Following on from yesterday, where the reversed Chariot seemed to be advising against trying to control everything through force of will and just let go, the Two of Pentacles reversed seems to suggest that maybe you should stop and consider the nature and number of the tasks you take on, because either you can’t cope or, if you can, it’s not a very pleasant experience.
The Two of Pentacles is a juggler in an unstable world. The ground directly underneath the juggler’s feet may be solid, but just behind the sea is roiling like a perfect storm. To compensate, the juggler shifts balance to keep the pentacles in the air. The cosmic lemniscate suggests this is not a temporary situation.
Yet the juggler seems to be enjoying the activity, and quite able to move with the flow. And that is as it should be, right? We live in the moment, and ideally we come into harmony with that, along with an appreciation and a love of the process of living each moment. When we dwell on crossing the finish line, (wherever that is) or completion of the task we lose out on being in the moment. We might even perceive the process as an obstacle, and thereby miss out on so much of life. When is the juggling done? When there is nothing left to juggle I suppose, or no juggler to do the juggling.
But what happens when someone becomes aware of those moments and the processes worked within them, then realizes that the experiences in those moments do not serve them, they are not a good match? From an early age we are taught which balls to juggle and how many. We are taught how and when to juggle them. Many are taught that they are inferior if they cannot juggle the same balls in the same way as others.
Then there is the indoctrination into a reward system of what to expect for juggling well, often by people who never fully reaped those rewards but are perpetuating their own indoctrination. The focus is placed so much on reward that one manages to block or become numb to the moment in favour of some imagined delayed gratification, as though now was the illusion and later was the reality, even though the opposite is true. Then one day you wake up and realize that you’re juggling somebody else’s balls, and not enjoying it very much.
(I think I’ve squeezed the last drop out of that analogy, don’t you?)
As wise people keep saying, if you don’t like the journey you probably won’t like the destination. In this life, I believe the journey is the destination. The juggler is content because he enjoys what he’s doing. He chose it, he owns it, it is what he wants. Maybe it’s time for you to take a good, hard look at your … process. If it doesn’t serve you, what can you do to change it?