You know, for the longest time, I thought the Five of Swords was about winning. Seriously. I kept seeing that picture, the one guy walking away with all the blades, and I figured, “That’s me. I took the victory. Screw the losers standing there.” That was my career philosophy for a while, especially when I was climbing the ladder years back.
The Great Internal War I Thought I Won
I was in this brutal, high-stakes project lead competition. Two other guys were gunning for it. We were all sharp, but I decided to go for the full-frontal assault. I’m talking about subtle sabotage, strategically leaking just enough dirt about the other guys’ past mistakes, and generally making myself look like the only lifeboat on a sinking ship. It was messy. It was exhausting. And damn it, I won. I got the title. I got the raise.
When I pulled that 5 of Swords out for a personal reading right after, I laughed. I thought the card was celebrating my ruthless efficiency. I felt like the guy walking away, my cloak flapping in the wind, holding the trophy. That was the victory I wanted to document and share.
But that’s where you make the common mistake. You celebrate the taking of the swords, but you forget the price.
The Reversal: When Victory Turns to Dust
For the first six months, I was flying high. I had the corner office, the power, the new team. Then things started to crumble. The two guys I beat? One transferred out immediately. The other one? He stayed, and he became the chief of passive aggression. No one on my new team would look me in the eye. They saw what I did to the others, and they figured I’d do it to them too. Collaboration died on the vine.
I started noticing something scary. All the institutional knowledge I needed to run the department? It belonged to the people I had alienated. They weren’t actively sabotaging me, but they weren’t helping me either. They just let me hang myself on my own rope. If I asked a simple question, I’d get a six-page technical response that meant nothing. If I needed a quick favor, suddenly everyone was “too busy.”
I got the title, but I had zero authority, zero trust, and zero help. I was the leader of a ghost ship. That’s the 5 of Swords reversal. It’s not about the card itself reversing; it’s about the reality hitting you: Your win was actually your biggest loss. You won the battle, but you permanently poisoned the ecosystem. My career was on the verge of collapsing from inside out because I was totally isolated.
The Practice: Forcing the True Walk-Away
I kept running myself into the ground trying to force collaboration, trying to demand respect. I was working 16-hour days. I was screaming at my laptop. My blood pressure was through the roof. This went on for almost a year until my wife threatened to leave if I didn’t quit.
That was my rock bottom moment—my version of being locked out of the office. The career victory I clawed for was ruining my life outside of work. The stakes shifted from “winning a promotion” to “saving my marriage and health.” That was the true Five of Swords moment that finally sunk in: I needed to walk away from the conflict entirely, not just walk away with the swords.
Here’s the breakdown of my practice, step-by-step:
- I stopped fighting the daily battles. I literally started refusing to enter non-essential meetings.
- I pulled my head out of the sand and realized I had a massive network of decent human beings outside this current miserable company.
- I started emailing the people I had burned years ago, not to apologize (too late for that), but simply to ask for advice on my next move. I framed it as a “I need a fresh start” situation. I focused on humility, not achievement.
- I quietly updated my resume, focusing almost entirely on the few projects I hadn’t ruined and, critically, highlighting my capacity for long-term strategic team alignment, not just individual achievement.
- I forced the issue. I put in my resignation with no backup plan. I just needed out. This was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
The Payoff: The Real Victory
Guess what happened? That whole department imploded six months after I left. The toxicity I created lingered, and without a fall guy (me), the company had to finally admit the structure was bad. The guy who took my place—the former passive-aggressive guy—quit after three months because he couldn’t handle the mess.
My reversal? I took a lateral move for slightly less money at a completely different, smaller firm. But the culture is night and day. I leave at 5 PM. I talk to my wife. I don’t dread Monday mornings. I’m actually collaborating on projects I believe in.
The ultimate realization I want to share: When the 5 of Swords shows up in a career context, you need to ask yourself who the real winner is. If you’re the one walking away with the swords, make absolutely sure you didn’t leave your reputation, your health, and your relationships lying defeated on the ground behind you. The true “reversal” is realizing that sometimes, the only way to win is to leave the battlefield entirely, not try to carry all the burdens (swords) with you.
Don’t be the guy running away with the loot, thinking you’re a hero. Be the guy who learns the lesson and builds a life where you don’t even need the swords in the first place. That’s the practice worth keeping.
