Tarot Card Meanings: The Chariot

“I see it, I want it, I stunt, yellow-bone it
I dream it, I work hard, I grind ’til I own it
I twirl on them haters, albino alligators
El Camino with the seat low, sippin’ Cuervo with no chaser
Sometimes I go off, I go hard
Get what’s mine, I’m a star
Cause I slay”

‘Formation’ by Beyoncé (Knowles/Williams/Hogan/Brown)

Welcome to my chariot wheel!

The Chariot is the seventh card of the Major Arcana, representing willpower, victory, determination, and the challenge of keeping opposing forces in balance. In this post, I explore what the Chariot means in Tarot readings: its triumphs, its warnings, and its many fascinating depictions across different decks.

Though it’s called the Chariot, this card isn’t really about the vehicle, it’s about the driver. The charioteer is the one who draws your eye, commanding your attention and immediately asking you to identify with him. And in my experience as a reader, querents love identifying with him. Honestly, I’d legit say he’s one of the most well-received cards in the deck. I get it – he’s capable, focused, fiercely goal-orientated. He’s got that bold, in-your-face “fuck you world, I’m a winner” energy, and the imagery screams SUCCESS! The Chariot is a big, unambiguous yes – and let’s face it, people always like hearing a “yes,” even if, long term, a “no” might serve them better.

I can’t help but compare the Chariot to Strength, the next card in the Major Arcana and one that, to me, offers a gentler and ultimately more sustainable path to self-mastery. While the Charioteer asserts control through sheer force of will, Strength asks us to meet our wilder instincts with compassion and patience. Bakara Wintner offers a memorable warning about staying in Chariot energy for too long: “it takes a toll on the body, enables the workaholic, and threatens burnout. It is jet fuel in a lawnmower engine. Use sparingly for triumph and success.” I pretty much always quote that line in readings, because it hits. On the plus side, you’re gonna mow the lawn really fucking fast. On the downside? One day, that lawnmower’s gonna blow up.

The Chariot is a triumphant card, but it also warns against chasing victory at all costs – especially if that cost is blowing up our figurative ‘lawnmower’! Willpower can be a gift, but it can also become a trap. As Jessica Dore puts it: “The Chariot reveals the limitations of willpower and the dangers of believing life is simply a series of completing tasks and yoking wild bulls so they’ll do what we want them to… Yes, willpower can carry you to many places. But make no mistake, stuckness is one of them.”

Symbolism in the Chariot Tarot card

Symbolism-wise, one of the coolest things about this card is how it combines symbols from all the previous six Major Arcana cards. The Magician can be seen transfigured into the Chariot’s main figure; the imagery of the High Priestess is echoed in the duality of the two sphinxes; the star headdress and canopy come from the Empress; the cube like shape of the chariot itself mimics the Emperor‘s throne; the triad of the charioteer and the sphinxes recreates the Hierophant and his two priests; and the ‘yoni’ (woman) and ‘lingam’ (man) joined beneath a pair of wings reflects the man and woman joined beneath the angel Raphael from the Lovers card.

The Chariot, then, marks the end of the first ‘phase’ or ‘cycle’ of the Major Arcana – that which focuses on the conscious and our day-to-day lives in the physical world. The Carr-Gomms describe this phase as developing awareness and building character, and Rachel Pollack talks about it as representing the outer concerns of life in society. Charlie Claire Burgess suggests that, by including these little nod to previous cards, the Chariot is giving us a heads-up as to the skills we need if we want to navigate our horses successfully down our chosen path. Instead of “chasing some external ideal of progress”, the Tarot here suggests that “we gather… all the wisdom of the cards so far and put it into practice:… creativity, self-knowledge, emotional intelligence, accountability, listening, awareness, reflection, love”. In other words: once we have integrated all of the energies of the first six Major Arcana into our psychology, we are on the road to success!

The black and white sphinxes (or horses as they are often depicted in more contemporary decks), are generally taken to represent our minds; specifically, our fears and desires, or the active and passive parts of our psyche. Some have linked the black and white horses to Plato’s Phaedrus Dialogue, wherein Socrates likened the chariot to the human soul. Socrates says that the soul is like “the composite nature of a pair of winged horses and a charioteer.” In this analogy, the human soul steers a chariot drawn by two horses of different natures, one light and of noble breed (“a lover of honour and modesty and temperance, and a follower of true glory”) which represents our spirit, and the other dark and ignoble (“the mate of insolence and pride, shag-eared and deaf, hardly yielding to whip and spur”) which represents our material desire. The charioteer has to wrestle to control the dark horse, and to bring the pair into harmony, until “his whole soul is bathed in perspiration”. This myth explains our inner conflicts – balancing our long-term spiritual health and wellbeing with things that feel good in the here and now – and the effort involved in steering ourselves through life.

While we can see the mastery inherent in the Chariot in some of the above cards, I think the flip side of this idea really comes to the fore in the Lili White Tarot – that heavily armoured glove looks like it’s starting to lose its grip on the reins, and those two wild horses are going to rampage. There’s only so long we can hold together a conflicted situation through the sheer dint of our will.

In the RWS deck, the Charioteer is flanked not by horses but by sphinxes – mythical guardians who famously posed a riddle to travellers at the gates of Thebes. In some modern decks, the sphinxes are swapped for cats, but the reference remains. The original Sphinx challenged all who approached with the question: “What has four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in the evening?” Those who failed to answer correctly were promptly turned into Sphinx-lunch, until Oedipus solved it with his reply: “Man – who crawls on all fours as a baby, walks on two legs in adulthood, and uses a cane in old age.”

Riddles are a reminder that things are not always what they seem. They ask us to look beneath the surface. And so does the Chariot. At first glance, it appears to be a straightforward card of triumph and forward motion, but there’s something deeper and more complex beneath its polished veneer. As Charlie Claire Burgess notes, the presence of the sphinx on the card may also serve as a warning: “when we lack self-awareness of our strengths and limitations, when we lack humility and reflection, we become the instruments of our own destruction.” Victory without self-knowledge is fragile. The Chariot may move fast, but it might not always move wisely.

It’s also worth noting that the Chariot’s sphinxes are often shown looking in opposite directions, with no sign of reins nor attachment to the actual chariot! On one level, this might symbolise the role of sheer will in mastering opposing forces – the balance between our conscious and unconscious selves. No harness is needed when it’s mental strength alone holding everything together.

But there’s another, more subversive interpretation: that the “chariot” itself isn’t really a chariot at all, at least not in the conventional sense. Historically, chariots have symbolised many things: divine transport for the gods, weapons of war, vehicles for triumphal processions, or even a spiritual “ride home.” But by the time Tarot imagery was codified, real chariots were long obsolete.

Through this lens, the Charioteer’s crown becomes pantomime, his shoulder-moons symbolic masks of theatre and illusion. The unmoving sphinxes echo carousel horses; the chariot itself, more Punch and Judy booth than war cart. This card may not represent a true victory, then, but the pretence of one. It asks us to question whether what we’re seeing is a performance of success rather than the real thing. As Charlie Claire Burgess writes in Radical Tarot, the danger of the Chariot lies in “the temptation to follow the parade, to go through the motions, to perform a brand of success and happiness that we too often mistake for the real thing.”

But this doesn’t mean the Chariot is hollow. Writing on the Aeclectic Tarot forum, Sophie suggests that these tensions – between truth and illusion, stillness and motion, ritual and performance – are the point. In the Charioteer we find “the quest for truth and the illusion, the movement and the standing still, the battle and the assumed victory, the showmanship and the deep ritual, the kingship and the subversion, the integrity in the mask [and] the lie in the naked face” – all reflecting the contradictions of our human endeavours and spiritual journeys.

This duality is beautifully captured in decks like This Might Hurt Tarot and Twice Told Tarot, which depict their Charioteers not as warriors, but as Magician-like figures: wands raised, chariots unmoving. Not charging ahead, but standing in that potent in-between: where will meets theatre, and ritual meets performance.

Most Chariot cards also feature a main figure – the charioteer – commonly understood as a representation of the ego or self, driving forward and creating the life we desire. Carl Jung, the King of the Archetype so beloved by students of the Tarot, argued that “the self uses the individual psyche as a means of conveyance. Man is propelled, as it were, along the road to individuation”. The Charioteer becomes this very vehicle: the self, in motion, forging its path.

The four poster canopy often pictured above the charioteer’s head, reminds us not only of the Empress, but also the Four of Wands, hinting at a sense of security, self-possession, and inner stability. The crescent moons on the Charioteer’s shoulders are usually read as symbols of instinct or intuition – a nod, perhaps, to the Chariot’s links to the Moon card. And that connection is especially interesting when we remember that the Chariot is astrologically associated with Cancer (it is a heavily armoured little crab after all!), and Cancer is ruled by the moon.

When I first began my deep dive, I remember thinking you couldn’t find two cards more opposed than the Chariot and the Moon! But over time, I’ve come to see them as two sides of a deeper tension: between what we can direct and control (the Chariot) and what remains mysterious, shifting, and unknowable (the Moon). It’s the black horse and the white horse again, only this time with a slightly more sympathetic take on the one pulling us into the dark.

Interestingly, the number 7 is attributed to both the moon, and to the goddess Minerva, and I def think there’s a case to be made that Minerva ‘is’ the charioteer. Like the figure in the card, Minerva is often portrayed as androgynous – not a blushing maiden, but a fully armoured goddess who sprang from the head of Zeus, ready for battle. One of her ancient titles was “the Bridler,” referring to the myth in which she tames and bridles Pegasus. It makes sense, then, that she’d have the skill and composure to rein in the two wild steeds that pull the chariot.

But Minerva isn’t only a warrior goddess, she also rules wisdom, and more specifically, practical wisdom. Plato called wisdom “the charioteer of the virtues,” and it’s this kind of decisive, active wisdom that the Chariot card speaks to. It’s not enough to know what’s right; you have to act on it. The Chariot reminds us that failure to act is not a neutral stance – it’s a refusal to use the tools gained in the earlier cards. Without firm direction, without active decision making, the horses of our nature pull us in different directions, and we go nowhere.

Finally, on the front of the chariot is the symbol a Lingam and Yoni, or the yin and yang, a sign of positive and negative energies in harmony.  The pair of wings often shown above the yin and yang could be a symbol for the Egyptian goddess Isis, or could represent flight – the ability to rise above problems by holding firm in our course.

Mind Over Matter: Negative aspects of the Chariot in Tarot

“The achievements of willpower are almost beyond computation. Scarcely anything seems impossible to the man who can will strongly enough and long enough”

Orison Swett Marden

The Chariot is a powerful card, but I also think it’s a lonely one. It speaks to the strength that comes from self-reliance, from armouring up, from taking full control of your own direction. This isn’t a team effort: on the battlefield of life, the chariot rides alone. It’s not part of a regiment, it is the regiment. That kind of autonomy can be exhilarating, but also isolating. The oft-quoted “To thine own self be true” from Hamlet has become a bit of a Chariot Insta-quote cliché, but it still resonates. What’s often forgotten, though, is the next line in Polonius’ speech: “and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” The idea isn’t selfishness, it’s alignment. By being true to yourself, you become capable of authenticity with others. But that relationship is always reciprocal. The Chariot reminds us: we cannot forget others in our quest for truth. We must always stay in dialogue with the world, even while steering our own course.

However, while there’s a LOT of autonomy in the Chariot, there’s unity too – or at least, the demand for it. If any part is missing – the cart, the horses, the driver – the chariot will not work. It’s your focus, your will, your faith that binds all the elements together and gets the vehicle moving. But this is functional unity, not emotional. The Chariot isn’t interested in connection for its own sake, only for what it can achieve. That’s where the caution lies. The Chariot is a card of victory, but if it comes up in a reading we must also consider what comes after. Winning isn’t everything, and it certainly isn’t the end. You may land the job, win the race, get the thing: but then what? Now you have to live with it. Carry it. Maintain it. The Chariot’s final challenge is this: once you reach your destination, what will you do there? The real test begins once the dust settles.

By placing the traditional chariot imagery inside the head of the central figure in the Black Tarot, Rich Black is showing us that the chariot is just that – a metaphor for our internal mental strength. Similarly, the Lacuna Tarot shows the charioteer as a kind of disembodied brain. Both cards do a good job of conveying the card’s core message: mind over matter. And they help us see both the strengths and weaknesses of the psychology of the card.

The therapist and writer Jessica Dore explains that she feels like she’s “constantly doing damage control with people [she] work[s] with around unlearning the myth of willpower as some sort of magic pill or panacea”.  While acknowledging that she too has “wanted to believe that with hard work and elbow grease” she could have what she wanted, she argues that too much of this kind of thinking means you never learn how to cope when “life tells you no… We aren’t really set up to fail well. Rather, we’re indoctrinated with the value of persevering and refusing to take no for an answer.”

She notes that while willpower is great for external challenges, like passing a test or training to run a marathon – it is not so helpful when it comers to internal challenges, like social anxiety or grief. In fact, she warns us, “the way willpower usually manifests in those kinds of cases is through the exertion of efforts to push away or dull the feelings you don’t want. And that gets ugly fast.” You can’t just power through some of life’s challenges, and sometimes you need to take a slow, winding route to healing, not just plough forward straight towards what you imagine to be happiness. Dore argues that to really take control of your own life you need to do more than just follow the path that has been laid for you at breakneck speed. Sometimes other skills are more valuable than willpower: “ones for navigation and way finding”. 

“I took my Power in my Hand —
And went against the World —
‘Twas not so much as David — had —
But I — was twice as bold —

I aimed my Pebble — but Myself
Was all the one that fell —
Was it Goliath — was too large —
Or was myself — too small?”

Emily Dickinson

These tranche of Chariots showing imagery from the natural world demonstrate different takes on the idea of willpower and determination. The Wild Waters Edge Tarot, with its leaping deer at sunrise, is not only stunning, but conveys the message of the card well. Deer are very good at short, intense bursts of speed, but become easily tired over distance (possibly one of the reasons why humans – the ultimate persistence predators – have always hunted them). In a way this can be seen as a metaphor for the Chariot: steely self-determination driving us forward at a fair old clap is a great energy to live in in the short-term, but over the long-term it’s not really sustainable.

The salmon swimming upstream in the Wayhome Tarot is just perfection (so close to being my favourite Chariot card – I’m still torn!). Each year, many salmonid species make the epic journey from the ocean back to their freshwater spawning grounds, fighting the current every inch of the way. The run upriver is gruelling: they travel hundreds of miles, leaping through rapids and waterfalls – some have been recorded managing vertical jumps as high as twelve feet!

Watching a salmon run, the first thing you feel is awe. Their determination to return home, no matter the cost, feels almost miraculous in its intensity. But the journey takes a toll. Many salmon become so singularly focused on their goal that they stop feeding, pushing themselves to the brink of death. And that’s before you factor in predators, from bears to eagles to fishermen – who lie in wait ready to catch (and munch!) the leaping salmon. Salmon that die before reaching their destination fall under what’s known as en route mortality, a figure estimated to reach as high as 87%! So the shadow side of the Chariot’s energy – exhaustion, tunnel vision, costly sacrifice – is powerfully present here.

That doesn’t mean we should reject the energy of the Chariot. Like the salmon, we often want to rise to the challenge because it matters, even if the odds are stacked against us. As Jen Cownie and Fiona Lensvelt write, chariots have always carried the legacy of war and struggle. The journey this card shows us “is not a fun run: you may be met with anything from resistance to outright opposition along the way.” But that’s precisely what makes arrival at our destination so meaningful.

Both these images contrast sharply with the snails in the Cursed Auguries Tarot. Unlike the leaping salmon or the running deer, the snail moves slowly – almost imperceptibly so. But it is still moving. And, importantly, it carries its armour with it, just like the Chariot. This version of the card suggests that even the slowest progress is still progress, and that resilience can come in quiet, unglamorous forms. There’s also something deeply cyclical in the snail’s imagery, a reminder that the path toward inner peace is rarely linear. Instead, it loops and spirals, returning us again and again to lessons we thought we’d already learned. It’s the Chariot reimagined not as a triumphant charge, but as a long, lived-in pilgrimage. As the song goes: “the circle in a spiral, the wheel within the wheel, never ending or beginning on an ever-spinning reel.” Movement, even when it feels slow or repetitive, still carries us forward.

Everyday Vehicle: What the Chariot means in our day-to-day lives

I love the skateboarding Charioteer in the Everyday Enchantment Tarot because it captures one of the core themes of this card: effortless mastery. Skateboarding looks cool & chill but it takes YEARS of practice (and injury and humiliation!) to get this good at it. As deck creator Poppy Palin notes, “having himself under control means the boy can appear tranquil even though his body and mind are operating at their peak.” That’s the Chariot in a nutshell: calm on the outside, pure, focused power underneath.

There’s also something joyful about this image which I really like. The Chariot is a very confident card, and there’s real joy in confidence. As Thirteen explains: “Think about what it must have been like being a chariot driver. You step into this cart drawn by two horses at breakneck speed into the heart of a battle with arrows flying – and you’re going to come up alongside someone and try to defeat them while driving this thing. Re-watch the chariot sequence in Ben-Hur. This is not for the faint of heart! This takes the confidence of a daredevil. Or an extreme sports fanatic.” The Chariot doesn’t just demand control, it demands that you trust yourself enough to fly into the chaos and know you’ve got it handled.

And then two fab, practical Chariots, for people who are like ‘yeah, but wtf does the ‘energy of the Chariot’ actually mean in terms of my day to day life?‘ 😂. As someone who has to make lists (and lists and lists and lists) in order to remember or achieve anything (thanks ADHD!), I really love Harley Hefford’s interpretation of the card as the ‘Maker of Lists’ in Divine Channels. As Hefford explains, the Chariot is the energy that takes us down “the path from to-do to ta da”. He adds that “it’s tempting to abandon your intended schedule and follow a totally different track. But, this time, you decide you made today’s to-do list for sound reasons, so you shall stick to it”. The Chariot thus embodies “the wisdom of our past self’s choices [and] the freedom of our present self’s agency”.

And then, of course, there’s one of my other most relied-upon tools for getting the job done: caffeine! Writing about the Chariot, Bakara Wintner notes, “when working to accomplish a goal and wired with adrenaline, you have harnessed this archetype. You don’t need food. You ain’t got time for sleep.” But you do need coffee, lol, so this hits! It’s that pure, driven, laser-focused energy, where the body is secondary to the mission. But Wintner is clear-eyed about the shadow side, too: staying in Chariot mode too long “takes a toll on the body, enables the workaholic, and threatens burnout.” Like coffee, the Chariot can fuel you; but push too hard, and you’ll crash. Cedar McCloud, creator of The Magic Pantry Tarot, picks up this thread. They point out that any barista worth their salt knows how deeply soil and climate shape the flavour of coffee beans – and, by extension, how much context shapes energy. “It’s all very well to have energy and motivation,” McCloud writes, “but where does it come from? Is it a sustainable source?”

I think all of these cards speak to both the light and shadow sides of the Chariot’s energy. As Meg Jones Wall explains, “movement can both sustain and deplete us, especially when we are working hard to control every step, every breath, every heartbeat.” Steering the Chariot may generate tremendous momentum, but it demands just as much control, focus, and precision in return.

Charlie Claire Burgess also reminds us that progress itself is not inherently virtuous. It can be liberating, yes, but it can also reflect systems of colonialism, capitalism, and the relentless drive to be bigger, better, faster, stronger etc. “Progress is also the bane of our existence,” they write, “stressing us out, running us ragged, and keeping us up at night when we’re not making enough of it… We hold the word up as a trophy, or wave it around like a golden ticket to a brighter future, but by itself all the word means is headway towards a destination.” The Chariot may promise movement, but it’s up to us to ask where we’re going and why.

It’s All About The Journey: Positive aspects of the Chariot Tarot card

I realise I’ve been a bit heavy on the warnings so far – and that’s not entirely fair to what is, on the whole, a really empowering card! So let me lean into my white horse for a moment instead of my black, lol. One of my favourite things about the Chariot is that it isn’t passive – it’s the hero stepping up, taking the reins, and actively driving their own story. Jen Cownie and Fiona Lensvelt call it the “at dawn we ride” card: “Sometimes in life you need to be reminded of your own power: to believe you are the narrator of your own story; that you are not buffeted around by the whims of fortune, but can saddle your own destiny and… ride it… to victory.”

That sense of purposeful movement, of choosing your direction and owning it, is one reason so many decks modernise the Chariot by reimagining it through different modes of transport. They invite us to think about how we’re travelling as much as where we’re going. As Charlie Claire Burgess writes, while “many read the Chariot as a sign to put the pedal to the metal because victory awaits just around the bend, in my experience the Chariot does not so much ensure victory as counsel pacing and process. The card is not about racing or bulldozing through obstacles, but about applying all our faculties – intelligence, wisdom, willpower, and intuition – to the journey.” The Chariot reminds us: we’re not passengers. We’re not at the mercy of the road. We’re the ones holding the reins.

I love the image of The Chariot as a constellation being pulled along by the two horses we see on the Tarot Arthurien. For me The Chariot is (partly) about ‘making one’s own fate’. Instead of waiting to see what is written in the stars for us, this depiction shows us taking charge – driving our own fates forward (or, rather, dragging them along for the ride!)

I also love the goose rider in Ana Tourian’s Tarot of the Abyss. As Tourian writes, “she knows it’s useless to try to go against the wind, so instead she harnesses it.” The figure gives me big Aphrodite/Venus vibes, as she is often depicted riding geese. The Chariot, with its emphasis on purposeful forward motion, is frequently linked to travel, and geese are rich with symbolism in this regard. They’re known for their dramatic seasonal migrations – who hasn’t marvelled at a honking gaggle of geese cutting a dramatic arrow’s V overhead? – and have long been associated with fertility and renewal. In ancient Egyptian mythology, the world was said to have begun when a Nile goose laid an egg that hatched the sun. When the geese return in spring, bringing longer days and warmer skies, they signal a turning point – a return to life. The Charioteer understands this deeply: brighter days are ahead, if she can just hold her nerve and keep going.

The Chariot in the Literary Tarot is based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, and the guide urges us to “propel yourself forward to your dreams”. It’s been a while (understatement – I was at school!) since I read Treasure Island, but I think this link works on so many levels (the more I work with the Literary Tarot, the more I love it). The character of Jim, the protagonist of Treasure Island, can be thought of very much in terms of the charioteer as I’ve described them here – he’s pulled between moral opposites: loyalty to his crew vs. his fascination with Long John Silver, childhood naivety vs. adult agency. And by the book’s conclusion he is able to claim his ‘happy ending’ not just through strength or luck, but through will.

Both the Hayworth Tarot and the Figuratively Speaking Tarot link the Chariot to train/tracks, which also works for me. The drawback of the Chariot is that, like a train travelling along the tracks, it presumes a commitment to a trajectory (unless we derail!) It’s not like a road trip where we can pull over, get lost, or follow a whim on a spontaneous adventure. But, as Meg Jones Wall explains that’s not the goal of the Chariot: “the goal of the Chariot is to expand in a practical; and controlled way, to make space for spiritual and emotional exploration with a clear expectation of returning home… [sometimes we] need to have a safe space to land, even after working so hard to build something new”. 

Also, B. Miller’s Chariot just really reminds me of the song ‘Crazy English Summer’ by Faithless, which is such a nostalgic track (heh) for me. The lyrics have that juxtaposition of assertive, almost warlike imagery, and gentle interior yearning; plus the strange paradox at the heart of this card: we’re moving fast, but is it growth? Is it transformation? Or are we just taking the train forward and back, home and away: “I think that I’m changing but I’m just the same“.

Fields of fire that pass the train
The sky is victorious, but here comes the rain
Friday is taking me home again
And I’ve nothing but you on my mind

Grass is greener without the pain
I think that I’m changing, but I’m just the same
My sun is ascending again
And I’ve nothing but you on my mind

‘Crazy English Summer’ by Faithless (Bentovim/Armstrong/Johnston)

My final tranche of cards look at my personal favourite ‘alternative’ chariot: the bicycle. As a cyclist myself (also often with a basket full of books like in the Slow Tarot!) I absolutely adore bike imagery, but to start with I wasn’t really sure how cycling tied to the meaning of the card. Especially in the Slow Tarot and the Heartscape Tarot, where the figures look like they’re just going for a nice relaxed evening ride. But, as with a skateboard, while riding a bike seems so easy, the mastery is actually hard. How many times do you topple over before you finally find the perfect balance? Then suddenly you are propelling this unlikely looking scrap of metal forward, by holding your body in equilibrium and willing yourself forward. You can be languid, relaxed almost, precisely because you are in control. The Slow Tarot is especially beautiful: the compass round her neck, shining her bike light into the gloaming. Steadfast and true, eyes on the prize.

I like Jamie Sawyer’s racing bike too – in a cycle race we are both the charioteer and the horses – and it is us who has to keep pushing the pedals through exhaustion, self-doubt, weather, and hills. In a way, I’ve now come to think a bike might be even more chariot-y than a chariot, lol. It’s spiritual discipline with pedals.

You were there at the turnstiles
With the wind at your heels
You stretched for the stars
And you know how it feels
To reach too high
Too far
Too soon

I was grounded
While you filled the skies
I was dumbfounded by truth
You cut through lies

I spoke about wings
You just flew
I wondered, I guessed, and I tried
You just knew

You climbed on the ladder
With the wind in your sails
You came like a comet
Blazing your trail
Too high
Too far
Too soon

‘The Whole Of The Moon’ by The Waterboys (Scott)

The Chariot FAQs

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Works Cited

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Cownie, J. & Lensvelt, F. (2022). Wild Card: Let the Tarot Tell Your Story. Bluebird.
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