The Writerly Tarot: The Knight of Swords

We all know a Knight.

They are the extroverts, the enthusiasts, the seekers. They charge and brandish and yell "Tally ho!" They like speed and adventure, and while they can be somewhat reckless, they are brimming with prowess and a heady, mercurial energy, like alternating current. If you can get them to concentrate, that is. And stop tilting at innocent windmills.

Knights are court cards, which have a reputation as being tricky to figure out. I suspect their openness to various interpretations is the reason. There are sixteen court cards in a traditional tarot deck—four in each of the four suits: a King and Queen and Knight and Page—and they can personify the querent, a person in the querent's life, or the energy of the suit as expressed by their role.

In our case, the Knight of Swords has come dashing into the fray (and if there wasn't a fray before he arrived, there is guaranteed to be one after). Does he represent you, riding headlong into a battle of wits that is occupying every iota of your attention? Or is he coming at you, sword aloft, and if so, is he seeking to entangle you in his adventure or whack you down as the enemy? (this is an important question, really important). Or perhaps you are dealing not with a person but with manifestation of some particularly feisty energy, in which case, be prepared for wild times of the intellectual sort.

Only you know the nature of this dashing Knight. All I can do is tell you to be on the listen for hoofbeats this week. Get ready to ride, or get ready to run. You'll be doing one or the other for sure.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Knight of Pentacles

In the Steampunk Tarot, Barbara Moore introduces the Knights by reminding us of their chaotic and unpredictable nature.  "It's not easy to wrangle a knight," she writes. They are quest figures, after all, always on the search for their own particular Holy Grail, always with eyes on the horizon.

At first blush, the Knight of Pentacles seems to defy that description. Unlike the other Knights in the Rider-Waite-Smith deck, his steed has all four feet on the ground. Our gallant hero doesn't brandish his symbol, or wave it about, or hoist it high. He contemplates it. The land around him is neatly tilled, and the sky is the golden-yellow of the sunset. There is a sense of coming home in this card, the journey completed.

But don't let all that steady calmness fool you. This Knight is just as knightly as his companions, just as focused on his quest. And therein lies the message he brings.

Pentacles are the suit of material resources, and as such, they are concerned with home and hearth, vocation and finances. Creative endeavors, especially those that are pursued as careers, can't always be about the ecstasy and the flow. Sometimes we have to get down to earth -- do the taxes, revise the scene, organize the calendar. The un-fun but utterly necessary work part of creative work.

When I see this Knight, I know it's time to buckle down. Some quests are quiet, more tortoise than hare. But when one is flying down the road at the speed of light, one misses the scenery. The softly rolling hill. The breeze scented with pine. The weight of the gold in one's hand, the way it catches the light. The quivering warm muscles of the mount beneath you, this faithful beast who has brought you this far and who will surely bring you home.

This week, find the beauty and pleasure in the progress, the one foot after another of your own creative journey. Word by word, chapter by chapter.  Slow and steady and soul-satisfying. Don't look behind to what you have or have not achieved; don't look ahead to accolades and accomplishments. As Anne Lamott reminds us, "Bird by bird." This is how you finally make it home/find the grail/finish the quest. One step at a time.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Knight of Wands

It's been very Knightly around here recently. This is not a surprising turn of events, considering that we are just now moving from one calendar year to another (a man-made happening, true enough, but one fraught with letting go and cleaning slates and galloping forward, quintessential Knight activities). It's also the first Mercury retrograde of 2016, and nobody in the tarot does mercurial like a Knight.

So welcome Knight of Wands! We've been expecting you!

Now normally, I'd be telling you all about this Knight's proclivity for rushing into frays, charging forward, lance upraised. This is especially true of the Knight of Wands, whose lance is actually a tool of creation, not destruction. See those little green leaves, those tender twiggy shoots? His lance is a live thing, the archetypal staff of fertility and creativity. It channels the creative impulse into direct energy. It is a powerful tool.

But this Knight comes to us during a time of retrograde — a time of return and re-visioning and remembering — even as the calendar impels us forward. It's a contradictory impulse, looking back, especially for Knights, who are all about the "tally ho." But I think that's what we creative sorts are being asked to do as 2016 rolls out the welcome mat.

Go back a little to 2015. I'm sure there are many things you're releasing — the decluttering of life is practically a religion now — but the Universe is asking you and all the knightly parts of you to chill for a second. Take stock of the treasure chest that is the past, especially the recent past. It's a rich tapestry, your past, the warp and woof that makes you who you are. Find something here that matters to you, and tuck it next to your heart. And then ride forward with this memory, this blessing, as a talisman.

Like the knights who carried their Lady's Favour into battle, you now have a reminder that your work is a sacred, matter-full thing. That you are on a mission of the highest valor and importance. And that somebody up there loves you.

This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Knight of Cups

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

from "Ode on a Grecian Urn" by John Keats

Here is your message for the week, delivered by that most ardent and devoted of suitors — the Knight of Cups. All the knights of the tarot are quest figures, searching ever searching, their eyes straight ahead, their vision steady and fixed on a singular goal.

Our chivalrous Knight of Cups is perhaps the most emblematic of his company, for the golden chalice he holds links him with the Holy Grail of Arthurian myth. You might think him the poster boy for the quest achieved. After all, there's the cup, tight in his hand. Problem solved. Treasure found. Next adventure, please!

Hold your horses. The quest isn't for the cup itself — it's for what the cup contains. And that, oh creative one, is still a mystery.

You have clues that this is the case. Notice his winged helmet, and the slightly less obvious winged spurs. Our knight is cousin to Hermes and Mercury, two of the more tricksterish gods to ever tamper with mortal affairs. They are also messengers, heralds of news and tidings and sudden developments of a surprising nature. And since Cups are the suit of emotion and imagination — the somewhat feverish but always fertile ground from which creativity is born — you can bet this knight will deliver something . . . interesting.

He is a dreamer, the prince of that tribe. He is gentle and compassionate. He is often haunted, sometimes melancholy, but always deep. And he's got something for you in his chalice, something for you and you alone, a message and a gift and a quest all rolled into one. This is the season of advent, after all. The season of approach.

Listen. You can almost hear the distant hoofbeats, coming closer.

This Week's Writerly Tarot -- The Knight of Swords

If this Knight had a slogan, it would be He Who Runs With Scissors.

Just look at him, hellbent for leather, sword high, galloping straight to glory.  Or something. Knights are quest figures, and as such, they don't do standing around very well. Their eyes are always on the horizon, and since this Knight is of the Sword variety (the suit of mental energy) the prize he's after is of an intellectual nature. Maybe evanescent, maybe even intangible, maybe spun of air and wind, but a prize to be obtained nonetheless.

And he's put some planning into it, yes, he has. Swords love strategy and vision, logic and reason. But for the Knight of Swords, this most masculine energy of a most masculine suit, nothing is a pure and clean as the rush forward, the wind against his skin (notice he has his visor up, because sensing this, seeing this, is more important than whatever protection he'd get from such armor.) All the planning, all the foresight . . . it all serves this moment.

The horse, however, begs to differ.

I've always thought his gallant steed has a slightly different perspective on this whole rushing-into-battle thing. He's looking not ahead or at his Knight -- he's looking sideways at us -- and I detect a hint of "oh sheesh, nope, don't wanna go there" in his horsey eye, reluctance in his gritted teeth. But go he will -- when this Knight has the reins, the only direction is forward and the only speed is fast. How well he'll fare once the battle starts remains to be seen. Our brave horse might be returning riderless.

So whatever writerly adventure you undertake this week, whether it's finally sending that manuscript off or reaching out to that perfect agent, do it both big and well. Remember -- martial planning is a beautiful thing, but combat looks very different on the field than it does in the officer's tent. Sure, the charge forward is exciting. Just be certain that you have your sharpest sword, the one you polished the night before, and not the gorgeous but flimsy one. Be sure your sensible support staff is with the program. And just in case there's an unpleasant surprise around the corner, you might want to lower your visor. Just saying.

Tally ho, my friend.