The Great Demolition

The Tower

There are few cards that invoke more fear other than the Tower. A burning building, struck by a lightning bolt. The crumbling foundation shook by an earthquake. Two people have flung themselves (or been flung) out the window, with looks of terror and concern on their faces.

The terror of the unknown, uncertainty, not sure if they will hit the ground safely. Its an image of chaos, fear, violence, destruction, and fire.

Fire burning away all that was and would ever be, down the the last brick of that crumbling foundation.

They aren’t jumping because they want to fly; they’re jumping because the alternative is staying in a furnace. They’re mid-air, suspended in that terrifying "in-between," not sure if they’re gonna land on a mattress or the jagged rocks of reality.

It’s chaos. It’s violence. It’s the smell of ozone and old wood burning down to the last damn brick.

Life is full of these drastic tower moments. Its like the comet hurling to Earth to wipe out the dinosaurs: its to make way for something new. In order for something new to be built, the old must be demolished.

Sometimes the tower represnts our phsyical minds, our limiting perspective. What restricitons, opinions, constraints or paradigms have you built for yourself lately that will be torn down? High up in our towering castle we may feel safe and secure, but in reality, nothing is immune to the fire of change.

Here’s the thing about a Tower moment: We usually build those towers ourselves. We spend years stacking bricks of "security," "status," and "how things are supposed to be."

We build our walls so high, so we can look down and feel safe.

But let’s be honest. Half the time, we’re building on sand. We’re building paradigms that are too small for the souls we’re actually carrying.

For those of us who have lived through Tower moments in our lives, we know how dreadful the experience can be. Losing a job, going through a break up, enduring a failure, watching something that used to be so stable and reliable crumble and sift between our fingers. We get so fixated on the falling bricks and the terror of the drop that we go blind. We can’t see the blessing of the change because we’re too busy mourning the architecture.

We can get so fixated on the terror and the panic of this event that the fear blinds us to the blessing of change: which is change itself.

The Tower leaves you standing on the bare earth, stripped of your ego, your fancy drapes, and your "limiting perspectives."

And that’s when you realize: whoa, you’re still breathing! You may have hit the ground, maybe youre a bit bruised, but you’re standing.

And for the first time in a long time, you can see the horizon because that big, ugly Tower isn't blocking your view anymore.

With change, you are given the freedom to build something new. To pivot, to create a new construct. There are other jobs, other relationships, other opportunities and horizons out there… many of them surprisingly better than the old one we were so desperately clinging on to.

Pain is a part of life, suffering, destruction. The only thing that never changes is change itself. We are only players dancing on the stage, but everything weve built will eventually be unbuilt one day.

The six if swords is an image of two people on a boat, paddling away to a distant shore.

The Tower was the invitation to change, but the Six of Swords is the acceptance of it.

“Good” the Six of Swords says, “Now you can finally leave.”

A Note to Self: Don't spend your life trying to fireproof a building that's meant to burn. Build your foundation in the truth of who you are, not the bricks of what you own.