A Basic Guide to Tarot
By Rhyd Wildermuth
Originally published behind a paywall at From The Forests of Arduinna.
Also available as a downloadable PDF
The Basics of Divination
All methods of divination function in a similar way, regardless their specific mechanism. Each opens the person up to the realm, sphere, or faculty that Islamic esotericists—following the Greeks—called “the imaginal.”
The imaginal is easiest understood as an intermediary between the mind and the larger realm of the divine or the external. There, in the imaginal, what is outside us is translated into symbols, images, or the drama of dreams. Imagination is somewhat the same process in the other direction, our attempts to translate our ideas, feelings, and existence into symbols or literally “images.”
Regardless whether you believe in many gods, in one god, in no gods, or whatever, this external world is an easily-accepted premise. What differs in each view is what that external world consists of, and divination can work regardless of your specific belief or conclusions.
So, some might believe it’s a way that God or angels communicate with us. Others might believe it’s how spirits, gods, and ancestors convey insight. More materialist or atheist sorts might see this as the “unconscious,” or our own suppressed insights revealing themselves, as in a mirror.
Tarot, especially, fits very well in all three frameworks, and especially the third. In fact, it’s particularly useful as a method of self-development, a kind of cognitive therapy in which you learn how the processes of your own mind affect the way you see the world, yourself, and others.
More so, that self-development is an essential skill for other frameworks. If you don’t know how your mind works, if you don’t understand your own tendencies, biases, or fears, and especially if you don’t know how to listen to your own instincts and intuition, then you won’t be able to distinguish what’s an internal sensation—or your own imagination—from what’s coming from outside or through the imaginal.
What Tarot Is and Isn’t
Tarot is a kind of cartomancy, meaning divination by cards. The second half of the word (-mancy) derives from a Greek word that referred to prophets, oracles, and the associated spirits.
Tarot’s specific origins are unclear and quite contested. It appears to be a composite form of divination, borrowing symbols from several older forms. Cartomancy itself was practiced by several different cultures, but the earliest evidence of the Tarot as we know is from the 15th century in what is now Italy.
It’s usually stated that Tarot was originally a kind of game that later came to be used for divination. This may be true, though it’s also just as likely that its game nature was a way of hiding its divinatory aspects from Catholic authorities. Regardless, that dual nature is typical of most divination methods: a coin toss, for example, repurposes an object used for buying things into something completely different.
The Tarot most people are familiar with, the “Rider-Waite” Tarot, is quite new. It was created by members of The Golden Dawn, an esoteric magical society in England (William Yeats was a member of this society, as was Oscar Wilde’s wife, Constance Lloyd). The paintings were made by Pamela Coleman Smith, who was also part of The Golden Dawn and was a suffragette.
Many of its images are based loosely on older Tarots, while others were conceived through the work of Arthur E. Waite. Waite was a historian of Western occult practices, and was not only a member of the Golden Dawn but also of the Freemasons. So, many of its symbols and images borrow heavily from these traditions, as well as from Western astrology and Islamic alchemist traditions, and some are completely new.
Most newer Tarot decks borrow heavily from this one. One that I’ve used for a very, very long time is the Druidcraft Tarot, primarily because I resonate better with its painting style. There are some that do not at all borrow from Rider-Waite, usually called “oracle cards.” These can be quite useful, of course, but if you’re just starting to learn, this guide will be most helpful if your deck is more “traditional.”
No deck is more “true” than the other. In fact, the first step to learning any divination is to release your death-grip on the idea of truth as a one-to-one correspondence. To see the problem with that notion, consider the “truth” of poetry. What does a poem “really mean?” If it’s good poetry, than it cannot be reduced to any one singular meaning.
Each card is like this, too. No card has “true” meanings, but lots of significations on multiple levels that unfold in a reading. As with a poem, subtle meanings build upon each other, shading or tinting each subsequent image. Think of the way color shifts and fades into other color in a painting, or the way harmonies play in a symphony, or how sunlight illuminates a landscape differently in each hour, and you’re closer to understanding how Tarot works.
This poetic skill cannot really be taught, but it can be learned and developed. Eastern spiritual traditions such as Taoism are founded upon this kind of thinking-feeling, so reading the Tao Te Ching may be very helpful. But just as helpful would be sitting in a garden all day, or walking in a forest.
Reading Tarot
You read Tarot like you read a poem or the clouds. Approaching it with a playful curiosity rather than a demand to know the future will get you very far. And, though you’re probably going to use it often to try to understand situations, relationships, and others around you, think of it more as the mirrored surface of a still lake, rather than a window into the cosmos. Your thoughts will reflect back to you, as will your hopes, fears, biases, and everything else. Some of that stuff will be at the bottom of the lake, some of it will be behind you in the sky, some of it will be on your own face. And sometimes, something else will be in your vision that you couldn’t see looking at it directly.
The easiest way to start is with a three-card pull after shuffling the deck. It doesn’t matter how you shuffle, nor do you really “need” any of the many rituals people suggest before reading. These can be useful, however: marking off your mundane world, shutting it out a bit, is a good way to enter into the thinking-feeling you’ll need for Tarot or any other divination. If you’re new to all this, go ahead and use these. Light incense, lay down a cloth, say a short prayer, light a candle, whatever. These can all help, but they’re not the source of the divination, nor their cause, just the way to get you to a point where you can actually be present for what you’re doing.
It also doesn’t matter how you pull the cards. Don’t think too much about this, and definitely do not fret that you’re doing it wrong. Shuffling (traditionally at least seven times) and then taking the top three cards is perfect. Or you can “cut” the deck after the shuffle. It really doesn’t matter.
While you’re doing all this, think on a question, a problem, or a situation about which you’re curious. Say it aloud if you’re comfortable with that. Start with a simple and emotionally-neutral one, rather than something stressful.
The Question
Before you even pull the cards, formulating this question opens you into the imaginal realm.
Consider how we very rarely ask ourselves things. When’s the last time you’ve asked yourself if you’re happy, or satisfied, or if you’re doing your best, or if you’re lacking anything? We almost never ask such things, except when there’s a crisis. In Tarot, we get to learn to ask these questions before a crisis, and we get a clearer idea of the results of certain actions or decisions that we usually don’t consider.
In other words, we rarely “reflect” on our life, but with Tarot or other methods of divination, you make the decision to do so. You may not always understand what you see or even like it, because you might find there are many unexamined things about yourself or your situation that surprise you. It’s also equally likely that you’ll discover some unnoticed joy or wonder, something you didn’t see because you’d never stopped to think about it before.
It’s best to phrase the question simply, and to realise that often what we think of as questions are really just statements. For instance, consider the question, “is my wife cheating on me?” You’ve not actually asked a question at all, but rather made the statement, “I’m worried my wife is cheating on me.” In such cases, the question should instead be rephrased along the lines of, “I’m afraid my wife is cheating on me, what should I do?”
Once the question is asked, then pull three cards, one after another, and lay them in a line. The first card will signify the past, the foundation, or the “root.” The second is the present, the trunk, or the structure. The third is a potential future, a result, or the branches. The meaning of each card will influence or shade the meaning of the next, and the three together will create a theme.
An Example
We’ll use a reading I did specifically for the purposes of writing this guide. I just pulled three cards while asking the question, “how do I better balance my work and the rest of my life?”
Keep in mind that this question also contains a statement: “I feel my work and the rest of my life are out of balance.” So, inherent in the question are other questions, including “why do I feel this imbalance?” “What’s causing this imbalance?” And many other related questions.
Now, I pulled the following three cards: the Princess of Cups (the Page of Cups in Rider-Waite), The Lovers, and the Lady (the Empress in Rider-Waite).
The first card, the Page or Princess of Cups, is in the “foundation” or “past” position. This is the root or grounding of the situation of imbalance I’m in, or it is the root of the solution to that imbalance. Both readings are possible, but the subsequent cards will give more context for this. This card has traditional meanings of childhood innocence, playfulness, and the early parts or stages of creativity, as well as sometimes also suggesting a new child, love, or dream, or the arrival of good news.
The second card is the Lovers, and this is in the “present,” “structure,” or “trunk” position. It’s easy to see this card as meaning actual lovers or the consummation of a relationship, etc. However, this is only a very surface reading. The Lovers also signifies surrender (as you surrender to love), the power of being vulnerable, union with a person or a principle, and also the idea of active choice.
The third card, the Lady or Empress, is in the fulfillment, potential outcome, result, or “branches” position. Traditional interpretations of this card often relate it to childbirth, whether literal or figurative, through the idea of fertility. Other shades of meaning include abundance, love, a maternal sense of rootedness, renewed sexual passion or passion for life, and compassion.
So, now we have the three cards with their many threads of meaning weaving into each other, all arrayed to help me answer the question of how to better balance work and the rest of my life. From these threads I can immediately pick out one that runs through all three: sexual drive and passion. Also, they seem to tell a story: the page or princess unites with a lover and gives birth. As a metaphor for a creative project, this is quite a good one, especially since the central card, The Lovers, reminds that we need union or collaboration with others to manifest our creative desires.
Both of these narratives together seem to indicate that the path out of imbalance requires starting with the playful desire of creativity. I love writing, and it’s my greatest passion. However, it’s easy to lose sight of how much I love it because it’s also my work. Especially recently, I’ve often forgotten how much fun this is, and I’ve often let the stress of deadlines, pressure from others, and the need for financial support get in the way of this primary joy.
If that’s the case, then the second card, the Lovers, reminds me I have choice in how my writing is done, and also that I’ve specifically chosen to do things which get in the way of that original passion. This means I can easily change these things, as I’m the one who did this. At the same time, the Lovers points to the power of sexual passion, which is also creative passion. Writing is really like sex: my ideas are thrust into others who’ve been drawn towards them by their own desire. I’m also seduced by the ideas of others. Remembering this “sexual” aspect fuels more passion, and helps me surrender to its joys.
This leads us to the final card, literally fruition. The Empress isn’t a card about creativity, but rather actual creation. It’s the material, sensual, and emotional connection to the self and to others, “the rest of my life” in the question, “how do I balance work and the rest of my life?” The card’s presence at the end reminds me not to read the previous cards as related only to work, but rather to look where my passion might be too invested in work and not enough in the rest of my life.
So, one way of reading these cards, the one I’ve settled on, is that to have a better balance of work and the rest of my life, I need to make active choices about where I direct my passion. This, then, leads to more questions that I’ll be asking myself now:
What do I enjoy, want, and desire that I’m putting on hold because of my work?
How can I stoke my passion for life, and who can help me do that?
What does a truly abundant life look like for me?
What am I doing this all for?
And there’s also one more interpretation I’d be remiss if I didn’t consider, since all three cards are associated with sexual passion and love. The answer to this feeling of imbalance might be really simple, actually: maybe I should have more sex. Especially for someone who thinks all the time, who is always in his head, sex is a very powerful way of reminding that you’re also a body, regrounding you into physical reality.
Interpreting the Meaning of Individual Cards
It’s best to start with a published guide when you begin, but also to keep in mind that it’s only a guide and that cards do not have have singular “true” meanings. The process is a lot like learning a new language. At the beginning, you “translate” meanings in your head until you finally intuitively grasp all the layers and shades of a symbol.
One thing that not all guides cover, a point that will help speed your understanding of the symbols, is that there is an internal logic in the relationship of cards to each other. These relationships are cycles, and there are several different cyclical processions in the Tarot.
The primary one is the Major Arcana, starting with the Fool and ending with The World. This is sometimes called “The Fool’s Journey,” and each card is associated with a state of development.
Another cyclical procession is the numbered cards of each suit in the Minor Arcana. These process from one (aces) to ten, and then back again. In this procession, 10 is also a kind of one but also a kind of zero, the place where the circle ends and begins again, as with the ouroboros eating its own tail.
The third kind of cycle is the court cards of each suit. There are four of each, from Page (or Knave, or Princess) to King. These are most associated with states of awareness or developmental stages linked to age.
And of course, the minor arcana is divided into four suits. Each of these suits is also associated with an element, and so it’s helpful to understand the associations of elements to mind, body, emotions, and will. Here’s a shorthand version of these associations:
Cups/Chalices: Elemental Water. Creativity, passion, emotions, the heart, inspiration, intuition. The arts, especially music and theatre.
Swords: Elemental air. Thought, ideas, the intellect, mind. Also learning, technology, and the sciences. The written arts.
Pentacles/Coins: Elemental Earth. The literal earth, physical existence, structure, the body. Wealth, exchange, sport, and work.
Wands/Batons/Staves: Elemental Fire. Will, desire, creation, sense of self in the world. Charm, enchantment, politics and power. The movement arts, like dance or martial arts.
The Cycles of Procession & Return in the Minor Arcana
Before I go any further, I need to clarify that I don’t use reversed card readings. Reversed cards can be helpful for really in-depth readings, but I find them unnecessary for shorter ones. When I do use them, I think of reversals not as opposites but rather “diminished” meanings. That means that the associations are only for upright cards, and it’s ideal to start learning only upright meanings at first anyway.
Each suit of numbered cards tells a story of procession through the elemental understandings, from 1 to 10. Each number corresponds to a certain degree of development, based on a specific magical thought. Each builds from all the numbers before and has resonances with earlier numbers (3 resonates with 6 and 9, for example). When contemplating these cycles, it’s very important not to think of any number as positive or negative, but rather like alternating stitches in a fabric.
These are the basic associations of each number:
One or Ace: initiation, a new beginning.
Two: the one split into two to understand itself. Think of the way a fertilized egg in the womb splits in two.
Three: the instability or tension of a binary balanced by a third. Think synthesis after thesis + antithesis, or the way a plane is defined by three points.
Four: Structure, the element manifests into concrete form, like the four walls of a house.
Five: Introduction of movement or change to structure, which always creates a kind of tension, disturbance, or conflict.
Six: A second level of synthesis or resolution after the disturbance of movement
Seven: The introduction of the spiritual or external into the six earthly planes, an intersection of an unknown that complicates all previous understandings.
Eight: Structure and power informed by a more celestial/spiritual understanding, the result of applying or integrating the external introduced by seven.
Nine: “Attainment without completion.” Fulfillment of the assumed goal, a third synthesis after Three and Six. There is regardless something absent.
Ten: The line reveals itself to be a circle. Completion which leads to initiation, an answer to a question in the form of another question.
Again, it’s ideal to use a published guide at first when reading the cards. The following is a list of shorthand meanings from my own experience which may also help yours.
Wands/Batons:
The cyclical path of developing and mastering will, desire, creation (as opposed to creativity, which is more cups), power (political or personal), the “spark” that inhabits life.
Ace: Initiation of an idea, desire, thirst for life.
Two: A door opens, will moves outside itself.
Three: Freedom, open horizons, self-assurance. Wanderlust.
Four: Joy, celebration, un-walled sense of home, fire fed by open air.
Five: Conflict from competing wills, awareness others desire differently.
Six: Triumph of will, freedom that comes from being led by desire.
Seven: A fuller sense of the influence of others’ will on yours.
Eight: Connection to greater forces and movement of will outside your own, “currents” of will (divine, etc).
Nine: Strong, enduring will developed after exhausting struggle.
Ten: Will becomes a burden, your own and others. A new initiation needed.
Coins/Pentacles:
The cyclical path of developing physical presence and power. “Wealth,” labor/work, stability, exchange.
Ace: Initiation of wealth, strength, rootedness, physical presence.
Two: Wealth and muscles must be used for them to grow. Playful strain or exchange.
Three: Collaboration, partnership, study, training, investing wealth into others or into time (like university studies, etc).
Four: Accumulated wealth or strength. Think fat put on for the winter, money in the bank. Sense of no movement, a pause in growth.
Five: The famine at the end of winter, poverty, financial loss of injury. The cycle of nature takes its due. Sometime the “divorce” or “widow” card; specifically the fear of how you’ll get by on your own.
Six: Triumph of body or wealth: gifts rather than exchange.
Seven: The earth as the true source of wealth, fruition not just financial but the earth giving abundantly, understanding of seasons of growth and shrinkage.
Eight: Working towards something whose end you might not even see, the mystery of work’s joy in itself, rather than its results. Very large undertakings.
Nine: “The walled garden.” Everything you need is provided, but with a question: “was this all there really is to life?”
Ten: Everything is secure, stable. Security, wealth, no lack. But without lack, there is no desire, thus the cycle must begin again.
Cups:
The cyclical path of developing senses, feeling, love, connection. Creativity, rather than creation. Think especially of water flowing, both as rivers and also the rain cycle.
Ace: Initiation of hope, sensation, feeling, joy.
Two: The minor lovers, as opposed to the major. Courtship, flirtation, love for someone rather than love in general.
Three: Love and feeling shared among others, the friendship card.
Four: A paradox—love, joy, and feeling cannot be structured, controlled, or contained. Attempts to do so end in stagnation, like a dammed river or a person who has eaten too much. Sometimes jealousy, narcissism, or alcoholism.
Five: Loss, heartbreak, fear. Some dreams die, some feelings fade. In such times we forget what persists.
Six: Triumph of connection and love through memory, an understanding of sustained feelings and quieter loves.
Seven: Fantasy, an understanding of how what we feel, love, and want is affected by external influences.
Eight: Desire for the unknown, whether spiritual or unseen. Search for the source of love and dream, rather than its manifestation.
Nine: Everything you could want, feel. Attainment but someone/something is absent.
Ten: Full connection, love. A very happy card, but again leads to the beginning of the cycle.
Swords:
Mind, intellect, consciousness, ideas.
Ace: Initiation of an idea, a thought, a mental awareness
Two: Introduction of its opposite, two paths, a decision with no clear guidance.
Three: the “heartbreak” card. But remember, swords aren’t love or emotions, but mental life. So, often it’s a third option or idea you hadn’t considered that turns an either/or into something more complicated.
Four: Rest, meditation after exhaustion. Without rest, the mind become anxious. The need for structured thinking and not-thinking.
Five: Defeat, humiliation, and resulting humility. The war of minds cannot always be won, nor should it be.
Six: Triumph of intellectual work or struggle leading to an awareness you cannot gloat. This is the “rebuild from ruins” card, with a sense of forgiveness or the need to move on.
Seven: The “thief” card, but also the genius card. Sense of larger forces at work that you cannot account for in your thinking. Thought applied differently opens up new understanding.
Eight: The key to this card is the self-tied blindfold. Your structured way of thinking or your worldview blinds you to what you need to know or see.
Nine: The attainment of intellectual mastery over something resulting in obsession with it. Seen as a very negative card, but the important part is that this has all been in your head, not in the world. Think on the genius who invents a brilliant invention as a solution to a problem, only to find out it creates other problems.
Ten: The mind “conquers.” Think of the end scene of a war film, where now the soldiers have to return home and ask “what was this all for?” Even if it was the soldiers who died in the film, now you will leave the theater and ask that question…
The Cycles of the Court Cards
Each card represents both a stage of life and a stage of embodiment of the associated suit/element. They can also represent specific people, influences, or events. Again, all stages are equally important, and it’s important to remember that we move through each at many times in our life.
Here are the basic associations of each court card:
Page or Knave: Childhood, early understanding, naivety and innocence, minor influences
Knights: Youth/adolescence and its corresponding understandings, impetuousness and drive, moderate influences
Queens: Women, mothers, matriarchal, internal/embodied understandings. Feminine/receptive traits, significant feminine influences.
Kings: Men, fathers, patriarchal, externally-manifested understandings. Masculine/assertive traits, significant masculine influences.
The Pages:
Page of Wands: Imagine a child playing with a stick, pretending to be a wizard or a warrior. Awareness of what one can be, beginning of an understanding of will as something you hold in your hands.
Page of Swords: the “student” card. Imagine a child staring at his father’s (hopefully unloaded) rifle, or looking at the pictures in a textbook he cannot read yet. Beginning of an understanding how thought affects the world or a situation.
Page of Cups: Picture a child playing make-believe or having a tea-party with imaginary friends. This is the beginning of the understanding of the power of dream, imagination, and belief.
Page of Pentacles: Imagine a child thinking about all the things she can buy with her allowance, unaware yet how little that really is, or planting an acorn in the ground, not yet knowing how long it will take to become a massive tree. The early sense of awareness of the body and physical aspects. Sometimes an unexpected small financial gift or a child.
The Knights:
Knight of Wands: the “revolutionary.” Rushes in, sets a fire, and flees when it gets out of hand. Will as an impetuous power that is not yet sustained by training, discipline, or practice. The impatient spark that lights a fire, unconcerned whether there’s enough fuel to sustain it. Sometimes long journeys.
Knight of Swords: “Don Quixote.” Rushes in like the knight of wands, but wants to fight, not flee after. Abrupt conflict, “speaking your mind” even if it’s not the best time. Sometimes fights the wrong target, other times starts necessary wars. Sometimes, a sudden message from afar.
Knight of Cups: the “romantic dreamer” or the “grail knight.” Flirtation without foreseen commitment, charm and artistic expression without deeper emotional depth. Often the beginning of relationships, projects, or courtships, the early “crush” phase that inspires but eventually will require more to be sustained.
Knight of Pentacles: This is the “jock” card, confidence in the body before it’s known very well. Also associated with good health—usually a reminder to enjoy physical reality, to go for a walk, or to eat well.
The Queens:
Queen of Wands: Think of an elegant and charming host or leader who is confident in herself, what she wants, and what she means to people. The way fire “dances” as it burns, or the way a dancer doesn’t think about the steps as she dances.
Queen of Cups: Emotional security and certainty, free to love and be loved without being self-conscious. Intuition, sympathy in the sense of being able to put oneself in someone else’s feelings, rather than just pity. This is also the “actor” card, in the sense that actors can take on many roles but never lose sight of their true nature.
Queen of Swords: Deep confidence in one’s own abilities and insights, sometimes also extreme independence. Think of the older woman who has never needed a man and is happy being alone with her thoughts and work.
Queen of Pentacles: Think on a hearty, strong, plain woman with a big body, a bigger laugh, and a dinner table that is always full of food. A rooted abundance, confidence in ones relationship to the earth and wealth. The ultimate “mother” card.
The Kings:
King of Wands: The true “king,” a leader of people through vision and will without force. Full confidence in the rightness of your will or desires, which others easily recognise and do not contest. Leading and inspiring others, sometimes at the cost of having no new visions yourself.
King of Cups: The established artist, actor, musician, fully connected to inspiration and desire, which makes him extremely calm and unshakeable. The fully-confident lover in a long and usually monogamous relationship. Finds happyness easily from within, which can sometimes seem like stagnation.
King of Swords: The brilliant thinker or scientist whose mind works like a perfect sword. If in authority positions, can be very heartless. “The greater good” and utilitarian thinking. The ultimate “impartial judge” card.
King of Pentacles: This is the fully satisfied man of wealth who now can leave a legacy. Every material need is easily met and foreseen. Also, the aging bodybuilder or old man who still runs marathons. Like the king of swords, though, this can lead to a kind of heartlessness, manifested in lack of concern for the poverty of others or willful ingnorance of esoteric and spiritual pursuits.
The Major Arcana
The cards of the Major Arcana are the first ones which appeared, while the Minor Arcana was developed later. This “major” status also points to the much more complex meaning of each card, and also how they tend to represent more significant influences on a matter than the others.
Learning these can take a long time, and that’s how it should be. Again, though, knowing the implied procession inherent to their numbering can make this easier for you. This is what’s been called “The Fool’s Journey,” since it starts with the Fool (usually numbered 0) and ends with the World (XXII). Each card describes some part of an alchemical or esoteric process of personal development, while also having other associations as well.
The key here is in the Fool card itself, usually depicted as a man with a bag over his shoulder, stepping out blindly into the world. He appears to be about to walk off a cliff, but in that current moment, he is innocent of all motives, fears, worries, and needs. Stepping off that cliff sets him on a journey where he learns to inhabit all the truths about existence. At the end of that journey is the world, which again prefigures the beginning of the journey again.
I cannot possibly hope to describe all the meanings of each card for you. However, as before, these are some short-hands and observations that may help you:
0, The Fool: Innocence, selflessness. A beginning, curiosity. Everything you need is at hand, but you don’t know this or you want more. Additional sense of letting yourself “not know.”
I, The Magician: The beginning of understanding of agency and larger forces. The tools in the magician’s hands were in the Fool’s bag.
II, The High Priestess: Awareness of mystery, unconscious or hidden forces and influences, affects of dreams, power of illusions and enchantment. Feminine magic.
III, The Empress or Lady: Fertility, abundance, the creative force of earth and nature, birth. Feminine power of unrestrained creation and mothering.
IV, The Emperor or the Lord: Order, masculine power, authority, structure, fatherhood. This is the masculine power of culling, creating boundaries, protecting things.
V, The Heirophant or High Priest: Tradition, religion. Spiritual knowledge or magic channeled into structure for greater good. This is often associated with formal learning or study. The mystery of marriage: love structured through commitment.
VI, The Lovers: the union of oppositions, the masculine and feminine of the earlier cards united through sexual union. Surrender, choice, and love.
VII, The Chariot: The key here is the two horses. Mastery of the polarity of masculine and feminine, creation and destruction, and other opposing forces leads to victory and the development of will. Also sometimes indicates actual journeys.
VIII, Strength: The mastery and confidence from The Chariot leads to self-assurance. This card is like the Tao, a light touch to life and struggle rather than force or violence
IX, The Hermit: The self-mastery of Strength and the Chariot leads to withdrawal to seek deeper wisdom, an “inner guide.” Initial connection to the unconscious or spirits through contemplation, prayer, or reflection.
X, The Wheel: Awareness of greater cycles and patterns. The wheel turns, and it must turn: knowing this helps us benefit from these cycles while not holding too tightly to being “on top.”
XI, Justice: The awareness of cycles and patterns from The Wheel leads to the inevitability and importance of decision. The blade of justice can cut chains or end lives, and we hold that blade. An understanding of the effects of our actions and choices.
XII, The Hanged Man: This is the Fool again, this time calmly enduring or waiting. Usually an “initiation” of some sort, power forged from suffering or wisdom that comes when you no longer look for it.
XIII, Death: We die many, many times, and the physical death is just the last of these deaths. A death is coming or has happened. Time to compost what remains so there’s room for more life.
XIV, The Alchemist or Temperance: The metal of a sword is tempered, making it flexible enough not to break when it hits something. That flexibility is the key to endurance and resilience. Think of the way a willow bends in the wind while other trees might break.
XV, The Devil: In almost all depictions for this card, the lovers are bound by ropes or chains they can very easily remove. This is similar to message in the 8 of swords: problems are often of our own making, and we often don’t really want to change anything.
XVI, The Tower: As with Death, destruction is necessary for creation. Sometimes we need external influence for necessary change. There’s a sense of enlightenment or illumination here, as when our old ways of thinking die and we suddenly see the world anew. Sometimes also love, as in the French coup de foudre (lightning strike).
XVII, The Star: Connection to the world, yourself, and sources of inspiration. Important to note the woman’s foot in the water, and that she’s pouring that same water back into the lake while also watering the earth. Think “conduit” for the flow of life.
XVIII, The Moon: This is the “imaginal” realm, where dreams speak to us in languages we intuitively understand but cannot articulate. Secrets, things hidden from view, wisdom that science cannot explain.
XIX, The Sun: Joy from innocence, with nothing hidden. This is the illumination of the intellect, rather than the intuition, the counterpart of the Moon.
XX, Judgment or Rebirth: An important point is the trumpet. Something calls you to new life or understanding, a call prefigured in the final card. A strong sense of meaning or purpose, a fulfillment of earlier goals, or a resolution of the previous journey.
XXI: The World: The dancing figure is the hanged man after the initiation is complete. The figure is often hermaphroditic, representing alchemical unity. Complete, needing nothing, lacking nothing, fully-connected. Innocent again, which of course leads next to the Fool and another journey.
Rhyd Wildermuth
Rhyd is a druid, theorist, and writer. He lives in the Ardennes, and writes From the Forests of Arduinna.