Fiery Page of Wands and Forgiveness

Are you stomping on your own fire?

Hundreds of lit up paper lanterns floating through darkness, imitating a starry sky.
Photo by Leon Contreras on Unsplash

An old school corridor. You can hear the shuffling of little feet as the bell rings in the break. A little girl was about to go down the flight of stairs when all of a sudden someone stopped her in her tracks.

“How did you fit into the TV?” he asked.

The little girl was caught off-guard. Words failed her. She had swallowed her tongue. A week prior she and her friends had enjoyed a day at the national TV studios. They were there to film a segment for a competition that a children’s program had organised. It had been a day full of fun and laughter. Little did she know that a day after the program aired, she’d be standing on top of the stairs in her old primary school wounded by these seven words.

She would carry these scars for the rest of her life. She would stay hidden and quiet because the girl her size surely does not deserve to be visible. It would be years before she learned not to stomp on her own fire. The face of the wounder escapes her now but the words are still echoing in her head. For years she would allow them to dictate her life path but no more.

She has finally forgiven herself for all the ways she has stomped her fire. She is finally ready to reignite that fire and let it burn bright and offer a warm place for others to gather around and weave new stories.


“Do me a favour While you tear it all down Your hair, your face Your clothes and shape Your side of the town Forgive yourself”
Patrick Droney “Forgive Yourself”

It was under a waning quarter moon that this old memory resurfaced from the depths of my soul. As I was checking in on my lunar intentions and reflecting on what had emerged thus far, this old memory lingered like a bad taste in my mouth. Only this time I was reminded that I don’t have to hold onto it. That it was not my story after all.

If you’re unfamiliar with lunar living, know that the last quarter moon is here to remind us of the path we choose to walk. In order to stay true to it, the moon is asking us to forgive ourselves for the aspects that no longer serve us. It is asking us for acceptance in order to move forward and provides us guidance for the untrodden path ahead. It is a time to tune out the noise and turn inward.

It was then that I drew Page of Wands and was reminded of my strength and persistence, of my ability to keep going and adapt to life’s twists and turns. I was reminded that I was the one who allowed this story to run my life. And just as I allowed it to run my life I can weave a new story, a story that is mine.

Just because someone told us a story once does not mean that we have to live by it. We have the power to rewrite it. We hold the power to weave new stories about ourselves. But in order to do that, we need to know where the old stories stem from. Who do they really belong to? And in that exploration, we are invited to forgive ourselves and the ones that helped us write that story in the first place.



A Page of Wands Tarot card depicting a young man holding a staff that is sprouting with leaves. He is standing in the middle of the desert, wearing a cloak covered with salamanders.
Authorship: Arthur Edward Waite, Pamela Coleman Smith was the artist and worked as an artist ‘for hire.’ Waite was the copyright holder and he died in 1942. — This image scanned by Holly Voley

The Page of Wands depicts a young man holding a staff covered with buds. He is admiring this magical sight of leaves unfurling. The young man is wearing a coat covered with salamanders. They are known as the “legendary fiery beasts” deriving from the Old French word salamandre. In the Tarot, they symbolise renewal and rebirth.

Could this be linked to the salamander’s ability to regenerate its limbs? Aren’t we humans just as resilient in adapting in the face of struggle and strife?

The young man is standing in the middle of a desert. Deserts are known for heat and lack of water and life yet the buds on the staff are slowly turning into leaves. This young page has found wisdom in the barren landscape of a desert where only the most resilient life forms survive. It reminds us of our inner resilience.


Just as the Page finds wisdom in the most unwelcoming landscapes, so can we tap into the wisdom that life’s downs provide us.

According to Merriam-Webster, a page is “one employed to deliver messages, assist patrons, serve as a guide, or attend to similar duties.” We could combine this with the definition of a written page. After all, don’t the pages of a book deliver messages and at times serve as guides? Don’t the pages of a journal help us guide us out of the mess we’ve tangled ourselves in?

The fiery Page of Wands calls us to reignite our inner fire. We are allowed to shine our light in the world. Our gifts deserve to be witnessed by others. In fact, it is through the act of witnessing someone else’s fire that we are empowered to tend to our own.

It is our birthright to shine our unique light and admire the light of the humans we share this world with. It is through the sharing of our own light that we find our interconnectedness. Let these prompts below help you excavate the depths of your soul for hidden wisdom. Let them help you tend to your inner fire.

What barren landscape do you find yourself walking across right now?

What wisdom is it revealing to you?

How are you being called to tend to the fire within?



First published in the publication of Lunar Wanderings on Medium.