The Tens
Here, we are, at the end. Much like at The World at the end of the Major Arcana, the Tens are the final culmination of their respective suits. They are the essential themes, energies, thoughts, and emotions for each of the suits, brought to their logical conclusion. This means that in a way, the Tens are really the whole summation of the entirety of the Minor Arcana’s four suits.
Numerologically, there are many ways to see the number ten, but for me, ten is nine plus one, so this puts us at a point where we are concluding the stories and journeys told in each of the suits, starting with the Aces, and reaching their apex with the nines. Nine plus one means that with this, we are starting over again, going back to the start of the cycle to begin the journey once more. It is the apex of the suits (nine), plus a bridge back to the beginning (one). This gives the tens of the Minor Arcana a link to The World, which represents the same relationship between Judgement (twenty) and The Fool and the Magician (zero plus one). Because of this, the tens and the aces appearing together in a reading can be a very powerful sign pointing to endings, renewal, and the start of something pushing forward into the future, built upon the lessons learned from the past. In the cycle of the suits of the Minor Arcana, the ace comes after ten. That’s why for me, it’s especially helpful to discuss and contrast the tens in the context of the aces.
The Ace of Swords is often taken to mean the genesis of a new idea, or the birth of a wholly novel way of thinking, or the start of an important conversation.
This means then, that the Ten of Swords represents its ending.
For many, The Ten of Swords is one of the most brutal and scariest cards by far in all of the Smith-Waite tarot. There is no other card which depicts a human figure in this way. We do see the trampled body of the king in Death, but that person’s death seems quite clean and tame compared to the person in this card. Sure a skeleton can be scary, especially in Death as depicted in the Tarot de Marseilles, but the severed head and limbs scattering the landscape under the skeleton’s scythe seem abstract to my eyes. In contrast there is something about the body seen in the Ten of Swords, laying in a pool of their own blood, which is all too visceral and raw. Their intact body, their pose on the ground, and position of the swords, stabbed into their body all along what looks like their spine, makes this image feel very physically real.
Maybe it’s because we understand the visual image of the skeletal grim reaper as a purely symbolic one in our current society, whereas, in our day and age of twenty-four hour televised news, YouTube and Google, it is far too easy to see images of scenes like this card happening right now in our world today. Whether it is the innocent victims of a terrorist attack, the collateral damage of a drone strike, or the naked aggression of institutional violence against marginalized people, the effect is the same. Compared with the footage of deaths of impoverished people in the Philippines under President Duterte’s bloody war against drugs, or the deaths of civilians from missile attacks on Gaza, the Ten of Swords is recognizable, but no less shocking to our modern, twenty-first century eyes.
The Ten of Swords is the end of the conversation. It’s when you flat-out refuse to engage with the aphobe you meet on Facebook, or the Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist/“Gender Critical” person on Twitter, or the anti-Aspec gatekeeper on the Asexual Visibility and Education Network forums. It’s when you decide to stop talking to your aphobic, aunt, uncle, grandparent or sibling, beyond the absolute bare minimum required to escape uncomfortable family scrutiny. It’s you cutting off a parent entirely for their inability to see the legacy of abuse that you’ve inherited from them. Or it may be the last time you ever see or speak to an ex-partner.
The Ten of Swords is also the end of an idea. It’s when you finally put an end to an assumption, a thought process, a perspective, or a mindset that you’ve held tightly to for so long. Maybe it’s the final nail in the coffin of your allosexual cisgendered heterosexual normativity. Maybe it’s the realization that your asexuality wasn’t what you originally thought it was. Maybe it’s the realization that you could be attracted to more than one gender, if you met someone with whom you could form the perfect kind of connection for you (which is of course, a great big galaxy-sized “if”).
This flips the whole traditional and common conception of the Ten of Swords on its head. We see the figure with the swords in their back and automatically think of ourselves suffering a similarly gruesome fate. But let us ask ourselves: Did something put those swords into us, or is this scene the result of us putting those swords into something else in our life? Why did we put all of those swords in that person? And what did that person represent in our lives?
Much like with Death, the Ten of Swords teaches us that we can only open up our mind to new ways of thinking, and new pathways of growth and change once we let go of our old ways of thought, and let them pass. But sometimes, instead of letting our old ways of thinking fade away, we must kill them — metaphorically of course. This ties in so well with the Ace of Swords, which can represent a razor sharp cut slicing through the stultifying blockage of a situation’s intellectual complexity. This signifies a cutting away of the distractions and mental fog that comes with a jumble of unhealthy and unproductive thoughts about ourselves: the voices inside each and every one of us that demean, devalue and debase us. These are the thoughts and ideas that need to die if we are to continue growing and developing in a healthy and sustainable way.
Continuing this is the theme of the Ten of Wands, a fitting sequel to the themes of persistence and perseverance seen in the Nine of Wands. If seeing the Ten of Swords makes us recoil in fear over our impending doom, then the Ten of Wands must make us recoil in fear over our impending next day at work.
If the Ace of Wands is us starting on the path of creating something new, then the Ten of Wands is us realizing that we’ve taken on too much. The idiom “having bitten off more than we could chew” isn’t just cute hyperbole; it’s a critical understatement. Maybe it’s us starting a book or a large writing project about asexuality or aromantism, and realizing that the topic may be too big for us to tackle in the way we originally thought. Maybe it’s us giving so much of our own energy, time, and resources to other ace and aro friends or groups in our lives (or others in our general social circles), but not having the energy, time and resources for ourselves too. At this point we’re left with an interesting choice: to keep on persisting — after all the city we are heading to is not far off in the distance — or to stop, put our sticks on the ground, and figure out how to carry them to the city, bit by bit. Maybe we can bring them all to the city…all it takes is just a proper boot up our backside, and a mental refocusing on our goals to send us back on our way. Maybe, despite our best efforts, we try to carry all ten sticks on our back, only to see them tumbling to the ground and potentially breaking when we collapse and fall.
For creative ace and aro people, the temptation to start a new project or a new artistic endeavour can be tantalizing. For example, as a life-long writer, I know I have a litany of ideas on things to write or create to express my experiences as a demisexual, who is biromantic, and a survivor of both parental and relationship abuse. (And someone who has sadly hurt others too.) For those who have more nurturing natures, the temptation to help out just one more fellow queer abuse survivor we meet on social media with a two thousand word email (or a several hour-long talk on Skype or Facebook Messenger) can be palpable. For other ace and aro folk, it can be so easy to take on one more duty or responsibility at work, or with our family. But to get back to the Ace of Wands — and start something that we know we will actually finish in a satisfying and fulfilling way — we have to rethink our working or artistic process. We have to finish what we’re doing here and now first. We also have to rethink the value of the tasks and projects we are carrying with us now. Whether it be seeing our current projects or duties through to the end, or by admitting the need to lay down and let go of a few responsibilities, we have to focus on completing the tasks we have on our plate now.
The Ten of Cups is one of the cards that gives us an idea how rewarding it can be once we have persevered and seen things through to the end. This card is so bright and cheerful that it rivals The Sun in terms of sheer power of positivity. Having reached the end of our creative and intellectual development, we are in a state of personal paradise. Where other cards like the Nine of Pentacles or the Nine of Cups encourage us to safely and healthily enjoy the fruits of our extensive labours, the Ten of Cups bid us to welcome others into our joy, laughter and celebration. Echoing the presence of multiple generations of people in the Ten of Pentacles, the party happening in the Ten of Cups includes old and new, and youth and elder alike.
And the rainbow — how could anyone ignore that, and how could we do anything but interpret that in a queer way? This may be a party that we as ace and aro people worked towards, but it is open and welcoming to all of our queer comrades, monosexual and non-monosexual alike. As Shiri Eisner points out in her book Bi: Notes for a Bisexual Revolution, overturning the restrictive societal structures which reinforce rigid, and toxic views of sexuality doesn’t just benefit Bisexuals…it benefits all queer people, and all straight, normatively monosexual and cisgendered heterosexual people as well. I firmly believe the same holds true for asexuals, aromantics and their struggle against amatonormative views on relationships and sexuality. The work that ace and aro people do to help overturn and dismantle amatonormative views ultimately helps the queer community as a whole, and straight allosexual people too. The work we’ve undertaken and ultimately concluded in the Ten of Wands and the Ten of Swords has paid off, not just for us, but for everyone in our families and friends, and community. What’s not to celebrate, then?
From the present joy of the Ten of Cups, we have to also keep an eye turned to the promise and possibility of the future; this is where the Ten of Pentacles comes into play. A visually busy card, the Ten of Pentacles is the Ace of Pentacles far in the future. We started off with only one pentacle, and we have invested that one pentacle — in ourselves, but also in our relationships, and endeavours — and we have now, with a matured investment, seen that initial seed money grow tenfold.
But the Ten of Pentacles goes far beyond the establishment of abundance seen in the Nine of Pentacles. It is your personal legacy, and the inheritance you will leave behind for the generations that come after you (whether they be monetary or something else entirely). Where the Nine of Pentacles says, “Enjoy your abundance”, the Ten of Pentacles asks, “Who will you share your abundance with? How will your abundance make an impact on the future?” It is you working to be a tangible example of asexuality, aromanticness or being someone identifying on that spectrum that acts as a powerful model for younger or newer asexuals and aromantics to potentially follow. It could be you not just enjoying your experience being in a healthy relationship with a loving partner (and/or a polycule), but sharing your hard-won experience and advice to give to other asexuals, aromantics, and ace/aro people who are struggling with dating and relationships themselves. It is easy to overlook and discount how invaluable our own experiences can be to others. But in the current landscape, all too often, people come to asexuality not knowing how to navigate their new sexual identity in their day-to-day lives and relationships, whether it be with friends, family or partners. Because of the all too common association of asexuality and aromanticism with people who are young, female, and white, we need more older ace and aro people, more ace and aro men (including trans men and masculine-presenting non-binary aces and aros), more BIPOC aces and aros, and more disabled and neurodivergent ace and aro people boldly lending their voices to the community, especially in popular media and social media.
In other words, we need more ace and aro people stepping up and acting as elder figures to show us the full breadth and depth of the diversity present in the ace and aro community: Not just for the state of the community in the present, but to push forward and inspire the next generation of people entering the community in the future. Maybe our legacy won’t involve statues or trophies, or a leading credit on a YouTube video, or a book on a store shelf, or an article in a major media outlet. But if we encounter person on social media, or in our day-to-day lives, who can say, “thank you for speaking up for people like me”, or “thank you for informing me”, then that’s as good a legacy as any statue or plaque.
And with that, comes the end to our journey on the Minor Arcana. But like with the Major Arcana, it is the end to but one narrative arc in the grand story of our lives, and with every ending comes a new beginning, a new chapter to write and explore. As the website Aeclectic Tarot says about the tens:
“These cards are about what completes that turn of the wheel, getting it back to “1” and yet carrying with it all that it has experienced through those other numbers on its way round the circle.”
The Wheel of Fortune in the Major Arcana carries the key of Ten (“X”) and seeing ourselves on the eternal circle is to see us continuing the cycle of bringing chapters of our stories to an end, only be given a fresh page to start a new chapter: A new chapter of growth, self-discovery, and development. We’ve climbed this mountain, and after summiting the peak we can see so many more mountains to ascend: More creative projects to realize, more inner work to accomplish, more relationships to nurture, or mend. So many new glorious challenges to meet. Time to turn that wheel again. See you on the other side.
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Next: Introduction: The Court Cards
