A note from the creator
This is a deck of 78 cards, each one a unique artwork created by hand. These paintings, drawings, and mixed-media pieces were part of a two-year art journey, during which I have grown as an artist and experimented with many different techniques. This led me to the idea of the Shapeshifting Tarot, a deck whose images contain a wide variety of art styles and references to many world mythologies and spiritual ideas.
An interactive object such as a Tarot deck is my way of communicating the experience of psychological identification with archetypes. Images filled with deep unconscious symbols can trigger certain reactions about our own position in life. The inherent randomness we are subject to in a Tarot reading is linked to the way I see art: as a mysterious and intuitive process that often ends up being ripe with unforeseen meaning.
To me, this relates to the way we are built as humans, out of a multitude of beings: the bacteria in our gut, the experiences of our past, the social constructions of our time. Through this project, I hope to add something new to the conversation, continually transforming the images that can get stuck in dogmatic tradition while bringing back and honoring old myths and symbols that still resonate today.
― Satin Bees
MAJOR ARCANA
The Major Arcana of the Tarot comprises 22 cards that represent universal archetypes and stages of life. The series opens with the Fool, a blank slate holding the potential for all that is to come. The Fool is also identified with us, the reader. As we progress on the journey through the Major Arcana, every card will be an encounter with a significant lesson or milestone. Each Major Arcana card embodies a mythopoetic truth, reflecting experiences and themes common to most (if not all) human lives. These archetypes, deeply rooted in the collective unconscious, provide insights into the spiritual and psychological aspects of our existence. Through the Fool's Journey, the Major Arcana offers a tapestry of wisdom, guiding us through cycles of growth and transformation.
0. The Fool
The Fool dances an improvised path through the branches of existence, transgressing all conventions, puncturing the posturings of our personas. This young trickster taunts us, making buried truths about human culture and its elaborate games come up to the surface, naked and bright.
On one level, the Fool is a reminder of our own absurdity, of the innocence of the child in all of us, and the ridiculousness of our endeavors when put in perspective. Yet it is also the force of pure novelty, a zero that hovers above the rest of the numbered cards of the Tarot. It is a leap into the unknown that awakens us to our true nature, and sets us upon the quest represented by the other 21 cards of the Major Arcana. The Fool is our relationship to the great mystery of existence, and the burning desire to explore it. To remember the riddle we were asked before we were born, we jump off the cliff of the known world, armed only with wonder and awe.
"If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise."
― William Blake
1. The Magician
The first numbered card in the series belongs to the Magician, a figure who stands for limitless will and unbridled creativity. His reality is one where light and shadow entwine in a delicate dance. The potential for creative innovation that is within all of us stems from a raw unconscious force. To become the Magician is to reach into those nebulous realms and bring something back; to navigate the imagination with the skill of a cave diver, reaching deep without getting lost. In its most positive manifestation, the Magician has aligned his internal rhythm to the pulsating, buzzing heart of the world. He is then able to move and create in tandem with it.
The word of the Magician is manifestation. In contrast to the pseudo-spiritual cliché this term has become associated with, manifestation here is meant simply as the act of bringing ideas from the imagination into the world of matter. This is something that takes place in art, ritual, and to a lesser and mostly unconscious degree, our everyday actions.
The shadow side of this card can be seen in cases of madness, or misuse of power; the schizophrenic and the cult leader, the false shaman and the charlatan. For the Magician can be at once genuinely powerful, and adorned with masks of illusion all the way down. The energy we tap into when we embody this card asks that we become porous and expose ourselves to a creative chaos that can never completely be tamed. To flirt with the strange and hidden sides of life can bring about enormous gifts, and they should be handled with care.
“The magician represents the one who has attained harmony and equilibrium between the spontaneity of the unconscious and the deliberate action of the conscious.”
― Valeting Tomberg
2. The High Priestess
A keeper of secrets. Calm, patient, receptive to the unknown. She lets the energy flow from below, understanding when the moment is right to let mysteries blossom. The High Priestess asks that we open ourselves to the intangible side of us; dreams, intuition, and the imagination. These inner waters constitute a rich source of guidance available to the seeker who goes deep enough. What has been called the collective unconscious is not just some elusive realm out there, it is encoded in our cells themselves. The Priestess calls us to turn inward and study the inherent wisdom in our bodies, and in this silent listening, we may uncover things previously blocked by the chatter of the rational mind.
In the image, a black snake and a white snake intertwine along the spine, encircling each energy center. This is a reference to Kundalini energy rising, and the dark and light serpents hint at the dual power of secret wisdom — black and white magic. Two pyramid-like heads look at the Priestess from either side, and a crescent moon resides above her head. The symbolism blends Vedic, Egyptian, and Western esoteric imagery as a question to ponder: what are the core truths about human nature and evolution behind all these belief systems and mythologies? The High Priestess offers no direct answer, but simply asks that we look further into the mysteries.
“Mystery is always personal. It envelops us; it addresses us as persons. Mystery is as present within us as it is out there. It is there when you open your eyes, and even more so when you shut them tight. Maybe it had us in its grip before we were even born.”
― Phil Ford & J.F. Martel
3. The Empress
The Empress personifies the desire within every living thing to grow and flourish. She does not ask us to rule the home, she invites us to relax and embody the home. She wants us to make our spaces sacred, to open and allow ourselves to be fertile.
Archetypally, the Empress resonates with Aphrodite or Venus: the goddess of love and lust, but also fertility and motherhood. She is the one who provides, who creates abundance. In this sense she is a development from the womb-like darkness of the High Priestess; a birthing into light and life and sexuality from the virginal silence of the previous card.
The Empress welcomes us on her lap, she delicately caresses our hair and she asks: “Is your body a soft place to land? Do you open the door to your own heart and breathe a sigh of relief, diving into the comfort of your own desire and sense of beauty?” And then she turns us into a garden where roses, wildflowers, fruits, roots, vines, and sunshine all come together over a potluck of celebration.
“The alternative to patriarchy and sky gods is not equal and opposite. It is not a patriarchy with a woman seated on a throne. The divine, although it includes us, is mostly inhuman. Mutable. Mostly green. Often microscopic. And it is everything in between. Interstitial and relational.”
― Sophie Strand
4. The Emperor
He sits on a ram-adorned throne, a symbol of Mars, atop a stark, barren mountain. His structure is that of a patriarchy that has now overstayed its welcome. This Emperor has clothes, but they are fading away. He is alive, but also dead. The blood that once flowed through the veins of empires is desperate to be redistributed, to give life back to the earth.
To see this card as entirely negative would be wrong, however. We must acknowledge that power has a place in the world, and in ourselves. The warrior-like strength and mastery that once allowed us to hunt and protect our home does not need to be synonymous with a domineering attitude towards others and nature.
In the image, there is an Ankh scepter in the Emperor's right hand, and a ball of light in his left, both symbols of life-giving energy. This, in contrast to the deadness of the rest of the image, represents what real power is beyond its uses as a tool of conquest. It is the ability to create, to expand and affirm.
We need the Emperor when we are building something. After receiving the gifts of the Empress, we use that energy to bring about our own project, our life’s work. The Emperor in its most positive sense means the cultivation of personal power in order to have as meaningful an impact on the world as we can, to individuate into our purpose.
“The measure of a man is what he does with power.”
― Plato
5. The Hierophant
He is the custodian of traditional beliefs, of established spiritual lineages and ancestral ways of knowing. To avoid the confines of dogma and orthodoxy, we can also consider the Hierophant as an advocate for individual spiritual inquiry. He invites us to engage in a personal quest for truth that is in a dance back and forth with existing traditions. The Hierophant's role is to provide a supportive framework, revealing the wealth of wisdom that exists in the collective.
He leads us into the center of the labyrinth, and allows us just for a moment to witness a beauty perhaps too intense for us to comprehend. The infinite game, the carnival of flesh and stars, the unfolding dance of Pan. Where all dualities fail and all experiences meet, at the hands of a darkly joyous being.
Some mysteries should be kept behind closed doors. The Hierophant knows this and shepherds us through, then sends us swirling back into the ten thousand edges of the maze. Exposed to this knowledge through personal experience, yet protected by the wisdom of those before us, we can then cultivate a spirituality that is both rooted in ancient truths and responsive to the needs of the ever-shifting modern world.
“The great cosmic illusion is a hierophany.... One is devoured by Time, not because one lives in Time, but because one believes in its reality, and therefore forgets or despises eternity.”
― Mircea Eliade
6. The Lovers
The various themes of the Lovers could be summed up as such: Self in relation to Other, complementary forces, coming together and separating, the breathing of unions and dissolution.
The characters of this card are playing in a love story punctuated by chapters of uprootedness and longing. The scene captured is a moment of connection before a separation, the imagination of the Lovers melding to project into each other’s absence.
Wrapping their ankles around each other’s backs in the Yab-Yum tantric position, the lovers’ sexual energies are simultaneously aligned toward mutual awareness. Both head to head, looking down to the earth, they breathe each other in and out, exchanging emotions, thoughts, choices, life force. This all happens in a brief instant of telepathy containing a multitude of doors, of possibilities and experiences that float, wide-open, in the interconnectedness of fantasy and reality.
This bittersweet scene is a playful revisitation of the cliché that ‘home is where the heart is’. When finding a home in another person, how do we find healthy detachment to survive the next instance of having to come back to rooting in our own heart?
The Lovers card asks us to consider what it truly means to choose another person, to give ourselves over to a connection, to bare our soul. It also highlights human sexuality and love as forces that mirror the generative power of the universe itself. The reason for the Tantric position of the characters is not simply that they are connecting to each other, but are acting as vessels for the creative polarities of the world to meet each other. This is how the resolution between attachment and non-attachment happens.
" The sexual drive leads us away from isolation. It pushes us to form vital relationships with other people, and finally opens the way to love. Through love we not only achieve a unity with someone else, but we are given a glimpse into the deeper significance of life. In love we give up part of that ego control which isolates us not only from other people but from life itself."
― Rachel Pollack
7. The Chariot
A card of forward motion and determination, but also one of safety and enclosure. This balance between pushing through and feeling protected is encompassed in the contrast between the black and white Sphynx pulling the chariot.
The driver’s armor is at once robust and tender; this is fitting as the card is associated with the sign of Cancer, the crab whose hard shell protects a soft interior. The Chariot is about proceeding forward daringly, but not stupidly, with the confidence afforded by having clearly assessed the situation. It is the ability to make courageous decisions based on a foundation of trust in oneself. In the image, the charioteer’s eyes are closed but his third eye is open, showing this ability to rely on one’s intuitive power. His scepter is adorned with the sun and moon, a balanced tool to advance on the road of life in accordance with its ebbs and flows.
The advice of the Chariot is to stay in movement, to orient towards growth and discovery, and yet to keep a pace that is manageable to avoid burning out. It calls us to find a way of proceeding through the events of our life at the edge of comfort, striving for a sweet spot between boredom and overwhelm.
This card also symbolizes the departure, in the Fool’s journey through the Tarot, toward a deeper stage of the process. After meeting the first seven archetypal forces of the Major Arcana, we now orient toward an exploration that is less self-oriented and has more to do with the greater patterns at work in the universe.
“The moon and sun are eternal travelers. Even the years wander on. A lifetime adrift in a boat or in old age leading a tired horse into the years, every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home”
― Matsuo Basho
8. Strength
This card symbolizes courage, resilience, and the power of compassion over brute force. A revisitation of the myth of the Minotaur, the image portrays a tender moment between the beast and a woman cradled in his arms. The Minotaur, typically seen as a symbol of raw, untamed power and ferocity, here appears gentle and protective. The two beings are locked in an embrace within a natural archway formed by entwining branches, a clearing in the center of the labyrinth.
The woman is not afraid of him, she is almost protecting him. She inhabits both softness and sexual affirmation. Her naked body is composed of many legs, suggesting several possibilities of poses. It is unclear whether it is her or the Minotaur who is in control of the situation, but they both seem to be accepting of the role each one plays in that game. This dynamic sheds light on the power of libido, of both life energy and sexual energy. It is showing us that it is exactly this part within us that can softly integrate the shadow, because it no longer stems from a place of fear or friction, but from one of loving firmness.
True strength lies in understanding and taming one's inner beast through sensuous empathy. Lust is a feeling we rarely associate with the natural world anymore, but many mythologies encoded this carnal way of interacting with the world around us. It is libido or life force in its rawest form, before it gets channeled into actual sexual activity. Being immersed in a natural environment that is constantly involved in this dance, it is a pull to participate with our own energy. This lust is sacred.
“Nature loves courage. You make the commitment and nature will respond to that commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is what all these teachers and philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering it's a feather bed.”
― Terence McKenna
9. The Hermit
A card of introspection, solitude, and inner guidance. The Hermit is adorned with a skull headdress in honor of the journey. It is a descent into the darkness of the self, seeking a truth that lies below the surface. The lantern, glowing brightly, represents the inner light that guides us through the dark, and ultimately the enlightenment found through introspection and contemplation. The snake coiled around the staff suggests the presence of transformative power and wisdom that can emerge from facing these shadows.
It is no easy task to travel the depths, yet there are periods of life where we are pulled to do this. And during this search, there inevitably comes a time when we must be completely alone. An echo of birth and death — passages which we also go through alone — the Hermit’s task is to tend to the light that remains at the core. It is the kind of insight that can only emerge in solitude; the voice that comes from deep inside and is unique to each individual. This voice can become our guide in everyday life, but for us to be able to hear it in the first place, a time of isolation is often necessary.
In this regard, the card also resonates with the archetype of the shaman, a figure who bridges the physical and spiritual worlds, often embarking on solitary journeys to obtain healing knowledge. The presence of the serpent around the Hermit’s staff enriches this interpretation. The snake, associated with kundalini energy in spiritual traditions, represents the latent power inside us. As the snake coils around the staff, it mirrors the rise of kundalini energy along the spine, symbolizing the raising of consciousness. This connection underscores the Hermit’s role as a spiritual guide and healer who, after diving deep into the self, harnesses these newly gained insights to help others. The advice of this card is to recognize when this call appears, and to make room for a period of deep self-discovery. We may then be able to trust the inner guidance that emerges to carry us along the rest of the journey.
"Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes."
― Carl Jung
10. The Wheel of Fortune
This card combines the imagery of the traditional Tarot wheel with the figure of Nataraja, who represents the Hindu god Shiva in his form as the “cosmic dancer." There is a strong connection between this deity weaving the universe into being through his dance, and the concepts of fate and time brought up by the Wheel of Fortune.
This circular pattern of the unfolding of creation is a common one, found in countless mythologies. But its personification as a dancer is an important distinction; this performance is not a dead and meaningless one, rather it has an intelligent and even playful consciousness.
That being said, the movement of the Wheel is amoral. It goes through the seasons and the phases of life and decay with unflinching perpetual motion. The world that unfolds is one that calls us to experience everything there is, from suffering to joy, darkness to light. We, infinite fragments of this cosmic dance, are simply asked to play the game. In a sense, we must go through it all so that it may understand itself.
So the Wheel of Fortune calls us to remember and embrace these inevitable extremes. Change, randomness — these are inherent to the fabric of existence. Yet we tend to push them out of everyday consciousness as often as possible. Fear of change seems to be built into us, but there is work we can do to ease it a little. By remembering the Wheel, we can soften the grip on our experience and allow the natural motion to occur, even when it doesn’t match our expectations. There are much larger cycles at play than our individual lives, and yielding to that truth can help us become aligned with the randomness at play.
“You are the origin without beginning, middle or end. You have numberless arms, and the sun and moon are among your great unlimited eyes. Although you are one, you are spread throughout the sky and the planets and all space between. I am afraid. Lord of lords, so fierce of form, please tell me who you are. The god said: "I am Time, destroyer of the worlds.”
― Bhagavad Gita
11. Justice
In Egyptian mythology, the heart of the deceased is weighed on a scale against the feather of the goddess Maat, who personifies truth, balance, order and harmony. A heart that is lighter than a feather is aligned with what is ‘just’, a moral quality we sense in the universe itself that is beyond human logic or subjectivity. This idea of justice is akin to karma, a deep sense of rightness in the waves of cause and effect that permeate the natural workings of the world. It is this idea, rather than an ethical code of conduct prescribed by human authorities, that constitutes the meaning of this card.
In the image, Justice is blind in the physical sense, her eyes being literally torn out. Yet her third eye is wide open and glowing, signifying a transcendent understanding of truth. It is the knowledge we have inside each of us of what is really going on, underneath all our games and patterns. There is an undeniable feeling that arises when we are in right relationship with the world. When we are out of it, it is never too long before we feel the sting of Justice’s sword in whatever way it chooses to show up, whether it is stuckness, misfortune or guilt.
Justice here is not a punitive force; it is a compass and a feedback mechanism. This is also a core idea in Taoist philosophy. The Tao — the balance of the universe — lets us know more or less subtly when we are out of tune, and gives us an opportunity to realign ourselves to it.
“Justice in the modern world is often viewed as a contract, an agreement forged between human beings rather than something inherent to the natural world. And yet, for many cultures and traditions, justice is seen as a living presence, as the actual dynamic flow of cause and effect that serves to keep a larger natural balance.“
― Joshua Schrei
12. The Hanged Man
This card speaks of an illumination provoked by a reversal. The figure in the image resembles a circus performer doing a trick, flipping upside down while his legs are held by chains. His reversal is a snapshot in the middle of a movement, a pause that happens for just a brief instant in time.
When we need a change of perspective, this Hanged Man reminds us that the pause that provokes it does not necessarily have to be long. Sometimes just a short and intense connection to the feeling is enough, a flash of insight in the middle of a familiar movement. In this moment what becomes important is not the action itself but the effect it has — the fluid that flows through the body to the head, an expansion of the mind.
The chains symbolize that sometimes we are forced into this kind of moment by life circumstances, by not being able to do what we usually do. An example of this is an injury, where we find ourselves unable to use our energy in the usual ways and are compelled to redirect it. This can lead to unforeseen discoveries, perhaps using this energy in creative ways to unlock things we normally wouldn't have undertaken. And we find that this is often what our true self wants, as highlighted by the DNA strands in the background of the image.
It is in our nature to have periods of cocooning in order to grow, just as a caterpillar needs to pass through the phase of the chrysalis to become a butterfly. Despite the chains, the Hanged Man is also tied to a living structure, adorned with plants that feed him during the time of immobility. It is a reminder to trust that in those instances of forced surrender, we are held by an intelligence we usually cannot logically comprehend. The eyes all over the figure’s body reinforce this, suggesting that the reversal allows the Hanged Man to see things not with his brain but with every particle of his body. The pause makes us sensuous, open to new pathways of receptivity that constant action can sometimes block.
The theme of sacrifice is also present. In Norse mythology, the tale of Odin hanging upside down from the World Tree serves as a parallel to this side of the Hanged Man. The god Odin sought wisdom and knowledge through self-sacrifice, giving up comfort and normalcy for nine days of hanging, and this allowed him to gain insight into Runes. This myth reflects the idea that sometimes growth can only be attained through sacrifice — a reversal of the outer quest into an inner one.
“A creature that hides and “withdraws into its shell,” is preparing a “way out.” This is true of the entire scale of metaphors, from the resurrection of a man in his grave, to the sudden outburst of one who has long been silent. If we remain at the heart of the image under consideration, we have the impression that, by staying in the motionlessness of its shell, the creature is preparing temporal explosions, not to say whirlwinds, of being.”
― Gaston Bachelard
13. Death
This card proposes a new relationship with entropy, the impulse toward decay that is part of every living thing. It asks us to accept that the intelligence of this world is keen to continue playing games of destruction and regeneration, independent of the will of our individual egos.
In the image, two bodies are holding each other, as we all must learn to do in the face of knowing our inevitable fate. In this sense, the card is as much about the grief of those left behind as it is about the journey of the ones leaving. The dying body lies in complete abandon, surrendering to its fate as its limbs are being pulled into the earth. It is the transition of leaving the world of the known, loved ones, our own identity, all of it behind.
Death is a bringer of freedom on a level we can’t understand, and thus we make it our enemy. We resist with all our might the fact that we are a structure of molecules and ideas that have swarmed and glued together. Our daily lives are so far removed from the original primal scream of orgasmic life that we are like an alien wave to the ocean of its womb. Lost in the complexity of ways to express the essential: create, destroy, flourish, compost.
The colors of the card reflect this process. Red for the gruesome quality of the event of death itself. White represents the bones, the blankness, the emptiness of death. And green, because it also leads us back to the cycle, to rebirth. As our bodies dissolve, our cells will become food for new life to take root. The moment will come when the candles of personality will be fuming out, a low smoke whispering, at last quiet, reunited. Death is a doorway.
“Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.”
― Mary Elizabeth Frye
14. Temperance
This card, coming immediately after Death in the sequence, is one of grace and renewal, rebalancing and integration. There is an upward movement to the position of the woman, rising after the descent brought by symbolic death. Here we are finding a new state of being that is more in harmony.
Temperance is an angel, and in this image she does not have wings, but she is creating them through the movement of her arms. In a sense, she is shapeshifting into the angel, enacting that archetype through intentional embodiment. She is looking at us with one eye open, one eye closed, a cosmic wink teaching us the equilibrium of contemplation and action.
She has found a balance between the lesson of death and remaining in life. Both sides are integrated, symbolized by the dead and the living bird on each side of her face – looking at each other.
The constellation of Sagittarius, the sign of the traveling archer associated with this card, is found in her breast. Sagittarius is a centaur who in mythology plays the role of the wounded healer. Having gone through the transformative wounding of the Death card, we are now asked to put those lessons to use in life-giving ways.
In the woman’s right arm, plants are growing out of chains shaped like DNA. Nature is outgrowing all the ancestral history and epigenetic trauma patterns, showing how the death process made room for the new to emerge.
Temperance is a call to recenter ourselves in the midst of all of our drives — the dance of life and death, creation and destruction. It asks us to reflect on where we stand in the face of it all; whether we can use the gifts we have received and the lessons learned in service of what we sense in our hearts to be good, whenever it is possible. Only in this space of equanimity — of temperance — do we have the clarity to truly see this, and act from a place of unburdened will.
“All the natural movements of the soul are controlled by laws analogous to those of physical gravity. Grace is the only exception. Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes this void.”
― Simone Weil
15. The Devil
This card is about what chains us and, paradoxically, what sets us free. It is the god of destructive desire and overwhelming ecstasy. Drinking at fountains of everything, rapacious…
The Devil’s placement after the Temperance card reinforces that it is truly a conscious act, after having known the light, to let this dark energy in. The Devil is choice itself: the capacity we have as humans to look away from truth and love for a moment, and engage in novelty-generating chaos. When we connect to him, we become the submissive partner of a force that does not care about sanity, but only wants to bring something new into the world.
This force finds the cracks in us, and expands them until we are truly porous. It wants us to forget our name and to expose our raw belly. It turns our insides into an artistic jungle, and throws out our drained body in the gutter like an empty beer can.
This old trickster brings the vertiginous realization that morality is a human abstraction. We are reminded that there is the seed for real evil in every person, but that this brutal potential can be redirected into wildly creative activities. Working with impulses and facing our shadow will determine whether we are successful at this channeling.
“It was, indeed, an exquisite symbol beneath which men long ago veiled their knowledge of the most awful, most secret forces which lie at the heart of all things. Such forces cannot be named, cannot be spoken, cannot be imagined except under a veil and a symbol. But you and I, at all events, have known something of the terror that may dwell in the secret place of life, manifested under human flesh; that which is without form taking to itself a form.”
― Arthur Machen
16. The Tower
A moment of sudden upheaval, chaos, and dismantling of old structures. The Tower represents the breakdown of illusions and false foundations. The image of circus performers stacking themselves into a human tower illustrates the intricate and often precarious balance of life and the constructs we build, whether they be physical, emotional, or spiritual.
The festivities culminate in a lightning bolt that cuts through all weaknesses and illusions. As the tower of bodies starts to collapse, the fragility of all constructs comes to light along with the inevitability of change and disruption. The masks fall off, the finite games cease and the infinite game resumes. The collapse, though chaotic and frightening, is necessary for transformation.
The card speaks to a moment of destruction in our lives that makes room for the new. Often only the painful upheaval of the familiar can clear out deeply entrenched patterns that have overstayed their welcome. We could say it is even the natural trajectory of situations that are misaligned with our true self to lead to a point of breakdown. We see this in burnout from work, rock bottom from addiction, long overdue breakups, etc. The longer we hold on to the false sense of security provided by rotting foundations, the harder the fall will be.
So after the dust has settled, we look at what is left in the wreckage; what ground can we still find to stand on? Perhaps, instead of building a new tower right away, we can turn our attention downward for a while. We can stay and explore the turtle’s back.
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.”
― Leonard Cohen
17. The Star
This is a card of freedom and destiny. Whatever we have done in this life, however we have chosen to block ourselves off from our true nature, a hope remains intact behind those walls. In spite of all the destruction, beyond our frantic will to death... there is a core light that cannot be extinguished. It is the seed inside us that resonates with something great and mysterious, the acorn that has inside it the intelligence to become an oak tree. This is the message of the woman dancing under the stars, on the bank of a current that flows from above into the realm below and back again, eternally.
Each one of us is at the center of our own universe, self-luminous. There is inherent value in the individual, independent of external circumstances. And yet each one is part of the interwoven whole, a star among stars in the night sky. It is a realization that can be empowering and humbling at the same time. This seeming contradiction resolves in the feeling that we know our place in this world, and don’t project it to be any more or less than it is.
The woman in the card is naked, graceful, her movements are expansive and free. She creates the tapestry of the landscape with wine and gasoline, substances that have great life-giving power, and also the potential to poison and destroy. She asks us to spend time in the wreckage left by the previous card, the Tower, and find what is left at the core of our being. There we can find the raw materials that constituted our past self and alchemize them, reorienting toward a path of freedom and alignment with our true purpose.
“Each life is formed by its unique image, an image that is the essence of that life and calls it to a destiny. As the force of fate, this image acts as a personal daimon, an accompanying guide who remembers your calling.”
― James Hillman
18. The Moon
A card of dark realizations and luminous nights.
We are, somehow, no less awake at night than we are during the day; only our sense of self is different. Some have ventured into calling 'dream body' this other self we become at night, to go through all of the ethereal, darkly colorful unconscious processes that characterize that whole third of our lives.
Why would nature design sleep as an integral part of a biological organism's existence? This pulsing duality that permeates our reality... inhale-exhale, awake-asleep, alive-dead. The constant cycle of opposites has a profound quality that is echoed throughout the cosmos.
Certain psychedelic medicines, when done at night, allow us to peer into the deeply mysterious mechanisms that go on inside of us when we sleep. The unconscious is made available in those moments, the building blocks of our synapses infused with the energy of the connection that remains between our DNA and the earth itself.
The great mother feeds us at night, and we are normally blind to it, the dream self mostly forsaken by the time we wake up. We rise with a forgetfulness akin to the great amnesia we suffer as a species, the seemingly inescapable ignorance of our interconnectedness. Sleep is but another reminder of the curious cycle we are tied to our whole lives — this dance of opposites that drives nature.
The Moon is a call to awaken to our night self. It gently steers us away from the culture’s obsession with Appolonian rationality, and towards a confrontation with our shadow in the mirror of the night.
“The moon only ever flirts with fullness or emptiness for a brief, tenuous moment before slipping into change. Here is our blended, androgynous Dionysus. Wine-drunk, love-swollen, wind-swept, in ecstatic union with the holy, the moon encourages us to dissolve our edges rather than affirm them. Lunar knowledge keeps us limber. Keeps us resilient. Awe, whether somatic or spiritual, transforms us.”
― Sophie Strand
19. The Sun
This card represents life force in its purest form. It is the substance that precedes all movement, the light that is necessary for all growth. The Sun looks at us with its blinding, impassive face and asks: “What will you do with all this power?”. It is the raw energy we are gifted as children, before it becomes progressively blocked by the rules, responsibilities and traumas inherent in the process of growing up.
The Sun reminds us that access to this burning vitality is still possible. This card comes late in the Major Arcana, almost at the end of the series. After all the work, purification and decluttering, it now asks that we let ourselves rest and play. To come back to basics and enjoy the fruits of life, to bask in the glow of awe and wonder at the simple fact of being alive. This is what makes the pure energy of childhood rise again through our bodies and shine through our actions, as outwardly serious as they may be. Not forgetting the dark, but having integrated it, we slowly open our eyes to the fact that this short time on earth is to be enjoyed.
“Under the Sun everything becomes simple, joyous and physical. The light of the unconscious brought into daily life. The sunstruck person feels a sense of wisdom, of seeing everything with total clarity. He or she is 'lucid', a word which means clear and direct, but which literally means 'filled with light'.
― Rachel Pollack
20. Judgement
This card speaks of a spiritual awakening, a transformative moment where we are summoned to rise beyond ourselves and embrace a higher purpose. The figure at the center, bathed in light and lifting their arms toward the sky, recalls the traditional depiction of the Judgement card where characters are rising from their graves, answering the call of the angel's trumpet. Here it is the beams of light converging on the central figure's raised hands that suggest a connection to divine energy. Surrounding the central figure are shadowy forms latching on, the remnants of old selves and unresolved aspects that are now being integrated through the process.
The horns adorning the head of the rising figure are a reference to the integration of these darker parts. It is the reconciliation of the Devil’s energy with the light, the lifting of the veil that separates the two. This card is tied to the archetype of resurrection, which symbolizes the raising of consciousness above the dualities of light and dark, life and death, and seeing their underlying unity.
The task is to let this be more than just a theoretical understanding, and let it permeate our lives. As the penultimate card in the series, Judgement is a call to take everything we have learned so far and let it be “tested” by life. That is to say, to make ourselves of service. What is all the spiritual, psychological work good for if it does not translate to meaningful action? To align ourselves to a higher calling is to emerge from the maze of personality, and to face the world by asking it what it truly needs.
“To be enlightened is to be aware, always, of total reality in its immanent otherness - to be aware of it and yet remain in a condition to survive as an animal. Our goal is to discover that we have always been where we ought to be.”
― Aldous Huxley
21. The World
This card is the last of the series, and encompasses all the others. We find ourselves at the end of a cycle, and simultaneously at the beginning of a new one. This is the symbolism of the ouroboros, the serpent eating its own tail, encircling the dancer. Eternal return, the neverending story of the play of life. In each corner is a different creature, the guardians of each suit of the Tarot, the fauna mandala that keeps the interplay of the four elements alive.
The central figure’s body is a fractal reflection of the great body of the world. Her legs are the birds that soar in the sky. Her arms are the snakes that crawl in the deep belly of the earth. Her chest is a starry night in the boreal forests, her eyes are the sun and the moon. She holds a white wand and a black wand that mirror the balance of day and night behind her, the latter of which is illuminated with the twelve constellations of the Zodiac. Her spine is punctuated by all the chakras; the developmental journey of a human being, a species, a planet, a universe. As within, so without.
And as the World has been danced into being, so it will be enjoyed through a dance; through whirls and transformation. We will shapeshift countless times, we will feel every swing of the pendulum and every sentient being we inhabit. We will kill lovers and resurrect old demons. We will live inside dreams and plant the seeds for unimaginably beautiful moments. The World embodies all, a reality that is so overwhelming it is barely possible to conceive of. But it is the truth we find ourselves blindly stumbling into, with an ever-deepening acceptance.
Anima Mundi.
MINOR ARCANA
The Minor Arcana consists of 56 cards that are divided into four suits: Wands, Cups, Swords, and Pentacles. Each suit represents different aspects of daily life and human experience, providing a more granular and practical perspective compared to the Major Arcana.
Wands are associated with the element of fire, creativity, action, and ambition. They reflect our will, inspiration, and the energy we put in our endeavors.
Cups are linked to the element of water, emotions, relationships, and intuition. They delve into our feelings, connections with others, and matters of the heart.
Swords correspond to the element of air, intellect, communication, and conflict. They address our thoughts, decisions, and challenges, often highlighting struggles and mental clarity.
Pentacles are aligned with the element of earth, and material aspects such as work, wealth, and the physical body. They focus on the tangible, practical side of life and our relationship with the natural world.
Each suit contains cards numbered from Ace to Ten, along with four court cards: Page, Knight, Queen, and King. The numbered cards illustrate various situations and experiences within their respective domains, while the court cards represent different personality types or sides of our persona.
Together, the Minor Arcana provides a nuanced and comprehensive view of the everyday challenges, opportunities, and interactions that shape our lives, complementing the broader themes and archetypal lessons of the Major Arcana.
Wands
Ace of Wands
In the dark abyss of the cosmos, a fiery spark ignites. It spins and swirls, ablaze with potential — the raw, untamed energy of creation. A figure reaches upward, grasping at the luminous tendrils of inspiration. With their wand they capture it all in a single point, ready to be used by human hands.
This card is a beacon of new beginnings and boundless possibilities. It urges us to breathe in new life and exhale this energy into our actions. The entwined paths in the image suggest that this creative process is not a straight line but a stumbling journey through the unknown, as all original endeavors must be.
The Ace of Wands calls us to awaken our inner fire, to let our passions lead the way, and to trust in the power of our imagination. The universe is an endless canvas, and our will is the brush that gives shape to our experience.
Two of Wands
After the raw power of the Ace has been seized, the Two of Wands points to a period of gestation, planning and development. It is about the initial steps of embarking on a new journey or project. The card asks that we come to terms with our inner fire, and consider all of the ways in which we could use it.
The figure in the image stands between two wands, a positioning that symbolizes the balance and consideration required when standing at a crossroads. The figure’s contemplative pose, with one hand resting on a wand and the other hand holding a globe, represents the act of surveying one’s domain and evaluating future possibilities. The new leaves sprouting from the wands symbolize growth, potential, and the nurturing of ideas that have yet to fully manifest.
The Two of Wands is about stepping into a position of power and vision, where one must weigh options and prepare for future endeavors. Its darker sides include overambition, machiavellian plans, and leanings toward domination.
Three of Wands
This card symbolizes progress, expansion, and the realization of plans that were initiated in the Two of Wands. In the image, the figure standing amidst the three wands is composed of fiery, vine-like patterns, merging human and natural elements. We are now fully immersed in the world of Wands, growing the same buds and leaves as they are. This suggests a deep connection with one’s surroundings and the natural flow of life and growth. It is the sense of being committed to our plans, in the midst of movement and adventure.
The figure faces away toward the land, yet the eyes on their hands look behind, conveying the sense of simultaneously looking at what has been accomplished and what lies ahead. This multiplicity of perspectives provides a heightened awareness that can only come from enacting our plans out there in the world. The advice of this card is to leap forward and to learn through action.
Four of Wands
A card of homecoming; the peaceful moment of celebration where we can take a step back with gratitude and witness all that we have done. Wands are associated with fire and willpower, and fours often signify stability; we thus find a balanced union of growth and steadiness in this card.
It is an invitation to relax and allow the natural, imminent blooming of seeds that we have been relentlessly sowing to take place. As any gardener knows, active participation is only one side of the process of making things grow. The other part of this cycle, just as important, is to let nature—the other, society, the world—respond. This is how we can solidify our projects in a sustainable way.
Five of Wands
After leaving the home of the Four comes the whirling, chaotic, but necessary change of the Five. In the suit of Wands this signifies competition, disagreements, and confusion. Too much willpower coming from too many places, whether that is internally or within a group of people, leads to a misdirection of energies.
The Five of Wands asks us to recognize where this energy is at play in our lives. Friction can be productive, as competition compels us to be innovative, and holding the tension of opposites leads to psychological insights. This card is a reminder that an essential ingredient of growth is conflict, and that if we’re willing to embrace chaos from time to time, we might expand our ability to dance along with it.
Six of Wands
A card of victory. After the chaotic struggle of the Five, we find ourselves back to some sort of order. Daring to be ridiculous is a great way to lead any creative charge. As improbable as it may be, the image shows a human riding a bee amongst other flying bees, suggesting that once a balanced energy is found, it takes courage to try things that seem impossible.
Bees bring up the feeling of being elevated, light. They are hard workers — busy bees. They show patience when flying from flower to flower, softly sucking the nectar to produce honey. They create balance through their labor — their input and their output. Bee hives teach us the wonders of working in community, of harmonizing oneself with others or with different aspects of ourselves in order to make things happen.
The bee rider is happy, confident, and holds a Thyrsus in his hand. Associated with Dionysus, the Thyrsus represents prosperity, pleasure and enjoyment. It teaches us that it is this fertile creative energy within ourselves that allows us to play with systems that work and to bring life out into the world. The sunflowers on his shirt symbolize the proper action to take towards that solar energy: to turn our head towards the source of life, and participate in growth.
Seven of Wands
A card of conviction, challenges, perseverance, and standing one's ground. The character holds a defensive stance, wielding a wand with a determined grip, their hair blown back by a strong wind. The body is full of guardian animals, the mask bold and impassive. The figure is framed by six other wands that seem to both challenge and protect them.
This card comes as a sign that one is facing opposition and must stand firm in their beliefs and actions. It speaks of a situation where the time to doubt ourselves is past, and we feel in our hearts that we must fight for what we know to be right. It is a call to take a proactive stance and honor this felt sense.
The 7 of Wands, then, suggests a turning point or a critical moment where our resolve is tested. It invites reflection on what truly matters and urges us to discover our core truths. This is a reminder that while external challenges can be daunting, the most significant battle is fought within ourselves. What really matters is not to prove ourselves right in any given situation, but to touch a place of inner strength and know it is accessible to us.
Eight of Wands
A card of swift action and unbridled momentum. The scene unfolds in a rapid progression, a labyrinth of desire and movement, figures entwining in a cascade of passion and urgency. As bodies merge and shift, they represent the convergence of goals, the collision of desires, and the speed at which change is embraced.
Each chamber, a stage for the dance of bodies and spirits, pulses with the fervor of unrestrained energy. They mirror the dynamic force propelling events forward, the sexual energy that drives nature in a buzzing élan vital.
In the Eight of Wands, we find the essence of rapid progress and the exhilaration of motion. It is a card that urges us to ride the wave of momentum and to trust in the direction of our impulses. It speaks of a period where every moment is charged with the potential for transformation, and where speed and passion must lead the way.
Nine of Wands
A card of resilience. The Nine comes right before the completion of the suit of Wands. In this sense it denotes a final stand, a last-ditch effort that takes all of our willpower. The image is black and white, and the figure is leaning on his wand, tired, his head bandaged. This all underlines the bleakness of the situation, yet the character is not giving up on his task.
There are inevitably times that come when we are forced to recruit strength from within, one we might not even have known we had. Without these moments, we would never grow. Growth comes from reaching a point of near breakdown. When we are pushed to dive into our depths and fish out a yet unknown energy, we unlock this new form of strength, and it stays with us.
Ten of Wands
The suit of Wands has to do with will, work and energy; the tens represent completion, the end of a cycle. This is where the myth of Sisyphus comes in. Sisyphus was doomed by the gods to push a boulder up a hill only to have it roll down, endlessly. As soon as one cycle finishes another one starts; the work is never really over. This seems to be encoded in our nature, and it is absurd to hold on to the idea that accomplishment will make us whole. Instead, we can accept that to be human is to be inherently driven to pursue goals for their own sake.
Unless we choose to become monks and dedicate our lives to freeing ourselves of attachment, we don’t really get to opt out of this game. We can’t jump off the wheel. But we do get to determine the meaning we assign to our effort. We get to choose what the work is all for, and if the reason rings strong and true enough, it may drive us for our whole lives. As Albert Camus pointed out, “We must imagine Sisyphus happy.” And in this case, we might say happiness is synonymous with being connected to a deeper purpose.
Page of Wands
We may think of this Page as the young, cheerful and confident being who lives in our psyche.
With their green nature-like body and leafy hair, the character in this card is at the peak of inspiration and the pursuit of new ventures. Swiftly dancing with their fiery wand, the Page embodies a creative spark. With passion and thirst for adventure, they find within themselves the willpower needed to face challenges and vast landscapes of opportunities ahead.
This card appears as a suggestion to reconnect with the fiery enthusiasm that makes us feel alive. It pushes us to take a leap, to hold the inner child’s hand and to walk with them for a little while. But not too long, for the dance with fire also comes with the risk of taking rushed actions, and foolishly playing with a higher intelligence without consideration for the consequences.
Knight of Wands
Both Knights and Wands are associated with the element of fire. Thus with this card we see fire influencing fire, actions feeding actions, pure momentum. In his positive aspect, The Knight of Wands’ flames warm and enthuse us; but they can also scorch and overwhelm us. It is his energy we need when we are stuck in a rut, lethargic, paralyzed… When we haven’t moved our bodies or done anything spontaneous in a long time, he rears up in front of us to show us how much fun we could be having. He invites us to leap forward with the uncontainable energy of a wild horse, throwing ourselves into the adventure that has been waiting for us.
Queen of Wands
This Queen is a celebration of the strong, passionate, independent feminine archetype. Her hair, Medusa-like, is made of entangled snakes. The multitudes of fireflies in and around her body suggest a portal to the everlasting dynamism of the fire element in nature.
Compared to the King of Wands whose setting is daylight, here we find the Queen staring at a flame burning in the night. The darkness of the environment leads us to the mystery of her powers, to the subliminal unconscious sides of fire. The Queen’s connection to fire is more subtle than the King’s. She approaches it in a different way, she contains it and redirects it.
Like the Hermit, the Queen of Wands holds a snake-adorned staff. She is standing alone, with power and wisdom in her hands, despite the solitude that comes with it. This speaks to an embraced feminine wisdom which could at times be isolating in today’s world.
The Queen of Wands reminds us to reckon with our inner fire — something that has been suppressed in women for a long time. She is here to recognize the hardships of expressing fire, creativity, passion and sexuality; but she also shows us that we have the tools necessary to show our intensity to the rest of the world.
King of Wands
This card offers the clearest manifestation of fertile, creative, assertive energy. The healthy aspects of masculinity have definitely not been at the forefront of culture in recent times, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. In fact, focusing on ways to reclaim the potential for masculinity to be a warm, loving force is an important step.
We can recognize that the masculine/feminine binary is an oversimplified tool we use to try to apprehend the energies at play in this world. But the felt sense of a healthy "masculine" force is still an experience intuitively available to all... like the overflowing strength and love emanating from the sun that imbues plants with the desire to grow.
The King of Wands wants us to step in this sunlike power we feel in our hearts, the desire to protect those close to us and build them a home. It is the use of strength in the service of love.
Cups
Ace of Cups
This card presents itself as a welcoming door towards emotional growth. The giving hand cradles the cup, which is overflowing with water, but also with mushrooms, worms, strands of DNA, and a snake. Here, all different stages of life are brought to the table. The cup carries the gift of birth, of emotions, of soft form and creativity; and it carries the promise of death, of coagulation, of decay.
Life energy is born out of the death of other elements. Even though the Ace is a beginning, it still holds the death of previous cycles. Two streams of water flow out of the cup. They appear to be coming from the eyes engraved in the cup below. They represent the acceptance and the recognition of emotions in their fullest range—the release of true, raw, and honest tears.
The streams circulate back into the calm current of the water below; the cup shelters a bottomless well that is in constant renewal. Everything is returning to the water. Lotus flowers lay there, blooming out of the body of unconscious waters. This coming to form symbolizes a new phase of self-exploration or an emotional discovery. It is about those moments of life where a so-far unknown facet of the emotional realm comes up to the surface, or at least has the proper space to reveal itself.
Two of Cups
A card of connection, partnership, and emotional exchange. It represents a harmonious union, often signifying the beginning of a new relationship or a deepening of an existing one. This can be an internal relationship with a part of ourselves, or an external one with another being.
In the image, two figures are sitting across from each other, each holding a cup. The flowing energy between their cups symbolizes the exchange of emotions, ideas, and mutual respect. The serene setting and the careful, even ceremonial manner in which the cups are presented highlight the sacredness of their bond.
This reflects the essence of the Two of Cups: balance, unity, and the blending of energies to create something greater than the sum of its parts. The figures' attentive postures suggest that both parties are fully engaged and present to the moment, further underlining the importance of mutual investment in the relationship.
This card encourages embracing connections that foster growth, understanding, and emotional fulfillment. It reminds us of the beauty found in partnerships where both individuals are equally committed to nurturing and supporting each other.
Three of Cups
This is a card of community, of love shared and celebrated. It takes the relationship of the Two of Cups and expands it to a whole group. It is tied to the archetype of the feast, where passion (the cup of wine) is balanced with wholesomeness and health (the cups of water). Thanksgiving is somehow both a holiday of gratitude and of indulgence. This card is about finding this balance, giving in to the passions of life while keeping an attitude of generosity and respect. It is the shared enjoyment of the fruits of nature which allows us to sing its praises.
The Three of Cups card asks us to embrace the joy that stems from the teachings and medicine of the Empress, in all its shifting forms. The Spring of Maiden, the Summer of Mother, the Winter of Crone. In community we find the strength to pass through these cycles, embracing together times of fullness, emptiness, and regeneration.
Four of Cups
The meaning of this card can be summed up as the archetypal “refusal of the gift” in the hero’s journey. The flowing emotions of the Cups meet the structure of the Four and get stuck for a moment. There are moments when we are unable to see the openings that lay ahead of us, or simply choose to ignore them. These new paths may be hidden in plain sight, waiting for us to slightly shift our awareness from a stagnant loop. It may also be that a sudden grace is bestowed upon us, only to be wasted as we recycle the gift into our usual patterns.
Either way, what is asked of us is a loosening of the stubborn affection with which we embrace the devil we know. This is how a certain ungraspable thirst that accompanies mindlessness may finally start being quenched.
Five of Cups
This card speaks of loss and grief, specifically as feelings we are asked to hold and consider, if we wish to move forward. There are two upright cups in the image, and three that are upside down, pouring out their content. The eye and heart of the figure cry their sorrow, yet their outpour is caught by the two cups still standing. They are reminders of our ability to draw upon inner resources to hold ourselves up amidst moments of emotional suffering, feeling the experience fully yet not letting it collapse our lives. The Five of Cups wants us to look at our grief directly, but not to wallow in it.
It would be too simple to say that it is just about focusing on the positive side of things. Rather it is about letting the negative take its right place, and making space for it in a contained way where we are able to integrate its lessons. Loss and grief, when processed, very often do lead to greater wisdom and compassion. But this is only possible if we are willing to look these difficult feelings straight in the eye, cry the tears that need to be expressed, and vow to keep finding meaning in our experience.
Six of Cups
A card of sharing, generosity, and of nostalgia for the magic of childhood and the past. The stained glass style of the image recalls the windows of a church. It speaks to the possibility of finding profound truth, if buried and elusive, in aesthetic itself. The link between Christian symbolism and the nostalgia suggested by this card lies also in the cups of wine.
Wine, the sacred substance consumed during mass to put one in connection with the divine… together with the “body of Christ” which some historians theorize was in fact an entheogen, instead of the simple bread wafer given today. Whether this is factual or not, we feel a yearning for a time when direct connection with the divine was possible, through communion, through real ritual.
With current religious institutions being mostly stripped of this element, we are left with a spiritual void. One solution may be to create our own communities where this transcendence can happen. We can bring back the reverence for mind-altering experience that was occluded by fear and judgment, and craft our own rituals that revive the love and connection once promised by the old gods.
Seven of Cups
This card is a hologram, a trick of the light, a mirage. It is the archetype of imagination, illusion and fantasy. On the road toward fulfillment and self-discovery, decisions are made, paths are taken… yet we are often in the dark. The torch of our imagination illuminates but a glimpse of the shapeshifting characters we meet. The eclectic mix of faces coming out of the cups suggests the myriad of paths one might take, each one offering different experiences and outcomes. The bright, chaotic display of colors and forms mirrors the sense of overwhelming choices and the potential for both wonder and delusion.
The Seven of Cups represents a a moment where we are presented with a multitude of options, each with its own allure and potential consequences. Whether these options are tied to external life situations or internal processes, the novel and confusing nature of the situation is what makes it hold potential for growth. It is a call to sharpen our discernment, but also to be able to revel in the confusion. The balance of these two approaches is what makes for moments of true creativity.
Eight of Cups
This card denotes a moment of departure, leaving something familiar in search of deeper meaning or fulfillment. We see a solitary figure with a lantern, setting on a journey up a steep, mountainous path under the night sky. The figure is leaving behind a series of cups, representing emotional attachments, relationships, or situations that no longer serve them. Childlike and naked, they are embarking upon a stage of life where they will have to be vulnerable, open to the unknown.
The Eight of Cups has echoes to the Hermit, with themes of introspection and shedding external pretenses to search for personal truth. The lantern symbolizes inner guidance and wisdom, illuminating the way in the darkest of times. The constellations and the crescent moon in the night sky evoke a sense of cosmic alignment and destiny. It is hinting that this journey, although solitary and challenging, is part of a greater spiritual process.
This card, then, asks us where in our life we may need to walk away from the known and the comfortable to pursue a more meaningful path.
Nine of Cups
This card speaks of satisfaction, as well as its potentially overwhelming nature. The Nine of Cups symbolizes delights, pleasures and abundance in every sense. The card portrays the joy that comes when our true desires are realized, yet it also invites reflection on the deeper nature of contentment. How do we feel when all our wishes are granted? Fulfilled, of course... Yet this fulfillment can bring with it strange feelings. Perhaps a disarming gratitude that contains the reminder of the fleeting nature of all experiences, and makes them all the more meaningful.
In this image, a multi-armed figure sits in a meditative pose, surrounded by nine cups filled with offerings. The figure’s head is adorned with elements of nature—leaves as eyes, corn as eyebrows, and a flower on the third eye, symbolizing a deep connection to the natural world and a state of spiritual harmony. Snakes encircle the figure's mouth, suggesting wisdom and transformation.
The vivid colors and intricate patterns on the figure's body emphasize a transcendent state where personal pleasure merges with universal abundance. This reminds us that true fulfillment often comes from recognizing our interconnectedness with the world and allows us to cultivate the balance needed to gracefully hold our most intense joyful experiences.
Ten of Cups
This final card in the numbered cycle of Cups is one of exaltation, shared fulfillment, and harmony in relationships.
The two figures at the center of the image are engaged in a light dance, a ceremonial moment. Their barely touching hands are a testament to the space they leave each other, a mutual respect for individuality even in the culmination of a shared dream. The creatures at their feet can be seen as their anima and animus; internal counterparts of their masculine/feminine aspects. They are a manifestation of the psyche that helps us connect to the shard of ourselves in one another’s soul; they are reminders of our belonging to the same source.
The various cups arranged around the characters symbolize abundance in all spheres of life; wealth (gold and gems), health (grapes), emotions (water), inspiration (wine), and connection to the sacred (light).
The Ten of Cups, then, takes the overflowing joy and gratitude of the Nine and brings them to another level, where they are shared with those we love. It emphasizes the importance of letting those emotions flow in and out of us, expressing them to others and building something out of them. Rather than trying to hold on to personal happiness and seeing it dissipate, we may find a way to give back when we are in that state, transforming gratitude into generosity and creativity. This is the essence of the cycle.
Page of Cups
One of the key elements of creativity is the childlike ability to let ourselves be surprised. Curiosity is essential if we are to create something truly original, as it is with the process of self-discovery. This entails a relationship with the randomness of the world that makes room for wonder. It is the capacity to respond to unforeseen events not with “Why did this happen?” but rather, “What does this reveal?” We have the choice to seek the seeds of new ideas contained in even the most absurd of situations.
The Page of Cups reminds us that life itself has a sense of humor, whether we experience it through wonderful synchronicities or dark ironies. To be in conversation with the trickster aspect of reality is to be ready to receive its gifts, no matter how bizarre the container.
In the image, the cup spilling out shows the Page’s insouciance; they are so excited about the surprise of the fish that they forget to hold the cup straight. This may be interpreted as an unreadiness to contain the emotions represented by Cups. The King of this suit is also pouring out his cups, but in his case it comes from an intentional place of giving back. For the Page, there is just too much to hold.
This Page is the one who grabs the gift of the Ace of Cups and uses it in a way that is perhaps immature but also with a lot of enthusiasm and zest. In its most positive sense, it is the essence of shoshin in Zen Buddhism — the beginner’s mind.
Knight of Cups
This Knight is driven by emotion, creativity, and a quest for beauty. His archetype has deep links to Dionysus, the god of wine, festivity, and ecstasy. Dionysus is a complex deity, bringing joy and divine rapture as well as chaos and madness. This duality is reflected in the Knight of Cups, who can represent the pursuit of emotional fulfillment and wildly creative endeavors, but also the potential for escapism and getting lost in the overwhelming flow of excess.
The Knight in the image holds two cups, symbolizing the offering of emotional and creative gifts and the balance between receiving and giving. His horse, adorned with flowers and fruits, is connected to the lush, abundant, and indulgent aspects of Dionysus. The horse's colorful and organic elements echo the god's connection to nature, fertility, and the sensuous pleasures of life. The mountainous landscape underscores the journey the Knight is on, one that traverses emotional highs and lows in search of a truth that lies between extremes.
The Knight of Cups calls us to explore the heights and depths of our emotions, to create and appreciate beauty, and to embrace all sides of our emotional experiences. The card is an affirmation of the journey of self-discovery, and the pursuit of higher states of consciousness through emotional and artistic expression. It is an embodiment of Dionysian energy, inviting us to celebrate life's strange and intense moments, delve into our emotions, and seek transformative experiences.
Queen of Cups
The Queen of Cups brings cleansing. Her waters are a stream of forgiveness, a grace we can step into. There is wisdom in ritualizing emotions. The Queen knows this and invites us to do so in a safe yet profound manner. The organs will cry the tears the eyes were not willing to weep. She tells us, “Let the body purge what it needs to, and don’t be afraid to make space for this to happen.” To purge can mean to create, to exert energy, to destroy, to let go, to throw ourselves into the sea of feelings we may have been reluctant to visit. The intentional release of emotions is a practice that keeps the waters from becoming stagnant. When done with care, a ceremonial cleansing — in whatever way earnestly resonates for us — can be all we need to unlock a new dimension of understanding.
King of Cups
The King of Cups teaches us that personal power lies not in dominance or control, but in embracing our vulnerability and diving deep into the ocean of our emotions, fears, and desires. By committing to the exploration of these (sometimes overwhelming) inner realms, we can become acquainted with the truest kind of strength… One that is not rigid and brittle but flows in communion with the waters of life. It is through this understanding that we can foster genuine empathy and compassion, acknowledging our own flawed humanity and connecting with the emotional landscape of others.
The lion in the center of the card symbolizes the role of the ruler, the one in power. Yet he is standing amidst the ocean, in the depths of the watery flow of life. This card is about emotional mastery which results in the beautiful art of giving, as the lion is pouring water from his cups. Emotional confidence is overflowing from its containers, suggesting that there is now enough space, enough trust and confidence to allow emotions in and let them back out. This is the process of letting our fearless inner explorations be a gift to share with the rest of the world.
Swords
Ace of Swords
This card symbolizes the dawn of clarity, truth, and intellectual breakthrough. The sword pierces the sky, its sharp edge embodying a clear and decisive thought. Perhaps the first thought of its kind. As it ascends, the sword transforms into a flock of birds, each one a liberated idea or a new perspective.
This transformation symbolizes the power of a single, clear insight to give rise to multiple possibilities and expansive understanding. One thought can unfold into a myriad of possibilities. The birds, once part of the rigid blade, now soar freely.
The intellect in its pure form can transcend its own limitations and lead to mind-expanding revelations. The Ace of Swords is a call to focus on clarity of intent, and recognize that one sharp thought can unlock a multitude of potentials. A clear mind is a free mind.
Two of Swords
The word trancher, in French, means both to cut and to make a final decision. This card depicts the moment of stasis that precedes this action. It is the experience of finding ourselves at a crossroads. Leaving the single-minded focus of the Ace, we face a situation where two equal and opposing forces are at play. The invitation, then, is to step outside ourselves in order to gain a better understanding.
The tyranny of indecision can keep us in a state of paralysis, and the rational mind can only take us so far into the act of making a final call. The advice from the Two of Swords is that getting unstuck may require letting our guard down. Perhaps we are not ready for this now, and need to stay in a stalemate for a bit longer. But after all options have been taken into account, all possibilities considered, we must take a leap. The moment when something actually happens is always more than the sum of its parts.
Three of Swords
Swords usually have to do with the mind, but here they turn back on themselves, punishing the physical and emotional body. In this card, we witness the rawness of heartache transformed by the alchemy of time and grace. It is the relentless passage through pain, where each moment of suffering brings us closer to wholeness.
The golden birds, luminous against the dark wounds, embody duality. They peck at the heart, devouring parts of it, yet their touch also weaves a delicate balm, knitting the organ's fissures with threads of gold. This interplay of destruction and creation speaks to the bittersweet nature of healing, where pain and recovery are inextricably linked.
Three of Swords calls us to embrace the pain inherent in the process, and to trust in the intelligence of our being. Just like the body knows how to repair itself when wounded, our mental and emotional selves have an innate drive toward homeostasis. The task is to gently make space for this natural cycle to take its course.
Four of Swords
A card of deep rest and meditation. It speaks to the freedom that emerges, paradoxically, from a disciplined mind. The fours are about structure, and when this is applied to swords, the suit of air and thought, a great balance is achieved. Not rigidity, but rather calm and clarity, are achieved when the thinking mind is trained in a context like meditation. While this may seem obvious, it’s often quite difficult to let ourselves enter into this state of relaxed awareness.
This card reminds us of the power of taking the decision to step outside the race for a moment and place importance on the health of our mental ecosystem. As much as our modern world discourages us from entering it, deep rest is essential to our functioning. It’s not simply a matter of relaxing and numbing, but of entering a state of non-action while still completely awake and aware. The Four of Swords asks us to try and see what happens when we treat the mind as something that can be sharpened through stillness.
Five of Swords
In this card, conflict and strife are laid bare, the stillness of the Four shaken by external circumstances. Two figures are locked in a confrontation. One stands dominant, adorned with feathers like blades and eyes that see all angles. The other bows in defeat, burdened by the weight of loss and surrender.
This speaks to the harsh reality of victory at a cost. The victor, holding his sword with an unyielding grip, symbolizes triumph through cunning and force. Yet, the feathers suggest a transformation, a need to rise above the baseness of mere conquest. In the Five of Swords, we find the complexities of human confrontation—victory tainted by the bitterness of defeat, and the realization that some battles leave all parties wounded. It is a card that urges reflection on the true cost of our conflicts and the importance of integrity and empathy in our pursuits. It asks us, “What is really worth fighting for, and what is just a useless show of superiority?”
Six of Swords
A card of passage, away from turbulent times and toward a more harmonious experience. The river in the image is the flow of life, ever-moving and changing. The masked travelers bear their swords as reminders of their past trials. These are not forgotten, but they have been integrated.
The boat’s forward motion speaks of hope and the promise of healing. Its darkly humorous appearance is also a reminder of the lightness with which we can hold even our darkest past experiences. Tragedy plus time equals comedy, as the saying goes. The journey may be long and hazy, but it is a necessary passage toward clarity and peace.
In the Six of Swords, we find solace in the promise of new beginnings and the courage to leave behind what no longer serves us. It is a card of quiet strength, guiding us through the darkness toward the dawn of a new chapter of life.
Seven of Swords
A trickster moon rising. The thief holds behind his back a bouquet of swords, symbols of the intellect. He is taking these tools out of their right place, using them in ways that go outside the bounds of normalcy and culture.
In its most positive sense, it means being able to use our mind in a truly original way; to play with ideas and project out into a possibly amoral landscape. This is something we might, at times, have to do in secret.
The figure’s twisted posture and the disproportionate burden of swords hint at the imbalance and tension inherent in taking this kind of risk. Moments when we choose to embody the trickster necessarily have a destabilizing effect, for better or worse. It can be incredibly generative, but we are never immune to the shadows cast by our ambitions.
The two swords at the bottom lie in wait, unforeseen consequences. Escaping our hold, they are truths left unaddressed by our choices. The card invites us to consider our intentions and the actual result of our actions. Are we moving with some kind of purpose, or are we simply lost in the embrace of the trickster? Is the reward worth the risk?
Eight of Swords
A card of bondage. There are times of self-created darkness where we feel truly alone, surrounded by hostile creations of our own mind, blind to outside help. Thoughts, sharp instruments of dissection, are treacherous when they turn on themselves. In those moments of self-imprisonment, characteristic of the modern predicament, we trap ourselves in loops of the brain.
The Eight of Swords comes as a warning that we have pushed our minds too far. The body screams until we finally hear it, we twist and contort, and suddenly the waters of intuition can be tapped. This is our way out: the refreshing reminder of the authentic self, the quenching of a thirst we were unable to formulate... The human animal, finding solace in the sensual truth that somehow still blooms in a desert of rationality.
Nine of Swords
At this stage of the suit of Swords, we are confronted with deep anguish and anxiety, captured in the image as a succession of figures. Each body, layered one atop the other, is trapped in a cycle of sleepless torment. Tossing and turning, over and over. Layers of worry and sorrow weigh upon the mind.
The night is meant to be a time of recovery and unconscious processing through dreams. However there are times when it offers no respite, only a vicious cycle of anxieties, the feeling of being consumed by inner demons. Insomnia here is also a metaphor for a state of mind that can creep up at any time, an existential restlessness. This is the nervous system at its most inefficient, mental energy eating itself. What this card has to offer is the realization that the nightmares are self-inflicted, born from our own perceptions, and that we do have the ability to transcend them.
The Nine of Swords asks that we face these shadows directly, acknowledging their presence to receive their message. Anxious thoughts often have a root that is deeper and truer than their agitated surface manifestations. They are calling us to slow down and pay attention.
Ten of Swords
Enantiodromia is the breakdown of something that has reached an absolute peak into its complete opposite. At the end of the cycle of the suit of Swords, we reach a moment of rock bottom, a forced abandon.
In the card, the figure is lying face down on the ground, pinned by swords. The brain and the heart are highlighted and contrasted. It is the moment when the overload of mental activity trapped in the head reverses in an opening of the heart.
And that release can only happen after being forced to the ground. The body passes from ice cold to warm, its veins connecting to roots in the earth. It is a symbolic death and rebirth, connected to the Death card of the Major Arcana, albeit at a smaller scale. This card is not about actual death but rather a moment of radical surrender to change.
The entire bottom half of the card is filled with roots and new life, representing all that is going to unfold from our willingness to let go. When we are beaten down to the ground, we must find a way to let the ground take care of us.
Page of Swords
This Page is a youthful seeker of truth and adventure. They embrace challenges with a deft grace, turning peril into a performance of intellect and agility. Their inquisitive mind dives deep into the unknown, swallowing the sword of knowledge whole.
The birds in the image, with their radiant plumage, symbolize the kaleidoscope of ideas and insights that flutter around the Page. Each bird carries a message, a fragment of truth waiting to be discovered. The air is alive with their chatter, inspiring the Page to chase after uncharted territories. In this card, we see the fusion of bravery and curiosity, the willingness to explore the sharp edges of thought while remaining open to the vibrant diversity of experience.
Knight of Swords
Intellect is a double-edged blade. Charging forward with unyielding resolve, this Knight's mind slices through obstacles with precision. Yet, in the fervor of relentless pursuit, this sharpness can turn inward, severing the connection to a more organic wisdom.
A mind too keen, too focused on immediate conquest, risks decapitating itself from the body of experience. It forgets the warmth of empathy, the grounding force of patience, and the gentle flow of understanding. The Knight's path, if unchecked, leads to a barren landscape where the head lies severed, a casualty of its own brilliance.
In the Knight of Swords, we see the urgency of intellect tempered with the need for balance. It is a call to wield the sword of thought with care, and to remember that a sharp mind must also be wise enough to sheath itself when necessary.
Queen of Swords
A figure of stark wisdom and discernment. She is the guardian of intellect, the solitary monarch who is at home with the most elusive ghosts of the mind. The throne of carved bone supports her body as an ossified structure of hard-won truths. This card is about cutting through illusions, no matter how harsh the underlying reality may be.
In this card the Queen is wounded, having lost an eye, but the one that remains sees all the more clearly. Just as bones can mend and grow stronger, she turns past trauma into resilience, using her experiences to fortify her mind.
This card is a reminder of our ability to step into this role of the inner parent, at once stern and compassionate, and guide ourselves toward a better understanding.
King of Swords
In this card, we find the embodiment of intellectual mastery and balance. The three-faced king sees all sides with clarity. Each face represents a different aspect of his dominion: past, present, and future — an all-encompassing vision that guides his rule. He represents the part of us that has the ability to see beyond the immediate, to consider every angle and consequence. Yet, this multifaceted vision also brings the burden of awareness, the weight of knowing too much. The transparency of his body symbolizes this incisive self-knowledge.
The butterfly, a symbol of transformation and ephemeral beauty, contrasts with the King's steely resolve. Its adornment of the throne is a reminder that power also lies in adaptability, and the balance between firmness and grace. The King’s body is at once masculine and feminine, graceful and powerful, mirroring an exalted consciousness; a mature mind free from the weight of binaries. His sword points downward: it is only used when needed, when its power actually serves.
The card is ultimately one of mastery and discernment, a call to hone these aspects of our own minds and use them for a greater purpose. For this to happen, as the King must take into consideration every aspect of himself before ruling his kingdom, we are advised to take an honest inventory of all our parts. This cutting inner search is what allows us to then spread our ideas with solid, gentle confidence.
Pentacles
Ace of Pentacles
Let us consider this card a seed. Aces represent beginnings, and Pentacles are the suit of earth, the body, nature… the tangible world. This is life force sprouting, the birth of a new being, cells congregating to form a distinct entity. For us it can mean the start of a journey toward creating physical abundance, like an acorn containing the promise of the tree in its genetic code. We are of this earth, and we have the power to create just as she does.
When connected to alchemy, the Ace of Pentacles represents the raw, untapped potential of lead that can be transformed into gold. This card embodies the alchemical principle of prima materia, the first matter from which all things originate. Just as alchemists sought to perfect base metals, the Ace of Pentacles encourages the refinement and realization of one's ambitions and resources, laying the groundwork for future success and transformation.
Two of Pentacles
This card symbolizes balance and adaptability amidst changes. In this image, the figure's acrobatic pose and intricate intertwining with vines illustrate the equilibrium required to manage life's demands. It is also the careful gestation of the seeds we have planted in the Ace.
The hand connected to the roots emphasize the importance of staying grounded while navigating change and challenges. The infinity sign represents the continuous flow and perpetual motion of the cycles of existence. This card encourages flexibility and attunement in our movement. It reminds us that finding balance is an ongoing process, a constant back and forth amidst the complexities of life.
Three of Pentacles
This card symbolizes craft, mastery, and the successful completion of projects through collaboration.
The central figure, radiating with rainbow colors and deeply immersed in the work, embodies the blending of different talents and perspectives to create something greater than the sum of its parts. The pentacle held at the core is the grounding and practical application of these combined efforts, a point of focus rooted in reality. Surrounding the figure are various intricate patterns and images, depicting the complexity and diversity of ideas and inputs that have yet to be processed.
The meaning of the Three of Pentacles can be about actual teamwork with others, or it can be about aligning aspects of ourselves and rallying our disparate parts, making connections between skills we hadn’t thought could merge. In either case, the goal is the harmonious integration of different aspects or individuals, woven together into a cohesive whole.
This card asks that we consider which people in our lives, and which parts of ourselves, have been left behind in the projects we are undertaking and could have unforeseen positive effects on them. It also encourages us to be prolific and to show our work, opening up to the gifts of the social aspects of creativity.
Four of Pentacles
In this card, the figure sits firmly on his pentacle, reflecting themes of security, control, and materialism. After the hard work of the previous cards comes a desire to stabilize, to impose some structure on what we have gained. The rainbow symbolizes a bridge between the material and spiritual, urging the figure to balance this security with a willingness to embrace the broader spectrum of life’s experiences and opportunities. Yet the pentacles in his eyes show that he is currently blind to this possibility. The image encapsulates the tension between holding on to what we have and recognizing the possibilities that lie ahead, if we are trusting enough to open ourselves again.
Five of Pentacles
This card signifies struggle, misfortune, poverty and alienation. Yet the imagery reminds us that suffering alone is not necessary; there are two figures depicted here, one caring for the other. In fact, not only do community and friendship help in darker times, but hardship can actually create stronger bonds between us.
In the comfort and relative isolation of modern life, we rarely get to go through real danger and chaos side by side with someone. The opportunity to protect and lift each other up is one that can truly deepen our understanding of what it is to be human.
The Five of Pentacles brings loss and difficulty but also allows us to truly value our possessions, our experiences and our connections to others. Often only when these things are taken away are we truly able to appreciate them. It is this hard-won gratitude that we will carry with us on the rest of the journey through the suit of Pentacles.
Six of Pentacles
A card of giving and receiving. The image speaks to the nuance inherent in the relationship between giver and receiver. In most decks, the Six of Pentacles depicts a benevolent figure offering money to beggars. Here there is a highlight on the ambiguity of the act of giving, especially when the one receiving is in no position to have any agency over the exchange.
As conveyed by many myths and stories about “deals with the Devil”, gifts can be poisonous, or they may have hidden rules embedded within them. This is not to induce mistrust or paranoia about acts of generosity. Rather it is to shed light and hopefully clarify our intention when we find ourselves on either end of this giving-receiving spectrum, which shows up in all aspects of life.
Seven of Pentacles
This card is about the value of investing time and energy into our projects, and having the patience to let them come to fruition in their right time. The intricate detail of the image is a reflection of the meaning of the card itself. Many cards in the suit of Pentacles fit well with the analogy of the garden, but perhaps none as well as this one. Patience pays off, the gardener tells us.
We must learn to know when to step back, see how things are growing, and come in again to adjust them. We can then look with a sense of wonder at this beautiful process, from seed to fruit, and be grateful to have this opportunity to co-create with the world.
Eight of Pentacles
A card of ambition, diligence and craft. It also reminds us of the dual nature of creativity. The craftsman portrayed here is animated by two sources of creative inspiration at opposite ends of a spectrum. One is light in all senses of the words; life-giving, reaching upward, almost angelic. It is like the muses of the Greeks, or the Anima in Jungian psychology; a counterpart to the psyche that is somehow wiser than us, and feeds us ideas in a mist of images. It is also the part of the artist that is enriched by the deep relationships in their life. To feel love for another human is like a call for this source of creative light to emerge. It engenders the desire to create things in honor of these loved ones, and as gifts for them.
The other side of inspiration, just as powerful, is a shadow muse: the dark friend at the bottom of our gut that pushes the more chaotic side of creation, and feeds on self-destruction. This is the ever-present death drive, the call to drown in a trance of desperate productivity… no matter how much it may decay the body, the mind and the world we live in.
These dual sources both inform our drives, and we tend to keep them separate, because we are afraid of letting them touch each other. But what every creator has to learn is that there is a way to let them merge, in a way that is potent; to let them entwine. As the dance of acceptance between the light and shadow muses unfolds, this marriage of opposites is the path to the most meaningful endeavors we are capable of undertaking.
Nine of Pentacles
This card symbolizes self-sufficiency, abundance, and the enjoyment of life's luxuries. The central figure, adorned in a rich and intricate garment, exudes a sense of calm power and fulfillment. Yet there is also something sinister and grotesque about him, a touch of evil that comes with this success. The pentacles nestled in his stomach are a symbol of material success, but also hold the potential for greed and excess.
The surrounding lush foliage represents the growth that comes from hard work. Yet behind the façade of opulence and self-reliance, there may lie isolation, materialism, and superficiality. The pursuit of wealth and comfort can lead to a disconnection from others, where the lush garden becomes a gilded cage.
The small jestery figures playing amidst the vines, an echo of the main figure’s clown nose, are a reminder that to avoid the pitfalls of the Nine of Pentacles we must not take ourselves too seriously. They suggest a joyful connection with one's environment and a playful spirit, even amidst prosperity.
In its most positive reading, this card is about finding balance between the seriousness necessary for hard work and the lightness it takes to not let it consume us. It encourages us to revel in the fruits of our labor, and to take time to be truly grateful for what we have cultivated.
Ten of Pentacles
This is a card about the grief of an old life and the beginning of a new one; a life in which family, legacy and stability are at the forefront. The main focus is on the two women standing back to back. On the left, the young wild woman in her leafy dress is looking down at her howling wolf. On the right, the older woman looks up at the baby she is holding up above her head, with an ambiguous facial expression. Is she happy? Is she screaming? Is she tired? The leaves on her dress have become less apparent than the ones on the young woman’s dress. A thin belt is holding her hips tight – the hips being a place in the body where emotions are usually stacked. A small devil-child is sitting below them in a vulnerable position, suggesting a childlike sadness.
The maze on the archway above them suggests a representation of the sacred, the mystery of the world outside the home. The rest of the background surrounding the women invokes the feeling of a starry night. The ten pentacles all around them symbolize either a material life that provides stability and comfort, or guiding stars that connect the profane to the sacred.
The card is about choices made and the cyclical phases of life. Both women in the card are facets of once one another, of the same psyche. They even support each other – they have each other’s backs. As the final number of the suit, the Ten of Pentacles asks us to take an inventory of the life we have created. It reminds us that no matter which roles we find ourselves playing, the labyrinth of life is here to mirror all other paths that have either been forgotten, or have not yet been discovered. Wealth, it appears, can coexist with freedom.
Page of Pentacles
This Page is the bearer of good news in earthly matters. The card represents the beginning stages of exploring new skills or facets of oneself, especially related to the material world, body, nature, and stability.
The young Page in the image grasps the pentacle offered by the Ace of the suit, symbolizing the initiation into learning and discovery. His grounding foot, placed assertively on a rock, signifies a nascent but firm connection to the earth and a solid foundation. Despite this grounding, his body remains light and agile, emphasized by the bird and the flowing bandana, representing freedom, curiosity, and the early stages of growth.
As the child of the Pentacles court cards, this Page incarnates curiosity and interest in the world all around. He looks carefully at his surroundings, his body, his environment, and asks questions. There is an optimism and a sense of wonder here. Open-minded, open-hearted, willing to discover something good. It’s a very light, non-attached position; filled with potential, but not set on any specific destination. This card represents joy in the journey of discovery, and the excitement of being on the brink of so many unknowns.
Knight of Pentacles
An ambivalent card, for better or worse. The momentum of the Knight meets the stability of Pentacles, resulting in a striving for movement that is deeply rooted in the earth. In its most positive sense, this hints toward the power of slow, intentional work in harmony with the environment. For example, the working of the fields day after day in order to make crops grow.
The myth of the centaur also gives us a clue as to the balance that can be achieved between our human and animal nature. The human desire for progress meets the animal’s inherent wisdom of homeostasis. If we can handle the relentless energy that has propelled our culture (and arguably is leading it to its collapse), we can root it in a way that is in right relationship with the land. If not, we are likely to remain stuck in cycles of creation that overreach and lead to unnecessary destruction.
Queen of Pentacles
She is Mother Earth, and the earthly mother. She represents abundance, the joys of the body and the immediate sense of belonging in nature. She symbolizes the side of us that is nurturing, pregnant with life-giving possibilities to contribute to our environment. Her advice is to lean into what it feels like to be embodied, in physical connection with the sensuous world around us. We swim in the molecules of the air, feel the pleasure of interacting with the elements, we are cradled in a basket of roots and flowers and fungi. The Queen smiles and we answer, “Thank you for this home.”
The Queen of Pentacles is enthroned in the living earth. But soon, we children may have to mourn this Queen. Perhaps if things go this way, if we ravage her with our toys and find ourselves adrift in space, torn from the turtle's back... We might finally remember. She cannot really die. There are turtles all the way down, so to speak. She is not simply the earth, she is the matrix behind it, the force that animates it. This we can never escape, as denizens of life. One way or another, our beings will eventually be back in tune with hers.
King of Pentacles
This King builds his kingdom and upholds it, comfortably but firmly. He asks that we tend to our existing projects with slow and steady energy, and wants us to know that confidence in the process of growth itself is key. Bodies, gardens, relationships, finances, all grow by themselves if we put the right energy into them at the right time. They have a life of their own whose natural response to positive stimulus is expansion.
The King of Pentacles is one who has mastered the way to skillfully apply this stimulus, then stand back and enjoy the results. He is the stable, abundant, generative power behind the kaleidoscope of life on earth. Spreader of seeds, mushroom spores, jaws of a mantis, eye of an alligator, cortex of a brain. If the Queen of Pentacles is the cradle of the world, the King is the movement that rocks it. He asks us to care, as inhabitants of this living being, for the parts of it we can touch.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank the people who participated, indirectly or directly, in the creation of this project. I give my gratitude to Michèle, André, and Stéfanie Clermont for their unwavering support; to J.F. Martel and Phil Ford (Weird Studies), Joshua Schrei (The Emerald), and Sophie Strand (The Flowering Wand) for their profoundly inspiring words; and to Yasmina Tawil for all her help, and all her love.
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