Two and Three of Wands: High Up, Looking Down
Two of Wands from the Waite-Smith Tarot.
I’ve said this before, but much as I love the Waite-Smith Tarot, I do get frustrated with one deck being seen as the Tarot, when there are so many interpretations out there, including decks that are far older and equally as inspiring. I went through a phase where I wanted to stop working with it (and decks inspired by it) altogether, but … then the Waite-Smith’s Two of Wands showed up. This is the card that made me realise that I could never abandon the Waite Smith. I need this image in my life. I realised this when me and my partner were spending the night in a hotel room in the Swiss Alps that was far too expensive for the likes of us. (We ate bread for dinner to make up for it…) and I pulled this card as my daily pull. On that grand, old balcony that overlooked the majestic valleys and mountains, I couldn’t quite believe that the scene in front of me was real. It felt more like an old watercolour painting than reality. I know this is a silly thought, as those paintings are based on genuine scenes of Nature. But they aren’t the kind of scenes that are usually accessible without tracking deep into the countryside or up a mountain. But that view felt too grand and perfect to be homely, something you can access simply by stepping onto the balcony of your hotel and opening the curtains.
I hold the Two of Wands in my hands. I stare at the card, and then out at the green mountains, many of which are at eye level: the hotel is 1861 metres above the sea (to be precise). Wrapped in heavy blankets like sausage rolls in the sky, we are regularly engulfed by thick clouds. One minute, we gaze upon the snow-capped green mountains. The next, the whole world is lost to grey and white cotton wool, we can see not a thing beyond the balcony ledge which is just at our feet. Our world of watercolour mountains and green conifer trees gives way to a world of nothingness as we are lost in the passing clouds, and it is just as awe-inspiring. And this really is my card for today, this Two of Wands. The figure quite literally holds the whole world in his hands. Sometimes, the Tarot can be laughably literal. Here is a man standing on a high balcony, watching over the land below: the mountains are visible in the distance. Like most Tarot cards, I have always read it in a metaphorical sense: that’s what the cards are for, right? Visual metaphors reflecting our own private worlds? But something about its appearance today says to me, _Look at what is happening, right now! Appreciate the utter privilege of this moment … this stunning view … this transient life. There is no metaphor today, no … just this. One day you will be gone, but now there is this … just this.
A tear comes to my eye. The card expresses something new for me, something obvious. It speaks in a new, very literal language. I decide that I can’t live my life without the possibility of this card appearing in it.
Three of Wands from the Waite-Smith Tarot
The next card in the Waite-Smith wands sequence – the Three of Wands – takes the theme to another level. A red-and-green clothed figure watches over a red river or sea-strip, this time from what appears to be the top of a hill or mountain. The human’s location has moved from the safety of a human-constructed balcony to the heights of Nature’s glorious, natural formations. A step into the wilderness has taken place.
There are many special hills in Midlothian, my area of Scotland, although they are far more modest in height than those grand Swiss mountains. My favourite is Blackhope Scar: the highest point in the county. It is of mountain status, but only just (Midlothian being hilly rather than mountainous – you have to go further north in Scotland for that). Shortly after moving to this area, I was compelled to research and write a book of folktales about it, inspired by the hills. The hills spoke to me, and I listened.
The feeling that I have when, on this hot summer’s day, I take a 12-mile hike to stand upon the peak of Blackhope Scar, is indescribable. Hill walkers will know this feeling well – but I’m not one of those really. I’m more of a distant admirer – sometimes I camp at the foot of hills with no desire to climb them. (They’re the boss, not me.)
As the trig point of Blackhope Scar comes into sight after hours of battling through boggy marshland (and being scared shitless by panicking grouse who flap out of shrubs before me) I stop to look around. A panorama of green hills, sea, loch and city spreads out in all directions. I have not seen a single other human being on this journey. I am open, wild and free. The hot sun on my skin, blue sky above, the scent of boggy grass; they all speak to me as companions.
When we take in a vast view from above, looking down upon the world below, we finally know our smallness in this vast world. (Ironically, when we are on top of it.) For a short time, we can see all of the life going on down there, the land below, where we spend our lives lost in dreams, as if we are the centre of the Universe. We can reflect on those tiny humans that we see below, each just one of billions, not to mention the unimaginable quantities of other living creatures on this planet alone. And who knows what other unknown beings are out there!
It’s a funny thing that, no? When we recognise our smallness, we feel the world expand. When we stop trying to be important, when we accept our frailness, our insignificance, a sense of relief opens up. We sink into the world that we are. We hold the Earth in our hands not by grabbing after things, but by letting go of ourselves.
Two such beautiful cards.
I’ll leave you with that Swiss balcony view…
That’s all for now, friends. Thank you for being here – and please check out my Therapeutic Tarot Sessions and my courses embracing Tarot and Nature if you’d like us to work together. You can also sign up for the Tarot Blog newsletter (different to my main newsletter) below to receive occasional email updates (roughly monthly) with the latest posts.
Smiles from Scotland,
Stephen
