Tarot Review 5.12.25: Swords and Silence
Last week's tarot cards emphasized air, intellect, and self-reflection during a rare interval of quiet astrology.
The stars have been so quiet these last two weeks that I didn’t know what to do with myself. The opposition between Mars and Pluto certainly had enough spice for lingering mouth burn, considering it took chill Pope and several poor souls in Vancouver B.C. out with it, but the stillness and silence that followed was uncanny. Unnerving.
My fiery little ruler didn’t leave me bereft; in fact, right after he faced off with Hades I developed a truly magnificent bacterial sinus infection, one with headaches that pounded violently enough to register on Richter’s scale. I couldn’t write or read - my feverish self either draped across the couch like a hairless sloth or laying on the floor beneath a window so I could narrow my eyes at the blue skies and spun sugar clouds while a mellow breeze occasionally pressed itself through the screen door. Why, why, why, whenever the weather turns genuinely paradisiacal, I am struck with some debilitating, gooey virus is a mystery, but it never fails. It’s as though the sun knows I hate him.
Antibiotics, hot tea, and tarot were the only things that soothed me. (Well, that and a strain recommendation from my lovely bud tender called, “Blood Pheasant”, which confirms a long running suspicion that I give off animal sacrifice vibes.)
I couldn’t focus my mind in any linear way thanks to the pulsating tides of bacteria in my face, but my body was also manic and twitchy. When my friend brought me the gift of a new tarot deck, it was the perfect answer to the question my cells were bleating at me; when, when, WHEN are we going to feel better? Why is the world horrible? Is J.D. Vance the last of the four horsemen, and if so, is he responsible for this fucking plague that’s chewing its way through my sinus cavities?
Thanks to a new, expressive deck, I ceased my useless moaning and got down to shuffling. It’s easy, as a professional reader, to let your practice become one-sided; only reading for others and always pointing the archetypal lens outward instead of inward. Not only did I subject myself to uncomfortable divination, I also took a deeper look at the tarot cards as they related to our transiting moon and a few of the blink-and-you’ll-miss-them minor aspects in the sky. Sometimes we learn more using the cards to look back than we do asking them to divine the future.
Monday, 5.5.25
A prism of emotional angst provides the backdrop to this Nine of Swords, indicating gradients of intense feeling. The figure in the foreground clutches their face (sinuses?) in both hands as they slump on a stool, exhaustion evident in the hunch of their back and the slouch of their leotard. It’s as though we can see what they see behind scrunched eyes; a red miasma of rage and despair, held captive at the business end of all nine swords.
The major astrological aspect perfecting on this day was a sextile between Mercury and Jupiter, which reflects a burbling philosophical debate that expands beyond the original participants. There is a moral question that grows past the borders of one incident and spreads, both interpersonally and collectively. Trump tariffs continued to suck up the airwaves, undoubtedly contributing to the anxiety of this pull, often referred to as ‘the nightmare card.’ Trump, a nightmare?! Say it isn’t so. The orange menace himself leaned into his Gemini crazy and threatened 100% tariffs on foreign films, jittering the nerves of film brokers and distributers across the globe.
Material security, or lack thereof, is often the goal when working with green aventurine. This gentle heart chakra crystal embodies Venusian abundance and works nicely with the lucky principles of Jupiter. Unfortunately, Jupiter’s expansion and Mercury’s blabbermouth tendencies can apply to well-meaning citizens and spoiled despots equally, as they seem to have done with the Nine of Swords on this day. All is not lost, despite this card’s alignment with the combative, destructive elements of Gemini; there is relief in the cooler colors above our despairing head, if only we could escape our negative thought loop. (Difficult in 2025, to be sure.) It may be that this figure is taking incendiary speech at face value and letting it consume them - reacting primally instead of logically. Sure enough, once media outlets reported on the mere possibility of intellectual tariffs, scholars mostly rebutted the idea as lawless and impossible, calming markets and movie theater chains in one fell swoop.
Tuesday, 5.6.25
“Out of the eater came something to eat, out of the strong came something sweet…”
Judges 14:14
The pink skull of an animal blooms shortly after death in this Three of Pills (pentacles) card, but it is the suspicious, cross labelled cup that draws attention. Is it medicine, fertilizer, or poison? What exactly happened to this prosperous roadkill? Three of Pentacles is symbolic of Capricorn, and if there were an archetype not only willing, but excited to work themselves to death, it is the sea goat of the zodiac. Like Scorpio, Capricorn can become a slave to their obsessions, which typically involve prestige, money, and order; material gain at any cost. Venus and Pluto engaged in sextile on the same day as this tarot pull, so the planet of value and pleasure was lending a helping hand to our planet of obsession, shadows, and crime. Interestingly, money markets plunged again on this day due to tariff madness and an underwhelming jobs report, while mortgage rates and pricing on essential goods continued to rise. Capitalism is certainly killing many of us whilst enriching the few.
Smoky quartz is a strong detoxifier and cleanser; like dandelion coffee in rock form. The story being told in both card and crystal feels like a warning and a plea - we are succumbing to a poison disguised as medicine, and our resulting deaths are a rich resource for the ruling class. If we cease consuming the poison and commit to a serious detox regime, we might be able to slow our decomposition. Whether or not the will exists to do such a thing remains to be seen.
Wednesday, 5.7.25
Four of Cups doesn’t know what it wants, and perhaps we don’t either. Our proxy, the long-necked skeleton at the center of it all, faces the emptiness of the west while steadfastly ignoring the turtles pointing to both north and south; the animal kingdom’s version of a broken compass. This card represents the final ten days of Cancer season, and it speaks to the kind of petulant laziness people often manifest in mid-July, when it gets hot enough to make blurry, squiggly lines on the distant horizon. We think we have all the time in the world to fuck around, but before we know it school is in session and tree leaves are turning gold.
In essence, we aren’t giving the current moment the urgency or attention it deserves, and we’re missing opportunities because of it, likely involving relationships. We might be distracted by petty shit, but we might also be taking a dwindling timeframe for granted, thinking we have all the space in the world despite external messaging that claims otherwise. We’ve deluded ourselves into thinking we can remain in stasis forever, but the universe has never worked that way.
Aquamarine is a powerful dream crystal that also promotes tranquility, and it could shake us out of our apathy to reveal subconscious desires. Perhaps the calm of aquamarine can help us to buck up and take action, especially if anxiety is the reason for our paralysis. The old, irritating adage remains true; deciding not to decide is still a decision…it’s just a cowardly way to make one.
Thursday, 5.8.25
The Magician is a crow at the beginning of an important ascension; a climb heaven ward with all of his resources on a quest for information and adventure. Like the messenger planet that is his correspondence, The Magician moves quickly, gathering as much data and experience that time will allow so he can soar to the top of existence and release hard won knowledge for the masses, dusting people with intelligence like fertilizer for crops. He embodies the element of air, after all, as does today’s waxing Libra moon.
This is a card that says, like Barack Obama, yes we can. With the right attitude and a willingness to use any tool we come across, we are capable of achieving our wildest dreams. The crow clutches a wand, representing the bravery we need to act on desire. The velocity of his ascent carries the remaining elements necessary to thrive in the earthly realm; a sword that embodies the sharpness of intellect, a coin that infuses life with comfort and worldly security, and a cup full of feelings like love and sorrow, without which a successful life is barely worth pursuing.
The complimentary rose quartz pull emphasizes compassion and generosity as necessary companions in the pursuit of knowledge and success, a notion warmly embodied beneath today’s Libra moon. The sign of the scales is the equalizer of the zodiac, encouraging the middle path, compromise, and circumspection in difficult moments. This divination tells us to be capable, sure. It also tells us to be kind.
Friday, 5.9.25
Catholic doctrine showcases a deep understanding of the human condition via belief in demonic possession and its prescribed cure - prolonged assault by men of god which may or may not result in the death of the possessed. No matter, says the church; at least the soul will be saved, even if the body is not. Virtuous pain, the kind achieved through true death over fictional damnation, is woven into every centimeter of Abrahamic religion and ensures that even when we beat the devils back and win, we don’t really win.
Five of Swords tells us something very similar, illustrating how each shard embedded in the characters’s skin guarantees lasting scars, regardless of whether or not the opponent flees her body. She’ll always know he was there, and that knowledge alters her character permanently. Any victory is bittersweet and promises lasting damage. In reverse, this card tells us that we might have reached reconciliation after a difficult conflict, but the damage of the experience will never be erased. Neither victory nor defeat feel ‘good’ when we draw the Five of Swords. Headlines today touting the withdrawal of one perverse, U.S. administration nominee only to be swapped with a more craven, outlandish personality than the first punctuate the gist of this minor arcana rather nicely. Even when we win, we don’t really win.
The crystal in this photo, sardonyx, resembles the nougat and chocolate layers of a half eaten sweet and has historical significance among the warrior classes from ancient Assyria all the way through to the Roman Empire. The orangey red in sardonyx is similar to the glare cast by Mars in the night sky, and soldiers often went into battle adorned with sardonyx pendant and rings carved to resemble the war god himself. Courage and clarity were thought to be conferred to the wearer of this stone, virtues that provide benefit in moments of reconciliation as well as the moments of strife that precede it. War rarely ends with one clean, fast decision; it’s usually a series of messy steps forward and backward until a muddy, compromised peace prevails.
Saturday, 5.10.25
The Hanged Man has become one with a mossy tree, dreaming fruitful, verdant dreams that we see symbolized here in hanging ferns and lush blossoms. He may seem idle, but the vegetation surrounding him hints at subconscious creativity; dreams that may soon be in full bloom.
Neptune is the modern ruler of this major arcana, but he also carries a whiff of Scorpio about him, positioned as he is between Justice and Death, which lines up nicely with today’s Scorpio moon. A conjunction of our most transformative zodiac sign with our weirdest, murkiest planet makes the meaning of The Hanged man clear; when he shows up, we are exploring our buried, Jungian psyche with gusto behind a facade of deathly stillness. Like Neptune, we are the unmarred surface of a glassy ocean, whose dark trenches teem with manic ideas and alien life. This card arrives at times when we must release control and let our environment have its way with us. Just as Odin hanged himself from Yggdrasil to die and be reborn with new wisdom, we will find ourselves transformed after our time in the tree.
Moss agate matches the natural beauty surrounding this version of The Hanged Man and reminds us that we embody paradox - we often rediscover our grounded, practical selves after periods of involuntary suspension, and radical acceptance is most easily embraced after a drastic shift in perspective. Like looking at everything upside-down, for instance.
Sunday, 5.11.25
Children and families are a mainstay of Six of Cups imagery because of their clear association with nostalgia, formative relationships, and universal compassion. Only a monster would withhold compassion for children, in most instances. Here, we see the youth of a cybernetic future exchanging emotions in the form of valuable vegetation; holdovers from a bygone era of trees and breathable air. The cups are battered pots, passed reverently between individuals as an act of vulnerability. Trust is the garden bed from which love grows, or in this instance, the handfuls of dirt. Despite its weird, capitalist, greeting card company roots, many people use Mother’s Day to spend time with family and get back to the foundation of who they are.
This card corresponds to the sun in Scorpio, which might infer from the sunflowers in various Six of Cups illustrations. The transformative nature of the zodiac’s phoenix is evident in the act of exchange; we are all transformed by our relationships, whether we wish to be or not. Today’s moon in Scorpio is one of particular power, waxing to fullness in just twelve hours toward an opposition with the sun and Uranus, a planet that loves to transform through total dismantlement. We weren’t all built by loving families, after all - some of us could only find our whole selves after following Uranus’ lead and dismantling toxic relationships.
Green fluorite is a stone of abundance and clarity, and it helps us recognize the true value of an exchange, as most green, heart chakra stones will. It’s almost as if the fluorite could help us, the teeny figure in the background of this card, to get a clear view of the fertile, emotional transaction going on in the illustration’s foreground. Whether it is a greeting or a parting of ways depends on the circumstances; both can be necessary and profound.