the wooden tarot

Introduction to the Wooden Tarot Series

The Wooden Tarot is a 79-card self-published tarot deck by Atlanta-based artist A. L. Swartz in 2014(?). The deck was conceived in the Rider-Waite-Smith tradition, but Swartz’s unique style and artistic preoccupations make this deck a big departure from mainstream visual tarot traditions. The Wooden Tarot features no human beings, with the exception of a human skull on the Devil card and the four Gods, or aces, with human-bodies but floating eyeballs for heads. The imagery of the deck is instead nature-based, including everything from bones to mushrooms to crystals, and an eclectic mix of animals, from the more familiar White-Tailed Deer to the fairly exotic Blue Angel Nudibranch.

This is a bizarre world, however, one in which animals may have sunflowers or mushrooms for heads, or crystals may grow directly out of their bodies. Third-eyes abound, showing us that the Wooden Tarot hovers somewhere between the natural realm and the spirit realm.

One of the most striking features of the Wooden Tarot, however, is that it does not include any sort of booklet of card meanings. At the time I purchased the deck, Swartz stated on his Etsy page that any book of Rider-Waite-Smith meanings could be used alongside the deck. Many people, however, have found the deck’s visual simplicity, its wide range of plants and animals, and its severe departure from Rider-Waite-Smith imagery to be intimidating or confusing.

When I first got back into tarot in early 2015 and began looking at decks to buy, I was for several months trying to decide between the Wild Unknown and the Wooden Tarot. I chose the Wild Unknown in the end, which was probably wise, given that the learning curve for the Wooden Tarot is a bit steeper than that of the Wild Unknown, which I struggled with at the time.

I purchased the Wooden Tarot after I felt more comfortable with the Rider-Waite-Smith system, and was almost immediately drawn to the challenge of writing a blog post description for each card. To be clear, I do not consider this to be a definitive or “correct” interpretation of the deck in any way. Other people have looked at the same card as me and taken away vastly different interpretations. My interpretations are as much a reflection of myself and my place in my tarot journey as they are a reflection of the cards.

I took on this project because I wanted to learn more about the Wooden Tarot. Over time, I have come to see that, while this series has taught me a lot about this particular deck, it has also taught me a lot about the tarot in general, made me reassess my interpretations of the RWS system, and also try to understand how the Thoth relates to that system. I have also begun to realize that other people find this series helpful, and than a good percentage of my blog hits come from people trying to find an interpretation of a specific Wooden Tarot card. Thus, while this series is for my own knowledge I am also gratified if I can help others.

It’s rumored that Swartz is coming out with his own book of card meanings, given the feedback he has received that people have difficulty using the deck without one. I will finish this series for my own learning, and because while I’m sure that my interpretations will overlap with Swartz’s to a certain extent, they will also reflect a unique perspective on the deck. I do plan, however, to read Swartz’s meanings once I have finished the series.

For those interested in more about this deck, there is a Wooden Tarot Study Group on Facebook, which is quite active and in which Swartz himself sometimes participates. Swartz also has a playing-card-sized oracle deck, the Earthbound Oracle, which shares many of the same visual themes with the Wooden Tarot and works with it beautifully.

If you are ready to dive in, begin here.

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Information for those interested in purchasing the deck:

The Wooden Tarot is more or less a standard sized tarot deck. The backs feature a triple-moon design, with a large eyeball taking the place of the full moon and are reversible. (Since the design for the backs was painted on wood, it’s not 100% reversible, given the natural variability of wood grain. However, I am very picky about this sort of thing and I use reversals with this deck quite easily.)

The card stock of the Wooden Tarot is very high quality. It is flexible but strong and has a buttery finish that surpasses any tarot deck or playing cards I have handled. The cards stand up to repeated riffling and have not chipped or frayed after several months’-worth of use. I imagine that this deck will withstand years of tarot readings. The deck comes in a tuck box, which I personally do not use to store it, as tuck boxes generally cannot stand up to frequent use. I recommend making or buying a bag for this deck.

At this moment, the deck is priced at US$35 plus shipping and can be found on skullgarden.com or Swartz’s Etsy shop.

The Wooden Tarot: Court of Stones

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

The Court of Stones features animals that are by and large more familiar than the other courts–at least for North Americans (the Page of Stones as the Dik-dik is the exception.) All members of the court are ungulates and herbivores, which makes sense, given the prevalence of horns and antlers throughout the pip cards. It’s almost as if we’ve been following a trail of antlers back to their source, but instead of animals with real horns and antlers, we instead find…animals with stones for horns! (The King is a significant exception.) The other visual theme that unites the members of this court is the smoke that rises from behind them as if they were engulfed in flames, emphasizing the element of fire in the suit.

Page of Stones

The neck and head of a Dik-dik, with stones growing out of its head instead of horns. Two large stones are crossed in front of it.

It took me a lot of internet searching to figure out that this guy is a Dik-dik. I knew there was some tiny cute deer creature, but I couldn’t remember its name without the help of Google. And indeed, the Dik-dik must be one of the cutest creatures in existence. I know there’s some stiff competition for that title, but do an image search for them and you’ll see what I mean.

Like the rest of the Pages, the Page of Stones is diminutive when compared to the other animals of the court–Dik-diks are a little over a foot tall at the shoulder. Male Dik-diks do have horns, but they are short and it does not seem that they use them for combat. And given the species’ small size, I imagine that it does not fight many of its predators, either. Dik-diks’ best defense is their ability to sense when a predator is near, alert other members of their group, and to flee.

These small stones grow from the Page’s head like inspiration. We can think of the Page as representing nascent creative ideas or desires, having ideas but for the moment lacking the ability to focus them into action or make them manifest. Yet the Page represents an important place in the creative or spiritual journey–with the huge eyes and ears of the Dik-dik, they are able to absorb inspirations and influences.

The stones crossed (locked, really) in front of the Page, however suggest a more defensive posture. The Page may have lots of ideas, but they are not ready to open up and express themselves. Like the Dik-dik, they protect their ideas by hiding them or only showing them to trusted friends, rather than debate things in the open.

Keys: creative or spiritual apprenticeship; artistic imitation; the beginning stages of a creative idea; trying out new ideas or techniques without having mastered them

Reversed: abandoning a project or spiritual path early in the process because of challenges that seem overwhelming; being unsure of oneself; jumping into something too fast without a proper foundation or proper enthusiasm; being so hostile to criticism or feedback that progress is impossible

Knight of Stones

A horse with stones growing out of its forehead, transforming it into a unicorn. A small, gemlike flame floats between two stones that point outward.

If you look at this Knight, you’ll see that they are not a true unicorn. Two very small stones poke out from the base of the larger one. It’s almost as if the small stones on the head of the Page were then appropriated by the Knight.

The Knight of Stones is a magical creature. They are able to take the initial energy and enthusiasm of the Page and focus it into the creation of something. The Knight always has a clear purpose, and the stone on their head always points the way forward. Given the mythical quality of the unicorn, however, the Knight may also be hard to pin down or contact. The Knight of Stones may have more of a “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” approach to creative or spiritual endeavors (or, well, sex for that matter), doing things in short, focused bursts and then moving on to something else. The outward orientation of the stones in front of the Knight suggests that with them, energy is open and expansive, always growing and moving outward. I think of the Knight of Stones as one of those people who (magically, it seems to me) never gets tired.

Keys: very focused creative or spiritual energy; a burst of inspiration that leads directly into action; innate talent or enthusiasm; infectious energy; championing a cause

Reversed: scattered energy; the inability to commit to a spiritual path or see a creative project through from start to finish; a great amount of talent mixed with lack of practical skill

Queen of Stones

A female White-Tailed Deer with a cluster of stones growing from her neck and shoulders. The moon rises behind her.

There is a steadiness and dignity to this image. The Queen is direct–they look us in the eye without flinching. However, unlike much of the suit of Stones would suggest, they are not combative because they don’t need to be. The fruits of the Queen’s creative or spiritual endeavors are on display for everyone to see. Not because the Queen wears them like jewelry or medals, but because they emanate naturally.

It is in the Queen that we see long-lasting achievement. The earthy studiousness of the Page makes them unprepared to make things happen, while the airy fire of the Knight is brilliant but unfocused. Water and fire balance each other here, and we can see that balance in the Queen’s profusion of jewels and their calm expression. Like the Queen of Plumes, I imagine this Queen as a mentor–someone who is brilliant and accomplished, but has also decided to help others instead of just focusing on their own work.

Keys: creative maturity; an artistic or spiritual figure who mentors others; not letting creative or spiritual pursuits diminish quality relationships with friends and family; nurturing inner fire

Reversed: relationships and creative/spiritual pursuits somehow out of balance: a family situation that stifles one’s inner fire, or neglecting relationships in order to pursue one’s own path; arrogance in one’s accomplishments; unwillingness to help others

King of Stones

A leaping ram, bursting from a cluster of stones, and with stones growing out of his horns. The sun rises behind him.

The King is the only member of this court who we see from the neck down, as if a conventional portrait were simply not possible because the King can’t sit still. The ram bursts through/from the stones, suggesting someone who is both supported by their creative/spiritual path and able to transcend its limitations. The King is also the only member of the court to have both real horns and stones growing from them, suggesting their ability to break through obstacles.

I have always thought of the King of Wands/Stones as the get shit done card. The King will not fail, will not take no for an answer, will not give up. In a situation, they may be the part of you that refuses to be broken in the face of obstacles, or they may be the person who can pull some strings (or act as a battering “ram”) in order to get things done. The King is the fire of fire, pure energy and power. This part of you may get you very far, but may also lead to burnout in the long run.

Keys: unbreakable will; being able to carry a project through to the end; the “fire in the belly”; never giving up.

Reversed: a Captain Ahab-like tendency–obsession with accomplishing a goal no matter the cost; focused on ends over means; burnout

The Wooden Tarot: Introduction to the Suit of Stones

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

Fire/Wands/Stones

Since stones evoke images of earth, and since other nature-based decks like the Wildwood Tarot have used stones to represent the suit of Disks/Pentacles, it may be a little confusing that stones in the Wooden Tarot represent, not earth, but fire. I think Swartz included both Stones and Bones for rhyming reasons–blooms, stones, plumes, bones. (Hey, rhyme matters!) But once we see what a stone looks like in this deck, it becomes clear very quickly that they represent something more active than the element of earth. Stones in the Wooden Tarot generally have a reddish/magenta cast, and they are what we would usually call gems or crystals.

In addition to the stones themselves, the suit also has a second symbol: horns and antlers, much like the suit of Plumes frequently features both feathers and arrows. Horns and antlers (there is a difference between the two) to my mind more easily represent the element of fire: they are used for self-defense and to show sexual prowess. They are a visible manifestation of power.

Those who are in to crystals and/or horned gods will probably have a field day with this suit. I, unfortunately, can’t really speak to either of these things, but will do my best to interpret things as I see them in the cards.

And first up in this suit we have

The God of Stones

The God of Stones wears a red robe with a purple mantle. Flames can be seen emerging from their shoulders, and between their hands floats a large crystal, the Stone of the suit. The God’s lavender-grey eye is tilted slightly upwards. The God’s eye peers out from a triangle–the alchemical symbol for fire. On either side of this triangle, two antlers float.

Here is our horned god. While each of the gods has their own special type of power, the God of Stones strikes me as being the most active and powerful. Unlike the God of Plumes who cooly demonstrates detached intellectual mastery, the God of Stones strikes me as being more powerfully embodied, and may very well relate to sex in readings. Backed by the heat of the fire, armed with antlers, and effortlessly holding a heavy crystal, the God looks slightly, but powerfully upward.

The Ace of Wands generally denotes a rush of inspiration, and entirely new idea. Here, I see that energy embodied. Looking at the God of Stones, we get an influx of fiery creative energy. With the heat of the flames behind us, we can’t turn back.

Keys: a new idea for a creative project; an epiphany–not just an intellectual realization, but a new insight about our life’s purpose; pure sexual energy, intense attraction to another person

Reversed: creative mania–lots of energy, but nowhere to focus it; or an idea or project that is a nonstarter; the God of Stones reversed is generally a “no”; lack of sexual desire; sexual incompatibility

A God of Stones Reading

The Eye: What insight is waiting for me about the creative projects in my life?

The Stone: How do I grasp that creative energy?

The Wooden Tarot: Court of Plumes

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

Page of Plumes

The head and shoulders of a bird with an extra eye appear above two crossed arrows. From the arrows dangle three cocoons, and along the length of one of them crawls a caterpillar. The silhouettes of four birds can be seen in the distance.

So this is the only bird in the courts I haven’t been able to ID. It looks like some sort of Kingbird to me, but I can’t get it down to the species. It has the look of being modeled after a real bird, though. As with all of the other Pages, the Page of Plumes is diminutive in comparison to the rest of the courts. Kingbirds and flycatchers can range from the very tiny to the decent-sized (for passerine birds, that is) but nowhere the size of the other birds in this court.

I don’t think I have ever seen a Kingbird in person, but let’s check out the description of it over at All About Birds. First, these birds are aggressive toward competitors and predators. When they hunt, they are still most of the time, and then swift and decisive, snatching large insects out of the air, “which they take back to the perch, beat into submission, and swallow whole.” The crossed arrows can also symbolize conflict. Vigilance, decisiveness, and aggression are keys here.

But then what to do about the caterpillar and cocoons? I love the added layer of interpretation. While the Knight, Queen, and King of Plumes all feature butterflies, echoing the appearance of butterflies on the royal regalia of the King and Queen of Swords in the Smith-Waite deck, this Page isn’t quite as developed. While they embody the cool detachment and aggression of the Court of Swords, they also represent nascent ideas. The Page may be swift and bright, but they are also somewhat intellectually mature. They might enjoy playing with ideas and debating for the sake of debate, but they haven’t figured out how to make those ideas into a reality.

Keys: playing around with ideas; arguing for argument’s sake; precociousness; cleverness; a bright young person who may think they know better than everyone; working well with ideas in the abstract

Reversed: basically the same as upright, but with added conceit; someone who may get themselves into a dangerous situation because they think they know more than they actually do

Knight of Plumes

The head of a four-eyed Great Egret (Great White Heron, for those who live in Europe) emerges from behind an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly. The Egret holds an arrow in its bill.

I love seeing egrets. Their presence is imposing and unmistakable both while standing and in flight. When they are in breeding plumage, the males grow beautiful long, whispy feathers on their back (used as decorative feathers in ladies’ hats for many years, unfortunately) and the skin on their face turns lime green. These birds have the showiness and style that becomes a Knight.

Great Egrets stand motionless in the water, waiting for frogs or fish to swim by. Then they snatch them out of the water at lightning speed. In a sense, the Knight of Plumes hunts very much in the same way that the Page does: with stillness and patience, waiting for the right moment to strike. While the more traditional image of the Knight of Swords is of someone charging into battle, this card shows us someone whose aggression and action is calculated and contained.

As for the butterfly, like many butterflies, Eastern Tiger Swallowtails can engage in mimicry. The caterpillars imitate bird droppings, and the adults can mimic poisonous butterflies. This, then, suggests that we may need to be wary of the Knight of Plumes–they could apply their genius to making the world better or to selling snake oil.

Keys: intellectual prowess–especially on display (if the Page is an undergraduate, the Knight is in grad school); cooly considering all options, but acting quickly and irrevocably once a course of action has been settled upon.

Reversed: snobbery; intellectual deception; arrogance; choosing and acting on a plan, and clinging to it even when things go awry; someone refusing to admit they are wrong

Queen of Plumes

The head of a four-eyed Victoria Crowned Pigeon appears from behind clouds. The moon rises above it, and below is a large, blue butterfly. Two crescent moons, with points facing outward, flank a feather/arrow with the point facing down.

As for the crescent moons on the King and Queen cards, I’ve got to say: I’m stumped. I understand everything else about these cards, but why the moons??? I’ll just just have to move on without figuring it out.

The Victoria Crowned Pigeon is the largest pigeon in the world–it’s almost as big as a turkey. Having looked up this bird’s behavior and watched many YouTube videos of it (which you should do, because this bird is amazing) I’m tending to think that we should be relying more on the bird’s appearance than its life history to figure out its relevance to the card.

Both male and female pigeons have the crown, which is one of the most fantastic bird crests I have ever seen. Beautiful achievements of the mind are on full display here. While traditionally the Queen of Swords is about sadness (Waite says the card signifies “female troubles”…which are??) I see more intellectual confidence and grace here. This card reminds me of the many amazing female professors I have had in undergrad and graduate school–women who are beautiful, gracious, and intimidatingly smart, and who can ask the one question or point out the one flaw that makes your intellectual facade crumble if they want to. Most of the time, though, they won’t want to do that–they will want to support you in your intellectual endeavors as long as you are earnest. But they will not suffer mansplaining fools gladly.

Keys: effortless intellectual achievement; displaying the intellect with grace and graciousness; helping others think through problems or express themselves intellectually; protecting oneself or others from intellectual condescension or belittlement

Reversed: showing off intellectually in an egotistical manner; using the intellect in a way that doesn’t benefit the community; refusing to help others or give them the benefit of the doubt if they don’t know something; being harsh and judgmental about what other may not know

King of Plumes

The head of a four-eyed Bearded Vulture (Lammergeier) appears from behind clouds. The sun rises behind it, with a Monarch butterfly flying upward. Below the vulture, two crescent moons with their points facing inward flank a feather with an arrowhead, the point of which is facing up.

Let’s start with the Bearded Vulture, because its characteristics speak volumes about what the King of Plumes means in this deck. This is a fascinating bird, distributed across high altitudes in much of Europe, Asia, and Africa. These are huge birds, 3-4 feet tall with wingspans of 7-9 feet. What makes this bird particularly special is its habit of eating bones. Yes, bones. Most of its diet is made up of bone marrow. It waits until other animals have picked a carcass clean and then it retrieves the bones. But since some bones are too big to swallow, it flies up to great heights and drops them on rocks to break them. Its stomach acid has a pH of 1, meaning that it can digest bones easily.

So what does this mean for the King of Plumes? The King is detached–instead of getting into intellectual tussles, they like to watch things play out before making their move. They have the ability to crack tough problems, and use creativity to do so. They are a large, imposing presence. They’re not in the habit of throwing their weight around, but when they do, it will be noticed. There may be an acidic quality to the King of Plumes, which may allow them to digest hard truths and make good choices for the sake of others, or they may be harsh to be around.

The other aspects of the card point to its position as an active card within an active suit. The sun rises on the King of Plumes, as it does on all kings. The butterflies that appear in these court cards are a nod to the butterflies that appear on the crown of the Queen of Swords and the throne of the King of Swords in the Waite-Smith deck. Monarch, here, is of course a pun on King, but it’s also worth remembering that Monarch butterflies are beautiful but poisonous to many animals, again showing the potentially dangerous nature of the King.

Finally, the inwardly turned crescents and the feather/arrow that faces up shows the active energy of this suit–the drawing of energy in and up, rather than downward and outward, as in the Queen.

Keys: intellectual detachment; being an impartial judge; considering all your options; digesting a lot of information; solving problems creatively; powerful intellectual prowess

Reversed: aloofness; using the intellect to intimidate others; adhering to just the facts/the letter of the law, even if it is hurtful to others; using logic/intelligence to justify something that is acidic and poisonous, or using the intellect in an acidic or poisonous way

Checking in, January 2016

Well, I had some big blogging plans for this month, but this month did not want to go along with them. It’s been a very interesting time for me, and as I look at my planner, I see where I’ve written down the cards that I drew for January for my big Year Ahead Spread. When doing that spread, I thought it would be fun to check in every month to see if the cards I drew for the month actually described what happened. This is not because I think the cards predicted what will happen for each month, but because it’s fun, and because the cards can provide a focus around which I can consciously build my experience of the month.

In a way, this month’s cards were spot on: The Chariot, the Knight of Wands, the Three of Swords, and Life from the Earthbound Oracle.

Looking at the cards in the abstract, we see the beginning of something new and creative, although the experience is not without loss and grief. I originally pulled the tarot cards from my Wild Unknown deck, but I decided to use the Wooden Tarot to revisit them this month, just for a change in perspective.

The Chariot, despite its associations with movement and victory, is actually a water card. In some ways, the Chariot and the Knight of Wands are similar in spirit, but different in their approaches. The Chariot in the Wooden Tarot is probably my favorite of any that I’ve seen, and it was the card that really floored me back when I first saw the deck. The snail here picks up on the card’s watery properties beautifully, showing that it’s not about kicking ass and taking names, but rather, it’s about becoming victorious by honoring organic growth.

The Knight of Wands/Stones signals a lot of forward movement in career and creative projects. Much has happened career-wise this month. Although I haven’t started applying for jobs yet, I met several people and made several contacts, getting a better idea of what kinds of jobs I’d like to do and what kinds of organizations I’d like to work for. Much is also happening creatively. I began to learn how to knit on the 20th of last month, and I have made a lot of progress in that time. I secretly knitted two mini-scarves for outdoor statues at my temple and placed them on the statues under the cover of darkness. I’ve seen and heard people remarking about them, and pictures of the statues were even included in my temple’s weekly newsletter! I’m also working on my first legit project: a cowl. And I made a mini-deck bag for my Earthbound Oracle. Everything that I’ve made so far is lumpy and full of mistakes, but the more mistakes I make, the more quickly I learn.

I’m also taking a Sketchbook Skool course right now, which is really pushing me to confront my apathy and laziness when it comes to drawing. Like knitting, I am having to deal with mistakes and discouragement and persist in the face of them. Somehow, doing so with knitting is a lot easier than doing so with drawing! But still I go on.

But then we come to the Three of Swords. Which has, indeed, been appropriate for this month. Usually when I see this card, I go, “Who died?” And well, yes, someone did die. At around 4am on Monday the 11th, my husband crawled into bed. I’d been awake for about 10 minutes, having woken up from a nightmare. “Are you awake?” he asked. I said yes. He said, “David Bowie died.” I would have really liked to have believed that this was a nightmare as well. Generally, I don’t grieve over celebrities or people I don’t know, but Bowie’s passing continues to be difficult. While many people my age only know him through Labyrinth, my husband (who, btw, has been a fan of Bowie’s since 1973 or so) introduced me to Bowie’s music about ten years ago and I’ve been a big fan ever since.

In our culture, we get the message that grief is generally bad. I mean, it’s appropriate for a short amount of time to grieve in public, but after that–why don’t you just get over it? Also, it’s OK to grieve over a friend or family member, but an animal, or someone you’ve never met? Sorry, that’s just embarrassing. You can be sad for a day or two, but otherwise you need to get over it.

I think David Bowie’s passing led me consider grief more deeply than I had before, and it made me more open-hearted toward other people I don’t know who have died of cancer. I was very much saddened by Alan Rickman’s passing as well (I was literally closer to Rickman than to Bowie, having been within about three feet of Rickman a couple of years ago.) He was one of my favorite actors even before the Harry Potter films, and I remember being overjoyed when I heard that he was going to be playing Snape, my favorite character. And yet for some reason, David Bowie has been the locus of my grief. I have put a picture of him on my altar, and it will stay there until February 20th, his 49th day in the bardo. (Traditionally, in Buddhism, it takes someone 49 days to transition from one incarnation to the next. Even though I’m a Buddhist, the jury is still out for me on whether reincarnation actually exists, but I do love the idea of having 49 days of formal grieving.)

Opening to grief has had a deeper impact on me this month than I would have ever thought possible. For I have begun to seriously think about and feel grief, not simply for indiviual people, but for our planet. Last week I attended a panel on climate change, held by some local delegates who were at the Paris summit last month. What I took from that panel was the unshakable conviction of something that I have been avoiding looking in the face of for a long time: at this point, climate change cannot be stopped. Even if we were to stop the use of fossil fuels tomorrow, there is no way we can stop the effects of climate change, which will continue to persist for at least a thousand years. At first, this seems like deeply despair-inducing news. And yet, it made things very simple for me, really. While I’ve been thinking a lot about my career and what I can do to further it in the short term, this has also made me think much about my purpose in this life, on this earth, at this time. Overall, I have been feeling tender and joyful, more sensitive to the beauties of our world which we are about to lose. I have come to understand that my purpose in this life is to help people cope with collapse and disaster mentally and emotionally. My purpose is also to help them understand the beauty of life that we have on this earth, and to cherish it while we still can. I don’t know if the future is going to be some sort of Mad Max scenario (I actually kind of doubt that it is) but it is clear that Business As Usual is going to become impossible during my lifetime.

Last night I did a tarot reading to help me clarify my focus and approach to all this, which I may share here. For now I’ll say that I have let the Three of Swords come into my heart, which I am holding lightly and tenderly, and for which I am thankful.

So there has been my month. One one hand, all I’ve been doing is sitting around knitting! On the other hand, I’ve been growing and opening and grieving and enjoying life in ways that makes me think I haven’t just started a new year–I have started a new era of my life. And this is where the Life card, with its little sprouting seed, comes in. Yes, new life is coming and it’s taking root.

The Wooden Tarot: Suit of Plumes 6-10

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

Six of Plumes

A Common Mallard swims away, looking over his shoulder with two eyes on the same side of his head. Six dark-brown feathers trail behind him.

This is another card that conjures up the image of its corresponding card in the Waite-Smith deck fairly well. This somber-looking Mallard decisively sims away, although his backward look suggests that he is not moving on without leaving something worthwhile–or painful–behind. This card echoes the Four of Plumes as well: the bird’s plucked feathers suggest a respite after pain or trauma.

Keys: leaving a painful situation behind; learning from past mistakes; sacrificing comfort or certainty for the great good; abandoning an idea, belief, or ideology that no longer serves you

Reversed: being unable to move on; operating from beliefs that are not helpful; stuck in outdated assumptions about yourself or others; making excuses for staying in an unhealthy or painful situation

Seven of Plumes

A Common Raven with an extra eye perches on an arrow, holding a small yellow transparent orb in its beak. Six other orbs stick to its feathers.

I think this is a raven, rather than a crow, for a couple of reasons: the more pronounced curve of its bill and the face that it dwarfs the arrow on which it perches. (Ravens are huge.) I am not the best person to discuss raven folklore, but suffice it to say that the raven is association with a lot of it all over the word. It seems that the raven most often appears as a bird of ill-omen or a trickster.

This raven seems to think it’s pretty clever, adorning itself with (perhaps stolen) baubles. I think there are several ways that this image can be interpreted, but the strong sense that I get is that the raven has stolen its little ball, not realizing that it wears the evidence of its theft. This reminds me of our inability to see our own faults even though they are clearly visible to others. How oven have we seen an aggressive person come to the conclusion that someone is an asshole, or a controlling person criticize someone for being a control freak? To me, this card is about trying to get away with something but forgetting that what we try to hide will be visible in some other way, and the things about ourselves we try to repress will always be projected onto others.

Keys: self-deception; trying to hide things from others; hypocrisy; leading a double-life; dishonesty–whether from malice or vulnerability–is somewhere in the situation.

Reversed: being (painfully) honest with yourself; coming clean about a situation; getting caught; seeing through someone’s ruse, or being seen by others

Eight of Plumes

A quiver with seven arrows in it. An eighth arrow pierces the quiver.

When I first saw this card, I thought it corresponded to the Eight of Wands. Then I thought, “No, that’s not right,” and tried to square it in my head with the Waite-Smith image of a blindfolded woman tied up among eight swords. It was only after I realized that one of the arrows is actually piercing the quiver (not easy to see at first glance) that the meaning of this card made sense to me.

I think the meaning of this card is closer to the Thoth meaning for the Eight of Swords–Interference. The arrow, which should be aimed outward to accomplish its objective, is instead turned back on the place that it came from. It may or may not be preventing the other arrows from being shot, but in any case no bow is in sight. Unlike The Hermit or the Four of Plumes, turning inward is not helpful here. This card states that getting out of your head is the best way to move on.

Keys: being hamstrung, especially by self-hating or self-limiting thoughts and beliefs; self-sabotage; focusing on limitations rather than possibilities; turning against oneself

Reversed: clearly seeing through conceptual limitations; taking responsibility for your future; letting go of ideas that limit you

Nine of Plumes

A cluster of four Barn Owl faces. The largest in the center has a third eye.

If the Seven of Blooms leaves me feeling icky, this is the card in the Wooden Tarot that sends chills down my spine. In the Waite-Smith deck, this card of insomnia and mental torment is portrayed by showing a woman sitting up in bed with her face in her hands. Here, instead of portraying that experience, the card invokes it. Barn Owls are the ghost-like faces of the night, completely silent until they send up an unsettling cry. These deep black eyes reflect our disquietude back to us–perhaps in them we see the demons of our past or our fears for the future. In any case, they do not look away. It may be that the only way to deal with these thoughts is to steadily meet their gaze.

Keys: haunting thoughts; regret or remorse; self-hatred; anxiety; destructive thought patterns; depression; being kept up and night by negative thoughts

Reversed: seeing things in broad daylight; getting a new perspective on a formerly troubling issue; facing fears instead of running away;

Ten of Plumes

A small bird lies on its back, pierced by ten arrows.

Like the Three of Plumes, this card closely resembles its corresponding card in the Waite-Smith deck. Unlike the man pierced with ten swords in the latter, however, there is no blood here–not even any dislocated feathers. It is simple, matter of fact, and the lack of gore tells me that this is a death that is happening, not in the realm of the physical, but in the realm of the mind. We’ve arrived at the end of a cycle with this card–in fact, we’ve gone past the end into the place where regeneration is possible.

Since I’ve started reading tarot, my interpretation of the 10 of Swords/Air has basically become: STOP THINKING. THINKING ABOUT THIS ANY LONGER WILL NOT SOLVE ANYTHING AND CONTINUE TO CAUSE HARM. YOU ARE BEATING A DEAD HORSE. YOU ARE FOLLOWING A BELIEF OR IDEOLOGY THAT IS SIMPLY UNTRUE. STOP THINKING! That’s how I see the card, caps lock and all. We have bottomed out in our thoughts and beliefs; this is a kind of death because moving forward will never be possible. It is painful because being in this position requires losing faith in someone or something, or having to give up an identity category, or realizing that something you took for granted as being true isn’t, which throws everything into doubt as well. But it’s only from this place of pain that new wisdom can be sought.

Keys: dead end; crisis of faith in a person or belief system; feeling distressed or overwhelmed by knowledge or lack of it;

Reversed: moving on from loss; being able to enter greater truths by leaving old ones behind; realizing that a thought pattern or belief doesn’t serve you anymore

The Wooden Tarot: Suit of Plumes 2-5

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

Two of Plumes

Two partially folded, white-gray wings appear on either side of a waxing crescent moon. Above it floats a lemniscate.

As with the other twos, the lemniscate indicates balance and change. In a bird’s wings, balance is extremely important since a bird cannot fly with an injured or deformed wing. Without perfect symmetry or equal participation, flight can’t take place.

I see this card’s meaning as being closer to that of the Two of Swords in the Thoth deck–“Peace”–than in the Waite-Smith deck. In the latter, a woman sits holding two crossed swords across her chest, suggesting that the swords work at cross-purposes. Hence the common interpretation of this card as being about needing to make a decision–either this sword or that sword must be chosen, but not both. In the Wooden Tarot Two of Plumes, the wings work together, making for a very different meaning.

The question this card asks is: How do ideas or belief systems hold each other in balance? For instance, in a legal case, one wing cold represent the law, while the other could represent what is fair from a human-centered perspective. A common image in Buddhist thought is the wings of wisdom and compassion. Wisdom without compassion is cold and heartless, and will ultimately not benefit anyone. Compassion without wisdom is misguided and perhaps even harmful. Just like a bird needs both wings to fly, we need wisdom and compassion to act skillfully.

The Two of Plumes, then, is not so much about making a one-or-the-other decision, but about figuring out how to balance ideas and paradigms. And if the lemniscate didn’t clue you in, the waxing crescent moon shows that there is no one right answer for all time. Things are in constant change, and so the kinds of knowledge and practices are appropriate to bring to any situation will always be changing as well.

Keys: balance; fairness; tempering extreme ideas; balance of head and heart; making a decision or undertaking a project with a balanced perspective; neither extreme optimism nor extreme pessimism; sense and sensibility

Reversed: continually favoring one set of ideas or beliefs over another; dogma; unwillingness to meet halfway on an idea; assuming that the same idea or procedure applies equally in all situations; losing perspective

Three of Plumes

Three arrows pierce a heart.

This is one of the few places in the deck where Swartz stays close to the Waite-Smith image. It’s one of the most universally recognizable and interpret-able image in tarot, and its associations with pain and grief are easy to see.

It’s worth noting a couple of things about this card, though. The first is the thickness of Swartz’s arrows. All throughout this suit, arrows are thin–basically drawn as a single line, rather than cylinder. To me, this emphasizes the airy insubstantiality of thought and the truth that thoughts and words can hurt so deeply even though they are not “real” in a physical sense.

Second–look at the arrowheads on these arrows. Make no mistake–these are for hunting, not archery. Whether true or not, it feels like someone has taken direct aim at us and is trying to bring us down.

But to me, the most important thing about this card is the anatomical detail of the heart, which is very different from the stylized heart in the Waite-Smith or Sola Busca (the deck whose 3 of Swords the Waite-Smith image is based.) While, miraculously, no blood drips from this heart, we see it in great detail–muscle, ventricle, artery, vein. This could mean that the pain is raw–almost too much to look at–or that we are prone to over analyzing it and thinking about it in detail.

This reminds me of another classic Buddhist teaching: the two arrows. We get struck with the first arrow, which causes a great amount of pain–we get fired, snubbed by a friend, cheated on, etc. That pain is an inevitable part of life. But then we hit ourselves with a second arrow in the same place (which of course hurts much worse) because of the way that we react to the first: lashing out in anger, drowning in self-hatred, and obsessing about what has happened. So in this card, the heart’s detail has two dimensions: the pain itself, and the additional pain caused by obsessively thinking about and examining it. It asks: where is the line between necessary grief and refusing to let go and move on?

Keys: pain; grief; loss; betrayal;

Reversed: obsessing or over thinking something painful that has happened; feeling stuck and unable to move on (Note: depending on the context of the reading, this card reversed could also mean a lessening or ending of pain)

Four of Plumes

A small gray bird lies with its wings stretched in front of it, eyes closed. Four of its feathers are scattered around it.

This is the first of several birds we will encounter in this suit. While Swartz can be extremely precise as to species, this one strikes me as being a fairly generic bird. It may be worth noting that its wings look similar to those in the Two of Plumes.

I usually see the Four of Swords as a fairly positive card, but this card is a little darker. This is not a natural position for a bird to be in. If I saw one like this outside, my first assumption would be that it had died a violent death (even when they die from hitting windows their wings usually fold back up.) At best, it has been knocked unconscious. I’m just going to take it on faith that this bird is alive, but in any case it’s been through some sort of trauma. Perhaps it can pull itself back together, but those feathers are gone for good.

[Note: I know that some people might have a gentler interpretation of this card, since it kind of looks like the bird is cuddled up sleeping. But once a birder, always a birder, you know?]

Keys: slow healing; after-effects of trauma, recent or far in the past; moving slowly in grief; licking your wounds; cutting your losses

Reversed: readiness to move on; completion of healing

Five of Plumes

A three-eyed Blue Jay is perched on the edge of a nest. Three of the five eggs in the nest have been broken.

In this card, Swartz’s precise attention to bird species is on display. For those who do not live in eastern North America, let me give you the low-down on the Blue Jay. They are beautiful, loud, aggressive birds. They will not hesitate to terrorize the neighborhood cat that comes too close to their nests. They will send up loud alarm calls at the slightest hint of a predator. They are absolutely gorgeous, but have a mixed reputation at feeders due to their habit of chasing smaller birds away.

Blue jays are also omnivorous and have been known to eat eggs and nestlings, which makes them the perfect species for this card. The Blue Jay perched on this nest wears an inscrutable expression. It could be just finishing its meal of three eggs, or it could be a mother returning to the nest to find all but two of her eggs eaten. All is not lost–this is not the lowest point in the suit–but damage has been done. This card carries the same ambiguity as the Waite-Smith Five of Swords, which could be about the haughty aggressor or those who walk away from him in battle. The third eye on this Blue Jay does suggest, however, that whether aggressor or victim, there will be an opportunity to gain spiritual insight from this encounter.

Keys: aggression; theft; domination; trickery; OR being on the receiving end of aggression or some sort of fraud–a good deal of damage has been done, but it’s best to learn your lesson for next time and be thankful for what you still have

Reversed: rectifying an injustice or striking back at an aggressor; a battle in which there may be no clearly right or just side;

The Wooden Tarot: Introduction to the Suit of Plumes

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

Air/Swords/Plumes

In both the Suits of Stones and Plumes of the Wooden Tarot, it almost seems as if there are two suit symbols. In the case of Stones, both horns/antlers and gem-like stones appear with equal frequency. In this suit, Swartz has in some ways imaginatively fused together feathers and arrows.

Aside from Blooms, this is the suit symbol that makes the most sense to me intuitively. In the Collective Tarot, it’s called the Suit of Feathers; in the Wildwood Tarot, it’s called the Suit of Arrows. This is because of the suit’s association with air. This suit also has an association with pain and violence, but by using both feathers and arrows, Swartz has more flexibility in how he renders the cards.

Feathers in themselves are harmless enough, and we will see that in the lighter cards of the suit, like Four and Six, what we see are simply feathers. But feathers can also be used to guide deadly arrow shafts, keeping them on course, and so all of the arrows appearing on the cards have conspicuous feathered fletching.

Swartz does not take advantage of this association, but we could also think of plumes as the literal instrument of the intellect: the feather quill, used for so many centuries by people to write down their thoughts.

The God of Plumes

Dressed in a brown robe, the God of plumes holds a feather with a pointed arrow tip between their hands. Clouds appear in the background. Sprigs of greenery are placed around the God’s shoulders. An eye–directed slightly upwards–peers out from the alchemical suit for air: an upright triangle with a line through it.

We can tell this is an active, rather than receptive, suit because the God’s eye is slightly directed upward. Unlike the Gods of Blooms and Bones, who have fairly open hand gestures, the God of Plumes holds the suit symbol quite precisely between two fingers. The other fingers on their hands are curled inward. This suggests that this God values both being precise and playing things close to the vest.

I haven’t been able to figure out what the greenery around the God’s shoulders is. On first glance, I thought it was mistletoe, but that didn’t seem right. However, looking at pictures of mistletoe foliage makes me think that it is indeed mistletoe. Mistletoe, while associated with kissing at Christmas nowadays, was a sacred plant to the Druids and could be used for healing and to signify nonviolence. If this is mistletoe, it’s an interesting choice, but since I’m not sure I won’t unpack all of the implications.

The feather/arrow held by the God is the perfect emblem of the suit–lithe and graceful but also deadly much like the intellect, which can dazzle with its brilliance but cut to the bone. In some ways, I feel that the Wooden Tarot takes a balanced approach to the suit of air/swords, which can often be interpreted as mostly negative and is where tarot artists get their chance to practice gore if they like. The God of Plumes is an impartial figure, and what they hold in their hands can be used for good or ill. It’s important to remember that Major cards like Justice and the Star are also airy cards (in some systems) and that the intellect can be a very positive force in tarot.

Keys: an idea in its purest form–either a new idea or a thought experiment; the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake; a source of knowledge–anything from a gossipy friend to the library

Reversed: refusing to verify things factually; being in denial; ignorance

A God of Plumes Reading

The Eye: What insight is waiting for me about the role of intellect in my life?

The Bloom: What do I need to know?

The Wooden Tarot: Court of Blooms

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

I have some general notes on the court cards of the Wooden Tarot in general at the top of my entry for the Court of Bones. I will add a general note because we’re seeing the third eye on the animals in these cards, which was absent on the skulls in the Suit of Bones. The truth is this: I don’t know much about third eyes, other than the association with insight and inner awakening. As I said in the introduction to the Suit of Bones, well…it’s a bare bones suit! It doesn’t seem to have much to do with spiritual endeavor or intuition. Not surprising that the Courts wouldn’t have a third eye.

In the Suit of Blooms, we’re seeing most of the figures from a more 3/4 view, meaning that we can see their third eye quite clearly. In the Suit of Plumes (Swords), the courts all have an extra eye, but since they are all shown in profile, the implication is that they actually have four eyes. Perhaps this has to do with the suit’s association with intelligence. Rather than the mystical third eye, the courts in the Suit of Plumes have four eyes so they can see the facts more clearly.

Interestingly enough, however, the court cards for the Suit of Stones (Wands) have no third eye (although, to be fair, they have crystals growing directly from their bodies, and why would you need a third eye when you have that?) This is a bit surprising to me, given the suit’s association with spirit and creativity. Mostly, it emphasizes to me that Blooms are THE suit of intuition and insight in this deck. We’re not just talking about cards that deal with emotion and relationships, but with the magical things that hold those relationships together–deep insight into ourselves and others.

Page of Blooms

A Blue Angel Nudibranch with an eye in the middle of its head swims inside a crystal ball or a large, round drop of water. The ball sits at the center of a white lily-like flower; water splashes from behind the flower and drips off the petals.

I really have to thank the members of the Wooden Tarot Study Group on Facebook for figuring out what on earth this animal is: Glaucus atlanticus. I figured it was some sort of nudibranch but didn’t have a clue as to the species.

This little guy is TINY–only about an inch long. And yet, they are terrifying because they float on the surface of water and sting to death much larger prey than themselves, including Portuguese Man o’ War. That’s right. This little one inch long creature kills and eats Portuguese Man o’ War. And aside from its small size and terrifying eating habits, this little critter also belongs to one of the most beautiful types of animals in the world: nudibranchs. Don’t believe me? Just look at these pictures.

Despite its power, the Page of Blooms (Cups) upholds the tradition of being the most feminine and delicate Page of the deck (although the Dik Dik, which is the Page of Stones in the Wooden Tarot, will certainly give it a run for its money.) The white lily on this card symbolizes purity and innocence. Eating of venemous jellyfish aside, we might think of this Page as being very passive (as befits Earth of Water), waiting to be discovered by friends and romantic interests and needing to be drawn out of their shell. Once they are drawn out, however, they are potent and passionate–a force to be reckoned with.

Keys: quietly carrying a great amount of sensitivity and passion; shyness in meeting new friends or lovers; an inexperienced lover; quiet, delicate beauty

Reversed: being unsure of how to handle strong emotions; emotional immaturity; sensitivity causing one to fixate in unhealthy ways–such as in self-hatred or by seeking revenge; emotional dependence rather than interdependence

Knight of Blooms

A three-eyed swordfish bursts from the center of a rose. Water splashes all around.

Woah! Here comes the Knight of Blooms, and they aren’t messing around. The swordfish is the perfect fish for this card–it’s a literal jouster! (I guess a narwhal would have been a good choice, too, but I like the non-mammal theme of this suit.) These are beautiful, aggressive fish who have a habit of showing themselves off by breaching (jumping out of the water) and using their bills to slash prey.

The rose on this card continues the Knight of Cups’s long association with romance and idealism. The Knight of Blooms makes decisions based on their gut and is quick in carrying things out. They feel strongly and will do whatever it takes to protect those they love. They can also be quick to take offense and long to hold a grudge. As a lover, the Knight is not a slow burn type of person. They will tell you how they feel up front and take the lead in moving through stages of intimacy.

Keys: passion; emotional loyalty; being honest about your feelings; acting on your gut, rather than waiting to figure out things with logic; being up front with how you feel

Reversed: overly-sensitive; wearing your heart on your sleeve and reacting sulkily or defensively when you get rejected; reacting with anger to feelings of vulnerability; holding grudges against other people and/or shutting them out because they–intentionally or not–hurt your feelings

Queen of Blooms

A three-eyed octopus emerges from a large, pink lotus blossom. Splashes of water surround them, while the moon rises from behind.

What an amazing choice for the Queen of Blooms! Octopus are among the most intelligent of invertebrates. They are strong, they are wily, they are masters of disguise. I dare you to watch this video without dropping your jaw. The octopus can disguise itself so well because it can tell in a split second what color and texture it needs to make its skin in order to blend in with its surroundings. When their amazing techniques of self-disguise don’t work, the pull the old ink-and-run maneuver.

The Queen of Blooms is my significator, so I almost feel like I’m writing a self-description here. I was puzzled at first, once I read more about the octopus, I became convinced that it is the perfect animal for this card.

The Queen of Blooms watches their surroundings closely. They have a strong sense of intuition (this card is often matched with the INFJ personality type) and adapt well to a variety of personalities and social situations. They are a shape-shifter, though, and others may have a difficult time getting to know them. The Queen of Blooms may be secretive–but often for no good reason. They may retreat and hide themselves simply because they want to be alone. However, when they are called upon to give emotional strength, they will do so.

Keys: intuition; the ability to get along with a wide variety of personalities; strength in emotional support of oneself and others; emotional independence and self-worth; having good people skills/being good at “reading” people

Reversed: hiding away; pretending to fit in with unhealthy social situations; shutting others out–intentionally or not; being so secretive it hurts those close to you; being so so socially adaptable as to be without a strong sense of self

King of Blooms

A three-eyed purple and blue betta fish emerges from a large white bloom. Splashes of water surround them, while the sun rises from behind.

And now we’re back on the small end of things. Betta fish are small, very beautiful, and very aggressive fish. The males in particular have long flowing fins and often fight each other–even to the death. Like the Knight of Blooms, the King of Blooms tends to combine showiness with aggression. Like the beautiful fins on the betta fish, which advertise reproductive prowess, the King of Cups has many qualities that would make them a good long-term partner–not least a willingness to fight for a relationship, even in adverse circumstances.

However, the King of Blooms can also be a moody loner (male bettas are usually kept alone in aquariums because they will kill each other.) Their willingness to fight for what they love may have backfired, and now they will fight to keep others out. Hence the reputation that the King of Cups has acquired for being emotionally detached. Whether the King of Blooms is a fighter/lover or a loner will depend on the context of the reading.

Keys: emotional maturity–often on prominent display; wanting to make a relationship work; someone in a “provider” role for a relationship or family–orchestrating things so everyone spends time together and feels included; putting the greater good of a relationship above one’s personal feelings

Reversed: emotional coldness; being detached in a situation that calls for compassion; feeling hurt or embittered by past relationships

The Wooden Tarot: Suit of Blooms 6-10

This is part of an ongoing series in which I write about my interpretations of the cards in A.L. Swartz’s Wooden Tarot. You can find the other posts here.

Well, this post clocks in at over 1,700 words!!! I didn’t mean to do so much writing, but these cards were more difficult to interpret than I thought they would be. I got them intuitively, but it was difficult to put it into words. Anyway, around the time I started this post, I saw that Marianne at Two Sides Tarot also published a post on these five cards. I waited until after I wrote mine to read hers, and I’m pleased to see that she could pull totally different things out of them!

Six of Blooms

A white lily-like flower on a stalk emerges from a seed. The flower has six stamens, on the end of each of which is an eyeball.

Here we have another botanical impossibility–although this might not be as impossible as two flowers blooming from each other or fruit and flowers on a branch at the same time. A flower emerges from a seed–showing its close connection with its origins. In the Thoth tarot, the Six of Cups is called “Pleasure,” and denotes general enjoyment of the pleasures in life. The Waite-Smith deck, though, has a bit more of a specific meaning. In it, we see a little boy handing a little girl a cup full of flowers, denoting innocent and nostalgic pleasures. This card holds both of those meanings, I think.

For the first time, we encounter eyeballs, which we’ll see in the next three cards. The eyeball is also featured prominently on the backs of the cards as well (which makes doing a “messy pile” shuffle a lot of fun) and on each of the Gods, so now it might be time to reflect on what the eyeball might mean in the context of this deck.

When I do a spread, I draw all the cards from a fan and keep them face down until all and drawn. This means that if I am doing a Celtic cross, for instance, I will have 10 eyeballs staring at me before I turn the cards over. (This is far less unsettling than I thought it would be before I got the deck.) The eye on the back of the card promises insight: your question has a 10 part answer, and each of these cards is an eye, a different perspective on the issue. As for the Gods, with their floating eyeballs, they seem to me to signify not simply beginnings, as aces do, but also the purest manifestations of the suits. The God of each suit is pure insight removed from the body of particulars. Interestingly, it should be noted that disembodied eyeballs do not appear anywhere in the major arcana.

The eyeballs that appear in the Suit of Blooms, then, have to do with insight into emotions and relationships–that is, emotional intelligence. The six eyeballs on the flower in the Six go beyond pleasure or nostalgia, but have to do with understanding of the roots of pleasure and nostalgia. The six eyes can show us different perspectives on issues surrounding our relationships, not only remembering the good times, but keeping our perspective during challenging times.

Keys: sharing pleasures with friends and family; acting skillfully in maintaining relationships; being generous and patient with loved ones when they are challenging; getting perspective on what is truly important when it comes to relationships

Reversed: emotional conflict or discord; forgetting why you love someone in the first place; refusing to see eye to eye on issues; keeping the blinders on

Seven of Blooms

A yellow flower with an eyeball at it center. Nestled in the petals are fourteen shiny white spheres.

Despite the Wooden Tarot’s reputation for creepy/unsettling art, this is the only card in the deck that gives me the Jibblies. It’s not the eyeball itself–it’s the little white things, which I imagine have the texture of fish eggs and jiggle a little bit when you touch them. Ewwwww.

OK!! Moving on. It’s worth noting that the Seven of Blooms in this deck corresponds to what is also the grossest card in the Thoth deck–the Seven of Cups, “Debauch.” I don’t know if Swartz actually meant for this to be the case, but I think the gross factor can help us relate the card to both the Waite-Smith and Thoth meanings.

In the Smith-Waite deck, the card is about fantasies and false choices. A person stands in front of 7 cups filled with the stuff of daydreams–good and bad–which themselves float on a cloud. All of the options seem both illusory and bewitching, but not worth putting your trust in. For the Seven of Blooms, I think of the eye in the flower as being the only true choice out of 15 possible choices.

In Tarot Wisdom, Rachel Pollack notes now drastically the Waite-Smith Seven of Cups departs from what seven means on the Kabbalist tree of life. Going by the Kabbalist attribution, the card would mean “great emotion, someone who loves powerfully.” In any case, “This is a card that might need balancing with other elemental energy.” (p. 325) That’s why I think the Thoth card means debauch, and we can get from the Seven of Blooms, too. There’s something not right about this flower–it’s literally overblown, and the color is sickly. Are those pearls nestled in the petals, or are we going to reach out to find gross jiggly things instead? This card suggests too much. Whether that too much has come to pass, or is only fantasized about, it reminds us that “decadence” and “decay” are rooted in the same word.

Keys: overblown feelings; fixated on ideals of love and relationship, rather than reality; getting yourself stirred up emotionally over something that won’t happen–like getting a crush on a celebrity; investing emotions where they are not wanted or will not be reciprocated

Reversed: disillusionment; choosing to withdraw emotional energy from somewhere and invest it in something healthier; realizing when enough is enough; getting out of a bad relationship

Eight of Blooms

A waning moon/eyeball is surrounded by eight pinkish-white flower petals.

The eyeball in this card is only suggested–it is frosted over, or perhaps it has a cataract. The waning crescent moon suggests a cycle, as if the intelligence that animates the card is going through a pattern of waxing and waning over and over again. The circular arrangement of the petals suggests this as well.

The detached petals remind me of the “He loves me, he loves me not” game of pulling petals from flowers as a means of divination. All it comes down to is whether or not there is an even or odd number of petals on the flower. If they are odd, “He loves me.” If they are even, like they are in this card, “he loves me not.” After the debauch of the Seven of Blooms, we have sobered up here, and are able to see things in perspective. Feelings come and go; relationships come and go. They follow cycles, like the tide follows the moon. This card is about seeing the larger perspective, understanding how the cycle works, and realizing that when the moon is waning, or when “he loves me not,” there may be grace in walking away.

Keys: seeing things in perspective; diminishment of something that once nourished or excited you; walking away from people, habits, jobs, hobbies, or anything else that no longer support your emotionally

Reversed: clinging to a relationship or emotion that feels stale; seeing, but not following, signs that it’s time to move on; staying in a bad or stifling situation for a reason that makes sense: financial stability, keeping the family together, being a caregiver

Nine of Blooms

Eight small pink blossoms emerge from a branch bent to make a circle, and within the circle is a ninth, larger bloom.

After the weirdo eyeball flowers, this card may seem merely decorative–and yet it’s next on our list of botanical impossibilities. Notice that the branch in this card looks as if it were attached to the tree at both ends. How could such a branch grow? Would it connect two trees together, or would it connect to the same tree in two places, making a closed loop?

The Nine of Cups in the Waite-Smith deck features a guy sitting in front of his impressive cup collection, looking supremely self-satisfied. In the Thoth tarot, this beautiful card is simply called “Happiness.” The closed loop of the branch suggests as much–completion, security, fulfillment. Nothing needs to be added. But like the Waite-Smith card, it also suggests isolation and perhaps a certain smugness–particularly if paired with another card suggesting stagnation, like the Four of Blooms. The question is: are you happy because you know how to balance the good and the bad and grow emotionally, or because you are shutting out the suffering of yourself and others?

Key: happiness; a wish fulfilled; emotional contentment; having a strong circle of friends and family; may mean smugness or ignoring the suffering of others, depending on context

Reversed: getting what you want, but it turns out to be disappointing or destructive; dreams deferred; realizing that something you wished for is no longer worth it; setbacks in the pursuit of a goal

Ten of Blooms

A pink lotus flower with dew dripping from the leaves. In the center is nestled a crystal ball, slightly reminiscent of an eyeball. Behind the flower are rays of rainbow light.

Ah! And here we are–the rainbow colors of the Ten. If the Nine of Blooms is about insulated and perhaps isolated happiness and pleasure, then this card radiates outward. It’s a card about broadcasting love into the universe, which makes for a strong center. This may be the last appearance of an eyeball in the suit–the sphere in the center is somewhere between a very blurry eye and a clairvoyant’s crystal ball. This card connects happiness and love with intuition and insight–perhaps the person who can see unhappiness in other and knows how to respond in a positive way, or someone who just radiates good feelings to all around them.

I know this card is traditionally associated with family/domestic life, although I would expand it generally and say: this is a card about having a stable home base, whether that be your family, your circle of friends, but most importantly: yourself. With a solid foundation, radiance is possible.

Keys: self-esteem; healthy, loving relationships; being emotionally generous; putting emotional intelligence to good use; emotional stability and fulfillment

Reversed: emotional disconnection with others; relationship difficulties on a small or large scale; lack of self-esteem; longing for loving relationships, but not wanting to work for them