AUTHOR’S NOTE: In common slang, failing to have “both oars in the water” carries a meaning similar to “not playing with a full deck,” but in tarot terms this nautical metaphor could imply rowing in circles, unable to find a direct route to one’s destination. Here I’m applying it to the conundrum of reversed cards that often appear in a reading unless we intentionally preclude them.

My thinking in this case is that reversal gives us only “half a loaf” to work with, which can translate into a low-yield opportunity that may not be worth the time and effort to pursue. For example, the Thoth 6 of Disks conveys success in material affairs, but its reversal (or other form of ill-dignity) can indicate being offered barely half of what we think we’re worth. Getting the rest may be like pulling teeth if we’re involved in a situation that neither tolerates nor rewards push-back.

Another impression comes from the Waite-Smith 6 of Pentacles, in which some tarot writers see the two apparent beggars as employees of the man with the scale, who is deciding how much to pay them for their labor. When the card is reversed, he could be constrained by business conditions that prevent him from being more generous, in which case the employees will be spinning their wheels financially rather than gaining ground. (I entertain a fanciful notion that the human figures in reversed cards are futilely waving their legs in the air with nothing solid to stand on, mimicking the “dying cockroach” pose.)

I’m not suggesting that we simply walk away from what appears to be a no-win scenario, but an informal cost/benefit consideration should be part of the analysis whenever we’re confronted with a reversed card. Can we get the voyage back on track with minimal effort by adjusting the rudder and altering our sweep? Should we return to shore and wait for a more favorable forecast rather than attempt to ride out stormy weather? Might we opt for sails over oars (that is, change our whole approach to the problem)? If the answer to all of these possibilities is unclear, it may be time to cut our losses and move on.

There is no rule that says reversal has to be a handicap. On the other hand, sports terminology includes the concept of the “broken play” that for one reason or another doesn’t unfold as intended, causing a mad scramble as the team tries to recover. I can see a reversed card playing out in a similar fashion, with the querent thrown into turmoil over the best way to cope. My goal as a reader should be to cut through the confusion by suggesting a different angle of attack (one of my favorite analogies for describing the implications of reversal), and I can also aid in charting a course that will bring the vessel about and steer it where it would have gone with greater certainty had the card been upright. That sort of thing comes with the territory for those who choose to use reversals in their readings. If the cards are going to raise the concern, we must be willing and able to assist our clients in putting it to bed.