Dumping the Books and Starting the Practice
Okay, so everyone always talks about the Pages and the Knights when they start Tarot. They are easy, right? They are the learners and the action-takers. But the Kings? Man, those guys are tough nuts to crack. I wrestled with the Kings for months after I first picked up my deck.
I tried to do it the standard way. I bought three different books. I made flashcards. I memorized the keywords: King of Pentacles is stable, King of Swords is intellectual, King of Cups is emotional, King of Wands is charismatic. I practiced drawing them every morning, trying to feel their energy.
But then I started doing readings for friends. When a King popped up in a position of challenge or outcome, I froze. My brain would just spit out the textbook definitions: “You are being asked to be stable.” Great. What does that actually mean when my friend is asking if she should quit her job?
I realized that my biggest issue was separating the Kings from each other. They all look like they are sitting there, ruling something. They all represent mastery and authority. How do I tell the difference between a King of Wands (the ambitious CEO) and a King of Swords (the strict judge)?
So, I ditched the books. I put away the flashcards. I needed a new angle. I decided to stop seeing the Kings as concepts and start seeing them as actual, annoying people I knew.
The Messy Process of Personification
I grabbed a notebook and drew four columns. I forced myself to assign four real people—either from my past or public figures—who perfectly embodied the King energy, both good and bad.
- King of Pentacles: I chose my uncle. He’s the guy who owns the local hardware store chain. He built it from nothing. He is solid, steady, dependable, but man, he measures every single penny. I wrote down that his negative side is being totally materialistic and unwilling to change anything if it costs a dime.
- King of Wands: I picked the head of the marketing department at my last job. All fire, all energy. He stormed into meetings, demanded results, and inspired people just by talking loud. But he also burned out constantly and forgot the small details.
- King of Cups: I went with a therapist friend. Super calm, listens, always knows how you feel. But he also gets totally lost in other people’s drama and avoids confrontation like the plague.
- King of Swords: This was the hardest, but I settled on an old college professor. Brilliant, sharp, analytical. He demolished bad arguments in class. But he cared zero about feelings. Pure logic.
For a few weeks, whenever a King showed up, I didn’t read the meaning. I just said: “Uncle Bob is here. What would Uncle Bob do about this problem?” It was crude, but it worked because I wasn’t reading a card; I was reading a person’s potential actions.
The Moment the King of Swords Became Real
Things were going okay with this new method, but I was still missing the depth. Then, about a year ago, I ran into the ultimate real-world King scenario, and it wasn’t a good one.
I got a major notification from the state tax office. They claimed I hadn’t filed a specific form five years ago. I knew I had. I spent hours digging up old files, found the receipt, and sent it to them.
The guy assigned to my case—let’s call him Mr. Johnson—was the purest embodiment of the King of Swords I have ever met. Not mean, not greedy, just absolutely, coldly devoted to procedure and the letter of the law. I called him. I explained the situation. I sent the documentation again.
He simply said, “That documentation is not in the required format for submission under code 43B. You must resubmit form 88A.”
I argued. I pleaded. I tried to use common sense. He just repeated the procedure. I saw it then—the King of Swords isn’t just “smart.” He is a wall of intellectual control. He uses truth and procedure as his fortress, and if you don’t speak his exact language, you can’t get in. He wasn’t trying to hurt me; he was just strictly enforcing the rules he was tasked with.
I realized the core difference: The King of Pentacles uses resources to control the outcome. The King of Swords uses defined logic and rules to control the situation. That cold, unyielding experience taught me more about that card than any book ever could.
My Simple King Tips You Need to Understand
After that tax nightmare, I finally cracked the Kings. Here is the simple, non-textbook way I started reading them, and it made everything click.
The King is not a feeling; the King is a system of control.
- King of Swords:
The system is The Law. He controls by defining, clarifying, and enforcing rules. When he shows up, you need absolute clarity and zero emotion.
- King of Pentacles:
The system is The Bank. He controls by having all the resources, stability, and physical power. When he shows up, you need practical grounding and focus on wealth or health.
- King of Wands:
The system is The Mission. He controls by initiating, driving, and motivating. When he shows up, you need bold, immediate action and to stop overthinking.
- King of Cups:
The system is The Atmosphere. He controls by maintaining emotional harmony and influence. When he shows up, you need diplomacy, careful influence, and sometimes, manipulative emotional intelligence.
Forget the fluffy descriptions. Next time a King appears, ask yourself: Who in my life is currently applying this kind of absolute control? Is it a cold, procedural control (Swords), or a solid, slow resource control (Pentacles)? Once you stop thinking of them as vague archetypes and start seeing them as the annoying, powerful authority figures we all have to deal with, the readings come alive.
