Man, lemme tell you about “Le Pendu,” that Hanged Man card. When I first pulled it, honestly, I just stared. An upside-down dude, one foot tied, looking kinda chill about it? My brain just kept yelling, “What in the world is happening here?”
I remember this one time, I was trying to figure out a messy work situation. Everything felt jammed up. I did a spread, hoping for some clear-cut answers, you know? Like, “Should I quit?” or “Should I talk to my boss?” And boom, right there in the “what to do” spot, was the Hanged Man. I just sighed. Really? This guy again? It felt like the universe was just messing with me, telling me to hang out and do nothing. I definitely didn’t want to do nothing; I wanted to fix it. So, I kinda shuffled it back in, pulled another card, got some other vaguely helpful stuff, and tried to ignore that weird feeling the Hanged Man gave me.
But the thing about these cards, they got a way of bugging you if you don’t listen. It started popping up everywhere for me. Every time I tried to ask about something that felt stuck, there it was. It wasn’t just a random pull anymore; it was like the card itself was saying, “Hey, buddy, I’m trying to tell you something important here.” I eventually gave in. I figured, okay, if it keeps showing up, I gotta really look at it.
So, I started just staring at it. Not reading about it, just looking at the picture. I saw the light around his head, the serene face. He wasn’t struggling. He wasn’t freaking out. He just… was. Hanging there. It started to click that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t about being trapped or punished. It was about choosing to be there. Choosing to pause. Choosing to see things differently. I mean, he’s literally upside down, which is a pretty different view, right?
I started thinking about my own life. Where was I trying too hard to force things? Where was I pushing and pushing, banging my head against a wall, when maybe I needed to just… stop? My work situation was a prime example. I was trying to control every outcome, trying to argue my point, trying to change other people’s minds. It was exhausting, and nothing was actually moving forward. I realized, looking at that card, that I was so focused on the usual way of doing things that I wasn’t even considering another angle. I was stuck in my own head, not the situation itself.
That’s when I tried something radical for me: I just backed off. I stopped trying to solve the problem directly. I stopped talking about it constantly. I literally just took a step back, mentally, from the whole thing. It felt weird, almost like giving up. But it wasn’t giving up. It was more like a voluntary surrender of my need to control the outcome. I didn’t quit my job, and I didn’t pick a fight. I just decided to observe. To listen more. To not react immediately. To let things unfold without my constant intervention.
And you know what happened? Things started to shift. Slowly. Because I wasn’t so intensely focused on “my way,” I started noticing other perspectives, other solutions I hadn’t seen before. Someone else suggested an approach I hadn’t even considered, and because I wasn’t so dug in, I was open to hearing it. It wasn’t about my effort; it was about my perspective changing. I gained clarity not by fighting through it, but by pausing and letting go of my fixed ideas. It really opened my eyes to how much I cling to my own way of seeing things.
Now, when I pull “Le Pendu,” I don’t dread it. I actually welcome it. It’s a reminder to hit the brakes. To stop trying so hard. To literally flip my perspective and see what new insights come from just being still and observing. It’s not about inaction in a lazy way; it’s about strategic, active suspension for a deeper understanding. It’s a powerful lesson in letting go to gain everything.
