Welcome to another installment of the Tarot Jam Blog Hop! You may navigate to other bloggers’ posts using the handy dandy links below.
I think am experiencing what you astrology buffs would call my Saturn return. But my Saturn return is not the life-shattering existential crisis in the face of adulthood that most people describe. I’ve had plenty of those throughout my 20s. I am a poet, after all.
No, this is more of a “settling in” to my 30s as if they were a blanket and I’ve just returned from trekking through a blizzard. The blanket is old and out of style and I’ve kept it in a cedar chest for a very long time thinking I’d never ever use it. Except now I’ve found that it’s somehow perfect. It keeps me warm and cozy, maybe even more so than my other blankets, and it even kind of matches the house decor. And I am genuinely surprised.
This past year has been a whirlwind of opportunity, responsibility, and major shifts (or perhaps sharpening) of my core values. So, it makes total sense that the tarot card guiding my year (numerologically speaking) is the Chariot.
I associate the number 7 with surprise, trickery, and fickle fortune. Just look at the minor arcana to see why: The 7 of Swords is often called “the thief;” the 7 of Cups chases illusions and has trouble making decisions; the 7 of Wands struggles to maintain power; and the 7 of Coins must rely on the whims of nature to yield a hearty garden crop.
In tarot, we’re taught that the number 7 signifies a state of imbalance. The Chariot is different from most of those 7’s struggling in the minor arcana because he embraces the lack of control. He does not hold the reins of the chariot, yet he is calm and confident. The celestial symbols that adorn him imply that he has faith and looks toward the forces of the universe (as well as those minxy sphinxes) to get him where he needs to go.
Advice from the Chariot
I know that I’ve been speaking in metaphors and vaguaries up until now. This tends to happen when dealing with the major arcana. But what practical steps have I taken to deal with the turbulence of a Chariot year?
1. Keep a personal organizer.
Although the charioteer does not hold the reins, he takes control where he can. He advises to set long term goals and keep my priorities straight.
So, I’ve created a fairly elaborate daily/weekly/monthly planner (side note: Did you know there is an enormous Filofax junkie community out there? Beware that rabbit hole). Now if I’m in a funk, I can refer to my planner and see that I haven’t read a poem or rifled through my cards in a while. Or maybe I’ve forgotten to floss. Then I know how to remedy what ails me.
2. Invest in quality tools.
Our charioteer is worthless without his chariot and steeds, as they provide both vehicle and protection. The material world is not inconsequential.
I want to invest in quality goods so that they last me a long, long time: Car, furniture, kitchen appliances, clothes, etc etc etc. I’m tired of buying cheap shoes every year and wearing them until my feet hurt. I’m tired of the waste. Of course, changing my bad habits means that I have to do more research, shop more carefully, and learn new skills to maintain my belongings. It is tedious and expensive at the start, but it eventually pays off. (Better to fix the chariot’s wheel than buy a whole new chariot, right?)
3. Value community.
Though the charioteer faces away from the city, it could be argued that he is defending it, right?
Many of my friends are getting married and having babies right now. It’s SO exciting, but I can’t tell you how many pessimistic articles I’ve read about this phase of life as isolating — your single/child-free friends no longer want to hang out with you! And in turn, you don’t have time for them!
Yes, I know that this is the phase of life where you start to realize which relationships you’ve built are actually sustainable (and you start to cut away those that are not — hence Saturn’s sickle), and I know it’s particularly difficult when you are transient and/or your friends are scattered across the country. As I’m an introvert, I find it a challenge to keep up with everyone, but I am trying! Host a dinner, attend a tea party, join a book club, write a letter… whatever I can do so that none of us feel like we are eating dust.
OK I’m done playing with chariot metaphors now.
Thanks for stopping by, readers!