When I first properly started messing around with tarot cards, really digging into them beyond just looking at the pretty pictures, the Page of Swords always felt a bit… elusive. You know, like, what’s the big deal? All the books would trot out stuff like “new ideas” or “communication” or “a messenger.” And yeah, that’s fine, it’s technically true, but it didn’t really land for me. It felt too simple, too generic. Like trying to describe the taste of water. Sure, it’s wet, it quenches thirst, but there’s more to it, right?
I remember this period early on, I was doing a lot of readings for myself, trying to figure out what was next after a big life change. I kept pulling this Page. Over and over. And I’d just sit there, staring at it, feeling this vague sense of dissatisfaction. My initial thought was, “Okay, great, more thoughts. More talking. But where’s the action? Where’s the meat?” I felt like I was always on the verge of some big insight, but the Page kept showing up like a kid who’s full of questions but no real answers yet. It was frustrating, honestly. I wanted the King of Swords, the Five of Swords, something with some punch, some definitive direction. But nope, just this eager, slightly naive kid with a sword.
My Clunky Path to Understanding
My breakthrough with the Page of Swords, or at least my personal “aha!” moment, came through a mix of personal readings and watching it show up for friends. I had this friend, let’s call her Sarah, who was constantly, and I mean constantly, talking about starting a podcast. She had all these brilliant ideas, outlines, guest lists, even recorded a few intro jingles. She was a walking encyclopedia of podcast knowledge – types of mics, editing software, marketing strategies. You name it, she’d researched it. But for months, it was just talk. It wasn’t out there.
Every time she’d ask me for a reading about her “creative project,” guess what popped up? Yep, our little Page. And it finally clicked for me. It wasn’t just about “new ideas.” It was about the energy of new ideas, the initial spark, the curiosity, the almost obsessive need to gather information and dissect things. The sword itself, held high, ready. But it wasn’t using the sword to cut through anything yet. It was more about the potential of the sword, the readiness to learn how to wield it, rather than actual, decisive action.
I started seeing the Page of Swords less as a definitive message and more as a specific kind of energy. It’s the person who asks a million questions, sometimes annoying ones, because they genuinely want to understand. It’s the phase where you’re just soaking things in, observing, poking around. It’s got this youthful, quick-witted vibe, sharp as a tack but sometimes without the wisdom to apply that sharpness effectively. So, for Sarah, it was telling her, “You’ve got all the pieces of information, all the keenness, now actually do something with it. Stop just thinking and talking.”
Embracing the “Why” and the “How”
After that, my readings started shifting. When the Page of Swords would appear, I stopped asking “what’s the message?” and started asking “what kind of energy is at play here?”
- Is it about a new piece of information coming in that needs careful, perhaps skeptical, examination?
- Is it about my own internal state of being highly curious, maybe a bit restless, needing to explore a new concept?
- Is it a warning to be mindful of my words, or someone else’s, as they might be sharp, direct, but lack tact or deeper understanding?
- Could it be about someone young, or someone with a youthful, eager attitude, bringing a new perspective – sometimes unrefined, but often refreshing?
I started to appreciate its raw potential. It’s the intellectual beginner, full of vim and vigor, ready to learn, sometimes a bit clumsy with their words or ideas because they haven’t learned the finesse yet. Think of a bright kid who’s just learned a new word and tries to use it in every sentence, not always correctly, but with huge enthusiasm.
There was another time, I was going through a period where I felt like I was always defending my ideas, or feeling like people were scrutinizing me. The Page of Swords kept popping up. And it wasn’t that I was wrong, or that people were necessarily attacking me. It was more like I was putting myself out there in a way that invited that kind of back-and-forth, that intellectual sparring. The Page loves to observe, to question, to challenge. And sometimes, if you’re embodying that energy, or if it’s around you, that’s just the vibe. It taught me to sometimes dial down the “I know everything” stance and just be open to the inquiry, even if it feels a bit like being cross-examined.
It’s not a heavy card, not like some of the other Swords. It’s light, quick, airy. It’s about the first gust of wind that rustles the leaves of a new idea. It’s about that initial spark of an argument, or the beginning of an investigation. It’s the fresh pair of eyes seeing something for the first time, full of questions and unafraid to speak their mind, sometimes without thinking through the consequences.
So now, when I pull the Page of Swords, I don’t dread it. I actually feel a sense of alert curiosity. It tells me to pay attention to what’s new, what’s being said, how I’m communicating, and how others are. It reminds me that sometimes, the most profound insights come from the most unpolished, beginner’s questions. It’s about learning to be sharp, but also about learning when to hold back and when to dive in. It’s less about the answer and more about the journey of finding it, the sheer joy (and occasional awkwardness) of that initial exploration.
