Strength through Temperance: Line Two of the Major Arcana
The second line of the Major Arcana as depicted in the Rider Waite Smith
Something profound happens after The Chariot. We have achieved mastery over our external circumstances, learned to harness opposing forces and direct them toward our goals. We might think this is the end of the story, and many people attempt to stop here, believing that external success and control constitute the fullness of human achievement. But the cards know better. They know that true initiation has only just begun.
Transformation: Descending into Sacred Depths
The second line of the Major Arcana: Strength through Temperance, invites us into the deeper discovery of our inner world. This is where Mary K. Greer's concept of the Heroine's Journey becomes most relevant, for this passage requires us to go within, to meet aspects of ourselves we may have been avoiding, to develop the kind of quiet, persistent courage that doesn't announce itself with a big brass band but with whispers in the darkest of places.
This is the "liminality" phase of our grand rite of passage, that suspended state between identities where all the real transformation occurs. It is messy, uncomfortable, and almost always necessary. We may spend years in this section of the journey, cycling through these energies again and again, learning to navigate the terrain of our own becoming with increasing skill and grace.
The Courage to Be Gentle
Strength asks us not to overpower, but to find the gentle persistence that can soothe the wildest aspects of ourselves. The woman in the card doesn't club the lion into submission, she opens its mouth with her bare hands, suggesting a form of power that works through gentleness rather than force.
This card often appears when we're learning to work with rather than against our own emotional intensity, our fears, our desires, our anger. Strength teaches us that true power lies not in suppression or domination, but in the patient cultivation of relationship with all aspects of ourselves. It's the courage to stay present with what's difficult, to meet our own wildness with compassion rather than judgment.
I think of Strength every time I choose to breathe through anxiety rather than fight it, every time I approach my own resistance with curiosity rather than force. This represents inner strength at its core: not brute force or dominance, but the quiet power to transform through presence and grace.
The Hermit calls us into the essential solitude of self-discovery. After the external achievements of The Chariot, The Hermit asks us to step away from the validation and distractions of the outside world and turn toward the inner light that must be tended with patience and reverence.
This is perhaps the most challenging card for our achievement-oriented culture to understand. The Hermit represents the necessary withdrawal from external activity in service of inner development. He holds up his lantern not to illuminate the path for others, but to see his own way forward in the darkness of the unknown.
The Hermit phase of initiation cannot be rushed. It requires us to value depth over breadth, quality over quantity, inner knowing over outer approval. This is the time when we develop our own relationship with wisdom, when we learn to trust our inner guidance even when (especially when!) it conflicts with external expectations 😶🌫️
The Wheel of Fortune reminds us that life moves in cycles, that what goes up must come down, that surrender to natural rhythms is part of wisdom. After the stillness of The Hermit, The Wheel reintroduces us to the reality of change, but from a different perspective than we had before our withdrawal.
The Wheel teaches us about timing, about the importance of understanding when to act and when to wait, when to push forward and when to allow. It represents the wisdom of working with natural cycles rather than against them, of recognizing that we are part of a larger pattern that moves according to its own intelligence.
This card often appears when we're learning to let go of the illusion that we control outcomes, when we're developing faith in the larger unfolding of our lives. The Wheel reminds us that both good times and difficult times are temporary, that our job is not to stop the wheel from turning but to learn to ride it with grace.
Facing the Mirror of Truth
Justice demands we examine our choices with brutal honesty, weighing not just what serves us, but what serves the greater good. Justice represents the initiation into moral consciousness, the development of our capacity for ethical discernment and right action.
But Justice is not about punishment or rigid morality. She represents the natural law of cause and effect, the understanding that our choices have consequences not just for ourselves but for the web of relationships in which we exist. Justice asks us to develop the maturity to take responsibility for our impact, to make choices from a place of wisdom rather than impulse.
Justice may be one of my biggest personal teachers. This is often the card that appears when we're ready to face difficult truths about ourselves, when when we are ready to accept things as they are, rather than as we would like them to be.
The Hanged Man suspends us in that liminal space between what was and what might be, teaching us that sometimes progress requires absolute stillness. This is perhaps the most mysterious card in the entire deck, depicting a figure hanging upside down, apparently trapped, yet with a serene expression that suggests this suspension is chosen rather than imposed.
The Hanged Man represents the profound spiritual teaching of surrender, not passive resignation, but active receptivity to a wisdom larger than our ego's understanding. This card appears when we must stop trying to force solutions and instead allow ourselves to be transformed by circumstances we cannot control.
I have found myself in Hanged Man periods many time, those seasons when nothing I try seems to work, when I must simply wait and trust that something important is happening beneath the surface of my awareness. These times are never comfortable, yet that bright illuminated halo around their head didn’t come from rash decisions. It is the wisdom that comes with pause and reflection, albeit often times forced rather than chosen. The Hanged Man teaches us that sometimes the most powerful action is non-action, that sometimes the greatest progress happens when we stop trying to progress.
Death asks us to release our grip on old identities, to allow the dissolution that makes rebirth possible. Death represents the ego's encounter with its own limitations, the recognition that who we've been is not who we're becoming.
In the context of this second line of initiation, Death often represents the death of the achiever, the controller, the one who believed that external mastery was sufficient. We must allow this version of ourselves to die in order for a deeper, more authentic self to emerge.
As Rachel Pollack wrote, Death shows us "the precise moment at which we give up the old mask and allow the transformation to take place." This is perhaps the most sacred moment in any rite of passage, the conscious choosing to let go of what's familiar in service of what's possible.
The Art of Balance
Temperance, the angel of integration, shows us how to blend opposing elements within ourselves into something new and more beautiful. After the dissolution of Death, Temperance teaches us the delicate art of reconstruction—not returning to what was, but consciously creating what could be.
Temperance represents the culmination of this inner journey, the development of our capacity to hold paradox, to integrate opposing forces within ourselves, to find the middle way that honors both spirit and matter, both masculine and feminine, both individual needs and collective responsibility.
This card often appears when we're learning to moderate extremes in our lives, when we're developing the patience and skill required for sustainable growth. Temperance reminds us that transformation is not a dramatic event but a gradual process of conscious integration.
Becoming
This second line of the Major Arcana represents the heart of the Heroine's Journey, a descent into the underworld of the psyche, the willingness to face what Jung called the shadow, the development of a relationship with the parts of ourselves that polite society prefers to ignore.
Traditional masculine initiations often emphasized external trials, the vision quest that took young men into wilderness, the warrior training that tested physical courage, the achievements that marked status in community. But the feminine path of initiation has always been more intimate, more internal, requiring a different kind of bravery: the courage to descend into one's own depths and emerge transformed.
This is the phase of initiation where we develop what might be called inner authority, not the authority to control others or external circumstances, but the authority that comes from deep self-knowledge, from having met and integrated the full spectrum of our own humanity.
It's messy work, this inner journey. We may cycle through these cards again and again, each time discovering new layers of ourselves that need attention, integration, and love. But this is not failure, this is the nature of deep transformation. As the Hermit's lantern shows us, we can only see one step ahead at a time. The path reveals itself as we walk it.
The Fool continues to accompany us through this phase, reminding us to approach even our deepest fears and shadows with curiosity rather than condemnation, with the beginner's mind that allows for genuine discovery rather than confirmation of what we think we already know.
This second line of initiation prepares us for the final phase of the journey—the recognition that individual transformation is not an end in itself, but preparation for conscious participation in the larger patterns of existence, in service to something infinitely greater than our personal concerns.
This is the second post in a three-part series exploring the Major Arcana as humanity's ultimate rite of passage. Next, we'll explore the third line of cards (The Devil through The World) and the profound journey of recognizing our connection to the sacred whole.