One would anticipate, from the term “runic-tarot,” that Tenebrous divination has features in common with both those systems. The tarot side of the influence is the current post’s focus. Tenebrous divination is like tarot in that its omens contain a fourfold division evoking the four classical elements. But it is unlike tarot with regard to which element is assigned to each “suit.” This post will thus discuss elemental symbolism in the Tenebrous runic-tarot – and also in tarot more generally.

Introduction

This entry presumes an academic history of tarot. I do not believe tarot encoded an ancient Egyptian esoteric work, or originated among the “gypsies,” or any similar folklore. Rather, a secular Renaissance card game, after falling into obscurity, was rediscovered and turned into an esoteric tool by enthusiasts. Admitting this need subtract nothing from the validity or efficacy of the tool, however. My take is a Chaos Magician’s take: at some point, people made up meanings for tarot symbolism; other people will subsequently make up other interpretations. Accordingly, I find arguments about “original” or “true” correspondences to be completely pointless. “True” in this context is just whatever works for you in your own practice.

Nonetheless, I do find it interesting to explore the esoteric reasoning behind the symbolism that traditions settle upon. In tarot’s case, why this element for this suit of the minor arcana? And if I prefer something else, what logic lies behind my symbolism? Such are the questions this post will explore.

I’ll begin by reviewing the most widely-recognized elemental associations of the minor arcana. I’ll then shift to an examination of the elemental associations I use, and why they are different. I’m not thus claiming that my version is “a correction”. I claim only that the Tenebrous associations evoke certain nuances of Satanic spirituality more effectively than the previously-established ones. I gravitate toward it for this reason – and share it anticipating others walking a similar path may feel likewise.

The default elemental symbolism of the minor arcana of the tarot

Contemporary tarot traditions are disproportionately impacted by the tradition of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Two of the most well-known tarot decks, the Smith-Waite and the Crowley Thoth deck, both evince this influence. Many other tarot decks take cues from these in turn. The elemental associations thus inherited are:

• Wands = fire
• Cups = water
• Swords = air
• Discs = earth

It’s interesting to note that the consistency of this extends beyond the associations themselves to the order they’re presented in. My impression is that this order follows directly from the Golden Dawn’s fascination with Kabbalah. Thus:

• Wands are associated with the highest Kabbalistic world of azilut. Azilut is pure divine energy. Abrahamic tradition envisions this ultimate force as masculine, and light and fire are among its long-established representations.
• Cups are associated with the upper-middle Kabbalistic world of beriah. Beriah is God’s creative providence, entailing care for creation and the placing of things into relationship with one another. At this level, the masculine is complemented by the feminine in order that co-creation may proceed. And if fire is masculine, it makes sense to posit water as its feminine counterpart.
• Swords are associated with the lower-middle Kabbalistic world of yetzirah. Yetzirah is the level of distinction-making, conceptually separating one individual being from another. Air represents this individuating space-that-separates.
• Discs are associated with the lowest Kabbalistic world of asiyah. Asiyah is actual physical incarnation. So it makes obvious sense to assign earth here.

The sequence as a whole is suggestive of the soul’s descent into matter. The corollary is that this progression must be reversed in order to ascend back to our original divinity. The progression thus evokes something of a Neoplatonic and/or Gnostic worldview.

Variation re: the assignment of air and fire to minor arcana suits

I’ve never encountered tarot decks in which cups weren’t water, and seldom encountered ones in which discs weren’t earth. This makes sense given the suits themselves: a vessel that typically carries liquid and a flat metal object. The swapping of air and fire between wands and swords, however, I’ve seen in several places. One such place is the Order of Nine Angles’ (ONA/O9A) Sinister tarot, wherein wands are air and swords are fire.

What is the esoteric logic of having air and water one-way-around as opposed to the other? Part of the Golden Dawn’s take seems to be that wands are for directing energy, vs. swords cut and divide. Whereas, based on Naos, a couple lines of thought that may be relevant to O9A’s take include:

• O9A’s planetary association for wands is Mercury, vs. that for swords is the Sun. Mercury’s element is air, vs. the Sun’s is fire.
• The wand/staff represents the spiritual authority of a wise sage living alone in the high mountains, vs. the sword represents a warrior’s fiery will to protect and to conquer.

What should be noted in any case, however, is the persistence of gendered assumptions re: the elements vs. the suits. Traditionally, fire and air are masculine, while earth and water are feminine. And “obviously,” the two suits entailing phallic objects are “masculine,” while the two that don’t entail these are “feminine.” This insight strikes me as relevant to why one more-typically sees air and fire swapped than either one of these switched with other elements.

Interestingly too, in O9A’s tarot, primal male/female (warrior/maiden) are fire/water, vs. spiritual male/female (high priest/priestess) are air/earth. The progression between elements in the Sinister tarot thus seems less evocative of a descent, more of a cycle.

Tenebrous divination’s equivalent of the minor arcana

Before proceeding, I’ll explain some basic concepts in my divination system, so those not familiar will be able to follow.

The Tenebrous runic-tarot does not have the suits of wands, cups, swords and discs. Instead, its omens are divided into four “kingdoms”. Each kingdom is equivalent to a tarot suit as far as what its phases (numbered omens 1-10) represent. However, the elemental association of the kingdoms is completely different from the tarot suits. I also typically introduce them in a different sequence of progression than Tarot writers do the minor arcana. The result is as follows:

• The kingdom of Attainment is equivalent to discs. Like discs, its omens tend to pertain to day-to-day matters of material well-being. However, its element is fire instead of earth.
• The kingdom of Communion is equivalent to cups. Like cups, its omens tend to pertain to interpersonal topics, and more are “good news” than in other suits. However, its element is air instead of water.
• The kingdom of Strife is equivalent to swords. Like swords, its omens tend to pertain to adversity, and more are “bad news” than in other suits. However, its element is earth instead of air.
• The kingdom of Innovation is equivalent to wands. Like wands, its omens tend to pertain to noble pursuits and spiritual evolution. However, its element is water instead of fire.

Naturally, many will wonder how I arrive at such different elemental associations than seen elsewhere. To unpack this, let’s first enumerate what parts of others’ esoteric reasoning I reject, before getting to what I think instead.

Factors not relevant to the way I’ve devised the kingdoms’ symbolism

As some may have already guessed, some angles that bear on traditional tarot elemental symbolism do not bear upon mine. These include:

• The use of magickal tools as identifiers of the suits. Going by tools and their qualities, one could in theory do a Tenebrous equivalent of this: the candle would be fire, the offering bowl water, the dagger air, and the crystal earth. Given how I use these, however, I didn’t see a strong rationale for tying them to any given suit’s themes. Hence the more thematic (e.g., Attainment = of material goods) terminology for the kingdoms rather than opting for symbolism (e.g., a coin/crystal/etc.).
• The gendering of the suits. It seems to me that way too much traditionally hinges on “sword/wand resembles dick.” That part of tarot I’ve long found kind of simple-minded. I also don’t associate elements with gender, since both men and women can be strong, vulnerable, creative, destructive, etc. Yes, gender is part of human experience, and my system alludes to it via the incarnations (court card equivalents). But I’ve long thought esotericism goes astray in trying to gender things that don’t really need to be gendered.
• The idea of existence as a descent that needs to be reversed. I reject this idea. Therefore, the Golden Dawn’s elemental progression is N/A for me. The more-general notion of elemental hierarchy, wherein some are more “pure” / “spiritual” than others, also strikes me as unproductive.

The general elemental symbolism of the Tenebrous runic-tarot

On the other hand, something that does inform the integration of elements into my system is Tenebrous ritual magick. The progression of elements here is from the LaVeyan tradition, as I was LaVeyan for 25 years before “becoming Othaos”:

• South = fire = kingdom of Attainment
• East = air = kingdom of Communion
• North = earth = kingdom of Strife
• West = water = kingdom of Innovation

Golden Dawn uses this direction-element association in ritual magick also. But the practitioner beginning facing west and doing acknowledgments counter-clockwise, resulting in the order listed, is a left-hand-path innovation.

I’ve maintained this elemental sequence not out of deference to LaVey, but because it does make sense where I live. Being in western Canada, south is where the sun spends most of its time (fire), east is a lot of flat open space (air), north is cold and dry (earth), and west is the nearest ocean (water). Another magician, in a different part of the world (e.g., southern hemisphere), might well have assigned elements to directions differently. One therefore needn’t get hung-up on directional assignments. The central point here is that the Tenebrous runic-tarot’s elemental sequence is consistent with Tenebrous ritual magick’s sequence.

Independently of elements, it also makes sense to me to order the kingdoms thus. Day-to-day life under the sun is dominated by material-concern-chasing; the dawning of greater awareness awakens one to the interconnected web of relations in which one is involved; seeking something for oneself beyond both of these is a difficult Adventure into a realm of unrelenting adversity; the Adventurer must descend into the bottomless depths of a great mystery before rising to new heights of self-evolution. Again, magicians elsewhere might associate directions differently, but such is the significance of Tenebrous ritual’s progression through the directions to me.

Symbolism of the specific elements in the Tenebrous runic-tarot

The question “how does a walker of the left-hand path experience the spiritual journey differently from the walker of the right-hand path?” is a significant animator of my divination system’s differences from traditional tarot. My rationale for each of the elements can therefore be elucidated via this question.

Kingdom of Attainment: fire instead of earth

Why connect the equivalent of the suit of discs to fire instead of earth? As Nine Keys puts it, fire highlights “the dynamic quality of worldly striving for a walker of the Sinister Path”.

Right-hand path traditions have typically characterized the chasing of wealth, fame, etc. as a temptation that spiritual seekers ought to reject. The left-hand path, by contrast, has a more nuanced approach. Yes, at some points in one’s journey, decoupling oneself from herd values will manfest as disdain for worldly goods. But at other points, the full and unapologetic enjoyment of such goods is an essential component of one’s flourishing.

This latter concept, proximate to LaVey’s “indulgence, not abstinence,” is what I especially have in mind re: “Kingdom of Attainment.” Religions such as Buddhism compare the desire-realm to a burning house that one ought to escape from. In contrast, I instead think of Dissection’s reference to “the burning path of liberation and ecstasy.” Yes, desire can burn destructively, as fire does. But seeking and achieving is an important part of how we both individuate ourselves and enjoy life. (Note: being anti-cosmic Satanists, Dissection almost definitely did not mean this; nonetheless, it’s what their lyrics make me think of.)

Tenebrous Satanism rejects the idea that worldly pleasure is merely an obstacle to be stepped over. It is, instead, a flame to be mastered so that one can direct it toward one’s own constructive purposes.

Kingdom of Communion: air instead of water

Why connect the equivalent of the suit of cups to air instead of water? Nine Keys notes that “self-knowledge, clarity of communication, and the ability to look at things from a detached standpoint” are crucial qualities for the walker of the left-hand path to develop. Such qualities all entail transparency and objectivity, which air evokes well via occupying the space between things.

Some may think, sure, that makes sense for those qualities, but why tie them to “the suit with all the relationship stuff in it” – isn’t that “obviously” water, because of the emotional component? I would argue in response that left-hand path walkers here must navigate a difficult balance. On one hand, humans are social animals. It’s not healthy, even for us “dark loner” types, to try to eliminate our emotional needs on this front entirely. On the other hand though, normal human relationality can often present itself as an obstacle on this path. My own experience in this regard is that romance can often feel spiritually-important at the time, yet after things fall apart, one can look back and be struck by innumerable little ways in which spending time with that person and preoccupying oneself with their needs resulted in self-work evaded and time and energy squandered on mundane matters.

I conclude from this that a Satanist is seldom well-served by immersing oneself in a relationship. But that does not mean a wholesale rejection of Communion as unimportant. It just means cultivating a degree of aloofness so as to remain above and separated from what would otherwise distract.

Kingdom of Strife: earth instead of air

Why connect the equivalent of the suit of swords to earth instead of air? Nine Keys of Abyssal Darkness answers this way:

… it is within the material, physical realm that spirit must contend with a state of limitation. From a Faustian perspective, earth represents crude material that a powerful will may transmute into something better and more useful, but stands as an obstacle in one’s path so long as it remains untransformed.

When spirit enters into flesh for the purposes of Adventure, it is basically going looking for Strife. Conscious beings thus tend to become subdivided into two parts: flesh-consciousness, which seeks things like happiness and stability for the sake of comfort, and spirit-consciousness, which seeks to know and do ever more, even at the price of potential discomfort.

To flesh-consciousness, Strife is the winds of chaos, blowing through life and creating unwanted complications. To spirit-consciousness, though, Strife is the soil from which novelty and achievement may grow. It is also the grit around which grows the pearl.

Tenebrous Satanism sees flesh-consciousness and spirit-consciousness as both valid parts of the human being. Spirit-consciousness, however, should be the primary mode for the sorcerer who strives toward both personal evolution and aeonic change. Such is then is the perspective I adopt in associating “the suit of adversity” with the element of earth.

Kingdom of Innovation: water instead of fire

Why connect the equivalent of the suit of wands to water instead of fire? Nine Keys highlights “water’s connotations both as a cleansing rejuvenator and a slow yet sure eroder of obstacles”.

It makes sense for a right-hand path perspective to assign fire to the suit focused on noble pursuits. Such religiosity “seeks the light” – not-infrequently toward the goal of a soul being consumed by the Ultimate. Such a path also tends to praise humility while framing pride as a sin. One one hand, it urges one to light a torch for others; on the other, it warns against flying too close to the sun.

The left-hand-path denies the self-abnegating demands of the right-hand path. But this does not mean its goal of apotheosis asks no sacrifices of the individual. In causal Jungian terms, one must descend into the dark depths wherein one risks losing oneself. In acausal Tenebrous terms, one must brave the primordial Abyss without being torn apart by its vortex. Such processes, though dangerous, are rejuvenators insofar as they strip away baggage that one was ultimately better-off without. They wear one smooth, like the stone polished by the river. One cannot survive such processes in a meaningful way without a healthy degree of pride.

In summary, nobility on the right-hand path is the tribe gathered around the warming fire of the self-sacrificing hero who has brought them all together; nobility on the left-hand-path is the solitary striver who at last discovers the remote and inaccessible spring that they shall drink from and be transformed into something wholly unlike the rest of the tribe. Hence the choice of water for the kingdom of Innovation.

Concluding thoughts

I do not blame anyone for seeing the Tenebrous runic-tarot’s elemental associations as idiosyncratic at first glance. But I hope the above makes clear that the assignment is far from arbitrary.

I would be especially interested to hear other left-hand-path walkers’ reactions to this, since again, the desire to create a system that addressed left-hand-path spiritual experience more thoroughgoingly than traditional tarot was a keen motivator for my devising it.

These or any other related thoughts, please share in the comments!