By Sarah Taylor
Two weeks ago, in Your Rendezvous with The Chariot, I wrote that tarot cards “reveal themselves to us layer by layer”. The Chariot is not only no exception — it seems to hold to this more than most other cards. Its meaning is elusive, even while the figure tends to be stationary, probably waiting for us to catch up and come along for the ride, however this particular ride chooses to present itself to us.
There is a Chariot-like feel to the astrology too — just one of the correspondences I have become increasingly aware of as a long-time Planet Waves member. (Visit the link here and find out more about the various subscription options.) As of a couple of hours ago of my writing this, the Sun moved into Aries, marking the Spring Equinox and the start of the astrological year. This is typically a time for action. Yet this time, it comes with a strong message to go carefully, to adapt and remain vigilant, to look at the ground ahead and the landscape around, paying attention to both.
Personally, I feel a bit like the jockey on a horse in the starting gates: there is a phenomenal amount of force and energy available, but it needs discipline and direction to make it work. Not enough of either, and there is a loss of momentum or a wild ride that ends up veering off track. Watch how horses and riders line up at the starting gates; I think you’ll see and feel what I mean.
But what is The Chariot about? All of the interpretations I received in my inbox and in the comments of the previous article were lucid, and all relevant. I’ll restate that: all reactions to and interpretations of a tarot card are relevant. Even the opinion that a card is irrelevant is relevant. Whatever attracts you, attracts you; whatever repels you is no less attractive.
No one gets it wrong; everything is a signpost to a process that is going on inside whomever is looking at the card. Which means that when I write about The Chariot, I’m writing about what it means to me, which may or may not intersect with what you see in it. The disadvantage to an outside interpretation is that it can inhibit your trust in your own ideas or cause you to cling to something when your intuition is drawing you another way — although these, too, are relevant and useful. The advantage is that another interpretation can open your mind up to possibilities that you hadn’t considered. Your consciousness is expanded. And that is one of the experiences that The Chariot describes.
I’m going to focus on two interpretations of The Chariot that I find useful: the first more exoteric, the second more esoteric.
This card refers generally to imminent new beginnings. It can point to a journey, or the start of some new phase (relationship, living situation, job) of life. Nothing should be decided precipitously. Everything requires exact examination and preparation. But once all the ground-work is done, the new start should not be put off unnecessarily. [Gerd Ziegler, Tarot: Mirror of the Soul]
This is what I would call a straightforward reading of The Chariot, which, I emphasise, doesn’t make it any less relevant. It evokes the image of the racehorse at the starting gate, lining up for a period of swift forward movement. This metaphor hangs on one word in particular: “preparation.” If you look at the cards, specifically the Rider-Waite Smith version, there is a juxtaposition of opposites: the walled city and the open countryside; the heavens depicted on the charioteer’s clothing and his earth-bound surroundings; the contrasted, monochromatic sphinxes.
Movement is created through the union of opposing forces. Two different things have to work together to create a third force that is translated into expansion. But to do this, there needs to be preparation, and this preparation takes the form of alignment.
Alignment is simple, but not always quite as easy. We can have all outer, physical aspects ready and waiting; we can extend this into our thoughts about what it is that we intend to do. But if these are not aligned with what we know to be true in our hearts, then we fall out of alignment. We are aligned horizontally (i.e., the physical world) but we aren’t aligned vertically (i.e., the peculiar, entirely personal agenda of the soul) — and so there is no true intersection of both planes and no integrated movement.
How do we know when we are in alignment — that our jockey and horse are exercising that delicate equilibrium between force and will before the starting gates open? Actually, we have a great barometer that tells us when we are aligned: our connection to our intuition.
In addition to its authoritative whisper, I often feel my intuition bodily, particularly when it is endeavouring to make a point that I’m ignoring. When I am aligned, I am in contact with something in my depths — a Yes that is visceral, an eternally aware sense of rightness which synchronises with the beating of my heart. When I am leaving the path of alignment, there will be one or more of these sensations or feelings: a contraction, a tugging back, an inertia, a desire to retreat into unconsciousness, a feeling of conflict, a sense of unease. My voice will say, “Yes” — will often insist yes (that’s a warning all by itself) — and my thoughts will rush in in an attempt to shore it up.
But no matter how you approach the starting gates, the journey will take place all the same. It might be curtailed; it might feel fraught, fast and loose; you might wonder who decided you got to ride the steed from hell (you did, of course.); you might fall from your ass onto your ass. Again, all of these are relevant.
Sometimes, though, when you’ve done the prep work and you are in touch with a compass that points true north, you get the ride of your life. Once you know what it feels like, you’re better equipped for the next one. You are on to the path of becoming a charioteering adept.
Another interpretative approach to The Chariot is embedded in the symbolism of various versions of the card. I see it as a development on the idea of alignment preceding movement, the unpeeling of another layer enfolding the archetype. Lon Milo DuQuette writes about it when describing the Thoth version, co-created by Aleister Crowley and Lady Frieda Harris. (You can see the Thoth card here.)
The Chariot represents the zodiac sign of Cancer, whose symbol is a not-too-subtle glyph for a particular technique of tantric yoga in which male and female energies and essences are perfectly prepared, balanced, and exchanged to create the Two-in-One elixir of life. The elixir is then conveyed in a particular manner to serve as a eucharistic talisman of unlimited creative potential. [Understanding Aleister Crowley’s Thoth Tarot]
“Perfectly prepared, balanced, … conveyed.” The first interpretation of The Chariot comes to bear, but this time in the service of something specific. Not just any project, but perhaps the central project: the creation of life. It is a symbolic coital alignment of opposites — a metaphorical and literal ‘coming together’, and the expansion into a third that issues from this. We move in meaning from ‘inside with oneself’, to ‘outside with the other’, to the expression — the outward movement — resulting from this union. It is creation itself. From The Lovers — the feminine meeting with the masculine — consciousness explodes in the biggest bang of all.
No archetype, and therefore nothing that each of the major arcana cards represents, can be fully understood by the human mind, splintered and separated as it is. When I first worked with the tarot, I used to skip straight past The Chariot, feeling no pull towards it — or, rather, no pull I wanted to concern myself with. Today, getting my mind around the ineffability of its archetype comes in spurts: language descriptive of the altogether human experience of a cosmic act.
From this new perspective that still feels frustratingly confining, I understand that I couldn’t be pulled by something that was so far out of reach of awareness that I didn’t know how to begin to relate to it. I didn’t like its complexity; I didn’t like its enigma. But we ride The Chariot whether we like it or not, and whether we know it or not.
It can take many journeys to be able to appreciate when The Chariot comes into force as an active archetype in our lives. When we reach that realisation, we see in it the mirroring of the creation of consciousness itself, we become willing drivers rather than witless passengers — and in that is held the potential for an awakening to our true origins.
“I can understand as much or as little as I want, depending on my consciousness.” [DivaCarla]
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.
Sarah, thank you for this marvelous piece. You have written of my experience in the past year – a time where I witnessed my own preparation though unsure of where it led, then the time for movement. I was aligned in the way you describe, and found much peace and stability in the midst of difficult and life changing circumstances. When I am aligned, I too feel it deeply in my body – it brings such clarity. What a gift – thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for this beautiful piece Sarah. “… we see in it the mirroring of the creation of consciousness itself, we become willing drivers rather than witless passengers” – this says it all.