Wheel of Fortune and the Law of Cycles
Among all sources of human suffering, “trying to control things that are never ours to control” easily ranks in the top three. We are obsessed with attributing success to our own intelligence, yet when misfortune strikes, we cry out in protest, demanding: “Why me?”
At this moment, the great wheel in the sky of Card Ten rumbles into motion. The Wheel of Fortune acts like a cold, third-party observer, indifferent to your anger, your tears, or your self-satisfaction. On the face of the card, Anubis—the jackal—rises with the wheel, while Typhon—the serpent, representing destruction—slides downward with it. The four sacred beasts in the corners look on with solemn expressions, silently watching this ceaseless alternation of rise and fall.
The appearance of the Wheel of Fortune often means that events have crossed the threshold beyond which individual intervention holds any sway. This is a vast current far greater than personal will.
When you are riding the high of a triumphant moment, this card is a wake-up call: do not be arrogant. Every crest must inevitably slide toward a trough. All the good fortune and resources you currently possess are temporary loans. And when you are deep in the mire, besieged on all sides, its appearance is the most reassuring comfort: do not be afraid. The wheel is still turning. This too shall pass.
When facing uncontrollable variables, people are most prone to a deeply draining psychological reaction: blaming fate, or desperately trying to reverse the downturn through every unorthodox means—often manifesting as this card’s so-called “adverse/reversed” state. When we desperately try to cling to a single point on the rim as the wheel plunges downward, the only result is being mercilessly flung off by the immense centrifugal force, shattered beyond recognition.
Resisting change is the most devastating futility in the world.
So, faced with the grand rotation of fate, must we simply throw up our hands and resign ourselves to destiny? No.
Observe that spinning wheel and you will notice: the rim moves at the greatest speed, with the most violent turbulence. Yet at the very center of the hub—that place called the “still point”—no matter how the periphery churns and rotates, that place is forever absolutely still.
This hints at the ultimate inner art for navigating the vast currents of fate: you cannot stop the shifting of circumstances, the cycle of industries, the gathering and scattering of human hearts. But amid the surging waves, you can retreat to that unshakable origin at your core—the values you believe in without doubt, the meaning you have established for your existence in this world.
The next time the Wheel of Fortune spins before you at the reading table, rather than obsessing over the win or loss of that project, try closing your eyes and experiencing this weightlessness:
“If I admit that the current situation is long beyond my power to influence, what am I afraid of in letting go of attachment and going with the flow?”
Everything is a cycle. Once you see through this, you transform from a die tumbling with the wheel into the observer of the wheel itself.