Man, I remember it like it was yesterday, years back, when I first stumbled into this whole tarot thing. To be honest, I was a wreck. Felt like I was just clocking in and out, doing the motions, you know? My job was… fine, I guess, but it wasn’t making me tick. A friend, bless her heart, told me I should try picking up some tarot cards, just for kicks. Said it might give me a new way to look at things. I rolled my eyes, naturally, but figured, what’s the harm?
So, I got myself a pretty basic deck. Started messing around with it. Shuffling, picking cards, trying to make sense of the little guidebook that came with it. And wouldn’t you know it, that 6 of Wands card kept showing up. Over and over again. I’d read the description: “victory,” “public recognition,” “success achieved.” Sounded great on paper, right? But it felt so darn far away from my reality. I was in a cubicle, staring at spreadsheets, not exactly riding a horse in a parade with a wreath on my head. I’d look at that card and think, “Yeah, right. Where’s my victory? Where’s my parade?”
I got pretty frustrated with it, actually. It felt like the card was just mocking me. I was trying to “manifest” something, trying to “believe,” but nothing in my life was really changing. The job was still boring, my energy was still low. I tried to connect it to my daily grind, but how do you equate a successful meeting with a full-on victory parade? It just wasn’t clicking. I ended up stuffing the cards in a drawer for a good long while, figuring it wasn’t for me. Just another fad, I thought.
Then, something totally unrelated happened. I’m a bit of a tinkerer, always have been. My dad had this ancient shortwave radio in the garage, been sitting there for decades, busted. He’d always say, “Someone oughta fix that thing.” So, one rainy weekend, with nothing better to do, I pulled it out. It was a mess. Wires everywhere, rusted bits, tubes that looked like they’d seen better centuries. Everyone I talked to, my wife, my buddies, they all said, “Leave it alone, man. Too much trouble. Just get a new one.” But something in me just… latched onto it.
I spent weeks in that garage. Late nights, grease under my fingernails, squinting at faded diagrams I found online. I was learning about capacitors, resistors, soldering techniques I’d never even heard of. There were so many moments I wanted to just throw the thing against the wall. Nothing worked. I’d fix one bit, and another would break. It was a real uphill battle, a proper slog. But I just kept at it, one small connection, one tiny fix at a time.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I had done all I could. I plugged it in, said a little prayer, and flipped the switch. There was a hum, a crackle, and then, a faint voice, picking up a station from halfway across the world. A tiny, tinny sound, but it was there. It was working! My wife had come out to check on me, probably to tell me to come to bed, but she saw it light up. She let out a shout, my kid came running in, wide-eyed. They were both cheering, clapping. And in that moment, something just… clicked inside me.
That was it. That was the 6 of Wands. It wasn’t some giant stadium full of strangers. It was that pure, unadulterated feeling of winning, right there in my messy garage. It was the personal triumph, the overcoming of a challenge, and the immediate, genuine recognition from the two people who mattered most. That quiet cheer, that shared excitement, that was my parade. It wasn’t about the world seeing me, it was about me knowing I had done something hard, and the people closest to me sharing in that joy. It was my victory.
After that, I couldn’t unsee it. The cards came out of the drawer. My whole perspective shifted. I started looking for those moments everywhere:
- Finished a tricky project at work that everyone thought was impossible? That was my 6 of Wands. And when my boss actually gave me a nod and said, “Good job, that really helped us out,” that was my public recognition.
- Stuck with a new workout routine for a month, even when I felt like quitting? Boom, victory. Telling my buddy about it and him saying, “Nice one, man, keep it up!” Another little parade.
- Managed to get through a tough conversation with a family member and actually resolved something? Victory. The sigh of relief, the clear air, that was the wreath.
It wasn’t about waiting for some grand announcement from the universe. It was about creating those small wins, acknowledging them for myself, and letting myself feel that powerful surge of accomplishment. It was about owning my efforts, celebrating the struggle, and allowing the people around me, however few, to see and share in that success.
This whole mindset just snowballed for me. I started taking on more challenges, not because I was guaranteed to win, but because I knew even the attempt, the learning, the pushing through, was a kind of victory. I spoke up more in meetings, shared ideas I used to keep to myself. I wasn’t afraid to fail because I knew I’d pick up something valuable along the way, another small personal win.
And you know what? Eventually, I did get that promotion I had only dreamed about back when I was pulling those cards the first time. It felt like a true 6 of Wands moment. Not just the title or the bump in pay, but the deep, quiet satisfaction that I had earned it, step by painful, rewarding step. All those little personal victories had added up. I felt that inner cheer, that silent parade, going on just for me. That’s the real win, man, just owning your hustle and letting yourself feel good about it.
