It’s easy to pull the Magician card and feel content. More often than not, the fashionable robed figure conveys a sturdiness. There’s a table in the card, after all. Newbies and advanced readers of cards don’t seem to mind his appearance in a reading. But I feel different.
I kinda hate his smug little face.
You see, the Magician has it all figured out. Those little icons he’s holding, and resting on his table? The chalice, the wand, the knife & coins? He’s got all the archetypal energy on lock. Connection to creativity? Check. Elevated emotional intelligence? Check. Discernment and earthly resources, check, check, check. When he shows up in a reading, he’s not saying you’re gonna pull a rabbit out of hat and solve all your problems.
He’s actually saying, dude, you gotta balance it all out.
Because here’s the thing. Here’s the clincher. We spend a lot of time bemoaning our situation, listing all the ways our environment isn’t conducive to us succeeding, and how if some external forces were eliminated, we could absolutely succeed. If only I had more time to write, as we scroll on TikTok every evening. If only I had more time to work out, as we opt for couch instead of hiking trail. If only I could meet someone fun, as we pop in earbuds and hide behind our phone screens in public.
If you laid out your life on that little table, what would be lacking? What would be overflowing? If you had tons of coins but no creativity, do you think you could stop and smell the roses? If you had all this judgement, all this sharp mental energy, how could you find some compassion for that poor empty chalice?
Now you see why that smug little bastard gets on my nerves. When he shows up, it’s time to stop, assess, and make changes. Because no one is going to balance out that table. That smug little bastard, in the end, is actually me. Is actually you.
Only you can resolve what’s happened, and what’s coming to you.