Number 55 carries the vibrations of adventure and versatility, curiosity, facing challenges, learning life lessons through experience, auspicious opportunities, idealism and activity, making positive life choices and important changes. (My note: The Fool in the Tarot, which just came up this morning as one of the energies that will be or are the staples of my financial wellbeing)
Angel Number 55 is a message from your angels(or guides, inner guidance, etc.) that it is time to let go of the ‘old’ that is no longer positively serving you, and get ready for big changes to take place in your life. Release old doubts, fears and perceived obstacles and look forward to wonderful new opportunities. (The Six of Swords that also turned up this morning as one of the staple energies that make up my financial well being. If the next paragraph turns out to mirror the Justice card I will pee my pants. Of course – I’m older – the odds of my peeing myself are very high at any given time anyway, so truthfully … that wouldn’t be any great spiritual guidance from above striking like lightning)
Angel Number 55 tells you to keep a positive attitude about the ‘new’ entering your life and keep an open mind as to the opportunities presenting to you. Keep in mind that everything happens for a reason and nothing happens by chance, so even though the reason/s for the changes may not be clear at this point, trust that all will fall into place for you. These changes have come about so that you can break free from old restraints and constraints and freely pursue your soul mission and life purpose as a spiritual being.
The angels ask that you cast off old shackles and constraints, be true to yourself and live your life with passion (one of the things that came up in my Fool card, actually all through all three cards, in the color red that presented in all three – “the energy that propels me”)and purpose(“the energy that propels me – propels ALL OF US).
Be prepared for huge changes when repeating Angel Number 55 appears.
Number 55 also relates to number 1 (5+5=10, 1+0=1) and Angel Number 1. (I hadn’t thought about this or even been aware of doubling the number and then seeing what that comes down to.)
My Gematria expert friend no longer has her blog on WordPress; I need to get into my email and track her down!
The fives in my bank balance were flanked by two “2”s.
I guess Drama is just what I associate with the Ten of Swords, because I’m reminded of it again while listening to Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens.
And at some point I”m going to have to explore why there are so many swords in Great Expectations. So far – swords cards are all I”m reminded of. No other suits. Just swords. And I’ve got another post coming on a Nine of Swords connection now too!
In this scene Pip’s sister is working her way up into a hysteria, and according to Pip it’s VERY calculated the entire way through. Having been in similar situations, I will defend her and say it’s more likely she’s NOT as in control of herself as Pip thinks, and most likely is standing in the back of her own head, helpless to stop the momentum. In any case, still a decent example of drama for it’s own sake.
(spacing / paragraph length differences and italics are my own to highlight the text)
***
Taken from Chapter 15 of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens:
My sister had been standing silent in the yard, within hearing – she was a most unscrupulous spy and listener – and she instantly looked in at one of the windows.
‘Like you, you fool!’ said she to Joe, ‘giving holidays to great idle hulkers like that. You are a rich man, upon my life, to waste wages in that way. I wish I was his master!’
‘You’d be everybody’s master, if you durst,’ retorted Orlick, with an ill-favoured grin.
(“Let her alone,’ said Joe.)
‘I’d be a match for all noodles and all rogues,’ returned my sister, beginning to work herself into a mighty rage. ‘And I couldn’t be a match for the noodles, without being a match for your master, who’s the dunder-headed king of the noodles. And I couldn’t be a match for the rogues, without being a match for you, who are the blackest-looking and the worst rogue between this and France. Now!’
‘You’re a foul shrew, Mother Gargery, growled the journeyman. ‘If that makes a judge of rogues, you ought to be a good’un.’
(“Let her alone, will you?’ said Joe.)
‘What did you say?’ cried my sister, beginning to scream. ‘What did you say? What did that fellow Orlick say to me, Pip? What did he call me, with my husband standing by? O! O! O!’ Each of these exclamations was a shriek; and I must remark of my sister, what is equally true of all the violent women I have ever seen, that passion was no excuse for her, because it is undeniable that instead of lapsing into passion, she consciously and deliberately took extraordinary pains to force herself into it, and became blindly furious by regular stages; ‘what was the name he gave me before the base man who swore to defend me? O! Hold me! O!’
‘Ah-h-h!’ growled the journeyman, between his teeth, ‘I’d hold you, if you was my wife. I’d hold you under the pump, and choke it out of you.’
(“I tell you, let her alone,’ said Joe.)
‘Oh! To hear him!’ cried my sister, with a clap of her hands and a scream together -which was her next stage. ‘To hear the names he’s giving me! That Orlick! In my own house! Me, a married woman! With my husband standing by! O! O!’ Here my sister, after a fit of clappings and screamings, beat her hands upon her bosom and upon her knees, and threw her cap off, and pulled her hair down – which were the last stages on her road to frenzy. Being by this time a perfect Fury and a complete success, she made a dash at
the door, which I had fortunately locked.
What could the wretched Joe do now, after his disregarded parenthetical interruptions, but stand up to his journeyman, and ask him what he meant by interfering betwixt himself and Mrs. Joe; and further whether he was man enough to come on? Old Orlick felt that the situation admitted of nothing less than coming on, and was on his defense
straightway; so, without so much as pulling off their singed and burnt aprons, they went at one another, like two giants. But, if any man in that neighbourhood could stand up long against Joe, I never saw the man. Orlick, as if he had been of no more account than the pale young gentleman, was very soon among the coal-dust, and in no hurry to come out of it. Then, Joe unlocked the door and picked up my sister, who had dropped insensible at the window (but who had seen the fight first, I think), and who was carried into the house and laid down, and who was recommended to revive, and would do nothing but struggle and clench her hands in Joe’s hair. Then, came that singular calm and silence which succeed all uproars; and then, with the vague sensation which I have always connected with such a lull – namely, that it was Sunday, and somebody was dead – I went up-stairs to dress myself.
When I came down again, I found Joe and Orlick sweeping up, without any other traces of discomposure than a slit in one of Orlick’s nostrils, which was neither expressive nor ornamental. A pot of beer had appeared from the Jolly Bargemen, and they were sharing it by turns in a peaceable manner. The lull had a sedative and philosophical influence on Joe, who followed me out into the road to say, as a parting observation that might do me good, ‘On the Rampage, Pip, and off the Rampage, Pip – such is Life!’
When I started learning to read Tarot, it was with the Sacred Circle deck by Anna Franklin and Paul Mason, and the primary keyword they chose to go with the card is
“Diplomacy.”
Franklin and Mason advise tact and diplomacy in dealing with situations if this card appears. In essence, to choose your words wisely in order to convey the illusion you wish to be believed. This scene from the novel Great Expectations by Charles Dickens reminds me of the Seven of Swords because it’s like Diplomacy Run Amuck!
Poor Joe Gargery is out of his element in this scene, and copes the only way he knows how, which is to fling every high sounding word and phrase he can think of around to use a lot of words to say very little real content. Kind of like the Dark Side of Writing. Joe is also trying to hide that he feels inadequate to the task at hand … like an animal puffing itself up to appear larger than it really is when it’s threatened. That’s where the tie to the traditional meaning of this card is – to
Deception
and
Acting Strategically.
***
And now for the Seen of Swords scene:
Sacred Circle Tarot by Anna Franklin and Paul Mason
‘You are the husband,’ repeated Miss Havisham, ‘of the sister of this boy?’
It was very aggravating; but, throughout the interview Joe persisted in addressing Me instead of Miss Havisham.
‘Which I meantersay, Pip,’ Joe now observed in a manner that was at once expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great politeness, ‘as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time what you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man.’
‘Well!’ said Miss Havisham. ‘And you have reared the boy, with the intention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?’
‘You know, Pip,’ replied Joe, ‘as you and me were ever friends, and it were looked for’ard to betwixt us, as being calc’lated to lead to larks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever made objections to the business – such as its being open to black and sut, or such-like – not but what they would have been attended to, don’t you see?’
‘Has the boy,’ said Miss Havisham, ‘ever made any objection? Does he like the trade?’
‘Which it is well beknown to yourself, Pip,’ returned Joe, strengthening his former mixture of argumentation, confidence, and politeness, ‘that it were the wish of your own hart.’ (I saw the idea suddenly break upon him that he would adapt his epitaph to the occasion, before he went on to say) ‘And there weren’t no objection on your part, and Pip it were the great wish of your heart!’
It was quite in vain for me to endeavour to make him sensible that he ought to speak to Miss Havisham. The more I made faces and gestures to him to do it, the more confidential, argumentative, and polite, he persisted in being to Me.
‘Have you brought his indentures with you?’ asked Miss Havisham.
‘Well, Pip, you know,’ replied Joe, as if that were a little unreasonable, ‘you yourself see me put ‘em in my ‘at, and therefore you know as they are here.’ With which he took them out, and gave them, not to Miss Havisham, but to me. I am afraid I was ashamed of the dear good fellow – I know I was ashamed of him – when I saw that Estella stood at the back of Miss Havisham’s chair, and that her eyes laughed mischievously. I took the indentures out of his hand and gave them to Miss Havisham.
‘You expected,’ said Miss Havisham, as she looked them over, ‘no premium with the boy?’
‘Joe!’ I remonstrated; for he made no reply at all. ‘Why don’t you answer—‘
‘Pip,’ returned Joe, cutting me short as if he were hurt, ‘which I meantersay that were not a question requiring a answer betwixt yourself and me, and which you know the answer to be full well No. You know it to be No, Pip, and wherefore should I say it?’
Miss Havisham glanced at him as if she understood what he really was, better than I had thought possible, seeing what he was there; and took up a little bag from the table beside her.
F.A. Fraser – An illustration for the Household Edition of Dickens’s Great Expectations (p. 48). Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham
‘Pip has earned a premium here,’ she said, ‘and here it is. There are five-and-twenty guineas in this bag. Give it to your master, Pip.’
As if he were absolutely out of his mind with the wonder awakened in him by her strange figure and the strange room, Joe, even at this pass, persisted in addressing me.
‘This is wery liberal on your part, Pip,’ said Joe, ‘and it is as such received and grateful welcome, though never looked for, far nor near nor nowheres. And now, old chap,’ said Joe, conveying to me a sensation, first of burning and then of freezing, for I felt as if that familiar expression were applied to Miss Havisham; ‘and now, old chap, may we do our duty! May you and me do our duty, both on us by one and another, and by them which your liberal present – have – conweyed – to be – for the satisfaction of mind – of – them as never—’ here Joe showed that he felt he had fallen into frightful difficulties, until he triumphantly rescued himself with the words, ‘and from myself far be it!’ These words had such a round and convincing sound for him that he said them twice.
taken from Chapter 13 of Great Expectations
***
To learn more about the traditional meanings of the Seven of Swords, click here: www.biddytarot.com.
When I had exhausted the garden, and a greenhouse with nothing in it but a fallen-down grape-vine and some bottles, I found myself in the dismal corner upon which I had looked out of the window. Never questioning for a moment that the house was now empty, I looked in at another window, and found myself, to my great surprise, exchanging a broad stare with a pale young gentleman with red eyelids and light hair.
This pale young gentleman quickly disappeared, and re-appeared beside me. He had been at his books when I had found myself staring at him, and I now saw that he was
inky.
‘Halloa!’ said he, ‘young fellow!’
Halloa being a general observation which I had usually observed to be best answered by itself, I said, ‘Halloa!’ politely omitting young fellow.
‘Who let you in?’ said he.
‘Miss Estella.’
‘Who gave you leave to prowl about?’
‘Miss Estella.’
‘Come and fight,’ said the pale young gentleman.
What could I do but follow him? I have often asked myself the question since: but, what else could I do? His manner was so final and I was so astonished, that I followed where he led, as if I had been under a spell.
‘Stop a minute, though,’ he said, wheeling round before we had gone many paces. ‘I ought to give you a reason for fighting, too. There it is!’ In a most irritating manner he instantly slapped his hands against one another, daintily flung one of his legs up behind him, pulled my hair, slapped his hands again, dipped his head, and butted it into my stomach.
The bull-like proceeding last mentioned, besides that it was unquestionably to be regarded in the light of a liberty, was particularly disagreeable just after bread and meat.
I therefore hit out at him and was going to hit out again, when he said, ‘Aha! Would you?’ and began dancing backwards and forwards in a manner quite unparalleled within my limited experience.
‘Laws of the game!’ said he. Here, he skipped from his left leg on to his right. ‘Regular rules!’ Here, he skipped from his right leg on to his left. ‘Come to the ground, and go through the preliminaries!’ Here, he dodged backwards and forwards, and did all sorts of things while I looked helplessly at him.
I was secretly afraid of him when I saw him so dexterous; but, I felt morally and physically convinced that his light head of hair could have had no business in the pit of my stomach, and that I had a right to consider it irrelevant when so obtruded on my attention. Therefore, I followed him without a word, to a retired nook of the garden, formed by the junction of two walls and screened by some rubbish. On his asking me if I was satisfied with the ground, and on my replying Yes, he begged my leave to absent himself for a moment, and quickly returned with a bottle of water and a sponge dipped in vinegar. ‘Available for both,’ he said, placing these against the wall. And then fell to pulling off, not only his jacket and waistcoat, but his shirt too, in a manner
at once light-hearted, businesslike, and bloodthirsty.
Although he did not look very healthy – having pimples on his face, and a breaking out at his mouth – these dreadful preparations quite appalled me. I judged him to be about my own age, but he was much taller, and he had a way of spinning himself about that was full of appearance. For the rest, he was a young gentleman in a grey suit (when not denuded for battle), with his elbows, knees, wrists, and heels, considerably in advance of the rest of him as to development.
My heart failed me when I saw him squaring at me with every demonstration of mechanical nicety, and eyeing my anatomy as if he were minutely choosing his bone. I never have been so surprised in my life, as I was when I let out the first blow, and saw him lying on his back, looking up at me with a bloody nose and his face exceedingly fore-shortened.
But, he was on his feet directly, and after sponging himself with a great show of dexterity began squaring again. The second greatest surprise I have ever had in my life was
seeing him on his back again, looking up at me out of a black eye.
His spirit inspired me with great respect. He seemed to have no strength, and he never once hit me hard, and he was always knocked down; but, he would be up again in a moment, sponging himself or drinking out of the waterbottle, with the greatest satisfaction in seconding himself according to form, and then came at me with an air and a show that made me believe he really was going to do for me at last. He got heavily bruised, for I am sorry to record that the more I hit him, the harder I hit him; but, he came up again and again and again, until at last he got a bad fall with the back of his head against the wall. Even after that crisis in our affairs, he got up and turned round and round confusedly a few times, not knowing where I was; but finally went on his knees to his sponge and threw it up: at the same time panting out, ‘That means you have won.’
He seemed so brave and innocent, that although I had not proposed the contest I felt but a gloomy satisfaction in my victory. Indeed, I go so far as to hope that I regarded myself while dressing, as a species of savage young wolf, or other wild beast. However, I got dressed, darkly wiping my sanguinary face at intervals, and I said, ‘Can I help you?’
and he said ‘No thankee,’ and I said ‘Good afternoon,’ and he said ‘Same to you.’
Dickens, Charles. Great Expectations. New York: Dodd, Mead, 1942. Print.
Waite, Arthur E.. “Radiant Rider-Waite Tarot Deck.” Smith, Pamela C., Designer,
(Reissued in collaboration with Miss Sybil Waite and Rider & Company, London),
U.S. Games Systems, Inc., 2003, Stamford, CN.
This card may surprise you, because its not a card traditionally associated with feelings of conflict. That being said, its a card I have come to personally associate with those things. I think I first interpreted it this way for a client’s reading, but then later realized it applies to me with regard to certain things in my psyche as well.
Radiant Rider Waite
It’s because of the conflict between the horse and its rider, the Knight. The horse is more than ready to go; the Knight not so much. The Knight is reining the horse in. The horse is fighting it.
In my personal life, this applies to my journey through healing and learning to work around and work with, PTSD from various sources. And even to normal grief work. I tend to want things to be accomplished faster than they sometimes can. And when I push myself too hard or too fast, it backlashes on me and I end up struggling unnecessarily. I am learning to maintain a better balance in that.
Some interesting imagery in the Rider Waite version of this card, which is the deck and the card I am basing this interpretation on, is the desert sand the Knight is traveling. Perhaps the horse is eager to get where he is going because the land is so barren here. Maybe he wants to get to where things can be planted, and grow, rather than just be moved through. But what the horse maybe doesn’t realize, is that all that barren brownness is also soothing to the eye and thus to the mind as well. Because there’s nothing to be done there but just keep moving, and appreciating the moment … there’s no additional stress to be endured. It’s just a relaxing walk or journey. Or can be, if permitted. Maybe they need to REST more than they need to DO.
Perhaps this is just an area of land that happens to be part of the journey to where the Knight and horse want to go, and it just has to be tolerated in order to get there. And there’s no use fighting it.
There’s also the point that, in a desert, where water can be far and few between, it’s probably a better idea to pace oneself rather than gallop full out and then fall down exhausted with nothing left and still far from water and rest. It is possible the Knight knows this and the horse needs to just trust him. Or at least trust his higher knowledge.
The Knight is carrying his wand with new growth in it. He’s got what he needs for when he gets where he is going. And the Orion pyramids are behind him, watching over his journey. Maybe he doesn’t need to rush so much. Maybe Time is exactly what is needed, and the desert affords and gifts that to them.
When I pull this card in answer to what’s going on with my Depression, Anxiety, or PTSD, it’s usually a call to slow down and stop pushing myself too hard or fast. And to not fall into the trap of thinking I have to take all action RIGHT NOW. To remember that it’s okay to let things unfold in their own time. To remember that I’m safer than I feel I am.
That there will be plenty of time later, to be here:
And later, here:
And finally, here:
(I find it interesting that two of these knights are facing left, (the past? Left brain?) … and two are facing to the right. The two hell bent on running are the ones facing the left and the two controlled, measured ones are the ones facing the right.
But that’s for another whole blog post.)
Thoughts welcome from you readers out there! And what does the Knight of Wands mean the most, to YOU?
So I”m upstairs on my hands and knees (not as exciting as it first sounds) scrubbing away at the Revenge Pooper’s (a whollllllle OTHER blogpost!) latest “SPOT” on the rug …
And I’m NOT happy about it.
This is like his 10th non-acccident.
I hate my house, family, pets, and life.
Fuck My Life, btw.
I stop to take a break and text my girlfriend of forty years Tamara Perrin Florea in Ohio.
“Do you ever wonder if maybe we are ghosts and that’s why no matter how much we clean, or how many times we clean the same thing, it never gets clean, ever? It just stays messy? If we are ghosts that would also explain why no one (kids, husbands, pets, whoever you have around you) ever HEARS us too! Maybe we’ve died but just don’t know it because cleaning is all we know and we don’t know how to stop???”
Radiant Rider Waite
This, my friends, is the Ten of Swords energy.
The Ten of Swords can be about death and endings, but sometimes it’s just about so much drama, or so much more drama than is necessary.
Please note the TEN swords this person has been stabbed in the back with, as opposed to the ONE that would have done the trick just as easily!
So the next time you’re doing something you despise doing and you feel really, really, sorry for yourself and bitter about doing it?
You’re communing with this Tarot card’s energy!
Disclaimer: no humans were hurt during this blog post, and I felt better the minute I texted my girlfriend. I felt so good I left the rest of the nefarious “spot” for another day, bought some moscato coolers, and called it a day!
Fiery K. Tarot 