eight of wands: a burning fuse

hello, friends. july was a hell of a month.

i don't know about you, but i am absolutely exhausted by times and events being unprecedented. yet, still, we find ourselves living in a period of history where every system is being pushed to its limits, where we are actively watching structures and ideologies collapse, where pressure builds in new ways every day.

maybe you're tired. maybe you're angry. maybe you're sick of this shit. and i really, really get it — i too am a human being in this world, one who is exhausted, overworked, heartbroken, and trying to survive in a capitalist hellscape. nobody is okay right now.

yet the world turns madly on. we continue to lean on each other. we continue to survive.

many days, i find myself asking impossible questions rather than uncovering perfect answers — but sometimes that's simply where we have to be. in these endlessly unprecedented days, in this rapidly changing world, this is what i have to offer: the wisdom of the tarot, the magic of the collective, the eagerness to learn new things, and the hunger to put those things into practice. my spiritual practices, and my community practices, are what keep me anchored right now. they give me the courage to keep going.

(and if you're looking for help keeping your head up, my partner jeanna kadlec and i have been cooking up something special that we'll be sharing on the new moon!)

i'm glad you're here. take a deep breath for me, and let it out slowly. we're here, we're together, we love the tarot, and we're doing our best. let's go.

transformation always has a cost. so does freedom.

we're in a collective eight year: a year of strength, of justice, of discipline, of devotion. a year of moving steadily towards a fixed point. a year of the only way out is through. and this month, as we look at the eight of wands and this potent combination of the number eight and the element of fire, with the sun burning brightly in the fixed fire of leo, it might feel like there's nothing but intensity.

the fire that we have been carefully tending, the work that we have been dedicated to, is roaring. momentum has been building, power has been accessed, and the eight of wands races down a set track, gobbling up fuel, gaining speed and blazing towards the end goal.

i love a good metaphor. and when i think about the hungry heat of the eight of wands, i can't help but think about a lit fuse: concentrated, focused, transformational fire that moves with purpose but requires immense control, planning, and intentionality to wield safely.

fuses come in many sizes, are designed for many utilities and purposes. but until they are lit, they are simply dormant tools, waiting to be utilized. the fuse itself is a safety device, one that we prepare in advance to ensure that we can ignite something from a distance: we add our fire and stand back, letting the flame follow its laid path, relying on its natural characteristics to accomplish our goals.

so much work has to be done in order to ensure that the fuse is functional, organized, and properly timed. we cannot light a fuse until we know what it's for, where it's going, when it should be lit, and what will happen when the spark reaches its destination. simply lighting a fuse without intention is chaos, a recipe for disaster, a sacrifice without meaning.

by the time we reach the eight of wands in the minor arcana's story of fire, so much planning and dreaming and collaborating and soul searching has already been done. but after the seeking and finding of the seven of wands, the eight is prepared to illuminate that explored path for all, to race ahead with no holds barred, and to finally fully accomplish all that we have been working towards — for better or for worse.

all that work we've done, all that track we've laid, all that experience that we now have tending and harnessing our fire: it all comes into play, right now.

when we talk about this tarot card, we're often focusing on the moving without obstacles part: using the many pieces that we have put into place, our sense of purpose and excitement, our structures and systems, our necessary frictions and our ego-driven joy, to barrel towards a clear goal with no hesitation or frustration. the eight of wands represents a relatively brief moment in time where we move with purpose and power, putting everything we have into making as much progress as possible, as quickly as possible.

and sometimes, when the plan is clear and sound, this is fucking delicious. it's the sensation of everything falling into place, having exactly what we need exactly when we need it, knowing which resources we can rely on, and feeling a deep sense of confidence and purpose in every single move we make. this is the best possible iteration of the eight of wands: racing forward, joyful power, devotion and courage.

but other times, when the fuse gets lit before we're ready, it can be far too fast, far too intense, far too much. in these kinds of experiences, we are deeply aware of what every step is costing us, feel like our agency is completely gone, and have completely lost our grip on any semblance of control. the eight of wands can feel overwhelming in its need for speed, its almost frantic rush to get to where it's ready to be. we might even be grieving the fuse as it burns, racing behind the fire and trying to minimize damage along the way until it finally, mercifully, burns out.

this duality, this discomfort, isn't an accident. remember that fire consumes. and the faster it burns, the more fuel it needs to keep going. as the spark moves down the fuse, it devours what is in its path and then leaps forward, craving more, demanding everything. we can use this hunger to our advantage, or we can be devoured by it.

transformation always has a cost. so does freedom. the eight of wands is not a solitary energy: if we decide to let ourselves burn intentionally, burn truly, burn fully, we don't have to bear that cost alone. we can light the fuse and transform together, and can rush forward with arms linked, hearts aligned.

we can lay a path as a collective, knowing that the destination we are moving towards is one that will benefit, inspire, and transform the many.

as we sit in this eight year, in the eighth month of the year, in leo's fixed fire, it might feel like everything is moving too fast — like control has been entirely lost, like we're spectators in our own lives. rapidly changing political landscapes, endlessly moving goalposts, growing unrest and unease and unhappiness. people insisting that we have to vote a certain way, behave a certain way, protest a certain way. building hope and building rage, all at once.

the fuses that are racing forward may not be ones that we can entirely control. i'm not going to tell you that one election will fix facism, that one protest will change history, that one mutual aid group will solve hunger. but the scary fuses are not the only ones burning: there are also beautiful movements that already exist, if you take the time to look for them, if you're interested in getting involved, if you want to leave helplessness behind and take action instead. mutual aid groups and food pantries, book clubs and petitions, mask blocs and strategy centers, and so many ways to volunteer that listing them all requires entire directories.

we are not without power. we are not without agency. we are not without hope. and just like with the eight of wands, we can either be dragged along in exhaustion — or we can lean in to the movement and ride it out, together, doing what we can every day. we can figure out which resources we can readily offer, and get plugged into actions that make a difference. we can build the world we want to see, instead of waiting for a political leader to save us.

the rapid movement of the eight of wands transforms. we will not be the same in the aftermath. change and growth is happening quickly. are you willing to take responsibility for the shifts that we are in the midst of? are you willing to learn and adapt, to grow and discover, to put it effort and recognize your role? are you willing to meet the moment?

as we move into this new month, take stock of where you are, of how you are, of who you are. do you feel energized, inspired, ready to rush forward and throw yourself into your clear, authentic goals? or are you weary, scattered, desperate for rest? is there hope? or is there only surrender?

what have you been building, and to what end? how much do you have to give, and what are you willing to give it for? is the heat that is rising, the flame that is growing, one that you're able to keep tending alone? or would you be better served by tending an established spark, one that you can lend your strength to? in what ways are you willing to change, and in what ways do you feel steady, solid, unchanging?

transformation always has a cost. so does freedom. how is your fire burning? what is being consumed? what are you helping to transform? where are you building freedom? and who will you be on the other side of this long fight?

sending you safety and hope this month, and always. thanks for being here.