a year of change

A Celtic Cross Reading and a Year in Reflection

This weekend, my friend read my tarot cards for the first time in nearly a year. Same deck. Same spread. Slightly different table (we were on holiday). And an almost completely different story. I'm writing this down because the comparison between this year and last feels too significant to let drift away.

What struck me wasn't so much the individual cards, but the journey between them. Looking at the two readings side by side felt like watching a year's worth of growth, grief, healing, and change laid out on the table in front of me.

This Year's Spread

The Celtic Cross painted a picture of someone standing at a turning point.

At the heart of the reading sat the 4 of Swords - rest, stillness, a strategic pause. Not giving up. Not retreating. Gathering strength.

Beneath it lay The Moon as my root card: uncertainty, intuition, and the reminder that not everything can be solved through logic alone.

In my recent past was The Fool - a leap taken with hope and very little planning. Brave, chaotic, open-hearted. And, if I'm honest, a little naïve in the best possible way.

The challenges appearing right now centred around balance. The 6 of Pentacles asked whether the giving and receiving in my life is truly fair. A question worth sitting with.

My higher self sent the Knight of Swords charging in with a fairly direct message: stop overthinking. You already know. Move.

Noted.

The future cards were where things became particularly interesting.

The 5 of Cups reversed suggested turning away from grief and beginning to see what remains rather than focusing on what has been lost.

The Wheel of Fortune appeared as a potential outcome — cycles turning, momentum returning, and movement arriving after a long period of feeling stuck.

Then there was the Queen of Wands reversed in my hopes and fears position.

That card landed hardest.

She's bold, creative, magnetic, confident, fully herself — and she terrifies me a little. Not because I don't want to be her, but because I do.

The hope and the fear are the same card.

Make of that what you will.

The wildcard that flew from the deck during shuffling - uninvited but insistent - was the 6 of Swords. Quiet, purposeful movement away from turbulence and towards calmer waters.

The card chose me before the reading had even begun.

Last Year's Spread

A year ago, the cards felt much heavier.

The Wheel of Fortune reversed sat at the heart of the reading - stuck, blocked, refusing to turn.

The Devil loomed as the potential outcome.

There was Pentacles energy everywhere: a King, a reversed Knight, a 9. The reading carried a weight of concern around material security, financial stability, and the feeling that things weren't moving creatively or professionally.

The 5 of Cups appeared upright in my power position.

I was still inside the grief then, rather than moving through it.

And the wildcard card that flew out that night?

The Star.

Hope and healing arriving quietly after a storm.

The Comparison

Laid side by side, the shift feels extraordinary.

The Wheel of Fortune was my problem last year - reversed, immovable, stuck.

This year, it's my outcome.

The very thing that once felt like a trap now feels like a doorway.

The 5 of Cups moved from upright in my power position to reversed in my future.

Over the course of a year, I travelled through that card.

I sat with the grief.

And now I'm beginning to turn away from it.

The heavy Pentacles energy that dominated last year's reading - all that anxiety around money, security, and stability - has almost disappeared.

And the wildcard progression might be my favourite part of all.

2025: The Star - Hope is coming. Hold on.

2026: 6 of Swords - You're in the boat now. You're moving.

What I'm Taking Away

Tarot cards don't tell you what will happen. But sometimes they hold up a mirror so clearly that you can't look away. This year's spread is encouraging me to rest without guilt, trust my instincts in the fog, stop waiting until I feel ready, and step towards the version of myself that takes up space unapologetically.

The one with the sunflower.

The cat.

The fire.

The Queen of Wands is the outcome, not the obstacle.

I think I've always known that.

The wheel is turning. I'm in the boat.

The star came, and now there's movement….

STEADY MOVEMENT.

🌙⭐🌊

Reading by my wonderful friend, April 2026.