I started reading cards years ago because the whole thing felt like a puzzle, but man, those upside-down cards used to drive me completely nuts. They ruined everything. I’d get a beautiful spread, a clear story, and then boom—the Seven of Swords is reversed, and the book says, “Confession,” which makes zero sense with the story I was already telling.
I’m not a scholar, I’m just a guy doing this stuff on my kitchen table, and I needed something that actually felt real. For the first two years, I was reading, I’d honestly just ignore the reversals half the time. I’d pull the card out, look at it, and if it was upside down, I’d just mentally flip it right side up and use the standard meaning. It was lazy, but the reading flowed better than when I tried to jam in whatever opposite meaning the book was spitting out.
The Day I Threw Out the Rules
The confusion eventually got so bad I had to stop. I decided I wasn’t doing another reading until I figured out what the hell an upside-down card actually means in a way that wasn’t just “the opposite.” That never felt right. The card is still the same energy; it’s just presented differently.
I grabbed a new deck, one I hadn’t messed up with my bad habits yet, and I decided to stick only to the Major Arcana for a month. I wasn’t doing full spreads; I was just pulling one card a day for a quick check. My rule for the month was simple: a reversed card is not the opposite meaning; it’s the same energy, but it’s either stuck or it’s gone crazy overboard. That was the simple practical theory I tested.
The first card I really dug into with this new method was The Fool. Everyone knows The Fool upright:
- The Fool Upright: Leaping, starting fresh, trusting your gut, stepping off the cliff because you know the universe has you. It’s the pure potential before the lessons start. No baggage.
If the reverse was the opposite, it would be “Stay put,” or “Be too cautious,” or “You’re a grown-up now.” That’s too wishy-washy for a reading. I wanted instant clarity, man.
The Fool Upside Down: What It Really Does
When I looked at The Fool reversed, I stopped reading the little white book. I just looked at the picture. Upside down, The Fool is falling headfirst, the tiny dog is scratching at the air, the cliff is above his head—it’s a mess. The energy of “taking a leap” isn’t gone; it’s just twisted. It’s a broken jump.
I realized The Fool reversed means one of two things:
1. The Energy is Stuck (Suppressed):
The person knows they need to jump or start over, but they are paralyzed by fear. They are doing everything except taking the step. They are delaying and delaying until the perfect moment, which never comes. The new beginning is right there, but they are glued to the floor. They are refusing to be the Fool.
2. The Energy is Overboard (Recklessness):
This is the one I see more often. They aren’t just leaping; they are sprinting blindly into the void. They are acting like the Fool but in a stupid way, not the courageous way. They have zero plan, zero foresight, and they aren’t trusting the universe—they are just being irresponsible. It’s the difference between a calculated risk and a total disaster. Too much of the pure, unbridled energy of the card.
I did a reading for my sister-in-law’s cousin about a huge move she wanted to make across the country. She pulled The Fool reversed in the “Action I Should Take” spot. If I had said “Delay the move,” she would have been furious. If I had said, “Be cautious,” she would have said, “Duh.”
Instead, I looked at the image. I asked her, “Are you moving because you believe in this new life, or are you running away from your bills and thinking the new town won’t find them?”
She froze. She was doing the second one. That upside-down card told me her “leap” wasn’t a brave new start; it was total, irresponsible avoidance. The jump wasn’t clear; it was broken. It was The Fool energy in absolute overdrive—a reckless escape.
That reading sealed it for me. Now, whenever I see The Fool reversed, or any reversed card, I don’t grab a book. I just ask: Is the pure energy of this card being wasted by fear, or is it being burned out by going too hard?
That’s what the flip-flop means. Not the opposite of the card; it’s the clear sign that the force in the card is off-kilter, out of balance. It’s the same power, but it’s malfunctioning. Instant clarity, man, every time.
