AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here is another take on the phenomenon of reversed cards in a tarot reading, this time inspired by the interpretation of a reversed court card from Paul Fenton-Smith’s Tarot Master-Class. The male subject was described as being disconnected from expressing the characteristics of the upright orientation, and the impression was of being barred from access to the qualities of personality usually exhibited by the type. Another way to look at it is that he “went off-script.”

To be disconnected from something means to be separated or distanced from it in ways that diminish awareness of its condition. Although the example was limited to a specific court card, I see no reason why it can’t be expanded to the entire deck. This could play out in either positive or negative ways. At its most favorable, gaining a little distance from the action can introduce a measure of perspective to the occasion and grant us some maneuvering room that is undetectable when our nose is shoved right up against it. Less favorably, being decoupled from any sense of ownership in the matter can invite looking the other way (or “zigging when we should zag”), thus exposing us to being blindsided by circumstances.

I see reversal as generally fortunate when introspection is called for since it tends to engage the inner faculties of contemplation and deliberation and doesn’t force an immediate decision on us. But if some kind of prompt action is indicated by the nature of a card, its reversal can deflect us from “pulling the trigger” and therefore leave us unprepared for any unforeseen consequences that follow in its wake.

I don’t subscribe to the notion that reversal of a difficult card makes it even slightly less onerous in any way, it just changes the vector of its arrival to be less apparent and therefore less-easily intercepted. Unlike the aim of the old TV Western posses, “heading ’em off at the pass” isn’t always feasible since they will invariably find an alternate route to sneak up on us. Most of the time it’s prudent to envision the worst that could arise from a challenging card but angle for the best that can be made of the situation, mainly by focusing on the overarching energy of the spread as a whole and relegating any nuances of individual alignment to a supporting role.

Reversal won’t make a “bad card better” although it can further complicate the scenario, but it also won’t entirely negate the virtues of a “good” card, only taking a little of the luster off its optimistic promise. We will still get the “golden apple” but we must be alert for any concealed worm it harbors. On balance, we could say that “reversed bad” is no less bad while “reversed good” is not quite as good as upright, but neither one is definitive to the exclusion of more fundamental considerations.

There is no reason to overreact in either direction based solely on orientation; it should be treated as nothing more than additional decision-making input of the “How far should I stick my neck out?” variety. In general, reversal of a good card favors discretion over nonchalance but does not in itself threaten hardship, while reversal of a bad one is cautionary in that it suggests being “boxed in” with decreased “wiggle room” available. But, as always, we must remain connected to our vision of where we’re headed, and that should be the purview of the baseline narrative regardless of supplemental inferences that allude to disarray.