on gifts as responsibilities: the Wheel of Fortune and the Tens in Tarot
This post was originally published on Patreon on August 20, 2019, and has been partially updated to reflect the current space weather.
“If I want this to happen, I have to do it." - Laura Campagna, in private conversation (shared with permission)
The other day, my Pagan Otherworlds gave me two cards at once: the Wheel of Fortune and the Ten of Wands. I’d already been thinking quite a bit about how the good luck of being born with an innate talent of some kind also gives you the responsibility to cultivate that talent into a skill.
As you may already know, the Major Arcana and Minor Arcana pips (pips = the numbered cards) of the tarot are related to each other numerologically. The Wheel of Fortune, as card 10 of the Majors, has an obvious relationship with all of the Tens across the four minor suits. Less obviously, the Wheel also relates to the Magician and all of the Aces, and, in my view, to Justice, (but that’s a conversation for another day).
The Tens are culmination points within the Minor Arcana, in accordance with their respective suits. A quick example breakdown:
Ten of Cups: emotional fulfillment
Ten of Wands: creative burden
Ten of Swords: mental destruction
Ten of Pentacles: legacy-leaving success
Since every tarot card is a glimpse into archetype, every card has an infinite array of meanings, so those keywords are some level of insufficient but functional for what I want to talk about here.
What I want to talk about is the responsibility that comes with luck, privilege, blessings, whatever you want to call it.
The Wheel of Fortune can be a solid reminder that key aspects of our basic circumstances are provided just as much -- if not more -- by chance as they are by personal effort. It reminds us that the specifics of where & when we were born, into what family, into what socioeconomic class, into which race or ethnicity, into what era of humanity, and so forth -- all of those things are beyond our conscious control as humans. Whether or not the artworks or books we create are created at a time that is ready to receive them is a matter of luck, not effort. Whether or not we hatch in a nest that will be able to deeply nourish our minds, our bodies, or our spirits is a cosmic dice roll.
Whether or not you believe that “chance” is some form of predestiny, with whatever framework of moralism that predestiny might carry, the fact remains that within our conscious human consensus reality, the child born to a billionaire did not consciously choose that parent any more than the child in a cage at the US/Mexico border consciously chose to be illegally incarcerated by the United States government. The Wheel turns.
Understanding that a large portion of our lived circumstances are beyond our personal control can be a devastating realization. The sensation of the Ten of Swords can appear when this happens -- a betrayal of capacity, of agency, of the ability to participate directly in what & who happens to us when, and how that happening occurs. Is it not the ultimate betrayal to believe that one is a free agent, only to learn that a wide network of other influences have been pulling strings all along?
When we consider the Ten of Pentacles as a card of inheritance, the devastation of the Ten of Swords can begin to be contextualized. We are not completely, utterly unique beings devoid of ancestry. We are products, to a very large extent, of where we were raised, by whom, within what value system(s) whether those values were explicitly stated or implicitly embedded in our hearts/minds/bodies. And that inheritance isn’t restricted to the family that raised us -- it extends into the culture that raised us and its ideas of worth, value, success, and transgression. That entire context? Chance, fate, “destiny”. The Wheel turns.
Seeing more closely how globally influential our social context is on us as individuals, we might start to have an inkling that we can participate in influencing that context in turn, even in small ways. As we investigate this, and as we investigate how others’ contexts influence their lives in turn, we can start to see those things that support us as well as those things that prevent us from full agency.
If one did not consciously choose to be born into wealth and race-based privilege, but one can consciously see that one was born into such things nonetheless, how might that shift how one perceives others who live in impoverished marginalization within the same society? Chance, yes, but can aspects of the context be changed? Can the overflowing care of the Ten of Cups make an appearance? How might such a perspective transform privilege into responsibility?
If one can understand that not everyone was born with the same latent talents, how does that alter how one perceives one’s own talent as a gift to be honored? How does that shift “oh, it’s always been easy for me” to “it’s my job to cultivate this as deeply as I am able” (Ten of Wands)? And as it’s cultivated, can that talent/skill be understood as something in need of humble sharing with the world (Ten of Cups)? As something that provides its own fulfillment? As something that leaves its own legacy (Ten of Pentacles)?
When I first wrote this piece, back in 2019, Saturn was at the half-way point of its Earth/Pentacles sign of Capricorn. Mars was just a few days into the Earth sign Virgo, working to create a supportive trine aspect with Saturn. Venus was about to enter Virgo, dancing towards that same supportive trine to Saturn that Mars was currently making.
Now, as I update this in September 2022, Saturn is in Aquarius; Mars is in Gemini; Mercury is retrograde in Libra, with Venus in Virgo. Eerily, what I wrote back in 2019 about the space weather then has its own relevance now:
Saturn wants us to be disciplined, responsible, dedicated, boundaried, mature, and stable. Mars wants to get shit done. Venus wants to care for, to unify, to beautify. If we can get past the nightmarish aspects of living in a world where we have far less circumstantial control than we might wish, we can open our eyes and hands and hearts to the very real opportunity of nudging the Wheel towards disciplined, beautiful, motivated love, with an aim of leaving behind a legacy of flourishing rather than a wasteland of fear. The Wheel turns; can we endeavor to help it do so towards grace rather than grief?
Accounting for now’s space weather, I would add:
How do we do it together?
Look at your talents. Look at your circumstantial blessings. These are your prima materia, the tools on the Magician’s table, the Aces waiting to grow into Tens. Will you use your gifts wisely? Will you understand your place in a web far larger and more complex than any of us can truly fathom? Or will you let anxiety keep you stymied? Saturn in Aquarius wants to know.