I wind up my morning routine with a little Tarot on most days. I don’t do anything fancy just throw down some cards to point me at my day. Lately, I have been seeing a network of cards show up again and again, cards that aren’t exactly pleasant, but don’t feel like they are quite directed at me. The Ten of Swords is one of them.
Today, I sat back from the reading and popped open the internet, chewing the Ten over while I let my fingers wander. The first place I go to? Well, something says to pull up Runesoup. There, fresh from Gordon, is my Ten’s interpretation. Those cards are about the situation that my actions have to keep in mind.
So, here, let me share a little advice from my personal reading. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t.
The Ten isn’t personal because the Ten of Swords is where we are living. That sounds scary at first, what with all the association of ruin and insanity that comes with the Ten. Heck, it is scary. But there is a strategy for dealing with this sort of thing, whether it is personal or collective.
The first part of that strategy is to stay calm. I have no doubt that the proliferation of the “Stay calm and…” meme is a semiconscious awareness of this strategy’s importance. The “and [fill in the blank]” part, though? I don’t think it is generally a good idea to go filling that in under the Ten of Sword’s influence. Stay calm, but don’t start telling yourself what you have to do after that.
In my experience, the Ten of Swords is sound and fury signifying too much, like a storm or a fire, that throws up as much noise as it puts out signal. It is hard to see which way is in and which way is out, and who is who. Jumping to identify the signal, to interpret its meaning, puts you at risk of embracing the noisome billowing of dust rather than the voice in the fire, of getting a punch in the face rather than a helpful hand.
Stay calm and develop as keen and roving an eye as you can. Entertain strange notions in your courtyard, but don’t make them comfortable. Keep the guards close to hand in case you have to eject them in a hurry. Don’t go crazy because the world is crazy enough for you.
Don’t rush unless you have to. And check yourself, you will want to rush, want to tell yourself that you need to, before you actually do.
For those called to help, secure your own airmask before helping others.
Finally, keep in mind that other folks are antsy, too, and that it is almost inevitable that someone (maybe you, maybe someone else) will act hastily, anxiously, and that the more people who can hold the line and not rush after the fearful act, the less likely the line will be broken, the less likely that misfire will turn into a battle you don’t need to fight.
Some shots fired, some warnings yelled, will refer to shadows and noise, not genuine danger. Don’t get attached to your fear.
This storm doesn’t have a calm, except the one we are able to give it.
And my favorite bit of a wisdom from a flood warning announcement: “Do not drown.”
Also, strangely alongside this specific Ten of Swords? The advice seems to be: “Be of Good Cheer.” The dust obscures the good and the bad. It isn’t all bad, though it will likely be rough.
(Aside, I actually do use ‘you’ when interpreting tarot readings for myself, even silently. It helps establish the sort of distance that allows me to read the cards rather than my expectations.)