The Two of Wands

Thoth 2 of Wands
The Two of Wands

I feel unsteady, as I walk the stairs today, the winds of change searching my mind for a crack or an opening, to cleave me open once more, to wrench my heart and force me back into the open, to expose myself to the rawness of life, to sear my soul with sadness and pain; again. Oh brave heart, how you remain, steadfast and sure through the turmoil of my dreams, an ever steady boat on the storms of my life, promising always your golden vision of hope to draw me on day after day into the west.

I feel unsure today as I walk the stairs. I can sense tremors through the soles of my naked feet, almost imperceptible vibrations that warn me perhaps of the intense experiences that lie ahead of me. An awareness of earthquakes and seismic shifts travels up my legs into the pit of my stomach as I head for the door again. Unarmed and unsafe, I feel a little afraid of what I will find here today, something that seems to happen to me often with the fire cards, as if I fear being incinerated as soon as I step into their luminous and glittering visions.

I open the portal, and pass through the crimson and blue silken sheath that protects the land of the Two of Wands, and step into a landscape where everything seems to be vibrating, my premonitions about the earth tremors were correct, and I see that this is what is occurring here. I look closer at the emerging vision, and see that there is a huge vortex opening in the ground ahead of me. Blue black and indigo violet, the watery whirlpool spins intensely, darkly, almost malevolently, and I become gradually aware that it is dragging everything inexorably closer to the edge until they are all finally engulfed within its watery maw. I stand aghast at the scene before me, together with the emerging knowledge of what needs to be done. I must allow myself to fall, to fall without regret and without sadness, without expectation and without control, into the place where all things must go, to die within a life and to come to understand the visions of my other self, the mirror image of me that lies in the spaces in between.

I take a breath and in slow motion, fall into the dream like catastrophe that lies ahead of me, fall without dignity or grace, fall with all the pain and love, the rage and hate, the divinity and damnation, the death and life that my brave and helpless soul can muster, and so I fall.

Downwards I spiral into the unknown places. Images flitting past me, strange shapes flowering in the darkness and gloom , until quite quickly the light starts to change, and fiery flames of orange and crimson lick my vision as I find myself standing finally in a land of flickering fire. Towering columns dancing against a blood filled sky twirl and bend with sinuous grace as they dive and dart, dancers in a world of passion, linking , joining, parting, melting, loving, emerging and engulfing.

Blooms of incandescence erupt and boil all around me, but strangely they are not hot in themselves. They fill my heart with the heat of their own passion, and I become the creatrix of my own world reaching out my arms to calm and claim the visions before me until I can command the still space, the centre of the places that I have found. I close my eyes, and feel the ground beneath my feet and when I open them I see a man standing there, holding a diabalo in his hand. I can see that this object clearly represents the two places that I have just experienced, and that he is spinning it and balancing it on his string, tossing it into the air with neither fear nor expectation, but with joy and freedom, as he balances the power that he holds in a state of perfect dexterity, holding heaven on the width of a string, because he does not fear. What magic erupts from his hands, what fertile and delicious images arise in my mind, and they draw me, one way and then another, until I become hypnotised with the passion and the pain.

Keep to the centre, keep to the middle way, find the balance, find the point of grace.

And I see now that that is the ground upon which to stand… Fearlessness, a thing of beauty, vision and inspiration, and I become entranced by the magicians movements, lulled into a state of calm, closing my eyes once again to awake once more in the wide Mongolian plains, the world of The Chariot.

I stand with my feet planted in the lands of my forefathers, I stand at the point of spring, the power of the vernal equinox beneath my feet, the power of the earth breaking through the short green grass as I feel the tundra wind against my cheeks, drying the tears that have fallen. Fire meets water, and I will have dominion over my worlds, I will stand at the centre, I will walk through the eye of the hurricane, find the doorway through the vortex, and I will find peace, the calm within my brave and loyal heart.

The Two of Wands

Mars in Aries
0 degrees to 10 degrees of Aries


My name is Joanna Grant, I am an Astrologer, Tarot Reader and Writer, who lives on the Head Shot Fadebeautiful Beara Peninsula in the South West of Ireland. I can often be found at home, deep in arcane research, or practicing some new form of divination whilst burning the dinner! My children probably wish that I was “normal” but may well remember my eccentricities fondly when they come to face the challenges of their own paths. My long knowledge of Astrology leads and informs my practice, in offering guidance, empowerment and healing, helping others to lead a more authentic and magical life. You can read more about me here.

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