AUTHOR’S NOTE: In one of my online tarot conversations I’ve once again fielded the perennial question about the need to use reversals in divination. My response was: “Many people insist that – depending on the context of the reading – they can squeeze contradictory intent out of the upright meaning of any favorable tarot card (like the old Prego spaghetti sauce commercial, ‘It’s in there’), but I say why work that hard when reversal offers a shortcut that can quickly bring adverse impressions to the surface.” In my approach, context shares the stage with the unique insights provided by reversed orientation.

Most of us are familiar with the act of “giving the side-eye,” a sneakier cousin to the full-frontal “eye-roll” and the even more blatant “stink-eye,” in which we look askance at something we don’t quite buy at face value. In tarot terms, one example would be encountering the classic “good card in a bad position” conundrum. The challenge is to come up with a less auspicious interpretation for what is customarily viewed as a positive influence. One way to handle it is to assume that the card’s effect will be innately upbeat but its difficult placement will take some of the “bloom off the rose,” requiring the querent to work just a little harder to acquire the benefit. (As an astrologer I’m reminded of the way sextile aspects operate: encouraging and cooperative but not entirely harmonious like trines; in other words, not a “slam-dunk.”)

I believe this interpretive hair-splitting becomes moot when that card is reversed. Any conceivable misfortune ascribed to the position that is also buried in the otherwise sanguine outlook for the card can be raised in visibility to become the centerpiece of the augury, although it won’t necessarily cancel the more fortunate aspects of the card, just dilute or qualify them. It necessitates rethinking our usual optimistic opinion of the card in ways that make its advantages less self-evident.

My favorite example of this is the Sun. As the benefactor of all life on Earth (except perhaps of night-stalkers, mushrooms and the anaerobic creatures at the bottom of the sea), it is generally considered the most positive card in the deck. To be precise, due to it’s invigorating radiance, it represents “good fortune” in most systems of esoteric thought, as well as in exoteric activities like weather-forecasting.) Its implicit downside is that too much sunshine is seldom a good thing: at the “micro” level it can overcome us with sunstroke, while at the “macro” level it can cause widespread drought and even desertification.

Reversal puts a slightly different spin on this expectation. While the Sun’s unblinking eye can reveal everything about a scenario (even those odious secrets we would rather keep hidden), when reversed its probing rays can be deflected away from the deepest, darkest corners where unpleasant things may be waiting to spring out and bite us when our back is turned. In these situations, “Don’t worry, be happy” is definitely not wise counsel. The best advice is to avoid being too sure of a net positive result, but rather keep our eyes wide open and watch our backside for creeping adversity without becoming neurotic about it. In an earlier essay I used the metaphor “hiding one’s light under a bushel” for the reversed condition of the Sun, but here I’m thinking we must first get it in there.

While diviners who don’t use reversal are likely to miss these subtle implications because they prefer to see any potential negativity as just a brief “passing cloud,” in my experience a reversed Sun is not to be trusted implicitly. As far as taking the Sun for granted, the lyrics of the Ten Years After song As the Sun Still Burns Away might be brought under advisement since finally facing up to the more persistent and typically more profound perspective that the Sun reversed in a “bad position” (a metaphorical “solar eclipse”) can deliver may be too late to make our peace with its “dark side” if we’ve ignored the shadows implied by the simple fact of reversal. In the latter case, it may not “forget to shine,” but it will surely be distracted.

A thousand cities in the night
Each one waiting for the light
Ten million people plan their day
As the sun still burns away

As the earth just spins in space
People plan their daily race
As the sun still burns away
Few say “Thank you for the day”

All the people in their ties
Forget to look up at the sky
They exist another day
As the sun still burns away

I wonder just how long we’ll last
When the final die is cast
Every day brings forth the time
When the sun forgets to shine