Ordinary Magic Tarot: Queen of Swords

I need to tell you about Brenda...

​Airport runs, check-ins, and the quiet chaos of terminals are sensory experiences that have become an integral part of modern air travel. I’m not a nervous flyer, but everything leading up to the boarding gate can feel like a test of patience and composure.

I can’t recall exactly when I became aware of the character Brenda represents, but she emerged as the embodiment of that threshold moment, a gatekeeper, if you will. If you have your ducks in a row, she’ll lower her sword and let you pass. On the contrary, if you don’t, she will not hesitate to hold the line.

Brenda doesn’t care if you throw a tantrum loud enough to draw a crowd, do a song and dance about your fifty million air miles, or even have the airport manager on speed dial. Once the gate is closed, it’s closed. It’s not that she can’t pull strings, she could, but your half-truths and excuses don’t warrant it.
She’s nearly impossible to bypass, her defenses forged from experience and discernment. Tears, charm, manipulation, none of it moves her. Brenda’s clarity is her armor.

The only thing that softens her stance is truth. The quiet confession that you had one too many drinks the night before, or that your smudged mascara isn’t from any grand catastrophe but from a parking lot argument with the now ex-boyfriend who decided, at the last minute, to stay behind and party with his friends.
Brenda doesn’t need the full story. She doesn’t crave details or explanations. She values honesty, the kind that slices through pretence. Offer her that, and she lowers her sword to grant access, not as an act of mercy, but as an acknowledgement of the truth.
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I’ve met many a Brenda in my life, and let me tell you, the name holds up. Let’s just say it’s ‘sharper’ than it sounds.