13. Death
i. The Nutshell
Upright
Death evolves by smashing the record on repeat and is mainly about what needs to be cleared so you can paradoxically live. It’s 24 carat gold rebirth. It’s the exhalation of survival patterns that once protected you but now prevent your growth. In my opinion, there’s a rebrand needed and this card would do better re-titled,‘Transform’ so there’s fewer faintings when it appears. One of my own observations of this card is the flag it waves to past lives. I’ve personally had experiences that have mirrored my natal chart and current transits, where the south node is pointing to certain energy that is playing out alongside the Death card. Think old wounds, old arguments, unresolved tension that is karmically reappearing to sort before history repeats itself. It’s a total pull-your-socks-up energy that wants you to grow and stop shrinking ready for your soul’s predetermined next chapter.
This card reveals, and it requires you to get honest about what you’ve outgrown and this is especially true if it relates to the stuff you swore you’d never let go of. Death doesn’t take anything you still need, but it does ask if you’re brave enough to become someone you haven’t met yet. So I do want to highlight the identity side of the Death card above all else. It works for the person you’re becoming, probably louder than any other card, including the Tower.
Keywords: Transformation, release, rebirth, evolution, closure, surrender, past lives, soul connections.
Translation: Stop clinging. This is an upgrade not a server crash.
Reversed
When Death shows up reversed, you might be fighting the inevitable. The transition is already in motion but you’re dragging your feet because you want guarantees before you let go. Understandable. Also not how transformation works because you only feel stuck when you keep negotiating with change like it’s optional. Your soul has a mission and this is where it elbows your ego out of the way of it’s goal. You might be obsessing over the past, resisting a needed ending, or keeping something half-alive just so you don’t have to deal with the fallout. But let’s be honest… this is the part where staying safe means staying small. Release the version of you that’s expired because that lives in a past life, a past you, and the past full stop.
Keywords: Resistance to change, fear of endings, clinging, stagnation, avoidance.
Translation: Get the cones out, this is transformation in progress.
ii. Illus-traits
A quick glance at the Death card’s symbolic traits in the Rider-Waite-Smith deck - what’s ending, evolving, or waiting for you to stop panicking?
Skeleton in Armour – Stripped to essentials. These are the bones that survive the purge.
White Rose – Purity through endings. The symbol of what's left once ego’s wheels fall off.
Rising Sun – Something’s beginning, whether you’re ready or not. Death does more than shut the front door, it revolves the entire house.
Fallen Figures – Titles, identities, attachments, material possessions… none of them are exempt.
Black Flag – Endings with design. There's structure to this repurposing shift.
Horse – Forward movement, even when it feels like loss. You don’t get to stop change, but you can decide how to meet it.
iii. Influences
Planetary:
Death is ruled by the Pluto known as the psychological excavator: the part of you that gets sick of surface-level coping and goes digging for the real cause. Pluto strips it down to bedrock. It asks what’s festering under all your ‘I’m fine(s)’ and whether you're ready to stop all that or keep pretending it’s character-building. When Death arrives, Pluto is blunt in wanting you to face the expired version of whatever situation has keeled over.
Natal House(s):
Death resonates with the Eighth House, the zone of deep transformation, shared resources, sex, expiration, and everything taboo or emotionally non-refundable. This is where the clean-outs of stuff, stories, ties and entanglements happen. The Second House shadows it from across the chart, grounding all that inner alchemy by asking what you actually value in your life now? And, what are you willing to give up to become who you say you want to be?
Astrological Sign(s):
The sign of Scorpio relates to the Death card being intense, transformative and has the guts to go deeper and come back changed. Death doesn’t splash about in the shallow end. It wants to know if you’re ready to stop telling yourself something still works when it clearly doesn’t. Opposite is Taurus, reminding you that not everything has to disintegrate because some things are still required for the rebuild. So the question expands into what you should keep as well as what should you let go of?
Numerologically:
Death is Thirteen, which reduces to Four. Thirteen is the number nobody invites to the party which is a shame because it comes with the real gift of change that’s ironically more stable. It’s transitional and unavoidable. Here, four relates to what’s left standing after the collapse. Thirteen says, ‘let it go’ because four wants to rebuild, bigger and better. So the focus then gravitates as to why are you trying to resurrect something lifeless in lieu of ploughing your energy into something with legacy?
Element: Water represents emotions, intuition, flow and change. The Death card moves through this emotional current, much like someone surfing. This isn't a gentle shoreline lapping - it's the riptide of your true self that demands attention. The water helps you stay above rather than overwhelm you but only if you stop fighting it. Breathe out what you can't change or control. Allow your feelings to surface, let the waves flow, and trust that what remains is meant for you. Are you holding your breath, hoping change will overlook you?
iv. A Day in the Life of the Death Card
Well That Escalated Quickly
You treat endings like personal insults and cling to dead situations like they still have a pulse. You keep watering wilted dreams and call it loyalty. You resist every sign to move on, but insist you’re ‘just not ready yet’ in George McFly’s tone, even though the universe is wheeling out a hearse and blasting dramatic organ music. You delay the inevitable by over-planning your rebirth, hoping transformation will schedule itself around your comfort zone.
Adjusting the Knobs
You know you need to put the defibrillation paddles down, but you're still negotiating with them like they owe you closure. You’ve cleaned out the metaphorical closet, but haven’t taken the donation bags to the op-shop. You’re somewhere between mourning what was and pretending you're totally fine with what’s next. You’re thinking about change, talking about change, and dreaming about change, but you haven’t posted your RSVP to the transformation party yet.
Unsubscribed from Self-Sabotage
You’re pruning without the drama. You’ve stopped trying to save what’s clearly over with and started making space for what wants to grow next. You’re not rushing to a reinvention festival, but you’re also not sentimental about dragging expired versions of yourself around. You understand that transformation is a slow process and you're letting this unfold without the micro-management.
Writing the TED Talk
You high-five change at the party entrance and let go of what's done without trying to make it look good. You release by trusting every ending carries its own spark for what’s next, and not panicking when things go dark for a bit. You’ve stopped confusing survival with identity and started letting evolution be honest.
v. Working with these Energies
Living Death with Courage
This archetype is the great declutterer of identities, habits, relationships, and storylines that have outlived their usefulness. It arrives to strip away what’s false and demands your participation in endings. It challenges you to stop romanticising what’s hit the dust and start getting honest about what’s weighing you down:
1. Recognise what’s run its course
– What are you pretending still works?
– What are you keeping alive out of guilt, fear, or habit?
– If this ended tomorrow, what part of you would feel relieved?
2. End before it gets ugly
– Where are you waiting for things to fall apart instead of bowing out with respect?
– What would it look like to initiate the ending, rather than endure it?
– Where are you stalling because you think pain means permanence?
3. Grieve with your eyes open
– What are you afraid to feel fully in case it never stops?
– Where can you honour your loss with care and dignity for everyone involved?
– What if mourning is part of the transformation instead of the price you pay for it?
4. Make space without needing a replacement
– Can you clear something out without rushing to refill it?
– What does it feel like to be in-between identities, plans, or chapters?
– Where are you trying to rebrand instead of rebuild?
5. Trust that what dies becomes fuel
– What are you learning from what’s ending?
– How has this release already made you lighter, clearer, or more honest?
– What if you reframed the Death card as the Birth card? How would you be seeing things differently?
vi. Building Skills
1. The ABCs of Letting Go
Death isn’t the end. In Tarot, it’s the release that clears space for something more honest, aligned, and alive. But endings, even necessary ones, can be painful. That’s where conscious problem-solving comes in: to walk through changes with clarity and intention.
Choose one problem or recurring pattern that feels ready to shift. Use the ABCs of problem-solving:
– A is for Alternatives: Brainstorm new, constructive responses to the issue. Get creative, no judgement.
– B is for Best: Evaluate your list and choose the most helpful option.
– C is for Commitment: Pick a time and place to put your new response into action.
Death asks us to stop recycling what no longer fits and start choosing what does. You’re now re-engaging with life on purpose.
2. Somatic Surrender: Letting Go with the Body
A gentle practice to help you process the emotional release that Death represents. Allow the ending to move through your body, so something new has room to emerge.
Step One. Ground the End (2–3 minutes)
Sit or lie down. Place both hands on the ground or floor, or your thighs - something stable.
As you exhale, imagine letting the weight of the day drop downward. Feel gravity do the work.
Say silently or aloud: “This is ending, and I am still here.” Let that be your mantra.
Step Two. Exhale the Residue (3–5 minutes)
Take a deep breath in through your nose. Now exhale with sound: sigh, hum, whisper, shout - whatever feels right. Do this several times.
With each exhale, imagine you’re clearing emotional sediment from the edges of your body. You don’t have to name it. Just let it leave.
Step Three. Kind Hand (2–3 minutes)
Take one hand and place it flat on the back of your neck or heart space - somewhere tender. Let it rest there like you’re comforting a friend.
Say: ‘Something is passing. I don’t have to rush what comes next.’ Let your nervous system feel held with the warmth and pressure of your hand. Notice the pressure you’re using.
Step Four. Doorway Pause (1–2 minutes)
Stand in a doorway and let your fingertips rest gently on each side of the frame. Take a moment to feel the threshold:
- behind you, what is closing
- before you, what is unknownYou don’t have to walk through the doorway yet. Just be in the in-between. This is the portal of the Death card; the not here, the not there, the becoming.
vii. Embodiment
Tarot is cellular and shows up in the body as release. It’s the sloughing off of cells and the firming up of the reticular dermis. Here are some ways to embrace Death today:
Smell:
What does transformation smell like? Something crisp or comforting, or change you didn’t know you needed until it arrived.
Body:
Where are you holding grief? A dripping nose? In your lungs? That one shoulder you swear is ‘just stress’? Try letting those shoulders drop for a moment. Shake them out. Breathe consciously: out for a second longer than in. See what comes into your awareness when you stop rehearsing the role of ‘the one who holds it all together’ and meet your sadness with an open heart of self compassion.
Soundtrack:
What music feels like a dignified ending? Think fewer violins and more stripped-back honesty. No power ballads or dramatic swells, simply one song that reminds you that endings are not failures.
Action:
What can you release today? A plan that’s clearly not working? A grudge past its expiry date? A task you’re doing out of guilt instead of need? Death asks for one honest, deliberately clean release. What practical way could you support your nervous system during change, such as a massage?
Nature cue:
What’s showing you how to let go - a winter tree shedding bark or leaves? Flower petals on the ground? Like winter turns to spring, decay becomes nourishment, reminding us that even in death, there is hope for new life.
Notice what loosens you:
Death invites clarity. Where are you ready to stop dragging the past into the present? Let this card remind you to not wait for a crisis to make a clean break. Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is stop carrying what’s done.
viii. Your Impressions
Look at the Death card in your own deck if possible. Take a moment to see it without bracing for impact.
Where does your attention go first - the skeletal figure, the fallen bodies, the rising sun, the white horse, the flag? Does it feel ominous, inevitable, or liberating? What part of the image feels like an end, and what hints that it could actually be an exciting new beginning?
Now check your body. Are you tensing up, or letting something drop? Is there relief tucked inside the discomfort? Do you feel resistance, readiness, or a combination of both; like the moment just before you cut your own hair and trust it’ll somehow work out?
If this card could speak, it would ask what needs to conclude with dignity.
ix. Intuitive Meaning
Use this space to explore what Death means to you as part of your soul’s intended path:
When have you released something that felt essential, only to realise it was just habit?
Where are you still negotiating with what’s already over?
What would it look like to let the chapter end before life rips out the pages for you?
Applied insight with a three-card reading using the Death card as your anchor:
What needs to go so something new can grow?
What are you clinging to out of habit and what does this hide?
What identity, belief, or dynamic has reached its expiration date?
Pull or shuffle-fling your cards and note your feelings. Take your time and let the answers unfold. Write three ‘you’ words that relate to your current experience:
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x. Closing Reflection: Track Your Evolving Lens
Your relationship with each card will grow over time because it’s meant to shaped by your life. Consider the prompts below to revisit and reflect.
What I thought this card meant when I first pulled it: —————————————————
A recent experience that changed how I see it: —————————————————
How I feel about it now, in my body or life: —————————————————
What surprised me as this card kept showing up: —————————————————
One way this card is living in my life right now: —————————————————
If this card visited me today as a guide, what would it want me to remember? —————————————————
Revisit these after a week, a moon phase, or a meaningful moment. Let the card evolve as you do.
If you feel a quiet sense of recognition, curiosity and want to explore it, browse the sessions page for what feels right.