Man, sometimes life just throws you a curveball, or maybe it’s more like you’re in a car, and you realize you’ve been driving in circles for way too long. That’s kinda how I felt before I pulled the Chariot card, reversed, and everything suddenly started to click into place for me. I wanted to share how that whole thing went down, from feeling totally lost to actually getting myself moving in a new direction.
For a while there, I just felt… stuck. Not unhappy, exactly, but definitely not excited. I was grinding away at a job, doing the same old thing, day in and day out. Pay was decent, people were okay, but deep down, it felt like I was just going through the motions. Like someone else was steering the ship, and I was just along for the ride. I kept telling myself, “This is fine, this is stability,” but my gut kept whispering, “Is this really it?”
One particularly bland Tuesday evening, after staring at my ceiling for what felt like an hour, I just had to do something different. I pulled out my old deck of Tarot cards. I hadn’t touched them in ages, but something in me just felt drawn to them that night. I shuffled them a bunch, cleared my head, and asked, “What do I need to know right now?” I cut the deck, flipped the top card, and there it was: the Chariot, upside down, staring right back at me.
I swear, my stomach dropped a little. I knew what the Chariot usually meant – forward movement, control, victory. But reversed? That hit me hard. It screamed “lack of direction,” “feeling pulled apart,” “control issues,” and “needing to change course.” It was like the universe, through this one card, had just yelled my unspoken thoughts right back at me. I didn’t want to believe it. I even tried to pull another card, thinking maybe it was a fluke, but that darn Chariot Reversed just wouldn’t leave my mind.
For the next few weeks, that image just haunted me. Every time I drove to work, every time I sat at my desk, every time I tried to force myself to feel content, that upside-down Chariot was there. I started really looking at my life. Were my efforts scattered? Was I fighting myself? Was I just sitting in the driver’s seat but letting two different horses drag me in opposite directions? The answer, I realized with a groan, was a resounding “yes.” One part of me wanted the comfort of the familiar, and the other part was desperate for adventure and real purpose. It was a constant internal tug-of-war.
Taking the Reins Back
After a good month of stewing and feeling kind of agitated, I finally decided I couldn’t ignore it anymore. That card wasn’t just a random piece of art; it was a blaring siren telling me to wake up. I needed to actually do something. I couldn’t just keep drifting. So, I started small.
- First, I started talking. I reached out to an old college buddy who had completely switched careers a few years back. I didn’t mention the Tarot, just asked him how he made such a big leap. He told me it was terrifying but ultimately the best thing he ever did. His words weren’t a roadmap, but they were a little nudge that it was possible.
- Then, I started observing. I made a conscious effort to pay attention to what genuinely piqued my interest. Not just what I thought I should be doing, but what made my eyes light up. I found myself devouring articles and videos on sustainable living, digital art, and even small-scale farming – stuff totally unrelated to my day job.
- Next, I started researching. I wasn’t just aimlessly browsing anymore. I looked into actual courses, workshops, and even volunteer opportunities in these new areas. I wasn’t committing to anything, just gathering information, seeing what skills I might need, what the market was like. It felt like I was mapping out potential new routes, checking road conditions.
- And then came the saving. This was a big one. I knew if I was going to make a change, I’d need a safety net. I tightened my belt, cut down on unnecessary spending, and started stashing away every extra dollar. It felt empowering, like I was building my own escape fund.
The turning point wasn’t some grand revelation. It was gradual. After a particularly frustrating project at work, where I felt like I was literally pulling against my team because our visions were so different, I just hit a wall. I went home that day, opened my laptop, and started writing my resignation letter in my head. That Chariot Reversed flashed in my mind, but this time, it felt less like a warning and more like a challenge. Was I going to sit there and let life happen to me, or was I going to grab the reins?
Making the Leap and Finding My Path
Deciding was one thing; actually executing was a whole other beast. I mean, telling your family and friends that you’re leaving a stable job, without a firm plan B, to pursue something totally different, is not for the faint of heart. There was a lot of worry, a lot of “are you sure?” and even some outright “that’s crazy!” But something inside me had shifted. The fear was still there, sure, but it was overshadowed by a strong sense of purpose.
I gave my notice, and the moment I did, a huge weight lifted. It was terrifying, exciting, and utterly liberating. I enrolled in an intensive online program for web design, something that had always vaguely interested me. I spent months holed up, learning, experimenting, failing, and trying again. My days were no longer about punching a clock but about solving problems I actually cared about. There were definitely moments of doubt, especially when my savings started dwindling, but I just kept pushing through, remembering that image of the Chariot Reversed and how much I hated feeling out of control.
Slowly but surely, I started building a portfolio. I took on small freelance gigs for next to nothing, just to get experience. I networked like crazy, connecting with other designers and developers online. It was a hustle, but it was my hustle. I was driving now, making my own decisions, even if the road was a bit bumpy.
And you know what? It worked out. It wasn’t overnight success, not by a long shot. But within a year, I landed a junior position at a small agency that genuinely valued creative problem-solving and flexible work. The money wasn’t what I used to make, but the satisfaction? Priceless. I was building things that excited me, working with people who shared my passion, and every day felt like a step forward, not a circle. That Chariot Reversed wasn’t just a prediction; it was the kick in the pants I needed to stop letting life pull me around and start steering my own course.
