So, you know how sometimes you just feel like you’re spinning your wheels? That’s exactly where I was a few months back. Just stuck, you know? Not moving forward on a couple of pretty big things that needed sorting out. Like, I knew what I should do, but actually doing it felt like trying to push a boulder uphill with a spoon. Total inertia.
I’m usually pretty chill with my tarot, not super rigid or anything, but I figured, ‘Why not?’ I was feeling a bit helpless, so I reached for the deck one evening, just looking for some kind of nudge, some kind of clarity. I shuffled, thought about the general mess I was in, and pulled a single card for ‘what needs my attention right now.’ And BAM, there it was: The King of Swords, staring right back at me from the table.
My first thought? ‘Uh oh.’ This guy ain’t messing around. He’s all about clarity, truth, making tough calls, sharp intellect. And frankly, those tough calls were exactly what I was trying my absolute best to avoid. My gut just sort of clenched, like, “Okay, Universe, I hear you, and I don’t like it.” I really wanted a nice, gentle card, maybe some Six of Cups nostalgia or a comforting Ten of Pentacles. Nope. Got the dude with the big sword and the serious face.
I grabbed my little book, skimmed a couple of sites on my phone. Everyone was saying the same thing: intellect, truth, judgment, discipline. Being fair, being objective, cutting through the emotional fog. And I was like, ‘Yeah, yeah, I know I need to be all that.’ But knowing and doing are two different things entirely, right? Knowing is easy. Action is the beast.
See, I had this one big project at work, a real messy client situation that just wasn’t getting resolved because everyone, including me, was just dancing around the actual problems. Nobody wanted to be the bad guy, nobody wanted to say “no” or “this isn’t working.” So it just festered. And then at home, there was this thing with a family member, a real tricky boundary I needed to set. For ages, I’d just let it slide, making excuses for them, for myself, for the sake of ‘peace.’ But it wasn’t peace; it was resentment building up. Both situations were just draining me, like a slow leak in a tire.
The King of Swords just kept popping into my head after that. It wasn’t like a physical presence, but more like a thought pattern, a nagging voice. It was like he was giving me this look, that intense, no-nonsense gaze, like ‘Are you gonna sit there and whine, or are you gonna think and act? Are you going to be an adult or just let things drift?’ It wasn’t about being mean or aggressive, which is sometimes how people see the Swords suit. No, this was about cutting through the BS. Getting to the core truth of things. Applying logic and reason, even when my emotions wanted to just hide under the covers.
So, I decided to tackle the work thing first. It felt… safer, I guess. Less emotionally charged than the family stuff. I spent a whole evening just organizing all my notes, like everything. Not emotionally, just facts. What was said, what was promised, what wasn’t delivered, what were the timelines. I created a timeline, bullet points, emails, all of it. I stripped away all the ‘feelings’ and just looked at the cold, hard data. Then I scheduled a meeting. Not a ‘let’s chat about this when you have time’ meeting, but a ‘this is what we’re discussing, and this is what we’re deciding’ meeting. I laid it all out, clear as day. No room for misunderstandings, no vague language, no letting people off the hook. It was uncomfortable, super uncomfortable actually, to be that direct, but it needed to be done. My hands were shaking a bit, I’m not gonna lie.
The family thing was harder. It involved some old patterns, some deep-seated stuff. But again, I went back to that King of Swords energy. What was the absolute, undeniable truth of the situation? Not how I felt about it, but what was objectively happening? What boundary was non-negotiable for my own peace and well-being? I spent a few days rehearsing what I wanted to say in my head, focusing on being firm but not accusatory. I didn’t want a fight; I wanted a resolution. I focused on ‘I need’ and ‘I will’ statements, not ‘you always’ or ‘you never.’ Then I had the conversation. It wasn’t a shouting match; it was a clear, calm, albeit firm, statement of where things stood for me. I spoke my truth, laid down my boundary. The air in the room got thick, but I held my ground. Didn’t back down.
Funny thing, once I actually did it, once I spoke the truth and drew those lines, it felt like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. The work situation, surprisingly, started to clear up faster than I expected. Some people weren’t happy, sure, they never are when you make them accountable, but at least we were moving forward. And the family boundary? It stuck. Took a little while for everyone to adjust, and there were a few attempts to push back, but I just kept reiterating, calmly and consistently. It held. And my resentment started to dissolve.
What I really got from that whole King of Swords experience wasn’t just ‘be smart’ or ‘be firm.’ It was about the courage to apply that smartness. It was about using my head to solve problems, not just getting tangled up in emotions or letting things fester out of fear of confrontation. It taught me about figuring out what’s actually true, even if that truth is hard to face, and then acting on that truth with purpose and integrity. Not being a jerk, but being decisive and principled.
Now, when I see the King of Swords, I don’t dread him. I see him as a powerful reminder to get my facts straight, to be clear in my communication, and to not shy away from making the tough calls when they’re necessary for clarity and progress. It’s not about being cold or emotionless; it’s about being effective, honest, and having the integrity to stand by what you know to be right, especially with myself. It showed me that sometimes, the sharpest tool in the shed is simply blunt honesty, applied with a clear and unwavering head.
