Many cards in the tarot symbolize some form of “victory” or “good omen”—the triumph of The Chariot, or the glory of the Six of Wands. But among all these affirmations, only Card Nineteen, The Sun, radiates a purity that is nearly blinding in its absolute positivity.
The image of this card is extremely straightforward, even carrying a touch of childlike crudeness: an enormous sun hangs in a cloudless sky, its rays straight and intense. Before a brick wall overgrown with sunflowers, a child wearing a wreath of fresh flowers and a giant red feather in his hair rides, stark naked, astride an unsaddled white horse, brandishing a red banner in his hand.
If you know even a little psychology, you will know that maintaining innocence is no easy feat—it often requires far more energy than maintaining guile.
The Sun’s greatness lies in the fact that it follows immediately after Card Eighteen, The Moon. This is why the tarot’s journey is called the Fool’s Journey. This naked child is not a tender sprout raised in a greenhouse, never touched by wind or rain. He is the survivor’s form that emerges after having narrowly survived Death’s severance, broken free of The Devil’s chains, escaped alive from The Tower’s rubble, and groped his way through the darkness of The Moon’s swamp of fear and delusion.
Having experienced the ultimate darkness and complexity, yet still choosing to embrace the sunlight in the most primal, undefended nakedness—this is the invincible source of The Sun’s power.
When it rises brilliantly in a question, all its hints point toward three words: “exposed to the light.”
This does not mean good things die in the light. It means that under this card’s illumination, no secrets, suspicions, or shadowy schemes can survive. If it is a matter of love, it tells you: stop testing the waters, stop obsessing over convoluted subtext. Lay your heart directly before them, as straight as this sunlight. If it is a matter of career, it encourages you: do not hide or hold back. Show your talent openly and generously, even if your movements look like those of a carefree child.
And when The Sun’s rays are briefly blocked by clouds—the reversed state—it never signifies disaster or destruction. It simply means the light has come a little late, or more commonly—you have grown so accustomed to walking in darkness that, arriving suddenly in sunlight, you instinctively shield your eyes, unable to believe things could really be this simple and smooth. You feel unworthy of the happiness about to arrive. You keep thinking, “It’s going too well—there must be a catch.”
Put down that hyper-vigilant victim mentality.
The next time you draw this card, consider tossing those tangled social strategies and the armor of self-protection straight into the trash. Like that child who forgoes even a saddle and rides directly on a bare horse, face the wind and ask yourself:
“If I admit that right now I truly am happy, satisfied, and hiding nothing at all—would I lose anything?”
Permit yourself to be simple, just once. The light has arrived. Everything is clear.