Prince of Cups

At first glance, you'd think this Prince had gotten the short end of the stick. All the other Princes are shown riding into battle well armed or protected; what is our emotional champion supposed to do with this chalice, rust his foe's armor?

Recently, after I'd been expounding on this cup-bearer's sensitivity and heady idealism, a friend asked me why the Book of Thoth describes him so unfavorably, listing his moral characteristics as "subtlety, secret violence, and craft." I decided to resist the urge to see these as sinister traits, and instead note that without sword or staff or shield, these instincts are simply all he has to work with. If he is to succeed in his quest (and he really wants to!) then he's got to develop a way of dealing with opposition that makes the most of his natural skills.

Of course I instantly thought of martial arts. I've been a student of Ving Tsun kung fu for almost two years -- a pretty short period of time in the scheme of things, but long enough to become fascinated by the system's reliance upon sensitivity instead of strength. If you are keenly aware of the space your enemy inhabits and can intuit the mistakes he's likely to make, then the moment you make contact with him, your hands know exactly where to go. Rather than waste energy with complicated movements, Ving Tsung encourages you to flow toward your opponent as flexibly and relentlessly as water. Beginners practice a basic punch that cycles repeatedly at chest-level -- straight from the heart.

In following up to write this post, I checked out the Book of Thoth myself to see what else was written there; to my surprise, I found that it attributes the Prince of Cups to the 61st hexagram of the I Ching, which happens to be "Kung Fû." You could have knocked me over with a feather! (Which would be a perfectly appropriate thing to do, considering the matter at hand.)