KNIGHT OF PENTACLES – vocation

In work, the Knight of Pentacles is the one who finishes.

Look at the card. There are four knights in the deck, three are galloping, this one stands still. A heavy draft horse, all four feet on the ground, ploughed earth beneath it. Not a racehorse – this animal was bred for pulling.

And here's the point: none of the three galloping knights reach their goal in this deck. The Knight of Wands burns out. The Knight of Swords crashes into something. The Knight of Cups stops halfway.

The Knight of Pentacles gets there. Always. Two years later than anyone thought – but they get there.

This is you. And throughout your career, this quality of yours has been portrayed as a flaw: that you are slow, that you don't have enough momentum, that others have changed three times while you are still pushing the same thing. You are not slow. You pull. That's different.

Look at what it holds in its hand: a coin, and it’s looking at it. It doesn't wave it, it doesn't proclaim it. There is one thing in its hand, not seven. That's why it gets there.

The shadow, however, is real. Reliability has a quiet price: you are never asked if you want to. Everyone knows you'll do it – so they don't even think of you when handing out the interesting things.

Conversely: the horse stands, and no longer starts. Routine that leads nowhere.

Don't give up. But change your circle once.

You will get there. Not them.

Look at the card. There are four knights in this deck, and three of them are galloping – in fire, in storm, with great momentum. And this one stands still. The horse doesn't move: it's a heavy, muscular draft horse, all four legs firmly on the ground.

This is the most boring card in the deck, and now I'll tell you why that's the highest compliment.

None of the three galloping knights reach their destination. One burns out. Another crashes into something. The third stops halfway. The Knight of Pentacles gets there. Always. Two years later than anyone expected – but he gets there.

This is you. And I know that this quality of yours has been presented to you as a flaw your entire life. That you are slow. That you don't have enough momentum. That others have changed course three times while you're still pushing the same thing.

Look at that horse again. It wasn't bred for speed. It was bred for pulling.

And look at what the knight holds in his hand: a coin he is looking at. He doesn't wave it around, he doesn't announce it. He has one thing in his hand, not seven. He doesn't get there because he's better – but because he doesn't look elsewhere.

Today, two things are asked of you.

The first: don't give up. You're not doing it in vain. Endure. This is your weapon, and very few people have it.

The second, and this is the harder one: reliability has a quiet price. You are never asked if you want it. Everyone knows you'll do it – so they don't even think of you when the interesting things are being handed out.

Speak up. Once, specifically. Ask for that project.

And do something this week that has no return. The horse also deserves a day to graze.