A word that lately gets thrown around so casually it almost feels like the four horsemen are exhausted from jumping out of their box just to be shoved back in again. But in Greek, the word simply means “the lifting of the veil.” No “end of the world”, just the moment when the film over your eyes comes off... the pink glasses, the innocence, the childhood illusion. And yes, it feels like the end of the world. Just not the world. it's the one you were living in. And if we’re honest, that world probably wasn’t that great to begin with. It was just yours, so who exactly had the right to decide when it should end?

In the Book of Revelation, John speaks of seven seals. And this isn’t decorative symbolism. Seven is you. More precisely, your spine. Seven chakras (energetic centers in human biology) from tailbone to crown. So when we speak about a personal apocalypse, we are not talking about men on horses. We’re talking about the way the seven points you’ve been standing on get opened, one by one. Everyone has their own route, but all seven are non-negotiable. No discounts. No fast-tracking.

The first seal. Tailbone. Muladhara. The ground beneath your feet. It gets ripped away first, without warning. Suddenly, what you thought was stable is gone. Job. Home. Health. Country. A relationship you sat in comfortably for ten years or whatever, never noticing the chair only had three legs. From this seal rides the first horseman... the Conqueror on a white horse. Crown shining, bow in hand, eyes burning: “I’ll rebuild everything. Better than before.” Innocent, like a child on the first day of school. If only he knew who was standing behind him in line.

The second seal. Lower abdomen. Svadhisthana. Desire, fire, the very juice of life. It breaks, and the Red Rider arrives. With a sword. War. Not the kind on TV. His war asks a sharper question: whose desire is this, really? Yours? Or something handed to you long ago in a pretty box labeled “this is what you should want”? And suddenly you realize you’ve been chasing a goal that was never yours. Cooking someone else’s meal on your own stove. Seasoned with your own nerves and your own hopes and your own resources. His sword cuts through illusions of desire completely. What remains is raw truth… and, eventually, a strange relief, if you can breathe through it.

The third seal. Solar plexus. Manipura. “I can.” It breaks, and the Black Rider arrives, holding scales... Hunger... Not for food, but for cost. Suddenly, the bill appears for everything you spent to stay “on top”... when you lost sleep. Friendships neglected. A body that tolerated you… until it didn’t anymore. Mornings when you couldn’t stand your own reflection. This rider is an accountant. Quietly counting. Then looking up at you: “You’re bankrupt, dear”... There’s no bargaining here. He doesn’t lie, he simply calculates...

The fourth seal. Heart. Anahata. And here… you don’t turn around. The Pale Rider arrives. Death... Followed by hell. But not your physical death. The death of a version of you. The person you believed yourself to be. The love you held onto. The relationship you endured for years hoping “he’ll be ready soon,” only to realize five, ten, fifteen etc. years later that it’s no longer him who isn’t ready… it’s you who can no longer even see him. The heart knows the difference between “it’s over” and “maybe one more try.” When it says it’s over, it is. Death does not negotiate. And the hell that follows is simply life without what you thought you couldn’t live without. Turns out, you can. The only danger is getting lost in endless loops of doubt.

The fifth seal. Throat. Vishuddha. Voice. When it breaks, for the first time in your very proper life, you hear your own sound. Not your mother’s voice in your head. Not a mindfulness podcast. Yours. Rough. Unfamiliar. Unused. And the first words you speak likely won’t be pretty. “I’m done.” Or “No.” Or simply “Enough.” The world doesn’t collapse. Well, it does, but not yours. It collapses for those who were comfortable inside your silence. Let them have their apocalypse.

The sixth seal. Between the brows. Ajna. The so-called third eye. When it opens, you don’t suddenly become enlightened or gifted. That’s something charlatans sell. You simply stop pretending not to see what has been in front of you for ao many years. Who comes into your life, and why. Where you sell yourself cheap (or when you "work for food"). Where you give yourself away for free. Which life script you’ve been replaying on loop with such dedication even Konstantin Stanislavski would say “I believe you” and quietly cry. This seal shows nothing new. It reveals what you always knew but refused to acknowledge. And yes, it’s uncomfortable. That kind of discomfort you don’t come back from.

The seventh seal. Crown. Sahasrara. And here, in Revelation, it says: “There was silence in heaven for about half an hour.” Silence. That is the only pause in the entire text. Those thirty minutes are the point of all of this. Everything stripped away. No supports. No borrowed desires. The price paid. Old love buried. Voice found. Eyes open. And then… silence. Not enlightenment... Not white robes and wise smiles. It is just quiet there. A depth of quiet you’ve never known... And if you don’t rush to fill it... something happens there. The reason all of this began. 

A trumpet sounds. Put John aside. Take out your tarot deck. You see the twentieth arcana -Judgement. An angel above, blowing a trumpet. Below are open graves. People rising.... Naked.... Reaching upward.... And here is the key: no one is pulling them out! The angel does not reach down. They rise on their own. They hear, and they stand. No punishment... No frying pans.... No condemnation... You simply don’t go back to that life anymore. That’s it!

Seven seals opened. Four horsemen passed through. You had your Conqueror, your Sword, your Hunger, your Death. You found your voice. Opened your eyes. Reached the silence. And in that silence... you finally hear the call! Not for everyone! Only for your frequency! That’s the point. The grave is the version of you that is already dead. And what rises is only the part of you that can hear the call. The rest stays buried. Forever.

That is why Judgement is the most honest card. It promises nothing like “everything will be fine.” It promises only this: what rises will be your true self. Naked. Without the social costume you wore for years. That costume stays in the grave. And honestly, don’t mourn it. It was too tight anyway.

In many decks, there is water beneath the scene. A sea, a river. Sometimes the coffins float. This is not decoration. Resurrection is a wet process. It dissolves form. What rises does not emerge polished and composed. It rises like something just born. Because it is.

And one more thing. In Revelation, after the first trumpet, comes the second. Then the third. Up to seven. The call you rise to is not the last... There will be more. In tarot, too: after Judgement comes The World. Not a happy ending! A new reality! A figure dancing within a circle, surrounded by the four elements. After awakening, you don’t retire. You step into a world where everything is yours to move through. This moment comes more than once in life. For some, twice. For others, three times. Each time, it ends the life that came before.

You can’t prevent it. You can delay it with alcohol, work, distractions, new relationships to drown out the old... yeah, it works for a while. But the horsemen are patient. They wait. Some meet this at thirty. Some at forty-five, fifty-five... And some… never. And that “never” is the most terrifying scenario of all. One John never imagined. The seals remain untouched. The horsemen leave. The trumpet sounds. And no one rises. The grave stays closed from the inside.

A life lived without ever opening. 

It happens more often than you think. It’s just that no one writes about it. There’s nothing to write. 

And finally. In Revelation, it is the Lamb who opens the seals. From within. The command comes from there. No one arrives from the outside until, somewhere at three in the morning, you quietly say: “That’s it. I’m opening.” Even in the Judgement card, the grave is already open. No one locked you in. There is no one to blame! 

So… which seal is being knocked on right now? 

That part, only you can answer. And only you can open it. Alone. No witnesses. Most likely at three in the morning.