and knees (not as exciting as it first sounds) scrubbing away at the Revenge Pooper’s (a whollllllle OTHER blogpost!) latest “SPOT” on the rug …

And I’m NOT happy about it.

This is like his 10th non-acccident.

I hate my house, family, pets, and life.

Fuck My Life, btw.

I stop to take a break and text my girlfriend of forty years Tamara Perrin Florea in Ohio.

“Do you ever wonder if maybe we are ghosts and that’s why no matter how much we clean, or how many times we clean the same thing, it never gets clean, ever? It just stays messy? If we are ghosts that would also explain why no one (kids, husbands, pets, whoever you have around you) ever HEARS us too! Maybe we’ve died but just don’t know it because cleaning is all we know and we don’t know how to stop???”

Radiant Rider Waite

This, my friends, is the Ten of Swords energy.

The Ten of Swords can be about death and endings, but sometimes it’s just about so much drama, or so much more drama than is necessary.

Please note the TEN swords this person has been stabbed in the back with, as opposed to the ONE that would have done the trick just as easily!

So the next time you’re doing something you despise doing and you feel really, really, sorry for yourself and bitter about doing it?

You’re communing with this Tarot card’s energy!

Disclaimer: no humans were hurt during this blog post, and I felt better the minute I texted my girlfriend. I felt so good I left the rest of the nefarious “spot” for another day, bought some moscato coolers, and called it a day!

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Ten of Swords traditional meanings