The Weekend Tarot Reading — Sunday, June 24, 2012

By Sarah Taylor

I am going on sabbatical for the next few months in order to devote more time to my counselling studies. This will only affect my mid-week articles; I will continue to write the Weekend Tarot Reading on Sundays.  — Sarah

Two weeks ago, we had the Eight of Swords in the central position of the Weekend Tarot Reading. It seems that with its reappearance this week, there comes a reminder that if we are experiencing limitation, it might be useful to consider the possibility that we are responsible for holding ourselves hostage to a situation. In essence, we have the ability to break free from an idea or belief that is limiting us.

Two of Cups, Eight of Swords, Seven of Swords -- RWS Tarot deck.
Two of Cups, Eight of Swords, Seven of Swords from the Rider-Waite Smith Tarot deck. Click on the image for a larger version.

There is such a contrast between the first card on the left — the Two of Cups — and the Eight and Seven of Swords that lie to its right. It seems as if there is a struggle ensuing, the key to which I refer to in the first paragraph. Here we have head vs. heart, conflict vs. communion. The figures on the Swords cards are lone.

Where is it that we tend to undermine ourselves in matters of the heart? What is it about how we feel about love and relating that drives us to feel that it is a scarce resource, that it is somehow limited, and that we need, in some way, to act on our own behalf before someone does the dirty on us? Or, perhaps, we withhold a part of ourselves, or the truth (Swords being the spoken word), for fear of being judged and abandoned.

The thing is, however, it is beliefs like this that are the ones that leave us isolated. We are the perpetrators of our isolation. Thoughts that damage are turned in on ourselves, and we are the ones who become sole agents in our experience, distancing ourselves from the involvement of others that could spell participation and community: the tents in the background of the Seven of Swords seem like the tents of a tournament, where people come together in friendly competition, celebrating their losses and achievements, cheering the winners and consoling the runners-up. No-one is left out — apart from the figure in the fez who seems to have decided that it is best to operate outside the rules of the game, taking for himself what could be shared with others.

Read more