Pile 1 – Six of Wands

The one thing you finally should take seriously about yourself is your own victories.

The Six of Wands is one of the happiest cards in the Tarot. But somehow I don’t think you’ve allowed yourself to experience it very often.

When I look at this card, I see somebody who reaches a goal, smiles for about five minutes, and then immediately starts thinking about the next one.

You finish the project. “Well, I was supposed to.”

You pass the exam. “Other people did too.”

You get the promotion. “I probably just got lucky.”

You build something you’re genuinely proud of. “It could have been better.”

It’s almost as though every achievement immediately becomes ordinary in your own eyes. Meanwhile, if somebody else accomplished exactly the same thing, you’d probably be the first person cheering them on.

You know how to celebrate other people’s victories. Your own somehow never seem quite big enough.

The Six of Wands asks, “What if they already are?”

I also have the feeling you’ve become so focused on climbing the next mountain that you’ve forgotten to turn around and look at how many you’ve already climbed.

Think about the version of yourself from five years ago. Ten years ago. Would that person recognize everything you’ve managed to overcome? Or would they be amazed by how far you’ve come?

Sometimes we become so used to carrying our own achievements that we stop noticing how heavy they once seemed.

The impossible quietly becomes normal. The extraordinary becomes expected. And before long, we’re living a life that an earlier version of ourselves once dreamed about, while convincing ourselves we’ve done nothing special.

The Six of Wands is asking you to stop doing that. Your heart deserves recognition too.

You’re allowed to finish something and simply feel proud. You’re allowed to pause before running toward the next goal. You’re allowed to celebrate. To rest. To let yourself enjoy what you’ve worked so hard to build.

Success doesn’t become less meaningful because you achieved it. If anything, it becomes more meaningful. Perhaps that’s the truth you’re finally ready to take seriously. Not that you’re perfect. Not that you’ve reached the end of your journey. Simply that you’ve accomplished far more than you’ve been willing to admit.

And maybe it’s time to stop treating every victory as though it’s chores you simply crossed out on your daily to do list. Some milestones deserve a celebration. One of them might be the person you’ve quietly become. 🏆🤍

Pile 2 – Seven of Swords

I feel like what you need to finally take seriously about yourself is your ability to protect your own interests.

The Seven of Swords has one of the most misunderstood reputations in the Tarot. People often reduce it to dishonesty. When I look at this card, I see something much more ordinary. I see someone who’s been trying very hard to always do the right thing. To always be fair. To always be honest. To always be helpful. Those are beautiful qualities. The question is… Have you quietly started expecting yourself to be a saint? Because life doesn’t ask that of anyone.

Imagine the neighbour who rings your doorbell every weekend because they need “just one small favour.” At first, you’re happy to help. Then the favours become an expectation instead of an exception. One afternoon, you hear the doorbell. You stay quiet. Maybe later you say you were in the shower. Maybe you tell them you’ve already made plans. Not because you’re cruel. Because your afternoon belongs to you too. That’s not being a bad person. That’s protecting your time.

The thing is that people who care deeply about doing the right thing often hold themselves to impossible standards. They feel guilty for saying no. Guilty for changing their mind. Guilty for keeping parts of their lives private. Guilty for choosing peace over pleasing everyone else.

The Seven of Swords asks, “Who decided you always have to take the hardest path?”

Sometimes the wisest decision isn’t the most obvious one. Sometimes you quietly leave the argument instead of proving your point. Sometimes you don’t explain yourself for the tenth time. Sometimes you keep your plans to yourself until they’re ready. Sometimes you choose not to volunteer for one more responsibility simply because you already have enough. That isn’t selfish. It’s sustainable.

I also have the feeling you’re finally ready to stop believing that being a good person means making yourself endlessly available. Those two things have never been the same. You can be kind and still have boundaries. You can be honest without revealing every thought that crosses your mind. You can choose your own peace without becoming uncaring.

Perhaps that’s the truth you’ve been minimizing for too long. You don’t have to earn your worth by being endlessly accommodating. You don’t have to win a medal for self-sacrifice.

Life is rarely lived in perfect black and white. Most of it unfolds in thoughtful shades of grey, where wisdom isn’t about being flawless. It’s about knowing when to give… and when to keep something back for yourself.

I have a feeling you’re finally ready to trust that instinct. Because protecting your own energy doesn’t make you less good. It simply makes you human. 🦊🤍

Pile 3 – Ten of Swords

The one thing you should finally be ready to take seriously about yourself is your ability to let something end.

The Ten of Swords is a difficult card. Because it speaks about endings that have already happened.

When I look at this card, I don’t think you’re someone who gives up easily. In fact… I think you hold on far longer than most people would.

You keep trying to save the relationship that’s been fading for years. You keep fighting for the friendship where you’re the only one reaching out. You keep pouring energy into the project that’s quietly telling you it has reached the end of its journey. You keep standing in battles that have already been decided. Not because you’re naïve. Because you believe that if you just try a little harder, or try a little longer, perhaps one more conversation, one more effort, one more chance will finally change everything.

Sometimes that’s admirable. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking. Because while you’re giving everything to something that’s already over, life keeps opening new doors somewhere else. And you don’t see them. Because you’re still facing the door that’s already closed.

The Ten of Swords asks, “What are you missing while you’re trying to revive something that’s already finished?” That’s a painful question. But it can also become an incredibly freeing one.

I also have the feeling you don’t like admitting defeat because it feels as though all the time, love, and energy you invested would suddenly have been wasted. But that’s a lie you tell yourself. Nothing you’ve lived through disappears simply because the story ended. You still learned. You still loved. You still grew. You still became the person you are today. The ending doesn’t erase the journey. It completes it.

Perhaps that’s the truth you’re finally ready to take seriously. Not every chapter is meant to become your whole book. Some chapters exist to teach you something before making room for the next one.

The Ten of Swords reminds us that there is courage in persistence.

But there is another kind of courage that often goes unnoticed. The courage to say, “This chapter has given me everything it could.”, “It’s time to put the book down.” Not because you failed. Because you’ve finally accepted that your energy belongs in places where something can still grow. And I have a feeling life has been patiently waiting for that moment. Not to punish you for letting go. To finally introduce you to everything you couldn’t see while you were still trying to breathe life into what had already reached its ending.

Sometimes the bravest thing you can do isn’t fighting one more battle. It’s turning around… and walking toward the life that’s been waiting for you all along. 🤍