King of Swords: Beyond the Throne

I reflect often on the ways that we use the natural world to prop up our human self-centredness. Even in ecotherapy, the default can be for us to take every encounter with Nature as a symbol that represents some drama in our human lives. For example, the broken bough of a tree might make us think of how broken we feel at the moment, rather than wondering how things are for the actual tree, or what actually happened to it.

We do this with Tarot, too. In some ways, it’s a part of the deal – we are reading symbols, and so we apply what we encounter metaphorically. That’s the art of reading and I love it! But, as I often write, it doesn’t matter what the intention behind an image is, or what the artist/designer wanted to suggest when a symbol was included on a card. It’s what we see in the moment that matters. It’s one of the reasons that I love the Tarot de Marseille; we can project all we like, and we don’t know who created that pattern. It came with no guidebooks (except, maybe, how to play games with it) and we can only guess at the intentions behind the symbols. This, for me, makes the whole process liberating and one in which I can truly get to the matter with my intuition.

In this spirit, I (perhaps ironically) would like to explore the Waite-Smith version of the King of Swords, exploring the butterflies (carved into his throne) and the two soaring birds that are present in the background.

Above: King of Swords from the Waite-Smith Tarot

I recall an ecotherapy client who had a brilliant sense of humour; she cracked me up. Like me, she hadn’t always had a strong connection with Nature in her adult life. Coming to ecotherapy was an experiment for her to improve her relationship with life and with her mental health (it worked). I remember us watching a butterfly together in a city park once, really tuning into the way that it flew, its path and its movement. She started laughing, as she so often would, and said something like, ‘They’re not very good at flying are they? Look at it! It hasn’t got a clue what it’s doing, has it?’

I’ve never been able to look at butterflies in the same way again after that. She hit the nail on the head! Notice a butterfly next time you see one in flight, its delightful heaviness, its clumsiness. If you can resist making the experience about your own inadequacies (we’re not working symbolically today, remember), you might just delight in watching Nature doing its own thing, perfectly and imperfectly at once. Watching a butterfly move feels a bit like watching a child ride a bike for the first time without the stabilisers. _Wooaaahhhh!_ What might it be like to fly, after knowing a life where you couldn’t? How does it feel to crawl out of the chrysalis, that deep state, and take to the skies? I can’t imagine the lightness of it, or the strangeness.

The two black birds in the background of the Waite-Smith card are an altogether different proposition. This is another kind of flight, another realm of movement. That is mastery up there. Imagine, to be so high up in that blue, and just soaring like that. To spread your wings and not even have to exert energy, to just float on a strong wind, to hang in the sky like a puppet, looking down at the vast world below without fear of falling, enjoying this most liberating of gifts from Nature.

Have you ever seen a bird enjoying flight like this? I recall now a particular herring gull at Prestonpans beach in East Lothian, Scotland. At the time, I lived in the nearby town of Musselburgh, and I had developed a love for gulls which seems rare in Scotland (I won’t even start on how maligned they are….). Such intelligent animals, and so full of character. Anyway, there was this moment on a really windy day when I was out walking Euro on the sand. The gull flew low in the winds and hovered just above my head. Its white wings were fully spread and it seemed to have no aims … no need for food nor company … it just floated, with this serene look in its eyes.

There was no doubt in my mind that this creature was just enjoying the moment of its being, the gift of flight, the power of air. There was no effort for the bird in that moment, no need to flap its wings to stay afloat. The strong winds did all of the work for it, as the bird rode it like a kite. The sea lapped at my feet, I could smell the salt of the water, and Euro was running around with a stick in his mouth. And here I was, learning something about how to live from this incredible gull who just floated, floated, so peacefully on the winds, seemingly without a care in the world.

Oh cheer up, you miserable sod! The King of Swords from the Tarot de Marseille-Waite. (Note that there are only birds and no butterflies in this card which is heavily inspired by the Waite-Smith version.)

Sometimes, perhaps, pulling this card in the Waite-Smith Tarot (or one of the thousands of Tarot decks inspired by it) is just asking you to go and spend some time appreciating the mastery of a creature in flight. Forget yourself, forget the man in his throne. Look a little bit further than your own mind, beyond the temptation to make the card all about your inner life. Come out of yourself. Yes, yes, we all know that Tarot is symbolism, all about us, I get it. But sometimes, we might want to stop being that self-absorbed king on his high throne, absorbed in his own mastery and cleverness. We might prefer turn around and watch those amazing creatures hidden in plain sight in the sky. The ability to notice and appreciate these miraculous creatures is not forever … and that king doesn’t look particularly happy in his current position, does he? 

That’s all for now, friends. Thank you for being here – and please check out my Therapeutic Tarot Sessions and my courses embracing Tarot and Nature if you’d like us to work together. You can also sign up for the Tarot Blog newsletter (different to my main newsletter) below to receive occasional email updates (roughly monthly) with the latest posts.

Smiles from Scotland,

Stephen