two of wands: the element of fire

hello, friends. this month we've looked at the two of wands overall, and also dug a bit further into the ways that the energy of the number two shapes this card. today, we're going to look closer at how fire is relevant to this energy.

fire is our element of heat, of passion, of the erotic. this is the crackling momentum that drives us forward, that reflects a soul-deep urge to move and create and destroy. fire is transformative, evolutionary, something that heats and illuminates but also consumes and changes and reforms and refines.

yet after looking at the patient quietude and thoughtful reflection of the number two, it might feel like all of fire's passion and movement is being smothered or restricted, like this might be an uncomfortable energy to sit in. with fire necessarily banked or contained while we make a decision or reflect on how we want to proceed, how do we understand fire's presence in the two of wands?

perhaps more helpful questions might be: is this fire really restrained, or just building steadily? how many shapes does fire take? what does a slow burn look like? what does it take to build a fire that feels true, real, that has the potential to last? what good does banking a fire even do?

remember that fire isn't just hot, uncontrolled flames that burn through everything in their path. fire is also warmth, heat, light, energy. fire lives in sparks and in embers, creates smoke and ash, can simmer or blaze.

and a slow burn, a banked fire, has a specific kind of longevity, a particular potential for lasting heat. when we nourish those early sparks, when we deliberately protect the flames, when we commit to feeding this fire over time, those sparks can become something sustainable. in taking the time to let the fire build responsibly and devotedly, we can ensure that it will actually last long enough to accomplish what we want to accomplish.

if you've ever watched later seasons of the television show survivor, you might be familiar with the infamous fire-building competition. two players, armed with the same basic materials of flint and steel, tinder, kindling, and wood, compete to build a small fire on a tabletop, each trying to get their flames to reach a certain height before the other person. the winner gets to move to the final stage of the competition, while the other person is eliminated right before the end of the game — which means it's often a nail-biter with high stakes and lots of emotion.

there are always people who are really good at building fires, who have clearly practiced at home before the show started, who might even be known around camp for the talent. these folks understand the patience that it takes to build a fire that lasts: arranging tinder and magnesium shavings into a safe little nest, using the flint and steel to make sparks that land in that nest, gently and carefully blowing on those sparks to help them catch on the tinder, feeding those fragile catchings with kindling without smothering them, eventually stacking wood onto the new flames until they are greedily rising higher and higher.

every stage brings a chance for the sparks to die, for the fire to fail, for the challenge to be lost. every stage requires full and focused attention.

as with anything, when someone is really good at something, they make it look easy. yet when we see two people doing this side by side, one person with a beautifully-constructed fire burning brightly while the other person struggles, it hammers home how this really is a skills challenge, rather than a matter of luck.

building a proper fire takes time, devotion, concentration, and desire. if we don't care about it, the fire will simply burn out before it's even begun.

this is the two of wands: the patience to tend something, the willingness to understand what the fire needs to grow safely, the dedication to observe and learn. the humility to recognize process, to understand what something will require in order to succeed. the devotion to wanting the thing strongly enough to protect it.

and in two of wands moments, we must consider: what does our fire need to thrive, to last, to build tall and strong enough to help us reach our ultimate goal?

how do you tend your fire? when new sparks light within you, how do you nourish and protect them? how do you decide which ones to feed, and which ones to let die? and what does your fire require, to help it last long enough to become a tool for creation, transformation, destruction, or inspiration?

we'll have one more piece on the two of wands this month: a collection of creative prompts to encourage you to work with this card, and this energy, in ways beyond tarot readings.

and if you're ready to dig out your cards, i'll be sharing a new tarot spread on the two of wands with bronze and gold subscribers tomorrow!