Hey there, Unplugged Pagans, how are you today?
I am doing well.
The candles are lit. The incense is rising. The mood is set.
And today, the mind is already walking ahead of me.
Not to this weekend, but the next one.
I am planning to return to a place I used to live, a place where I volunteered, a place where I spent a lot of time within the pagan community. A place where friendships were built, where parts of me were shaped, and where some of those connections have drifted, changed, or gone quiet over time.
There is a feeling to it. That old-song feeling. The sense of returning to remembered places, knowing some things have changed, some things have remained, and some things may not be there anymore in the way I remember them.
I am looking forward to it.
But there is trepidation there too.
Because memory is a strange thing. We build whole rooms inside ourselves out of moments, people, rituals, conversations, fires, laughter, grief, and belonging. Then, years later, we return to the physical place and realize the room inside us may no longer match the place outside us.
And that can hurt.
Some of the people who were pivotal in that community, people who helped make it what it was for me, have died. Their absence will be there too. Not loudly, maybe. But present. Like an empty chair near the fire. Like a voice you expect to hear and then remember you won’t.
So I go with hope, but not with naivety.
I go knowing that some memories may ache.
I go knowing that some old doors may not open the same way.
But maybe that is not the whole point.
Maybe the point is not to recover the old memory perfectly.
Maybe the point is to return with the person I am now and see whether new memories can be made beside the old ones.
Today’s Horoscope
Today’s Cancer horoscope speaks of a role or path that may not have felt right at first. It may have begun out of necessity, maybe even desperation, because it offered something needed. But now, dear Moonchild, there may be signs coming that this path was not just survival. It may have been alignment. It may have been one of those unexpected turns that proves itself later.
That lands today.
Because I have been looking at coursework again, looking forward to starting my new course on May 12th. And if I can manage it financially, I may even try to pull off two courses at once.
Not just to collect credits.
Not just to say I took another class.
But because this gives me something real to stand on.
It gives educational backing to the work I am doing with Standing on the Ledge. It means I am not only speaking from lived experience, although lived experience matters. It means I am also building the structure, the language, and the grounding to support the tools I create.
That feels important.
The horoscope speaks of validation and reassurance. Of a path that may have started rough, uncertain, or out of need, but is beginning to show signs that it may work out better than expected.
That is not a bad message to carry into the day.
Today’s Reading
For today’s spread, we have:
- Past: The Wheel of Fortune
- Present: Ten of Pentacles
- Future: Page of Cups
- Querent: Seven of Wands reversed
The Wheel of Fortune — The Past
In the past position, we have the Wheel of Fortune.
In the Rider-Waite imagery, the Wheel turns in the heavens. Around it are symbols of fate, mystery, movement, and divine order. The sphinx sits above it, calm and watchful. The creatures in the corners hold their books, as if reminding us that every turn of the wheel belongs to a larger story.
This is not a card of stillness.
This is a card of cycles.
Things rising. Things falling. Doors opening. Doors closing. Chapters ending before we are ready. New chapters beginning before we feel prepared.
And when I look back, that fits.
The old pagan community. The friendships. The places I lived. The volunteer work. The people who were there, and the people who are no longer with us. The wheel turned. Life moved. People changed. Some stayed. Some left. Some passed beyond the veil.
The Wheel of Fortune in the past says: this was never frozen in time.
Even the sacred places move.
Even the circles change.
Even the fires we remember are not the same fires burning now.
But that does not make them less sacred.
It means they were alive.
Ten of Pentacles — The Present
In the present position, we have the Ten of Pentacles.
This is a card of legacy, roots, community, household, inheritance, and the structures that hold life together. In the Rider-Waite card, we see the elder seated beneath the archway, the family gathered, the dogs at his feet, the symbols of wealth and continuity surrounding the scene.
But wealth here does not have to mean money alone.
Sometimes wealth is memory.
Sometimes wealth is belonging.
Sometimes wealth is the education we are building, the tools we are shaping, the wisdom we are trying to pass forward.
Today, the Ten of Pentacles feels like a reminder that I am not just wandering through disconnected pieces of life. The pagan path, the coursework, Standing on the Ledge, the rebuilding, the rituals, the writing, the hard lessons, the old communities, the grief, the hope — they are not separate piles of stones.
They may be the foundation of something.
Brigid stands here with the forge and the flame, reminding me that skill is sacred. Craft is sacred. Learning is sacred. Turning pain into a tool that can warm someone else’s hands is sacred work.
The Ten of Pentacles says there is something being built here.
Maybe slowly.
Maybe imperfectly.
But built all the same.
Page of Cups — The Future
In the future position, we have the Page of Cups.
In the Rider-Waite imagery, the Page stands holding a cup, and from that cup rises a fish. It is strange, gentle, unexpected, almost playful. It is a message from the emotional and intuitive world. Something tender emerging from the depths.
This is not the hardened warrior.
This is not the accountant of pain.
This is the part of us still capable of wonder.
The Page of Cups in the future suggests that returning to old places may not only bring grief or comparison. It may bring surprise. A new conversation. A softened memory. A small emotional opening. A chance to see the place differently, not as it was, but as it is now.
Maybe there is a new memory waiting there.
Maybe there is a quiet reconnection.
Maybe there is simply a moment where the heart says, “Yes, this mattered. And yes, I am still here.”
Ratatoskr runs through this part of the reading, carrying messages between worlds. Between past and present. Between memory and reality. Between the living and the dead. Between who I was and who I am becoming.
Not every message arrives cleanly.
Some come scrambled.
Some come through grief.
Some come through laughter at the edge of an old firepit.
But the message still comes.
Seven of Wands Reversed — The Querent
Representing me, the querent, we have the Seven of Wands reversed.
Upright, the Seven of Wands shows a figure standing on higher ground, defending himself against six raised wands below. It is a card of resistance, pressure, defense, and holding your ground.
Reversed, it can speak of exhaustion. Of feeling overwhelmed. Of not wanting to be on guard all the time. Of wondering whether every hill needs to be defended.
And honestly, that feels accurate.
There is a part of me that does not want to return to old spaces armored up.
I do not want to walk in ready to defend who I became, what I lost, what I built, what changed, or why I disappeared from certain circles.
I do not want to turn memory into a battlefield.
Skadi stands here in the cold places, steady and sharp-eyed, reminding me that distance can teach. Survival can teach. The years outside the warmth of old circles can teach. But she also reminds me that not every return requires a spear in hand.
Sometimes strength is not in fighting.
Sometimes strength is in walking back into a place without surrendering yourself to it.
The Seven of Wands reversed says: lower the shield, but do not abandon your boundaries.
That feels like the right medicine.
The Fir Tree
And then there is the fir tree.
Evergreen. Watchful. Resilient. Standing through winter. Holding its shape when other things go bare.
The fir tree does not need the season to approve of it.
It simply remains.
That feels important today.
Because returning to an old place can make us question ourselves. Did I change too much? Did they? Will I still belong? Did I ever belong the way I thought I did?
The fir tree answers quietly:
You are allowed to have roots and still grow.
You are allowed to remember and still move forward.
You are allowed to return without becoming who you were.
The Overall Message
Today’s reading feels like a wheel turning back toward an old road, but not so I can live there again.
The Wheel of Fortune says the past changed because life changes.
The Ten of Pentacles says the present is asking me to recognize what is being built, not only financially or academically, but spiritually and structurally.
The Page of Cups says the future may still hold tenderness, surprise, and emotional renewal.
The Seven of Wands reversed says I do not have to defend myself against every old ghost.
And the horoscope adds its own flame to the altar: what began as necessity may yet become validation. What started as survival may become prosperity. What felt uncertain may prove to have been part of the path all along.
So today, I sit with that.
The candles are lit.
The incense rises.
Brigid tends the forge.
Skadi watches from the snowline.
Ratatoskr carries the message between worlds.
The fir tree stands green against the weather.
And somewhere ahead, an old place waits.
Not as it was.
Not as memory preserved it.
But as it is.
And maybe that is enough.
Maybe I do not need the old fire to burn exactly the same way.
Maybe I only need to bring a small flame of my own.
Unplugged Pagan 