Discovering the suits: The Swords in tarot

Editor’s Note: If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article explains how to use the spread. You can visit Sarah’s website here. –efc

By Sarah Taylor

Swords have played an important role in some of the recent Weekend Tarot Readings — most notably the one this past weekend.

Because of this, I’ve decided to dispense with protocol and focus on Swords as our first exploration into the suits in a tarot deck. Usually, I’d address the suits in the order in which they traditionally appear (i.e. Wands, Cups, Swords, Pentacles — and more on that later), but the Swords are calling loud and clear for attention. Perhaps this is entirely appropriate: As the frequently maligned, much-misunderstood denizens of the minor arcana, we might need a little more time to get to know them, to give them breathing space to come into their own without our preconceptions attached to them, to hear their particular language.

Swords have a ‘fearsome’ reputation in that they have a tendency to bring up more feelings of fear than any of the other suits. Mention Swords, and those familiar with tarot will often react with a slight shiver, a sharp intake of breath through their teeth, as if steeling themselves for something unpleasant. Lay a Swords card down in a reading, and many clients will react similarly: They might not know what Swords represent, but the images for many Swords cards across many decks (including the Rider-Waite Smith deck) don’t pull any punches. Think of the Three of Swords — three blades piercing through a red heart. Or the Nine of Swords — a lone figure in bed, head in hands, wracked with despair. Or the Ten of Swords (which came up in the last Weekend Tarot Reading) — a figure impaled on the ground by ten swords running up his back.

Let’s see if we can give them a different reputation today. At least, let’s see if we can relate to them differently — more objectively.

Swords are the third suit in the tarot’s minor arcana. The minor arcana is based on a traditional card deck, with one extra card in each suit (the Pages in the Rider-Waite Smith deck), and embodies the day-to-day experience of our lives in terms of people, places and events. The four suits in the minor arcana come in a specific order for good reason: Collectively, they represent the transition from spirit into matter, or from the non-incarnate to the manifest.

Wands are pure creative energy, the drive behind everything. They in turn feed into Cups — emotions — which are more ‘concrete’ in terms of our being able to identify them and qualify them. They are, however, still intangible, their boundaries indistinct and permeable. Swords come next — our thoughts. They are more solid because although they are still an inner process, they are associated with language, which can be spoken and written, and they have clearer boundaries: We are more easily able to identify what we are thinking than what we are feeling. Finally, Pentacles are the tangible world — anything we can meet with our five senses. They are the sum total of the preceding suits, which have combined to form matter (an idea embodied in The Magician in the major arcana).

Here, in a nutshell, are all the Swords cards with their corresponding meanings:

Ace of Swords – Insight at its purest. Aces are the highest potential of their suit, so the Ace here is acuity of thought and vision that slices through everything else. The Ace is present, for example, when we have a moment of inspiration — a big idea. Eureka!

Two of Swords – Many interpretations see this card as negative, unseeing. However, if you look at the swords, they are held in a very balanced way, and one that is not suggestive of conflict. I see this as an alliance or a ceasefire, where we are impartial (blindfolded) to the exhortations of the outside world. It may only be temporary, and not all the facts may have come to light yet (we are, after all, in moonlight in this card), but there is a peacefulness about it, reflected in the calm waters behind the seated figure.

Three of Swords – In its most concrete expression, this refers to a love triangle, or a division of allegiances. Someone or something is feeling torn, and although emotions are indicated, it is our thoughts about our feelings that are crucial here. What thoughts about what it is that is happening are causing the most pain and damage? The heart is highly stylised. Just what is real here?

Four of Swords – This is an enforced rest between battles, and a tending to body and soul. The sleeping figure expresses the idea of the need for us to stop working so hard because it will only cause more damage. Instead, we are being advised to seek help and sustenance that will help us to regroup and go back out into the world. This is not a sign to hit the gym or change direction. It is a sign to stop, rest and go within.

Five of Swords – There has been a conflict and someone has emerged victorious, but at the expense of others. This card speaks about what happens when we go into a battle and we fight dirty and winner takes all. The battle has already happened, though, so what is it that we are choosing to do in its aftermath?

Six of Swords – Something is being left behind as we move from one state to another. This card can often represent a geographical relocation, but if it doesn’t, then we are navigating the map of our minds and seeking newer, and calmer, waters. The outcome is unclear — indicated by the swords blocking the view of those in the boat — but something has already been set in motion and all present factors are aiding our passage.

Seven of Swords – There is something that we are taking for ourselves or, to put it another way, withholding from others. This is not done in the open, as with the Five, but by stealth, and the stealth may be conscious or unconscious. We feel an outsider to the goings-on in the tournament tents in the background, but it might be that we have consigned ourselves to this position.

Eight of Swords – We are feeling bound and trapped, but it is only our perceptions of the situation that are holding us in check: The bandages around us are just that — bandages — and if we were to shake them loose, we could remove our blindfold and see that the swords are not manned. They are a superficial barricade, incompletely encircling us, their blades point-down in the ground, harmless. The water at the figure’s feet is but a puddle. Things are not as overpowering as they seem; we have much more control than we believe.

Nine of Swords – We feel alone, in anguish and despair, our thoughts about something hanging over us like the swords above the bed. This is a time of profound pain, but we are covered by a blanket of roses — love — and astrological glyphs — the cosmos. Something out there acknowledges our plight as it is extending comfort and protection. We simply need to open our eyes — our mind’s eyes — to see it and to feel it.

Ten of Swords – The moment of surrender has passed, and the dark night of the soul is clearing: The skies in the distance are cloud-free, the blackness above giving way to them. We have reached the point of defeat, but there is a serenity to be had here, signified by the mudra sign that the figure forms with his fingers. This particular mudra is the Prithvi Mudra, which is used to experience happiness. Even as there is defeat, there is the expressed wish for something different.

Page of Swords – Young and proud, the Page of Swords is also impulsive: His sword is drawn and his body, although clothed casually, is angled for a swing. In an article on the Pages, I wrote that the Page of Swords “inhabits his cloudy, roiling, wind-blasted landscape with an alertness that suggests a keen — sometimes to the point of slight or injury — analytical presence.” Enjoy the feeling of working with ideas that are new and exciting … but keep an eye out. Something might need to be kept in check with a little more wisdom.

Knight of Swords – The Knight is impulsive, mercurial, an adversary to be reckoned with, potentially damaging in the things that he says and he does. Even his horse looks a little wary! This is mental agility and intellect that is asking to be reined in at times. Everything in this card denotes movement; stillness is required too, in order to find a sense of balance.

Queen of Swords – Dignified, sober, “the Queen wields the sword of reason, which is thrust above the clouds and into the blue. Her mind rises above confusion and her hand points forward, her resolve apparent in her face, as she sees the way through the turbulence. She is in control of her thoughts — also seen in the fact that she wears a cloak that mirrors the sky: it is in service to her, not she to it.” This card talks of mastery and devotion to her rulership, and while Swords are a masculine suit, the Queen retains her femininity, most obviously symbolised by her hair, her robes, and the golden butterflies on her head.

King of Swords – The King embodies the archetype of Solomon: He is wise, sees clearly, understands the damage that swords can wreak in the wrong hands and with a lack of insight and consciousness. He faces us head-on, all-seeing, authoritative, direct. Yet in spite of the strength of his acuity, his robes are soft, sky-blue and blood-red. He has soul too, and a connection to the body, as well as to reserves of compassion. He, and the Queen, hold the highest human potential for an equilibrium of mind, attitude, intellect, beliefs.

So Swords represent thought, which can be expanded to intellect, beliefs — any and all mental processes. Whenever mind has a hand in anything, Swords are present. Like all of the other cards in the minor arcana, each of the Swords cards will never deal exclusively with the qualities of its suit. The tarot is holistic; nothing exists in isolation. A tarot deck might be divided into three main sections — major arcana, minor arcana ‘pip’ cards and the court cards — but even these are never separate and linear. Each overlays the others, telling stories, streams feeding into the narrative, referring to different levels, qualities and experiences in our lives.

In the same way, Swords, as the ‘mind cards’, will impact and be impacted by the other three suits, but the Sword energy will be the prevailing one. For example, the Three of Swords deals with emotions — how can it not with that heart dominating the picture? — and with how that manifests in the outer world, all underpinned by the flow of energy/libido. But it is the mental processes surrounding the Three of Swords that are what we are being called to focus on. What is it about our attitudes or beliefs that is creating or precipitating the experience of the Three of Swords? How is it that our thoughts about the situation it describes are affecting our feelings, our environment, and our creative drive?

Swords have a way of eclipsing our focus on the other factors at play in a layout: We spend so much time caught up in what they could mean for us that we forget that Swords are not dominant — they are simply one of four key players in life. This mirrors the importance that we tend to give our thoughts over any other experience that we might have, inner or outer. Swords, like our thoughts, seem to be the ‘trump’ factor, negating any other cards that they are partnered with. True, their keenness is a little hard to ignore given that we all know what happens when we’re at the sharp end of any situation. But when we plunge into Swords territory at the cost of all other experience — when we let them, like our thoughts, get the better of our good sense — we forget how powerful the other suits can be for us: consuming erotic energy, deep love, a profound sense of security. When we can temper the presence of Swords with the knowledge that every other suit can be as influential, then we can start to work with them constructively.

Because, at the bottom of it all, what Swords do have to offer is something quite, quite valuable: More than any other suit, they cut through the crap. They are the friend who gives it to you straight. They are the moment of insight that clears away the fog. They are the point of decision that enables you to strike off in a better direction. They are the hard-to-ignore order to, “Do something! Now!” They’re not fuzzy and warm, they don’t dawdle off track, they don’t stop and smell the roses, they don’t pretend you’re having a good day when you aren’t. They help you to sit up and take notice of what is going on with a discerning eye and one that doesn’t let you skip the detail. You are not spared the pain, no. But neither are you spared the way out of that pain. For every slice one way, there is a slice that rebalances.