Solstice, Closure, and the Path Forward

Yesterday’s reading was unmistakably about energetic closure, and it named that closure with precision:

The Three of Pentacles (reversed), clarified by the Four of Pentacles, about the Queen of Pentacles.

The message landed cleanly: the shared work is done. What remains isn’t collaboration or conflict - it’s attachment. The Four of Pentacles wasn’t about scarcity so much as habit: holding on because letting go is unfamiliar. And the Queen of Pentacles beneath it all reminded me that stability isn’t something I negotiate for anymore. It’s something I inhabit.

Earlier this week, I submitted my divorce papers to the court clerk and yesterday, I packed up and moved the last of my possessions from the old house I shared with my ex-partner into my new home. It was surprisingly gentle. I could see how much she had changed the space - how fully she was spreading her wings and claiming her own agency - and I felt genuine pride for her. At the same time, it felt good to do the move myself, without strain, without drama, without entanglement. The ending was clean. The divorce is uncontested. We still have a good relationship.

That felt very Queen of Pentacles: grounded, capable, no theatrics required.

This morning - winter solstice - the reading shifted, but it didn’t undo anything.

The Fool (reversed), clarified by Judgement (reversed), about the Page of Wands (reversed). Still inward. Still quiet. But no longer about release - about orientation.

The Fool reversed wasn’t fear. It was awareness. I’ve already stepped off a cliff once; I don’t need to pretend I don’t know what falling feels like. Judgement reversed spoke to a private reckoning already complete - no trumpet, no audience. And the Page of Wands reversed held fire rather than spending it: curiosity warming itself before becoming a blaze.

Yesterday was the closing of the ledger. Today is knowing where I stand.

This afternoon I’ll walk the labyrinth, not to seek answers but to let my body remember what my life has already shown me. A labyrinth doesn’t ask you to choose. It only asks you to keep walking.

A solstice spell emerged from that knowing - something to carry step by step:

What’s ended has finished, and I know the way.

Dark made me, light drew me, and both may stay.

Fate find me, path guide me, all mazes the same.

Carry ash, carry ember, make room for the flame.

This solstice doesn’t feel dramatic or triumphant. It feels true. Something has finished its work. Something else is being tended.

The light is returning. Slowly.

And that’s enough.