The Chariot

Like several of the other Trumps, this one has gradually moved away from its earlier associations in response to assigned astrological correspondences. The newer affiliation with the sign of Cancer has pulled the Chariot away from earlier associations with the planet Mars. There remain martial applications for the Chariot, obviously, but the primary focus shifts to its defensive capabilities and armor, thus leading to greater confidence, and away from attack and offense. Power and momentum are now more secondary aspects of this card, while security and control or self-mastery are brought to the fore. Is Phaeton up to the task of driving the the Sun god’s chariot? Can he hold or manage his horses? There are some important solar aspects to this card’s core meaning. The tie to the sign of Cancer suggests the summer solstice and the early days of summer. This is also a time when the animals molt, surrendering the protection that they can no longer afford to carry, or shells that they have now outgrown. The Yijing counterpart, Gua 49, Seasonal Change or Revolution, also has strong ties to this image of shedding the old and encumbering weight, or renewal and lightening up. Fire in the Lake also means the time for the lake to overturn, where its bottom layer upwells to the surface. We are stirred into motion again, but we want to stay able to move with the time, to advance or retreat accordingly. All of these point out a fundamental question with the Chariot card: what compromise is to be made between the security of the Chariot’s defenses and its mobility and effectiveness in pitched battle. We don’t want a slow-moving, horse- drawn tank any more than we want a warrior fighting naked. When we unpack this image as a metaphor, we look at psychic structure as a vehicle for moving through life. We might even find Arjuna down in there. We are born with a wide array of potential defenses: some help and some don’t. We live and learn which is which. Here we want to strip this vehicle down, to optimize our adventure, losing things like parts of the ego that do us no good at all. We don’t want ideologies that prevent us from changing direction. We don’t want convictions that blind us to our errors. We want brakes as well as forth-going power. We want to travel as lightly as we possibly can, and yet we might still want the cup-holder option and the corrosion- resistant undercoating. How at home do we want to be in our journey through this life? The hotels want us to fear going native, the villagers want to see Peace Corps with backpacks. The trick with incarnation is being at home in our skin and as little else as we need to get by and away with. There is carry-on luggage and then there is baggage. Armor gives us a comfort zone, a way to withstand the onslaughts, a refuge and a safe space, a tiny little home kingdom to rule. It’s the circle a witch draws around her to keep the damned demons out. We protect our softest spots, where we want to get fondled, not stabbed. This is all like adding a second skin. But the problem is, only the first skin has senses. We can make ourselves so secure and protected that all we get now is numb. We get senseless and unreachable when we go too far. The persona or mask we put on to deal with the outside world has a hard time changing expression to show how we really feel. It’s the opposite of naked, or simply-girded loins, and just as problematic. The chariot stays in the middle of that road, but tries to avoid the ruts. Aside from protection from actual damage, the Chariot gives us self-confidence and courage, a sense of being prepared or ready. We have moved the locus of conquest back to the outer boundaries of self and now try to conquer our doubts, insecurities, and fears. We don’t need the blind and senseless heroics, but we do want the kind of audacity and daring that comes through the battle still breathing and still having slain at least a couple of errors and faults. We might even hope to transform our fears into power, or adrenaline at least. We pull ourselves together like harnessing those horses and reining them in, and get our selves moving all in the same direction. What we draw on for encouragement will work best in the end if it isn’t a lie or a myth, but we do what we can here. That part of the task might come down to what best encourages the horses. After courage, we learn to command ourselves, to direct the team of selves within, to harness our beasts and even to bind our demons. We can even learn to manage our moods and their swings, to pull those contradictions together and get some control over where we are going in life. Nietzsche suggested (TSZ-49): “Do as you will, but first be able to will. And love your neighbor as yourself, but first be able to love yourself.” The Chariot gives us a very small kingdom to rule, but within that lies more sovereignty and nobility than most of us can carry.