@the_eternal_tarot: I was sixteen when I found Chariots of Fire. It was our set work for matriculation English, and I watched it a hundred times. Two men. Harold Abrahams, the technician: clinical, dogged, all will. And Eric Liddell, the Flying Scotsman, with the worst running style on the planet, head thrown back, arms flailing, barely able to see where he was going, pulled along by something far bigger than himself. This morning I went for a run. No beach, no white kit, no Vangelis. Just a fairly miserable plod up a suburban path. And I understood, after thirty years, why I have carried those two men around with me. It has nothing to do with running. In the darkest stretches of my life I could not summon a scrap of Harold Abrahams. People tell you to dig deep. I could not, because there was no bottom to dig to. What carried me in those years was the Eric Liddell in me: the knowing that something beyond this meat suit was going to have to do it, because I had nothing left. This morning, both of them were there at once. Which is the Chariot card, exactly. Two creatures at the front, one black and one white, pulling in opposite directions, and a driver holding both without a single rein. Everybody calls it the willpower card. It is not. Willpower is only one of those animals. The Chariot is what happens when your effort and something greater than your effort finally pull the same way. Both. Always both. #theeternaltarot #thechariot #chariotsoffire #tarotmeanings

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