My Wild Ride with the Prince of Wands: What I Really Found Out
Man, I gotta tell you, for the longest time, I thought I had the Prince of Wands figured out. Action. Fire. Go, go, go. Right? That’s what every book says. But let me paint you a picture of how I actually cracked this card open, because trust me, the real spiritual message only hit me when I absolutely tanked a huge project.
A few months back, I was itching to launch this new creative platform—a big one, requiring major commitment. I ignited the whole thing with pure Wands energy. I started coding, designed the logo in an hour, and told everyone I knew it would be live in two weeks. Total, aggressive enthusiasm. Pure Prince of Wands, charging across the desert on his horse, waving that stick around.
I didn’t bother making a proper business plan. I didn’t bother checking the market needs. I just dove straight in, powered by that rush of inspiration. I pulled the Prince of Wands in my daily draw four days in a row, and I remember feeling smug, thinking, “See? The Universe is validating my speed!”
The Practice Kicks Off: When the Fire Turns to Smoke
The first step in my actual study process wasn’t reading more books; it was tracking the energy in real-time. I decided to treat the card like a field recording. For two weeks, every time I felt that burst of impatience, or the urge to skip a necessary step, I wrote it down and mentally tagged it “Prince of Wands activation.”
What I found wasn’t pretty. That initial high energy? It’s completely scattered. I started five different tasks on the platform simultaneously. I delegated critical work to someone without giving them clear instructions because I was too impatient to type out a detailed brief. I spent money on flashy features that nobody needed. The whole project became a chaotic mess of half-finished components.
I realized the textbook definitions missed the crucial downside of this energy: Impatience burns bridges.
The real lesson, however, didn’t come from my journal entries. It came when the whole platform crashed spectacularly the night before I promised the soft launch. It wasn’t just a bug; it was a structural failure because I ignored the foundational groundwork. I was trying to build a skyscraper on quicksand, fueled by ambition alone.
This failure was rough. Like the example I heard about a guy getting locked out of his old job after being quarantined—this failure wasn’t just a delay, it threatened my income stream and left me feeling like a complete idiot who couldn’t manage his own creative energy. My partner asked me why I rushed it, and I honestly couldn’t answer. That’s when the spiritual message finally clicked.
The Core Revelation: Beyond Just Action
I went back to the card, but this time, I wasn’t looking for action; I was looking for the consequences of untethered action. I studied the iconography closely across three different decks. The horse isn’t standing still; it’s often rearing up, unbalanced, ready to bolt. The Prince is looking forward, not down at the path.
Here is what I distilled from the absolute chaos of my failed launch:
- The Prince of Wands grants the ignition, not the sustained fuel. You still have to find the commitment elsewhere (King of Wands).
- If this card shows up in a challenge position, it means your speed is your enemy. You’re moving so fast you’re missing the actual target.
- The message is often: “Go now, but stop checking your phone while you’re riding.” Focus.
I realized that when the Prince shows up, the Universe isn’t telling you to charge ahead blindly; it’s telling you that the window of inspiration is open, but you better slap some discipline on that enthusiasm before it burns itself out and leaves you stranded, just like I was with a crashed platform and zero income for a week while I scrambled to fix the basics I had skipped.
Now, when I pull this card, I don’t just feel the fire; I feel the anxiety of momentum without structure. My practice now is to immediately sit down and write three concrete, boring steps before I allow myself to move an inch. That’s the real guide to the Prince of Wands: it teaches you that starting is easy, but sticking the landing requires the maturity you don’t yet possess, hence why he’s still a Prince, not a King. I learned this the hard way, through a costly and deeply embarrassing mistake, but hey, at least I got a real guide out of it.
Don’t just chase the fire, folks; learn to control the burn.
