You might think it ironic that I place this optimistic proverb side by side next to the Ten of Swords where a man lies face down on the ground with ten swords stabbing him in his back. Is this not the sorriest sight ever, the ultimate betrayal, death knell, no holds barred of an ending. And then right next to it a hopeful homily forecasting a bright future. It is a visual oxymoron.
The way I see it is that when you have reached the end of the line and what’s done is done and truly over, there’s really only one direction to go after that and that’s up. Even though the man is lying face down in a pool of his own blood, his body limp in death, even though the night is pitch black, and a body of water and mountains loom in a desolate landscape, my eye goes to the band of yellow light which signifies a new day, a new beginning and all the hope that comes with that.
It’s time to accept the loss and move on. Good things are to come.