THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE – love

In love, THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE tells you that relationships have seasons, not a single constant temperature.

Look closely at the card, where a huge wheel spins in the sky, a blue sphinx sits atop it with a sword in its hand, a figure clings to its right side climbing upwards, and a snake slides downwards on its left.

And observe both sides, because this is the essence: simultaneously. It's not that the good times come first, then the difficult ones — both are always happening, you just happen to see one more clearly.

If you are in a relationship and are currently going through a difficult phase, this card does not tell you to endure, but rather not to judge from a single position of the wheel. A downturn is not a diagnosis. Most people don't leave a bad relationship, but a bad month.

But if you are in a good phase, pay attention nonetheless: the wheel is still turning. This is not a threat, but a call — during the good times, you must do what will sustain you through the bad.

Now look at the four corners, where four winged figures sit on clouds, and all four are reading books. They are not looking at the wheel. This is your lesson: if your entire happiness depends on the other person's mood today, then you are living on the edge, and every little thing shakes you.

As long as you live on the edge, every message, every emphasis, every delay shakes you. If there is a point within you that does not spin, then the same thing will just remain a tired evening.

If you are alone, then hear the card's comfort: the wheel cannot spin with only one side moving. What seems empty now is already being prepared on the other side of the wheel.

In reverse, clinging is at work: it's not the relationship holding you, but you clinging to it — yet what needs to be let go, the wheel will take away anyway.

Most people don't leave a bad relationship. They leave a bad month.

Look closely at the card, where a huge wheel spins in the sky, with letters running around its rim. A blue sphinx sits at the top with a sword in its hand, a figure climbs upwards on its right side, and a snake slides downwards on its left side.

And observe the two sides of the wheel, because this is the essence: simultaneously. It's not that the good times come first, then the difficult ones — both are always happening, in every moment, you just see one more clearly at any given time.

This is your message tonight, because relationships have seasons, not a single constant temperature. If you are in a difficult phase now, this card does not tell you to endure — but rather not to judge from a single position of the wheel. A low point is not a diagnosis.

And if you are in a good phase, pay attention then too, because the wheel is still turning. This is not a threat, but an invitation: in good times, you must do what will sustain you in bad times. What you say out of love tonight will be important in February.

Now look at the four corners, because this is the card's greatest secret: four winged figures sit on the clouds — an angel, an eagle, a lion, and a bull — and all four are reading books. They are not looking at the wheel. They are not anxious, not applauding, and not wailing.

This is your lesson today. If your entire peace of mind depends on the other person's mood today, then you are living on the rim — and on the rim, every message, every emphasis, every delay shakes you.

If, however, there is a point within you that does not spin, then the same thing will remain just a tired evening, and not "this whole thing isn't working."

If you are alone, hear the card's comfort: the wheel cannot spin with only one side moving. What seems empty now is already preparing on the other side.

Today, do not cling to the spoke. What needs to be released, the wheel will carry away anyway — the only difference is whether it pulls you along with it.

In a reversed position, it's not the relationship that holds, but you who are gripping it: and gripping is not love, but fear.