The Tarot Year: February 19-28

the decan

the VIII of cups is named Abandoned Success. here, with Saturn in Pisces, the freedom of the fish is brought down to earth… and it doesn't like it very much. this is the first of the Pisces decans, covering roughly 19-28 February.

what does the 8 of cups mean in tarot? what does the 9 of wands mean in tarot?

it’s a classic burnout card – we put everything in, all we’ve got, exhaust ourselves, wonder what the hell we are doing, then walk away. it is a pattern to be found in work, relationships, culture – every aspect of life. but why are we like this?

the card I drew to read this decan is the IX of wands. as ever, what shows up here is the Tarot highlighting the dichotomy of choice – leave everything behind versus standing to fight your corner.

if the Tarot is about anything, it’s about facilitating choice – and here we need to go round all the houses to think about the extremes and all that lies between.

together, these cards speak of how we conduct and sustain ourselves through the difficult times, and ask us to look at our thinking, and the source of our power.

had enough, or are you refusing to let the bastards grind you down? are you sick of it all, or never say die? are you hanging in there, or hung out to dry?

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the advice

love without respect is worse than worthless

who is your endurance really for?

we cannot stay where we cannot be, and we cannot grow where there is no light

moving on = finding the person we lost in becoming the person we are

unresolved issues are like appliances on standby – draining

when you abandon something just make sure it’s not yourself

you can always force an ending, but then you also force a beginning

trying to avoid difficulty is a great way to find more of it

cutting something out of your life doesn’t always mean you’ve transcended it

what if letting go is just another way of being in control? try letting be

master the world by accepting it for what it is

only when you stop trying to control everything will you be able to contain anything

what happens if you see your problems as your allies?

support structure or prison wall? ask yourself – is this a useful container?

it’s the work we do after making a superhuman effort which is really superhuman

the symbols

just one decan lies between Earned Success (VI swords) and Abandoned Success, the VIII of cups. perhaps the difference between them is the card representing the decan between them – VII of swords, Unstable Effort.

it’s interesting that the IX of wands – Strength – comes to speak to the VIII – and it’s no surprise that the mini-quintessence of these two cards is VIII, in other words the Major Arcana of Strength. whatever direction we take in life it’s going to take all our resilience.

the IX of wands came up with the VI of swords – quite recently, of course – and it’s interesting that the Tarot throws up this archetypal image of holding the line or defending your corner against these two painfully poetic images of leaving.

perhaps, as we approach the ‘end’ of the pandemic (we shall see) the feeling of reserves having been used up is everywhere. the last two years have stretched most people to the limit. but it’s what you do after you’ve made a superhuman effort which is really superhuman.

abandonment is a harsh strategy. in essence, it is forcing an ending on a situation which may, or may not, be better left to play out organically. but sometimes life creates a situation where we find ourselves not so much wanting to leave, as not being able to stay.

collectively, we’ve been making incredible efforts to make sure as many of us as possible have survived. there have been huge sacrifices, of all kinds. naturally people will want to forget, but some people won’t be able to, and will be living with the effects for a long, long time to come.

in these cards we might see the recruitment crisis that sectors like health are facing, where people are abandoning careers in caring because they can no longer carry on. that’s a very specific example – some will find the strength to leave, some will find the strength to stay. the point is that we tend to abandon our successes when they are forcing us also to abandon ourselves.

the eight cups at the front of the card symbolise what is being left behind. they are five and three – and that gap in the top row tells us something has been missed.

just as the centre wand in the IX splits the pack of eight, here we are reminded that material and spiritual balance – the two squares making up the eight-pointed star – is not a stopping point.

the shadow side of the number eight is a risk of solidifying into a well-organised, but dogmatic existence, which admits no further possibility of change.

but the VIII of cups is elementally water of course, and that fluid quality allows it to move on – not to mention this is Pisces, which often has little problem swimming away, often with little warning.

the cups act as a wall at the front of the card – a block to progress, or a prison wall. the terrain behind shows a more difficult landscape, but the VIII marches into it – preferring a new challenge to the suffocating stasis presented in the foreground.

I’ve used the deck with the original colouring here, because it says something to us about the emotional condition of the experience. you’ll notice that, side-by-side, the two cards both have a bordered bottom fifth.

the IX is a conventional ‘stage’ card, which can suggest some element of virtue signalling in the performance of Strength – look at how much punishment I can take! what a good soldier I am! the usual endurance drill, which rarely serves anyone well.

the VIII doesn’t have that conventional border which suggests the painted backdrop – but look at the lips of that bottom row of cups – they break the bottom fifth into a separate area – and, oddly, you’ll notice that the foreground is painted a different colour to the rest of the ground.

if this were a stage card, of sorts, it would suggest the figure in the card is actually part of the painted backdrop. they are memory only, haunting the present like a ghost, gone but never to be forgotten.

and we might also be invited to think about the legacies of abandon success – what people leave behind when we take over from them, whether or not we live up to our predecessors, even how we use bequests when we feel the hand of intention from beyond the grave.

the red cloak and boots show the boldness of the abandoning, and the willpower involved in moving away from something that may have taken years to build, becoming a cherished part of self.

the eclipse tells us the decision may be the result of emotional distress, or just stress – the absence of light suggesting the loss of clear reason, to a degree.

but the figure carries a staff – and, like IX The Hermit, is led by the light of their own wisdom, which is stored inside. I read a post about The Hermit the other day interpreting the figure as Moses. perhaps the VIII is the walk across the bottom of the Red Sea, out of captivity.

the VIII faces the back of the card – looking inwards – using the inner light to guide them. and apparently guide them into the future, and the challenges it holds in that difficult terrain.

but again, if this were a stage card, and this were a stage, the figure would be exiting stage left – in the UK at least – and such a movement would be retrograde. but if it were in the US, they would be exiting stage right – and moving into the future.

what is forward and what is back here? that’s the issue with Tarot when it presents a dichotomy of choice – here, walking away, or standing your ground. it’s often a dilemma which brings people in for a reading, but what do we say when the cards support opposite paths? then, as readers, our role is to facilitate choice, not dictate it. all we can do is excavate the cards for all the wisdom we can.

it’s not easy – the problem with acting in such moments is that on one hand, we may look back and thank ourselves for getting out of a desperate situation we had come to accept as normal – and on the other, our decision may have created a regret that will haunt us for a long time.

that’s one reason why the IX is such an interesting card to receive here. that bandage indicates the psychic wound which causes the abandonment – how much more of this can I take?! but we must remember the astrology of this card is the Moon in Sagittarius.

the Moon confuses the arrow sharp, quick, and decisive mind of Sagittarius – who holds steady in response. but the Moon triggers an eclipse in the VIII and triggers the departure of our friend in the red cloak.

the Moon connects the cards, then, and so does that staff. they both lean on a staff – but the IX is static, two hands on the wheel as it were – whereas the VIII is in motion, using the staff to support movement. it’s the dichotomy that shows us our choice – we can remain in the tension between walking out and staying put, we can use our wisdom and strength to travel on or hold our ground.

whatever we decide in situations like this, we must make sure it’s congruent with our experience, and comes from the deepest wisdom we have. acting from a place of deception or confusion when we are in a crisis never goes well.

an interesting parallel between the cards is the symbolic walls – the cups at the front – the wands at the back. the IX is holding the line – the VIII is hemmed in. both figures have their backs to ‘the wall.’ do the structures we build support us, contain us usefully, or imprison our souls?

it’s interesting to compare the headbands of the III of wands and I Magician with the bandages of the IX. headbands are powerful symbols of mental togetherness – focus – but here we see the expansive Sagittarian mind spilling out, and creating injury, through lack of containment.

Pisces often finds containment difficult. feelings of being boxed in, trapped, suffocated – by work, partners, home life – often Pisces will simply swim away to better situation. the mythological story behind the astrological glyph is quite telling – two curves joined by a line.

it represents Aphrodite and Eros, who were being pursued, and so tied themselves together with silver cord as they transformed into fish, leaping into a river to escape. in the RWS the silver string is lost, and Pisces is moving on in search of something they perhaps already have, but can no longer tolerate. both cards speak of the prisons we erect for ourselves.

our attachment to achievement, wealth, fame – however we define success – comes to dominate our horizon until there’s no space left for us to breathe.

if we were to interpret the VIII as a stage card, and the figure as a painted figure, we could think of this as a life that has been reduced to two-dimensionality – someone who has become known only for work and achievement, a shadow of their former self, someone who must move on if they are to find the person who they’ve lost in becoming the person that they now are.

another image of restriction in costume – the IX is cinched tight at the waist, whereas the red cloak of the VIII flows. this is someone who rejects or no longer needs such restrictive discipline. the VIII could easily be a woman, of course, and likely is – the narrower shoulder over the broader hips.

whereas the IX, I think, is not ambiguous at all – in fact, is archetypally ‘masculine’ – almost warrior-like. dependent on context, overtones of stereotyped gender performance may be relevant here. perhaps the VIII has hit a glass ceiling and feels she must leave – perhaps the IX cannot envision himself without a certain status or power and will do anything to maintain it.

do you fight on, or do you give up? it’s not always our choice. sometimes we cannot stay; and then it’s not a question of wanting to leave, but of respecting oneself, and respecting the boundaries we have about how we should be treated.

we may love someone very deeply but if they do not respect us at core what choice is there but to put our own sanity, integrity, and worth first and foremost? walking away from love is one of the hardest and most brave decisions we have to take, but most people will have to take it at some point in their life.

another frame – when a boss bullies, a partner lies or cheats, when colleagues dump impossible tasks on us, when we can no longer grow – even though we have built a whole world around us – how do we find the strength to leave? or do we need to find the strength to stay and fight it out?

how we respond to difficulty, both inwardly and outwardly, is a key marker of who we are as people. maybe we take it as a spiritual challenge, and our beliefs allow us to endure. maybe we act from ego and walk away at the first sign of trouble.

in moments like these, thinking about what it would mean to respect oneself can help. remember your boundaries. if they have been crossed, assaulted, or destroyed, then you are under attack, even if you may not realise it, or feel it. and remember, we cannot stay where we cannot be, and we cannot grow where there is no light.

beneath the surface

the astrology of the VIII is Saturn in Pisces, of course meeting Moon in Sagittarius in the IX. the lunar amplification of the mind gives fiery Sagittarius pause for thought – in this pairing, we can see how the Moon shuts down Sagittarius’s ability to see the path ahead.

similarly, Saturn – the planet of rules, restrictions, limits, and practical sense – acts on Pisces here to shut down the expansive imagination and creativity of the sign. it’s worth remembering that in the old astrology, Pisces, like Sagittarius, was ruled by Jupiter (not Neptune), and the signs still share that feeling of expansiveness and love of life, and pleasure.

with these cards we are in the classic Jupiter-Saturn dichotomy between the innovative and the traditional, the young and the old, the code of conduct and the need to be free. in the ancient world the balancing of expansion and restriction was an important aspect of living wisdom.

in terms of the Tarot year idea I’ve been working on, it’s interesting that the Mutable Sequence, from Sagittarius to Pisces, is therefore book-ended by the influence of Jupiter – and the filling of that sandwich is Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and Aquarius, ruled by Saturn in the old astrology (not Uranus).

at the end of the Tarot year, then, whatever it is we have been working on will be tested by the tension between freedom and restriction. it may be found wanting, and break apart, but it may also be strengthened by the test. between these Sagittarius and Pisces cards, therefore, we see a tension – which we may experience as chaotic – but which we should try to see as experiencing mutability. we can try to see our problems as our greatest allies.

the lunar connection between these cards – the eclipse in the VIII, and the Moon in Sagittarius of the IX – really shows up on the Tree of Life and describes the tension between them still further.

the VIII’s are assigned to Hod, representing Mercury, and named Splendour. this aspect of the godhead, if you will, reminds us of divine intelligence – both inwardly expressed, and externally. we might think of Splendour as omniscience – the ultimate, all-knowing light of intelligence.

the IX’s are assigned to Yesod, named Foundation, and represented by the Moon. these two sephira are connected by pathway 30, represented by XIX The Sun. so here we have divine intelligence amplified and shared by the light of the sun, which meets the moon, which in turn reflects it back – creating not only self-awareness, but also self-doubt.

these two Tarot cards ask us to look at our wisdom, the wisdom of our choices, and to question whether our instinctual and emotional reactions are sufficient foundation for our decisions. for these reasons, the image of the eclipse, and the psychic injury shown by the bandage, are connected symbols.

fire likes to act; here it is forced to think. water likes to flow and feel; here it is forced to pause and re-evaluate. we can’t ever just think our way out of something. but if we don’t apply the light of reason to our problems, our solutions are likely to be the next problem we face.

the arrival of new understanding as we travel from the VIII to the IX splits the pack, as it were. the VIII has built a comforting structure of achievement, but is walled in, with no room for growth, and now must face harder terrain.

the IX has two sets of wands – 2+2, and a 4 – a balance of spiritual and material – which is now split by the arrival of the ninth wand, which touches the Roman numeral. the number eight represents a balance of binary integrations built into a complex pattern, symbolised by the eight-pointed star.

but, having achieved a balance of the spiritual in the material, and the material in the spiritual, it’s time for a new lesson – not the balance of the divine and the mundane – but the integration into self, and knowledge of their oneness in the world.

but like anything, even spirituality can become materialistic. the greatest danger is in believing we can ever achieve a spiritual ‘goal’. not only is there no such thing, but the very idea itself is the ultimate deception.

there is nothing to achieve, just this, this now. when we solidify our knowledge into spiritual or religious dogma it becomes a barrier to living in the every-single-second miracle that is existence.

the inner gesture of eight as a number is to approach the world as if it is something that can be mastered. the world cannot be mastered. exhaustion is the only result. the world must be mastered by accepting it for what it is.

only then can the decisions we make – the changes we wish to see in the world – really happen without the battle destroying us in the process.

just as unresolved psychological issues take up a huge amount of our psychic energy – like leaving all your appliances on standby – if our attitude is one of control, we are using most of our energy to contain the world. it’s simply too exhausting to maintain.

but when we align our conscious and unconscious minds – that is when we tap into energy we might never have imagined we possessed. how do we resolve our relationship with the world in this way?

we must accept the world is not ‘mine’ – it is ours. only when you stop trying to control everything will you be able to contain anything.

we must align our goals not with our ambitions, but with our desires. ambition is always focused on an external measure, ‘getting’ something. even the most spiritual of us can become spiritually materialistic after a time. desire is internal and meeting it means everything comes from core. core cannot be exhausted, as ambition can.

but aren’t we all supposed to be relinquishing desire? aren’t we supposed to be letting go? not if letting go is just another way of being in control – another way of being defined by either your dogma or your unconscious mind. you may refuse the world, you may not let it in, but by doing so you simply strengthen your relationship to it, albeit in the negative, but it still defines you.

the point is not to let go, but to let be, to abide. cutting something out of your life doesn’t mean you have transcended it or addressed the reason it showed up in your life in the first place. it’s like saying ‘if I shoot all my teachers then I’ve nothing left to learn’.

it may seem paradoxical, but it is in accepting ourselves that we learn what we need to be doing in this world. when we have become ourselves, authentic decision flows from our core self, and no change is impossible.

with thanks to the decks and designers – the RWS of Pamela Colman Smith with Mary Hanson-Roberts, Chris-Anne's Muse and Lightseer Tarot, RuPaul’s Drag Race Tarot, Manara, Kim Krans's Tarot, Siri Rose’s Cascadia Tarot, Elisa Poggese’s Sensual Wicca Tarot, Nicoletta Ceccoli’s Tarot, Antonella Platano’s Tarot of the 78 Doors, Jack Sephiroth’s Heaven and Earth Tarot, Marco Proietto’s Capobianco Nero Tarot, MJ Cullinane’s Crow Tarot, and Star Spinner Tarot by Trungles.