nine of wands: fire & the number 9

hello, friends. earlier this month we explored the banked embers and small mercies of the nine of wands — and today, we're going to look a bit more in-depth at the main correspondences that make up this card. combining the element of fire and the number nine in this marseille reading style can open up all kinds of new layers of meaning in the tarot, and help us go beyond standardized keywords or unnecessarily stringent interpretations.

every card in the deck can hold so much magic, so much possibility, so much truth. let's dive in and see what else the nine of wands might reveal.

we've been talking about the element of fire all year long, which means you might be a little bored of it. and if that's the case, i get it! but listen: fire is such a wild, transformative, glorious, passionate, authentic element, and i think there's always more beauty to discover. between the sparks and the flames, the embers and the ashes, the heat and the light and the movement, fire creates brilliance and shadows, revealing and hiding in equal measure.

fire is also hungry: it feeds, it consumes, it devours. and in the feasting, fire transforms whatever has passed through it. keep feeding the fire, and it can change us too. neglect or ignore that fire, and it will either burn out and die, or find a way to feed itself — and potentially burn out of control, taking things we wouldn't have willingly offered.

for me, the nine of wands feels like embers: potential still present, but with a need for either activation or surrender. the fire has been burning brightly, but in the wake of the high energy and active motion of the eight of wands, this fire has given nearly all that it has to give. the fuel is running low, the kindling has long since been burned, and we're trying to protect the hot coals that remain.

by the time the story of fire reaches its burning conclusion, we may wonder what could possibly be left. the fire in the nine of wands is not the high energy sparks of the ace, nor is it the transformative forge of the five. instead, this is an energy that balances on a knife's edge and could tip either way, depending on how much more we're willing to give. are we willing to break something valuable apart in order to create more fuel for this fire? or are we ready to let it burn out, to rest and recover, so that we'll be ready to receive whatever new spark will eventually ignite within us?

from a numerological perspective, nine is fascinating, particularly in context of the tarot's minor arcana. nine is the end of the numerological cycle — the detachment and lessons, the emergence, the release. yet tarot's minor suits have ten cards, giving us an extra pip to contend with when telling these stories. and indeed, the ten of wands is usually described as burnout, overwhelm, nothing left to give.

which makes sense, given that ten pushes us beyond the ends of the cycle. it's an overextension, a forced next step, a going past what might be necessary. and while in some suits that commonly leads to an interpretation of something stabilizing and optimistic (most often in the suits of cups and pentacles), in these faster-moving elements of fire and air, the ten becomes exhausting, even frightening.

we'll talk about the ten more next month. but i would encourage you now to consider nine as the more natural or expected end of the suit: the logical conclusion, the wrapping up, the crossing of the finish line. and with the suit of wands specifically, we can read this nine energy as just that: detaching from the journey we've been on, thinking about what is left to be done, honoring our contributions as well as our limits.

the nine of wands represents an ending to our story. but given the volatile and hungry nature of fire, we have many possibilities: burnout or triumph. going it alone or gratefully receiving help. pushing forward or falling back. insisting on more or allowing something to be finished.

together, this combination of the number nine and the element of fire make for a card that is simultaneously a celebration and a warning: to note how far we have come, and how we ourselves have been transformed along the way. to be proud of our accomplishments while also preparing to begin stepping back from them. to respect our work so far and in the same breath, to begin giving up control of what the thing is.

if you've ever done a long-term creative project — writing and publishing a book, creating a sculpture or painting, designing a tarot deck, writing a song or an album or a musical, organizing a public event, building a menu, decorating a home, etc — you know how all-consuming it can be. yet at some point, you have to say to yourself "this is finished now, i believe" and let it stand on its own in the world.

once the work is in the world, in one sense it is no longer ours. instead it builds relationships of its own with all who read it, view it, listen to it, participate in it. the thing becomes independent, moving through its own experiences, becoming something else. and we have to detach from it, at least a little bit, lest we become consumed by every review, every blurb, every comment, every critique. not because we don't love it, but because we do.

this isn't always an easy process, because we do actually have a choice. we can insist on staying attached to the thing anyway, can refuse to let go — but it will have a cost.

with the nine of wands, it's up to us to determine if we're willing to pay that price.

how do you understand the nine of wands? what does this card mean to you in readings, and how has your interpretation of this card shifted and changed over time? let me know in the comments!