13th of November, and the cards offer a paradoxical image: The Tower, reversed.
I admit, my deck maintenance has been lacking since my last full moon cleanse. My usual ritual of ordering the cards, all upright, was abandoned. I simply scooped them up and left them, leading to an interesting side effect: a much higher frequency of reversed pulls. I’m rolling with it, and frankly, the reversed interpretations seem to resonate more deeply lately.
The Age of Anxiety and Moderate Rainfall
Perhaps this morning’s mood is influencing the reading, but I can’t shake the annoyance of a new notification on my phone: a Met Office warning for moderate rainfall.
It appeared after a recent update, part of an initiative called “community resilience.” I learned, when I went searching for how to turn it off. Resilience is good, of course, but it’s just a bit of rain. Do we truly need to be ready for moderate events now?
I understand the bigger picture. I’m acutely aware that we live in a world where “the planet is on fire” messages are a daily reality. Cognitive dissonance doesn’t wash over me. I do my bit: I reduce, reuse, recycle. I’ve never driven, sidestepping the massive hypocrisy that comes with car ownership. I conserve water. Yet, my hands are tied in many ways. I own tech, heat my home with gas. I know sustainability is a journey, an aim, not a destination of flawless perfection.
Still, that little triangular warning symbol, the exclamation mark, caused anxiety. It had a visceral effect, reminding me of the pervasive, underlying fear we all lived with in the early 80s—the CND concerns, the Greenham Common women’s peace camp days. The shape of the alert is a trigger.
But perhaps I should reframe it. Instead of an alarmist symbol of fear, maybe it’s a welcome prompt: a reminder to live my day with eco-awareness. What little thing can I do today to do my bit?
The Vicious Season and The Inner Bastard
The past few days have been rough. The seasonal shift—the SAD—has kicked in. I thought I was ready this year, well-armed, but its vicious ability to affect my mood, energy, and sleep remains unchanged. Still, this awareness gives me armour: “I see you, you nasty bastard. You tried to sneak up on me, but I knew you were coming.”
I was floored, though. Yesterday, I gave in and ate a whole pizza, between naps. Operating in this dreamlike, disassociative state means that the little internal ‘fella on my shoulder’ that reminds me to stick to my tools and good habits has disappeared.
This feeling, compounded by converging confusions—about where I’m heading, who I am—has led to a familiar coping mechanism: I buy and apply crazy colour hair dye. I have pink fingers at the moment. It’s not sensible. It won’t cover the grey. But I’ve done it now.
Reading the Reversed Fall
So, what do the books say about the Tower Reversed?
| Source | Interpretation | Key Message |
|---|---|---|
| Liz Dean | Disaster may have been avoided. | Accept what has happened and forgive. |
| Sarah Bartlett | Learn to adapt and adjust quickly. | See the truth. |
| Tina Gong | Look forward, not back. | Embrace past crisis, understand consequences of inaction, and consider your emotional and mental state. |
The reversed tower isn’t the sudden, devastating collapse. It’s the disaster avoided, or perhaps the slow, painful process of adaptation. It’s a quiet resilience. I can accept the hair dye, the pizza, and the anxiety from a weather warning. I can adjust to the seasonal dip and find the truth in the small, eco-aware actions. The fall was halted, and now it’s time to build the foundation stronger than before.