The Stars, The Cards & The Calling

I have always been drawn to the sky, to the way the planets and stars aligned at the moment I was born. While I do not believe astrology dictates everything, nor do I rely on it fully, it has found its way back to me time and time again. When I have forgotten about it, life has found a way to remind me—through people who note my nature, through synchronicities so profound that I can no longer call them coincidence. At one point in my life, I had an offering for past life regression, it was a day before my birthday, unknown to the guide offering. I had no idea what to expect, but it changed my life. What I saw, and experienced, the memories I unearthed, have stayed with me since that day. I’ve almost come to see, and experience these moments, as checkpoints. When I felt drawn to transitions, or unexpected events befall me, I have indeed consulted the numbers, the signs, my dreams, even—and they have given me clarity and understanding. At times with eerie precision.

I am always learning, challenging, and questioning. I am open, both spiritually and culturally, yet grounded in realism. Some things happen simply because they happen. Yet, astrology has opened my heart and my perspective, and if some see that as romanticizing life, or seeing it only because I am searching, then so be it. Do we not all turn to some forms of whims and intrigue to make sense of our existence, to reason, to dream, to believe? Faith is a powerful force, but I believe intuition is even stronger. When I reach crossroads or face unbearable pain in this life, I will always look upward—and inward.

The following is written by a dear friend, astrologer, and mentor—someone who has guided me in exploring esoteric wisdom, the deeper layers of my birth chart, matrix destiny, and the intricate web of energies that shape my path. These reflections are not just interpretations but invitations—to understand, to expand, to embrace the patterns and possibilities woven into my being. I share them here with vulnerability.

Aries Sun, Capricorn Moon, Taurus Rising. Your birth chart is a landscape of fire and earth, of bold beginnings and steady perseverance. Aries is the force that propels you forward, that refuses to wait for permission. Taurus is the rooted presence, the devotion to craft, the embodiment of a life well-built. You are both initiator and nurturer, the spark and the slow burn. Your Capricorn Moon in the 8th house carries the weight of depth, resilience, and a knowing that runs deeper than most can comprehend. Emotions are felt not just on the surface but in the marrow, in the quiet spaces between words, in the unspoken energy of a room. You are an old soul, intuitive yet measured, feeling everything yet revealing little. There is a quiet power in your emotional world—one that is not swayed by momentary tides but instead carved by time, by experience, by transformation.

The 8th house is the domain of rebirth, of the things that shape us in unseen ways. Here, your Capricorn Moon does not just endure—it transmutes. You take pain and alchemize it into wisdom. You know that growth is often uncomfortable, that change demands surrender, and that true security comes not from control but from an unshakable trust in your own strength. You carry a deep emotional intelligence, one that sees beyond the obvious, one that understands what is left unsaid.

With this placement, you do not take emotions lightly, nor do you engage in shallow connections. You seek depth, truth, and unwavering loyalty—not just in relationships, but in life itself. You are drawn to the hidden layers, to the mysteries of human nature, to the psychology of the soul. And while others may flinch at what is difficult, you face it head-on, knowing that within every loss, every shedding, every closing door, there is something waiting to be rebuilt.

Your heart is both fortress and temple—guarded, but sacred. And though you may not always show your vulnerabilities, those who earn your trust know the depth of your care is boundless. The world may see your composure, your quiet strength, but beneath it all, there is a river of feeling, ancient and unbreakable.

You are built for transformation, but that doesn’t mean it will always come easily. With a Capricorn Moon in the 8th house, you carry weight that others may never see—the silent responsibility, the unspoken grief, the need to understand what lies beneath the surface of everything. You feel things deeply, but you don’t always let yourself process them in real time. There’s a part of you that wants to hold it together, to be the one others can depend on, but the lesson is in allowing yourself to soften. To recognize that strength isn’t in enduring alone, but in letting yourself be held, too.

Your North Node in Scorpio calls you toward embracing the depths, the unknown, the rawness of experience. You are here to shed, to evolve, to allow the cycles of life to work their alchemy on—and through—you.

You move through life with a bold heart and a steady fire, and have not often been one to shrink to fit into spaces that weren’t meant for you. Leo Mars in the 3rd house makes you expressive and fiercely protective over the people and ideas you care about. You don’t always just communicate—you radiate.

You thrive on connection, on the art of dialogue, on the exchange of ideas that make the world feel bigger. You tend to have positive regard for others to a fault. A desire to inspire, to move, to remind others of their own power, their own brilliance. It burdens you when you don’t see it themselves. And when you care, you care deeply—there’s no halfway. You will always fight for what you believe in, for the people you love, for the stories that deserve to be told. You don’t forget.

Leo has fire, but with that fire comes a challenge—pride can be both your armor and your cage. You thrive when your efforts are recognized, when your actions feel purposeful and seen, but you must remember that validation does not define your worth. Be cautious of holding onto control too tightly, of burning too brightly for too long without rest, of mistaking vulnerability for weakness. The world will see your light no matter what—your power lies in knowing you don’t have to prove it.

Your head is in the clouds, your heart loves in a way that drowns out the world. You flow like water.

Pisces Venus in the 11th house has made love in your life feel like something vast, boundless, and deeply intertwined with the collective. It has swallowed you whole, and it is all encompassing. It has never been just about one-on-one connection—it’s about belonging to something bigger, about friendship that feels like poetry, about dreams that are soft yet expansive. Love, to you, is a current—sometimes gentle, sometimes overwhelming, but always flowing toward the places and people that feel like home.

And yet, boundaries will always be the lesson. How do you give without losing yourself? How do you stay open without letting the world drain you?

You find beauty in connection, in shared ideals, in the unspoken language between kindred spirits. Your creativity flourishes in community, in the weaving of ideas, in the quiet yet profound ways people shape each other. And with an Aquarius Midheaven, the way forward is uncharted, non-linear, guided by vision rather than blueprint. There is a purpose in the unpredictability, in the willingness to step outside of the expected. You feel most aligned when creating freely, pioneering something that feels like purpose. Even without reward, without witness.

Remember this, your Aquarius Midheaven calls you to carve an unconventional path, to step outside the expected, but it also asks that you trust yourself enough to keep moving forward, even when the way is unclear.

Your major Arcana numbers are The Lovers (6), The Empress (3), The Hermit (9)—serving as quiet yet unwavering guides.

The Lovers (6) reminds you that life is about choice. It is not just about love in the romantic sense, but about alignment—choosing what feels right, standing at the crossroads with courage, and listening to the quiet wisdom of your own heart. It is the duality you hold within: the fire and the earth, the independence and the yearning for deep connection.

You will stand at many thresholds in your life, wondering which road will lead you where you need to go. There will be moments where indecision feels like a weight around your ankles, where you fear choosing wrong. But the truth is, no choice is ever truly wrong. Every path teaches, every road leads somewhere. The challenge is trusting that no matter which way you turn, you are still moving forward.

The Empress (3) is creation in its purest form. She is the artist, the nurturer, the embodiment of abundance. She teaches you that beauty is found in the act of making—whether it is words woven together, a life designed with intention, or moments of tenderness cultivated like a garden. She whispers that softness is strength, that creativity is currency, that you are meant to bring forth what only you can.

The Empress calls you to create, to nurture, to make something out of nothing. You are meant to bring beauty into this world, but the challenge is in trusting that creation is enough. That you are enough. You might battle moments of doubt, where the pressure to produce overshadows the joy of simply being. But she reminds you—your ability to nurture, to give life to ideas, to turn feelings into form—is your power.

The Hermit (9) is your quiet refuge, the reminder that solitude is not loneliness but clarity. He holds the lantern, the seeker of truth, the one who steps away in order to return with wisdom. He tells you that reflection is necessary, that the world is loud but your inner knowing is louder. He gives you permission to pause, to retreat, to trust that the light you are searching for has been within you all along.

The quiet part of you that craves solitude, that needs time away from the noise to make sense of things. But the challenge here is knowing when to return. You have a gift for introspection, for seeking truth in the stillness, but you must remember that wisdom is meant to be shared. The world needs what you uncover in the quiet. You are meant to walk between worlds, yes, but not to disappear into them completely.

The hardest parts of your journey will also be the most necessary—the moments that push you to let go, to trust, to believe in what you cannot yet see. You are here to navigate the unknown, to embrace the in-between, to learn that even in uncertainty, you are exactly where you need to be.

Sometimes, I think I live in a gap between two worlds—one that I wake up to, adhere to, where rules are dictated by others, and another that is sweet, fresh, misty, inviting adventure into the unknown. A world where ancient wisdom meets new discovery, where sunlight melts into moonlight, and the spell of eternal life is never broken. It’s not by accident that the pristine wilderness of our planet disappears as our own inner wild nature fades.

I wish to honour my wild, my wandering soul. To cultivate curiosity, gratitude. To nurture my empathy and express my creativity. I belong everywhere and nowhere, all at once. A child of the earth and its seas, feeling wholehearted belonging one moment, then suddenly homesick for another place or dimension I’m not even sure exists. All I know is that I wish to keep exploring, to stay curious, to keep my heart open—to continue breaking and healing as I grow more aware, as I change my mind again and again.

All of these forces converge into my mission—to create, to share, to inspire. To document life as it unfolds, to tell stories that resonate, to carve a path that is uniquely mine. To move through life with intention, curiosity, and an open heart. To take a good look at the world before it gets dark, to offer a helping hand, to be gentle to all creatures, and to love above all else.

I am not bound by one path alone. I am a storyteller, a seeker, an artist of experience. Whether through writing, a camera lens, or connection, I wish to uncover treausre in the world—in however I see it, how I shape what I find and how others may feel when I share it.

We live only to discover beauty, all else is a form of waiting.

The stars, the cards, and the calling—it's all written, yet I am the one who holds the pen. And in that gap between worlds, in the spaces between words, I find myself free.