The Weekend Tarot Reading — Sunday, October 2, 2011

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

Now is the time to release what you have been working towards. Whether it comes back to you is not something you can fully control; but there is the potential for stepping up to a level of authority that you have heretofore been unfamiliar with. That authority understands that everything is subject to a process of checks and balances to ensure its integrity. There is every indication that you have prepared as much as you can and that you are silently but powerfully supported.

In the Three of Wands, a man stands with his back to us, looking out at the bay in front of him. Upright in his hand is one wand, while two wands stand behind him at each side.

I see these in a similar way to the two cups that remain with the bowed figure in the Five of Cups: they are like guardian angels. Silent, yet supportive, they are giving of their energy, and yet non-invasive. In the bay that the figure surveys, three ships are setting sail on fiery seas. This is the only time that I can think of that the sea mirrors the quality of the Wands suit. It is a mix of red and yellow — the same colours as the three wands themselves. It is ablaze, a sea of creativity, a sea of potential for that creative aspect that Wands embody to come through.

But there is a an inherent risk involved. The merchant has to let go of his ships — what he has worked so hard to craft — in order to release them (and himself) to the potential of the opportunity they present. If you notice, each vessel seems to have a visual association with a wand. They are linked. The merchant is making a dear sacrifice.

That is the nature of what Wands energy asks of us. To surrender and to trust. We cannot fully control it; there is a part of it that demands its freedom so that we are able to make space for something else to come through — whatever that may be. If we seek to confine it, we are seeking to possess something that is not fully ours. The merchant has one hand on a wand, yes; but the other two are standing independently of him. All four seem to be in a synergistic relationship, but one where neither merchant nor wands rely fully on the other for support.

And so the ships sail. Will they come back? Will they succumb to the unpredictability of the high seas and waste on the rocks? Will they find better trade elsewhere? What I do see is that the merchant is well dressed. His clothes are not flashy, and have a certain heft to them: he is solid. Around his head is a circlet of gold — a crown in the making. And the black and gold checked panel on his cloak is the same pattern on the collar of the Queen of Wands: another reference to the seed of maturity — or self-actualization — that he holds within him.

While the ships are on the open water, each of the wands are planted in the ground — and it is this grounding that I feel is further expressed in the King of Pentacles.

The King of Pentacles holds in him the full expression of the Pentacles suit. He knows the workings of the physical world, and understands that true riches are only possible when the material and natural worlds are balanced. Look how the grapes on his robes seem to spill over into leaf and fruit around him. His castle lies to one side of him, more vines lie to the other, and a range of mountains that would dwarf everything stretch blue-grey in the background. Balance again. Moreover, the King may be adorned in flora, but he is also, at heart, a warrior: a single, steel-clad foot emerges from the folds in his gown and is placed, quite deliberately, upon the stone head of a bull. He has authority over his realm — yet there is no sword in sight. Rather, he rules with the authority conferred on him by the pentacle that he supports on his left knee. There is a sense of conscious responsibility: the King knows that he can wield his authority in powerful ways, but his gaze remains on the pentacle. He doesn’t clasp it, but merely steadies it in place. Like the merchant in the Three of Wands, he knows how fine the line is between claiming something as his own, and working in co-operation with it.

The red of the merchant’s cloak in the Three of Wands becomes the red of the King’s cowl. Red is the colour of power, and kingly integrity, blood — and it flows with life through all three cards, feeding and informing them. The King of Pentacles may be in a position of greater power than the figure in the Three of Wands — he might be more wealthy — but he has not forgotten his duty to what he has been given. He knows what it is to hold to something firmly, but lightly.

Finally, the progression is complete as the red of the King’s cowl again becomes a cloak in the final card, Justice. Justice also shares something else with the other two cards: a yellow background. This feels like the presence of the warm light of the Sun — consciousness, illumination. In the other two cards, it is a dominant feature in the background. Here, the yellow is confined to the outer edges, while Justice sits framed by two stone pillars and a draped backdrop. There is no vegetation in sight. In its right hand, the figure holds a sword — symbol of the power of reason — and in its left a pair of scales — where matters are weighed and where decisions are made. There is enough light from the Sun to illuminate. There is also enough shade to demonstrate that nuance also has its place. Justice looks at us directly. There is nowhere to hide — all that we are is brought to measure. Nothing is ignored, but that also means that nothing is rejected. The figure’s body language expresses openness, inclusiveness. Yes, Justice is about weighing things up. But what if this is a weighing up where no-one is found wanting? In a place of true equality, there are no losers or winners.

I look back at the King of Pentacles, and then to Justice. Now that I do this, I see a certain mirroring to the two figures: the extended left foot of the King, the extended right foot of Justice; both custodians of the tools of their trade; the three-pointed crowns. They feel like two wise leaders, working side-by-side, each with a different strength and perspective. No decision has been made yet, but, like the merchant, we have set our ships sail — we have directed our energy — with due preparation, with support both seen and unseen, and with faith and the understanding that we cannot control what happens past this point. The merchant’s back is turned. Justice looks at us directly. There is no need to flinch. If she can hold her gaze, then so can we.