THREE OF WANDS

Three of Wands – A Time to Taste, Not to Drift

The Three of Wands stands at the edge of a great divide. You’re grounded, yes—but also awake. Past, present, and future are lined up like old friends you know well, watching with you as the ships pass by. These boats aren’t yours. Ferries exist, yes, and many are climbing aboard. But not you. You’re not meant to cross that way.

This is the card of astral projection. Of understanding that while your feet may be planted, your spirit can move. Your body may be here, but your consciousness is free to roam—across the mountains, over the sea, into futures not yet lived.

The temptation to travel is strong. But remember: you're meant to fly, not sail. The wind may fill others’ sails, but your wings catch different air. This is a moment for centered awareness. You’re tasting the nectar of the moment—sweet, sour, salty, bitter, umami—and making a deeply informed decision. You’re learning from the past. Weighing your risks. Feeling out the present. You don’t act on impulse anymore. You act with knowing.

The red cloak around you is more than fabric—it’s a signal. Red for power. Red for caution. Red like the matador’s cape: an invitation, but also a trap. You must not linger too long. Don’t become enchanted by the experience of observing. Taste, don’t gorge. Learn, don’t escape. Time spent “sampling” is meant to be temporary. Stay too long and the lesson becomes a punishment.

If you’ve been getting that ache in your shoulder, this is your sign. Time’s up. Stop sampling. If you ignore the signals—the caution tape, the railroad crossing, the bull’s warning snort—you may find yourself charging headfirst into disaster. Bankruptcy. Sickness. Regret. This is not a punishment, it’s a consequence. You knew when it was time to go, and if you didn’t listen then, the universe will make sure you hear it now.

How many cycles have to repeat before you change the script? You already know how this story goes. You know what leads where. It’s time to go, man, go.

If you wait too long, all the boats are gone, your spirit can no longer fly across and resources are scarce. The only way to get across the water is to split the sea or walk on it? Is your name Jesus or Moses? Ok then, let’s go.

Three of Wands Reversed – The Bull, Not the Watcher

You are not the man who stands still and weighs the future. You are the bull. Wild. Impatient. Charging.

You don’t pause. You don’t plan. You knock over the man who did everything right—the one who studied the tides, charted his map, waited for the right ferry. You trample him in your rush to claim what you think is yours. And for a while? You’re rewarded. You get lucky. You take what you want.

But sometimes, the charge sends you flying off the edge. You crash, horns-first, into the jagged rocks below. Or you get tangled in the red cape—strangling yourself with the very warning you ignored.

Worse still: you do make it onto a boat. But it’s not your boat. It’s full of fools and liars, of yes-men and chaos. You’re praised for your recklessness, egged on to jump again—this time over another fjord, even deeper than the last. And you leap… without your own set of wands. Without foresight. Without wisdom.

This reversal is a warning: The path of impulse may sometimes reward you, but the toll is always coming. If you don’t stop yourself, something else will;