Two of Swords
What the card of weighing the odds can teach us about the nature of choice
The most common fatigue I face doesn’t come from sore muscles or strained eyes. I often wish I could put several miles into a day, a more honest form of tiredness. Instead, it’s a mental exhaustion.
Pick this, not that.
Choose this, not that.
Decide, now.
What comes naturally to me is to use my mind. To make a list, Pros and Cons, to find the priorities, to find most efficient way forward. There are some decisions that can be resolved this way. But the older I get, the more the lines seem to blur. The choice isn’t black and white, but gray and gray. Do you ever feel this way too? That you’re required to make major decisions, but you only have 10% of the information? That a huge fog is hovering over the horizon, blinding you from seeing ahead? Are there dangerous rocks and turbulent waters, or a calm, beckoning shore?
The Two of Swords is a card of decisions, of using everything at your disposal to try to navigate this complicated world. She is blindfolded, and those turbulent waters and craggy rocks suggest the decision isn’t as simple as it may seem. She can’t use what’s in front of her, what’s obvious. The moon symbolizes her intuition. She should trust it to move forward and finally make her choice.
When I draw this card, I try to check in with all my senses. Not just my mind, but my gut, too. It’s tricky business. You can’t discount your past experiences, and how they inform you, but you can’t let that cloud your senses, either. You have to take in the new environment, the new players, and the different choices made. And the conditions are always changing.
The only constant is change.
When I draw this card, I slow down. I try to look at the situation differently. I’ll bring a trusted confidant in, to shed some light on a different perspective I probably don’t have. And I don’t rush. That's hard. When did I get so enraptured with the idea that a faster decision is a better one? It’s silly, but a hard impulse to shake.
Some seasons are busier than others. Some inevitably resulted in many choices, all at once. During these seasons, I try to lessen my load. Make time for quieter afternoons, longer hikes, and time with my silly chickens. The tiredness is real, and the soul deserves rest.
Make sure you’re resting, too.
