What Isn't in My Hands, I Let Go to the Wind
The Stoic dichotomy between what depends on me and what doesn't, found in the Wheel of Fortune: a way to calm the anxiety of control.
The Stoics taught that we suffer more trying to control what doesn't depend on us than from the problem itself. The Wheel of Fortune carries that same truth: life turns at a rhythm that isn't ours, and peace lives in tending only to our own part.
I open the grimoire again
Today I woke up already checking my phone before I'd properly opened my eyes, anxious for news that doesn't depend on me in the slightest. And it was in that instant, with my heart racing over something I can't change, that I remembered a lesson I've carried since I first read about the ancient Stoics, back in Greece and Rome. They had a way of organising life that looks simple and is revolutionary: there's what depends on me, and there's what doesn't. And my peace, almost always, lives exactly in that division I keep insisting on ignoring. I'm writing this today for myself, who still gets this sum wrong every week, as much as for you, reading this with a tight chest over something that also isn't in your hands.
The teaching: the dichotomy of control
Epictetus was a slave before he was a philosopher, and maybe that's why he knew better than anyone what it means to live without controlling almost anything about your own life. He taught that we suffer not because of the things themselves, but because we believe we should be able to control them. There's what depends on me: my thoughts, my choices, my effort, my reaction. And there's what doesn't: other people's opinions, the final outcome, health, the weather, how long things take to happen. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, wrote this to himself every night, in a notebook no one was ever meant to read, trying to remember that spending energy on what I don't control is the same as trying to hold an entire river with two open hands.
The card that carries this lesson: the Wheel of Fortune
The Wheel of Fortune is the card that says exactly this without needing a single Stoic word. It shows the constant spin of luck, up one moment, down the next, and no one holds that wheel still with their own hands. What the Stoics wrote in books, this card draws in symbol: life has a movement that doesn't ask our opinion before it turns. To me, the Wheel isn't about good luck or bad, it's about accepting that there's a rhythm bigger than mine, and that my part in it is much smaller than my ego would like. When the Wheel shows up in a reading, I think less about predicting what's coming and more about remembering that I'm not the one who spins the world.
The anxiety of holding on to what's already turned
It's in anxiety that this wheel torments me most. I run through scenarios, trying to predict every move of a situation that left my hands a long time ago, as if thinking harder could change the outcome. But anxiety is almost always born exactly there, in the attempt to control the uncontrollable, to hold the river, to stop the wheel with a finger. When I separate, on paper even, what's mine, my effort, my attitude, my response, from what isn't mine, the other person's decision, the timing of things, the final outcome, something in my chest relaxes. Not because the problem disappeared, but because I stop carrying a weight that was never mine to carry.
In love, planting without demanding the harvest
In love, this dichotomy hurts more than anywhere else. I don't control whether someone will love me the way I need, I don't control the other person's timeline for understanding what they feel, I don't control whether they'll come back, stay, or choose another path. What I control is how I treat the people I love, how much truth I put into the relationship, whether I leave when it isn't good for me. I find more peace when I understand that my part in love is to plant with honesty, not to harvest with a guarantee. The Wheel will turn in a way I don't choose, but the hand planting the seed is still mine, and that part I won't stop doing well.
In money, doing your part and letting go of the guarantee
In money, the turn of the Wheel shows up in every month that doesn't go as planned. There were good months, and there were months that made me want to shut everything down. I've learned that my job is to do my part with discipline: offer well, take care of the people who buy from me, look after what's under my control, and let go of the guarantee of outcome, because that guarantee has never existed for anyone, not even for businesses far bigger than mine. Anyone who tries to control every cent coming in and every market decision lives in an anxiety no Stoic would recommend. The financial peace I've found so far didn't come from controlling everything, it came from doing my part properly and accepting that the Wheel will also turn in my favour, in its own time.
A practice for this week
The practice I use on myself, and leave here for you: grab a sheet of paper and draw two columns. On one side, write down everything troubling you right now. On the other, mark what genuinely depends on you to do, and cross out the rest firmly, because that isn't yours to carry. For what stays crossed out, make a small promise: I'll take care of my part. For what stays unmarked, write: the Wheel decides this, I let go. Repeat this every time anxiety comes back asking you to control the uncontrollable. It isn't about stopping caring, it's about stopping carrying the weight of a turn that was never yours to hold.
I close the grimoire
I finish this page thinking about how many nights I've lost trying to control turns that had already left my hands long ago. The Stoics wrote to themselves because they knew this lesson needs constant reminding, not a single lesson learned. Tarot, for me, works the same way: it isn't fortune-telling, it's a mirror that hands back the right question at the right time. If you feel the Wheel is spinning too fast in your life right now and would like to talk through what's genuinely yours to tend to, I'm here, in a reading, to think it through with you, slowly. Until then, breathe. The wheel turns, and you're still standing.
Frequently asked questions
Is accepting what I can't control the same as giving up?
No. It's about no longer spending your strength where it changes nothing, so you can put all of it where it actually makes a difference.
Does the Wheel of Fortune always mean sudden change?
It speaks to the natural movement of life, which rises and falls. It's not a fixed omen, it's a reminder of cycles.
Does tarot help with anxiety?
It helps as reflection, not as magical control over the future. A reading organises your thinking; the one who decides and acts is still you.
A symbolic reading can bring clarity, but it doesn't replace therapy, medical care or psychological support.