Man, the Rider Waite Tarot Ace of Wands. You see that card, and for a long time, I just saw a hand sticking out of a cloud holding a club. A big old wooden stick. What the heck was that supposed to mean, really? Like, “Hey, go hit something?” Or “Here’s a branch, start a fire?” It always felt so… direct, but also kinda vague, you know?
For years, I’d pull that thing, and my first thought was always, “Alright, what now?” I was in a phase where I felt stuck, like really stuck. My job was just… there. Not bad, not great, just a clock-in, clock-out kind of deal. My evenings were mostly same old, same old. I wanted something more, something new, but I just couldn’t pinpoint it. It was like I was waiting for permission, or a giant flashing arrow from the sky saying, “THIS WAY, DUMMY!”
I got my first deck because a buddy kept talking about it. Said it helped him think through stuff. So I grabbed a Rider Waite, figured, why not? I’d shuffle, pull some cards, stare at them, and then usually just shrug. The little booklet helped a bit, sure, but it felt so… textbook. “Ace of Wands: New beginnings, inspiration, creativity, potential.” Yeah, yeah, I read that. But how do you actually use that? How does a picture of a hand with a stick actually become a new beginning?
Then something happened. Not a big earth-shattering thing, just a tiny spark. I was scrolling online late one night, totally bored, and I saw an ad for a local pottery class. I’d never done anything artistic in my life. My hands were for keyboards, not clay. But for some reason, that little ad just… stuck. It didn’t feel like a huge commitment, just a few weeks. Something to do, maybe.
I signed up. And I was terrible. Truly, truly awful at first. My pots looked like lumpy ashtrays, my hands were always filthy, and I probably made more mess than art. But every Tuesday evening, I found myself looking forward to it. It was a complete departure from my regular grind. It was fresh. It was messy. And it was mine.
One evening, after class, I was doing a quick reading for myself, just to see if anything interesting popped up. And guess what card landed front and center? The darn Ace of Wands. This time, though, it looked different. I was still kinda covered in clay dust, my nails were wrecked, but I had this goofy grin on my face from trying to center a particularly stubborn lump of clay. And I looked at that card again.
That hand isn’t just holding a stick. It’s holding a living stick. You see those little green leaves sprouting off it? That’s what hit me. It’s not just a blunt tool. It’s life. It’s potential unfolding. It’s that first little shoot, that first glimmer of an idea before it even fully forms. It’s the urge to create, the spark of something new, not the finished product.
The Spark, Not the Firework
That’s when it clicked. The Ace of Wands isn’t the big explosion, the completed project, the grand success. It’s the initial, undeniable urge. It’s that gut feeling that says, “Hey, what if…?” It’s the courage to pick up that symbolic stick, even if you don’t yet know what you’re building, or what fire you’re going to start. It’s the moment you decide to take that first step, to try something different. It’s the energy that pushes you off the couch.
That pottery class? That was my Ace of Wands moment. It wasn’t a profound career change or a move across the country. It was a tiny, slightly awkward new beginning. But it woke something up in me. It showed me that inspiration isn’t always a bolt of lightning; sometimes it’s just a quiet whisper, a gentle nudge to try something. And the Wands, that suit, it’s all about that fire, that passion, that creative drive. The Ace is the start of that fire. The very first flicker.
After that, when I saw the Ace of Wands, I stopped asking, “What now?” and started asking, “What’s calling me? What’s the tiny seed of inspiration I’m ignoring?” Because that’s what it felt like. It nudges you. It says, “There’s energy here. A fresh start. Go grab it.”
- It’s the urge to learn a new skill, even a silly one.
- It’s the courage to try a different route to work.
- It’s the whisper to start writing that idea down, however vague.
- It’s the push to say “yes” to an invitation you’d normally decline.
It’s pure, unadulterated potential. It’s about getting that initial jolt of energy and not letting it fade. It’s about saying, “Alright, I’m taking this first step, no matter how small or uncertain it feels.” And then, just like that tiny green leaf on the wand, you let it sprout. You tend to it. You see where it leads.
My understanding of that card went from “some stick” to “holy cow, this is the beginning of everything.” It’s an invitation, really. An invitation to lean into that impulse, that creative spark, that desire for something new, even when you can’t see the whole path ahead. Just grab the wand, feel that budding energy, and let yourself start fresh. It’s a powerful thing, that initial spark. You just gotta trust it and move.
