Man, sometimes you just hit a wall, you know? You’ve got this big idea, this dream humming in your head, and it feels like a mountain you gotta climb. For me, it was this old house. Not just any old house, it was my old house, sitting there, begging for a full-on gut job and a whole new lease on life. I’d been dreaming about it for years – tearing down walls, adding a new kitchen, making the backyard actually usable. But every time I sat down to think about it, the sheer scale of it just paralyzed me. The money, the time, the mess… it was just too much, or so it felt.
I was stuck, big time. I needed a push, some kind of sign, anything to just get me moving. I’m usually not one for waiting around, but this particular dream was different. It felt too big to even start. That’s when I remembered my old tarot deck, sitting in a dusty drawer. I don’t always pull cards for every little thing, but for big, gnawing questions, sometimes it just gives you a different way to look at things. This time, the question was huge: “Will this renovation dream actually come true?”
My Personal Ten of Disks Encounter
I figured, if I was gonna ask a Yes/No question about a big, material dream, there was only one card that felt right: the Ten of Disks. That card, for me, always screamed completion, legacy, solid foundations, and really, just all your ducks in a row on the material plane. It’s the ultimate “everything’s gonna be alright, physically speaking” card. So, I grabbed my deck, shuffled it really well, focusing on that one question: “Will my dream of renovating this house come true?”
- I held the deck, feeling the weight of the question.
- Closed my eyes, took a deep breath.
- Cut the deck.
- Pulled the top card.
Boom. The Ten of Disks, staring right back at me. No kidding. My first thought? “Well, there’s your damn ‘Yes’.” It felt like the universe, or whatever, was just nodding its head vigorously. But here’s the thing about a Ten of Disks “Yes” – it’s not a fairy godmother waving a wand. It’s a “Yes, if you put in the work.” It’s a “Yes, if you build it, piece by piece.” And that’s what really resonated with me.

From “Yes” to Hands-On Action
That card, man, it wasn’t just an answer; it was fuel. It didn’t magically put a crew on my doorstep, but it lit a fire under my butt. I started small, just like the Ten of Disks shows ten individual coins or disks, each one a part of the whole. My dream wasn’t one giant blob; it was a million tiny tasks.
Here’s how I broke it down, once that “Yes” sank in:
- First, I grabbed a pen and paper. Forget the fancy software. I drew out floor plans, messy sketches of what I wanted. I looked at what was there, and what needed to change.
- Then, I hit the internet and the hardware stores. Pinterest boards filled up with design ideas. I started pricing lumber, tiles, kitchen cabinets. Man, that was a wake-up call on the budget front.
- I started talking to people. Plumbers, electricians, structural engineers. Just getting a feel for what was even possible and what was gonna bust the bank. Some of those conversations were tough.
- I tackled the smallest, most annoying thing first. For me, it was clearing out the garage. Just getting that one, relatively easy win under my belt made a huge difference.
The Ten of Disks kept nudging me. It wasn’t about instant gratification. It was about seeing the bigger picture, the long game. Each small step, each “disk” I put in place, built towards that final vision. There were days, a lot of them, when I wanted to throw in the towel. Days when I found unexpected rot behind a wall, or a plumbing issue that cost way more than I anticipated. Those were the times when that initial “Yes” from the card came back to me. Not as a guarantee that it would be easy, but as a reminder that the effort would lead to the desired outcome.
I learned to embrace the grind. I learned how to use a saw, how to install drywall, how to lay tile, mostly by watching a ton of YouTube videos and making a ton of mistakes. My hands got rough, my back ached, and my clothes were perpetually covered in sawdust and paint. It was grueling, dirty work, but with every nail I hammered, every coat of paint I brushed on, I saw the dream taking shape, literally.
The house transformed, slowly but surely. The ugly, outdated kitchen became a bright, open space. The cramped living room felt expansive. The backyard, once a weed-infested mess, turned into a cozy oasis. It wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, but it was my dream, built with my own hands, fueled by that single tarot card’s encouragement.
Looking back, the Ten of Disks didn’t just say “Yes.” It laid out the blueprint for how that “Yes” would actually manifest. It showed me that dreams don’t just happen; you build them, disk by disk, with solid effort and persistence. And that’s a lesson that sticks with you, long after the last paint stroke dries.
