Weekly Forecast: October 1-7
Sometimes we look at situations far too seriously. It's an easy thing to do. Challenges deserve attention and scrutiny, don't they? Isn't it our job to bravely face them, head on and ready to go?
One of the things I love most about the suit of swords is their wise depiction of the challenging world of our thoughts. Like a sword, we can wield them with power and conviction, cutting paths for action and giving ourselves the clarity of direction. Or, you know, we could wave them around, cutting other people, and, more commonly, ourselves.
Tricky business, indeed. Only one of the swords cards addresses trickery itself, and that's our first card for the week: the Seven of Swords. In the Rider-Waite-Smith deck it's illustrated with a young fellow sneaking away from a colorful array of tents with five swords in his arms. Two stand upright by his feet. There's a formation of shadows in the distance behind him with what appears to be the silhouette of a raised spear. Clearly, this character has pulled off some naughtiness and deception.
Usually this card brings with it standard meanings of deceit, theft, and subterfuge. Yet here we see another side to this card. The soft blues are matched to our remaining two cards, the harmonious Ten and Ace of Cups. How could this tricky card be aligned with the warmth and receptivity shown here?
While it's no good stealing swords from your neighbor's tents, we're also clearly not living in Medieval times anymore. The Seven of Swords illustrates a mental approach and the tent the home of our guarded and cherished ideas. Sometimes we need a jaunty thief to sneak in and extract the true treasures. Like The Fool and his knapsack, this is a moment where we can only carry so much with us. What's more, it's also a moment where thinking and acting playfully is actually allowing us to think bigger and bolder and, most wonderfully, quickly discard some stale ways of thinking.
In this case, seriousness isn't cutting the mustard. We've become a bit stagnant and stuck, placing too many constraints around us. The Ten of Cups shows us that what we need is to embrace the trickster nature of the Seven of Swords. Direct conflict, explaining, and arguing aren't even necessary. We can simply sneak into our own set of guarded beliefs and extract what makes us feel light, whole, and full of possibility. Anything less will only hold us back on our journey.
So the questions to ask now are: Does this idea invigorate me? What ideas are holding me captive? And, crucially, How can I have more fun?
In order to embrace the flowing, emotive, and joyful energy of the cups we need to lighten up a bit. Doing so is proving to be the last piece of the puzzle on a much longer emotional journey. The Ten of Cups depicts a beautiful arrival. We're coming to a place of transcendent intimacy were we're being seen clearly for who we are by like-minded souls. We may have built up some resistance to this way of being (those extra swords in the tent); instead of wrestling with them directly, we can do a graceful side-step.
We might be surprised to see how quickly we arrive at this feeling of oneness and, even more delightfully, it's bringing us to the Ace of Cups - a new wellspring of inspiration, connection, and good fortune.