A reading of Kat Black’s “The Magician” card from her Golden Tarot.
The deepest pleasure comes from pulling it off. Putting one’s self into a situation so inescapable, so improbable, that failure seems predestined. And then to succeed! To pull a coin from the air and astonish the crowd. It’s a rush.
So often clients come into my office feeling overwhelmed and exhausted by the demands of life. There’s so much that needs to be done and managed, so many expectations upon us. In corporations, one employee might find themself pulled in eight different directions, at least four of those coming from people who aren’t actually their boss but somehow are able to demand things of their time, and three of those coming from their boss’s boss or the CEO or someone so high up that there’s no way to explain how unrealistic these demands actually are.
In this version of the card, The Magician is surrounded by animals and stands in front of a table with all the weapons of the Tarot represented. He seems quite like a humble stage magician doing a show, trying to entertain these gathered creatures, or perhaps responding to their multiplicity of desires and demands.
One of his hands is wrapped inside his cloak, unable to help much. Is it a deliberate ploy? Look, I can do this one-handed! Or is it part of his trap, unable to admit he’s struggling?
When we go inside and get to know our exhausted parts who are struggling to do so much—to manage all the doctors’ appointments, to finish all the things, to attend to everyone else’s needs and one’s own and never to show them you’re sweating—so often an image like this magician comes to the surface. Sometimes it’s a juggler, or a plate-spinner. It’s a performer doing the impossible for an audience.
Only when it’s our lives, our Magicians may never get to step off-stage. All of their energy goes towards keeping those plates spinning, those balls in the air, those audience members distracted so they see only the coin appearing from midair and not the subtle flicking it from it’s hiding place.
It’s a rush! How many weeks have I felt such pride and self-congratulations when I’ve gotten through a whole lot of tasks and done most of them with success. How often do I like to tell people about my day by listing off everything I’ve done. Celebrate me! Rejoice in my magical powers!
And it’s so, so, so exhausting. Can I keep this up? What will happen if I fail? The Magician may live with the ongoing terror of the moment when one of the plates finally crashes.
When the gathered cheering masses suddenly turn and start to boo and see you as a trickster fraud. They’re not even a real magician!
All the materials of power lay at The Magician’s disposal and yet she forgets in her seeking of approval that she is divine. The symbol of infinity burns over her head, conveying the eternal nature of work and change, as well as her participation in the unfolding of all things. In this card, she does not even touch her tools, instead gesturing to the crowd as though imparting a great lesson.
When you’re being the Magician, it’s easy to see everyone around you as a dupe you need to keep entertained. But in this gesture, there is a way out: to show those who admire you their own power. To renounce the need to be special and indestructible and instead take your place in the community of animals. To share all the burdens and responsibilities you are carrying, and to lay some down if you cannot tend them all.
Honor and gratitude to our Magicians who work so hard to advance our goals and protect us from the contempt, ridicule, and abandonment of others. May they know when it is safe to step off-stage and rest. May they learn what they no longer need to juggle or spin, what’s safe to let fall. May they be surrounded in community.
