Solitaire, the Tarot, and the Three Dark Nights of the Soul
An Esoteric Symbology Obfuscated by Time
A Perspective
It appears to me to be a relatively ubiquitous experience to be sitting down at one's computer, or on a particularly lonely night sitting at a card table with a deck of playing cards, flipping through games of Solitaire, in boredom and quiet contemplation. I did this more so in my youth, more times than I would like to admit, but I never gave much thought to it, passively shuffling real and virtual cards around in their various piles. Of course Solitaire just means “lonely” in French, and, given my nature and spiritual disciple that is Hermeticism, it seemed to be a topic worthy of reflection. Between these reflections, and my recent research into more arcane domains of esoteric knowledge, I achieved a synthesis of knowledge that led to a meaningful realization that might be of use or interest to others focused on the value of universal knowledge and principles, especially with regards to the pathway to "spiritual realization" while in this life.
The Three Dark Nights
By pure Providence, in my research, I have finally come along to reading the Collected Works of St. John of the Cross (aka. San Juan de la Cruz). The two works of note for our purposes are The Ascent of Mt. Carmel and the aforementioned Dark Night of the Soul. Both of these works in tandem explicate the necessary conditions by which one arrives at, passes through, and experiences the three dark nights, through all varied modalities, all to achieve true union with God in this life. With this in mind, some elaboration may be required.
First, the pathway to knowing objective knowledge of God is obscure, and, as such, can be referred to as a night, from a symbological point of view. To quote the anonymous author of the mystical work The Cloud of Unknowing, the One True God is one who "hides in darkness", since God is Transcendently above all knowledge and experience from an ontological point of view. He is as such because He, in the Trinitarian modality as Father, is the creator of all things, the Highest Good, as he gives everything and receives nothing from the initial sacrifice of principial unity into multiplicity, making space for creation and allowing beings to know and seek union with Him (see the Kabbalistic doctrine of tzimtzum for more information on “divine contraction”). As a result, being the monad for any decad of manifestation, He is above all conceptions of anything knowable since He is the source of all that is manifest (for example, only the unmanifest can make what is manifest, just as what is immobile allows for what is mobile to push off of its immutability of position, which one can take in the context of the Unmoved Mover and Primum Mobile in this relationship). As such, objective knowledge of God is obscure, dark, a veritable night, but it is not impossible to see with dark light and dark knowledge of unknowing.
Second, we must note the three-tiered process of initiation, universal across all Traditions in principle. The first step is purification, in which one purges oneself of all impulses towards want, vices, and of spiritual impurities that pull one “downward” to the material (reflective of the principle of tamas in Hinduism, as opposed to rajas and sattva). The second step is illumination, in which one achieves the “lesser mysteries” (often resembling the silver key) through the communication of the exoteric aspect of the respective Tradition; and herein lies the secret: these images can then in turn be broken and destroyed to allow for the final step. The third and final step is the height of perfection, in which one achieves the “greater mysteries” (the golden key), that which is purely esoteric, inward (via literal “in-sight”), unteachable and incommunicable knowledge (a passive, dark knowledge, by association). We could cite countless examples here across the various Traditions and initiatory groups across the spiritual history of man, but, in passing, this can best be reflected by the Christian rites of Baptism (purification), Confirmation (illumination) and communion (perfection), and undoubtedly, in the obscure and early time in the church’s history, these held a more intact esoteric dimension in actuality than what exists today in potentiality. This triadic pathway is also reflected in the works of St. Dionysius the Areopagite (referred to moderns as Pseudo-Dionysius) in his work Celestial Hierarchies, in which the 9 levels of angels, each in their three sets of three tiers (from top to bottom: Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones - Dominions, Virtues, Powers - Principalities, Archangels, Angels), with the first three reflective of perfection, the next three of illumination, and the last three of purification, as attested by the Saint himself.
Thirdly, and lastly, this brings us to the Three Dark Nights. The first night is that of mortification, through purification, of the aforementioned impulses towards wants, vices and imperfections, which is likened to the twilight before the height of darkness. This darkest night is the second night, that in which all images of the Divine that one has internally must be broken and cast off, in which the soul is left naked, divested of everything - groping in the dark, which makes this night like that of midnight without even the light of the moon (reflection) to guide the way. To borrow again from St. Dionysius the Areopagite in his Mystical Theology, this is achieved by the alternation between “descending realization”, in which one affirms all the names of God (see Divine Names, same author) and all likeness of Him from that which is highest to that which is lowest, and “ascending realization”, in which one negates all aspects of God from the lowest to the highest. The reason both these things must be done is to achieve the third dark night, which is union with God, and this can only be possible by eliminating all that which is dissimilar with God, which is all impurity and affirmation of knowledge that takes up space in one’s soul. One can only be in full union with God while alive when one is truly poor, which reflects the words of the Lord from the Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:3), followed by “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they will see God” (Matt. 5:8). This is best reflected by the Taoist principles in the Tao Te Ching: “It is the empty space that makes the bowl useful” (Verse 11), as well as “Only when one is empty can one be filled” (Verse 22).
The Four Suits of the Tarot
This brings us to the Tarot, and the latent symbology therein, scarcely understood by the New Age crowd that flock to it for divination, which is something, as a Traditionalist, that we would not permit for ourselves. Regardless of this notion, the Tarot is a rich repository of the Egyptian, later Greek, Hermetic Tradition, which holds the deep spiritual knowledge that was passed onto Judaism (“And Moses was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and was mighty in words and deeds” (Acts 7:22)), and later into the Christian world, made evident via the existence of the Tarot within Europe in practice of the card game, something which can be done without any spiritually dangerous exercises. The core for this viewpoint I highly credit to the author of Meditations on the Tarot: A Journey Into Christian Hermeticism, who chose to publish this anonymously, but we know is the esotericist and metaphysician Valentin Tomberg. I encourage any curious and determined reader to take up the book, if they haven’t done so already, for a fuller realization of its wisdom, as if it wasn’t evident by our disposition in the way in which our name betrays our influences. This work undergoes a careful analysis of all of the major trumps, of which there are 22 (compare to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet and 22 channels in the Tree of Sephiroth, analysis forthcoming), which each are a means of spiritual exercise through viewing the metaphysical symbology imprinted on the cards, in which we recommend the Marseille Tarot, since they hold the highest character in this regard, without falling into a dilution of form (or, rather, essence) of the truth behind its meaning. This could warrant an entire explanation in and of itself, but this would take us very far afield. We, instead, will limit ourselves to talking about the four suits of the lesser trumps, listed in ascending order: Pentacles, Swords, Cups and Wands.
Pentacles being the least suit is reflective of the process of purification, via the aforementioned initiatic pathway, with the five points being reflective of the five aspects of the will: the will to take (right hand), the will to hold (left hand), the will to conquer (right foot), the will to retain domain (left foot), and the will of the intellect (best represented not by the head, which is the mind, but, instead, by the heart, the true seat of the spiritual, supra-rational, intellect). These five points form the star, or pentacle, that is a universal symbol for man, though not Universal Man, which can only be represented in the symbol of the cross (see Rene Guenon’s Symbolism of the Cross and The Multiple States of Being). These wills must be crucified internally, through spiritual practice and discipline, to allow for the fullness of purification. This is best understood inwardly, but this process can manifest in the physical, only under very specific and special circumstances (ex. the stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi). This achieves the first Dark Night.
The next that follows is the Sword, which is used to break the images of the mind with regards to conceptions of the Divine, which are the barriers to the fullness of union, which is best reflected by the following verse: “"So He drove out the man; and He placed cherubim at the east of the Garden of Eden, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the way to the tree of life” (Gen. 3:24). Once this is done, one is fully emptied of all and allows for the true spiritual poverty necessary for the second Dark Night to be achieved.
Then comes the Cup, in which one is a truly empty vessel, which allows one to be filled with the dark knowledge of God, “transcending all knowledge” (“I Entered the Unknown”, poem by St. John of the Cross).
Lastly is the Wand, which reflects the unification of the human will and the Divine will, making one an agent of Divine magic and potency via the truly hermetic pathway from above to below: Mystical Union - Gnosis - Divine Magic - Hermeticism, which is the esoteric meaning of the Tetragrammaton, YHVH (per Meditations on the Tarot). This is Man at the highest actualization of his intended Divine function, to carry out the will of his creator by being his servant - to quote the Lord’s Prayer: “The Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done, On Earth as It Is In Heaven”. When Adam and Eve chose not to eat of the Tree of Life (Monistic Unity with God in theophanic consciousness) and sample from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (Dualism and separation from God), they broke this mystical union and caused all of the seed of Adam to participate in the Fall, borne from spiritual pride, with the original sin to think that Man was separate from God, which is, in principle, impossible, since everything extends from the One. It is our job as the Children of Adam, and, even greater, the Children of God, to rise to the occasion to reclaim our Divine station through the realization of God’s call to participate in His Plan. Do with this information what you will, but, remember, the hour grows late, and how long will you leave your back unguarded?
Solitaire and Synthesis
This brings us back to where we started in the first place, the simple game of Solitaire. How does this all connect together? The way I see it, the 52 cards of the standard deck have their respective suits, in order ascending as follows: Diamonds, Clubs, Hearts and Spades. These suits are directly analogous to the suits of the Tarot respectively, of Pentacles, Swords, Cups and Wands. This will warrant an explanation as to why this is and why these symbols are no longer one-to-one, compared to having a fully intact and consistent symbology.
To bring us towards the close, we must note the supposed story of how the Tarot came to be. Supposedly, as relayed by Tomberg (Meditations on the Tarot), the Egyptians knew their Tradition was fading, so they had to find a way to crystalize their Tradition to save it for future humanity (see A.K. Coomaraswamy’s The Bugbear of Literacy, for the degeneration of Traditions necessitating the movement from oral tradition to written tradition). This sacerdotal caste first decided on putting their Tradition to paper, but they quickly realized that paper would degrade and fade away, as well evidenced by all the works lost to history beyond the fullness of the Egyptian Hermetic works that remain in the Corpus Hermeticum. Then they decided to put it unto stone, but even stone erodes and fades away over time. So, finally, the priests decided to put their Tradition on the only thing that would not degrade over time: vice, through the use of the card game. There is a deep lesson here that reflects a principle so profound, that it reflects the overall trend of downward cosmic manifestation away from the Principle towards substance (see Rene Guenon’s The Crisis of the Modern World, and especially The Reign of Quantity and the Signs of the Times).
So, it follows that, as time goes on, knowledge of Tradition and Divine reality fades over time, in the movement away from Essence to Substance, from Form to Formation, from Quality to Quantity, then it follows that the knowledge of the Tarot can too also fade. The various forms of the Tarot can attest to that, as well as the incomprehension of moderns that know nothing of it beyond charlatanism and the puerile cupidity of profane curiosity. Beyond this, the knowledge of the esoteric meaning of the four suits can also fade, to the point at which the classic playing cards and their respective suits are but a shadow of their former function.
The diamond moves from the pentacle, from the pentad to the quadrilateral, reflecting stability of a physical, potentially profane, order, in which a certain degree of depth has been lost. The club moves from the sword to a blunted object, losing an aspect of its stinging potency, towards something more brutish and of a decidedly lesser order, far below the nobility conferred upon the agency of the symbol of temporal will. The heart moves from the cup, both a vessel of sorts, but without the Traditional knowledge of the Holy Grail, analogous to the Philosopher’s Stone and Elixir of Life, of Western Alchemy and Eastern Alchemy respectively, which is realized within, which transcends any sentimentalism that could be conferred by what the heart conveys. Lastly, the spade moves from the wand, a reflection of the lower function of man in his fallen station, to cultivate the earth with the shovel, when, instead, our proper function was to do the same with a more celestially inclined functionality (see Kore Kosmou, “And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field” (Gen. 2:20)).
To take this a step further, the game Solitaire is meant to be with respect to these suits, weaving them in alternating patterns to take all the cards out from the deck, lay them all out, all to pile them back up again in their proper order. First comes the “descending realization”, which is the act of affirming all the presence of the deck, by pulling out what is not manifest and bringing it onto the game board. Then comes “ascending realization” in which one negates the bringing down of the cards by putting them “upward” to their proper place, with respect to each suit, having performed its proper function. When the game is played well, with discipline and planning, as well as a bit of intuition, the endgame is achieved, and true unity of the deck is restored. If only the real thing were as simple as a game of Solitaire.
In summation, I will leave the reader with one final thought. With all that has been said, let us come back to the solitary: the player of the game of Solitaire. Why not play games with others? To remove all doubt, this is good as well - to share a table with friends, have friendly competition, make a bet, or have a laugh. These things are goods just as all physical objects are goods. However, none of these things, if not properly oriented towards their respective place, can bring us any closer to unity with God in this life. So, when it comes to spiritual practice, one has to forgo that which is good with that which is better. For those that are called to contemplation of the highest of the Divine Mysteries, being with people is good - but being alone with God is better. This one aspect of the way of the Hermit.