The Lovers are six, the choice made; the Chariot is seven, driving forward with it. A figure stands in a chariot drawn by two sphinxes, one black, one white, facing opposite ways — and he holds no reins. That's the whole mechanism: mastery isn't pulling, it's will aiming contradictory forces at a single target. Seven here is the first time on the road alone (recall the minor Sevens) — the city is behind him and he's leaving known ground.
Where you'll recognise it: the push after a decision, pressing an inner contradiction down and moving anyway, the phases you get through on willpower. This card is about control and direction; its force is great, and rigid.
Running well, the Chariot is the most propulsive state there is: clear target, undistracted, using even the opposites. Stuck, its problem is only knowing forward — control becomes compulsion, the wrong direction can't be stopped, or the two beasts really do run opposite ways and tear the chariot apart. No reins is the point: this kind of control runs on focus, and the moment focus slackens, it scatters.
