The
Eight of Swords describes a moment we all recognize (and might be
living again real soon). It's not especially pleasant, but it's not as
terrible as it appears on the surface. In fact, that's one of the themes
of this card—appearances can be deceiving—which is why the
key to understanding it isn't the eight swords surrounding our heroine,
it's the scrap of cloth tied around her eyes.
On
the surface, it resembles a scene from one of those damsel-in-peril
mysteries so popular on the Lifetime network. Bound and blindfolded and
barricaded by swords, a woman stands alone on a rock. The sky is a dull
gunmetal gray, and she seems lost and forlorn and unsure how to get
herself out of the predicament she surely didn't put herself into.
But
look again. Our lady bears some responsibility for staying in her
situation. She's not seeing things clearly (literally and figuratively).
After all, her feet are unbound. The swords do not surround her. Even
the ties around her body seem loose. She seems paralyzed by her own
fear, which is keeping her in place more effectively than any bindings.
Fear
is generated by the mind, and it's meant to be helpful. It wants you to
run away, avoid, save yourself. But in this particular situation, it's
not doing our lady any good. And in your particular situation—and you
probably know what that is—it's doing you no favors either.
This
week, consider what fear large or small might be keeping you trapped.
What is it about the situation that you aren't seeing? Is there a way to
make some small change that might allow you to rip off whatever
blinders have settled in place?
Shake
off the cords. They weren't really holding you back anyway. Peel up the
edge of the blindfold. Take a gander at whatever it is you've been
missing.
As one of the few cards in the Rider-Waite-Smith tarot that doesn't have a human figure in it, the Eight of Wands is...well, look at it. It's wands all the way down. Wands wands wands wands wands wands wands wands.
So it behooves us to remember what Wands are all about. They are the suit of passion and energy, enthusiasm and soul. Like the living wood that they are constructed of, wands are vital and dynamic and running with sap, and like the element of fire they represent, they are swift, total, and direct.
You can practically feel all these various components coming together in the Eight of Wands, practically hear the "whoosh!" as they fly. This is a card of the present tense, action and motion and now-now-now. But to truly understand what this card is trying to tell us, we must ponder the before and after.
Some previous action set these wands flying, and they will soon reach their eventual destination. Cause and effect Exhibit A.
Waite's own words illustrate these ideas of swiftness and delivery: "This card represents motion through the immovable—a flight of wands through an open country—but they draw to the term of their course. That which they signify is at hand; it may be even on the threshold."
This week, ponder the things reaching their natural culmination, especially those things fueled by your blood and sweat and tears. The things you have aligned your will with, put your energy into, and blessed with your attention. Watch for signs that a conclusion is coming. Listen. You can hear it it whistling your way.
*This reading is dedicated to all my NaNoWriMo buddies finishing up their November novels—keep those words coming! You can do it!
Eventually, all creative work comes down to the moment where you either do it, or you don't. So it is with zero surprise whatsoever that I see the Eight of Pentacles coming up this week.
This is the first time this card has appeared as a part of the Writerly Tarot in an official sort of way, but it comes up for me regularly, especially when I am in need of a clear and unequivocal reminder that I need to put myself in front of the page and stay there until the words are on it.
The Eight of Pentacles is about putting in work, hard work. It is a card of commitment. It is no-nonsense and spare and detail-oriented. It is the work of final editing, the slog of the home stretch in a difficult race. The figure on the card is absorbed in his task -- there is only the chisel and the hammer and the disc before him. And the task is all there is. He and his work are one.
I am sometimes a lazy writer, preferring the day-dreamy freedom of the Seven of Cups or the exuberant optimism of The Sun to such a clear simple mandate. In those feel-good cards, it is easier to understand how our imagination connects us to the better angels of human nature. We soar in that energy, gliding effortlessly in clear blue skies. It is irresistible.
But there is joy in climbing too, in beating your wings hard, in pushing your muscles to make each downstroke count. The joy of exertion, of striving, of being in the moment so completely that you lose all sense of time. Psychologists call this state "flow," and it is literally brain-altering. And when you give yourself over to the creative process of Making Stuff Happen, when you strive for the painstaking perfection of the Eight of Pentacles, it will often reward you with such a state.
Sometimes. Not always. But when it does...it is magic of the truest kind. And like all true magic, it begins with choice.
This week, let the Eight of Pentacles be your taskmaster. Find beauty in the nuts and bolts. Seek joy in the striving. This is not an easy card, but it is a richly rewarding one.
And now...back to work.