Why is that so hard to admit?
In my tarot deck, one of the cards that speaks to me so much I almost had it done as a tattoo is the Princess of Swords. First off, a lot of decks don't have a Princess, they have King, Queen, Prince and Page (or Knight), my deck has Prince & Princess, which makes more sense to me as a set with K&Q, besides being more balanced gender-wise.
Anyway, the significance of the Princess of Swords in my deck is "control". She is kneeling upright in a field, with stormy clouds behind her, holding a sword up in front of her face, holding it by the hilt, keeping it upright with both hands, the sword seems to be creating a bright rift in the storm clouds above her, as though she is using it to gather or dispel the storm (I can never decide which). You don't see her face, just her long hair flowing out from the center line, like everything else in the image. The trees behind her are bowed sideways, their branches whipping about in the wind. Her spine and the sword make a strong line up the center, from which everything flows outwards. I feel her fighting to keep that upright line, feel the tension in her legs as she kneels, the strength in her shoulders as her arms reach to hold the pose and keep the sword upright. Active, engaged muscles, not just tightened and cramped. Everything in her body is reaching and focused towards the tip of the sword, channeling her energy into whatever spell she is casting (or force she is fighting).
For a long time I have been convinced that this card means so much to me because it is what I seek. Control over my life, emotions, surroundings, destiny. Over the past few days it has begun to dawn on me that this card means so much to me, not because it is what I need, but because it is what I need to let go of. What I am most afraid to give up. Even though I know it is an illusion.
1 comment:
We're ALL flawed human beings. Some of them just hide it better.
That image really appeals to me too - though whenever I'm on top of a hill and it's really windy, I almost want the wind to carry me away. That's when I envy seagulls! It must be great just to be able to hurl yourself into the wind and let it throw you around, knowing you won't fall.
Then I have to go home and my ears ring from the wind and my hair is a total pain to disentangle. Everything comes at a cost!
Here's to balancing the need for control and the need to let go...
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