I didn't notice last night, but I made a mistake. I was so very ready to write about the Hanged Man last night that I accidentally made it card eleven. It really is card twelve. Eleven happens to be Strength or Fortitude. Then again, it's kind of interesting to note that cards eleven and eight were arbitrarily mixed up by the makers of the well-known and esteemed Rider-Waite tarot, so this is not like it's totally set in stone.
With that disclaimer out of the way, I give you Strength.
Sometimes I find it's easier to write about the obscure and indefensible cards– the ones that make you uncomfortable or that you don't want to pop up. The easy cards are easy: everyone *wants* strength, for instance. I mean, really– what's not to like?
Everyone wants to be the sun that shines at noon, blinding the populace with its radiance.
Everyone wants to have lust and vim and vigor and love of life.
Everyone wants to sound the barbaric YAWP! that Whitman wrote about, right?
So, okay. That's cool and everything, but how many more times do I have to abuse the repetition tool before you start rolling your eyes?
Strength: good, in moderation.
(Something else good in moderation? Blogging.)