We sat close, sinking into your mattress, pouring over the spread. Plants and frames adorned your wall around a large circular mirror. If I glanced up I could see see us in the dimming light of a summer sunset soaring through your window. It was the first reading you ever gave me. I felt the weight of my mind dropping through my chest as you explained the shift from light to dark that was so apparent in the cards. It started with forgiveness and ended in destruction. Or so I thought the story went. When the Ten of Swords appeared as the final outcome, you breathed a subtle sigh of relief and greeted it like an old friend.

The suit of swords addresses the ever-challenging aspects of the element air. A gusty whirlwind of cold and cool. Sometimes clever, often confused. The sharpest tool in the shed and I wouldn’t want to be on its bad side. Tens mark endings. The culminating and often overcrowded quality of each suit. Thus, the Ten of Swords illustrates what happens when we overuse our intellect. When we replay the story of what might happen again and again in our minds until the story plays itself. I’ll give you a hint – it rarely goes the way we think.

This card is no bullshit. Honest, unforgiving, and a welcome sign that it’s not as bad as you think. Today, when I see the Ten, we share a laugh. This week, pay attention to the stories you’re hearing, telling, living, both in your head and irl. When you notice you’re slipping into that tempestuous tornado, seek the eye of the storm. Find it in reality. You said “it’s dark, but it doesn’t feel like the end.” It wasn’t the end, I did overthink it, and nothing went the way I thought I wanted it to. In hindsight, everything is infinitely better than anything I could’ve dreamt. You might pull yourself into the dark this week. The Ten of Swords offers an escape route. It is the friend that grabs your arm and drags you away from the story towards the bright burning light of the present moment.