What I used to be like
I tend to be skeptical. Excessively rational, with a habit of dismissing anything I can't verify directly. That's what I did for years with the spiritual side of life: I ignored it, treated it with condescension, filed it under "things for people who aren't very rigorous."
Astrology? A hobby for people with nothing better to do.
Karma? A nice metaphor, at best.
Dreams with meaning? Neurons randomly dumping information.
Today I don't believe any of what I believed back then. Not because I consciously chose to be more "open-minded," but because life kept putting me in situations where my skepticism, one by one, took a well-deserved hit.
This is as honest an account as I can give. Important things shouldn't be hidden out of fear of being seen as crazy or misunderstood — though I'll admit it cost me something to write them. And to connect this to astrology: there's a configuration in my natal chart that describes exactly this fear. Chiron in Gemini, the 12th house, in opposition to Mercury in Sagittarius. Chiron is an asteroid associated with a person's deepest wound, and in Gemini it speaks to a wound around communication, expression, voice. The 12th house is also the house of the subconscious. The opposition to Mercury — the planet that governs thinking and speaking — makes it even more visible.
Some things will be left intentionally vague, others omitted entirely. But I want to share from my own experience, because it's relevant to what I ended up building — and it might help someone who's where I used to be.
The first crack — the astrologer who knew what I didn't
The first time I went to an astrologer, it wasn't my idea. A friend sent me. I went more out of curiosity than anything else. I walked in with the same skepticism I'd have brought to a palm reader.
Among other things, the astrologer told me I would divorce.
At the time, I was single. Not in any relationship. Not planning to get married anytime soon. It seemed so irrelevant that I didn't even really take it in.
But I remembered it.
Time passed. I got married. And, a few years later, I divorced. That acted as a trigger, which made me search for the truth to see for myself if astrology is actually real.
The divorce itself wasn't the hardest part. It came bundled with news that devastated everyone: a nephew who had just joined the family with a serious health condition. And then, on top of the poorly managed stress, I got sick. The verdict: an autoimmune disease. Medically incurable, but manageable if you're very careful. I had already lost 10% of my body weight.
The crisis
I ended up alone, sick, and without a job. No clear prospects anywhere. I have to admit the job — that was entirely my own doing. I'll explain later.
I don't want to exaggerate for dramatic effect. I want to be precise: it was the kind of situation where there's nothing to lean on, no direction, no energy. The friends I'd had weren't around anymore. (Except one, who had his own family and his own problems.) I didn't know why I was living through what I was living through, and I couldn't find any sense in it. Especially since I'm the kind of person who overthinks everything and ruminates excessively.
And right then, the dreams started. When I needed any kind of help the most.
The dreams
The first dream was simple and direct: it showed me I wasn't where I was supposed to be and pointed out a few specific errors in my thinking.
Others followed. I dreamed of an aunt who had passed and she conveyed something that made me search even further. I dreamed of mistakes from past lives and their consequences in this one. I dreamed I was repeating my parents' patterns. I dreamed that I needed to make an effort to grow professionally and spiritually. And I also had dreams where I was shown what I'd done right — significantly fewer, it's true, but they were there.
Something important: everything I was shown in these dreams, I later found described in astrology books. Not as vague hints, but with enough precision that I could no longer chalk it up to coincidence.
Help that came from nowhere
At some point, curiosity pushed me to find someone who could do a past-life regression with me. It didn't work out — every time my schedule aligned, the facilitator's didn't, and vice versa. I understood later (he "measured" it and confirmed) that it wasn't the right moment: I was already too unsettled, and adding information about mistakes from past lives would have been too much. It wouldn't have helped me at all.
But he "sent" me instead to a medium. Who immediately demonstrated he knew what he was talking about — he told me things only I knew, and also things I didn't know myself, and passed on messages from relatives who had passed. He told me I would meet someone who would help me heal from the autoimmune disease. A pragmatic man, a disciple of Valeriu Popa (for those familiar with the name), who spoke to me about water fasting. He also told me that the illness had been given to me as a gift. A very interesting shift in perspective.
He also told me I was "at maximum on creativity" — a clear message to do something in that direction. I have several planets in the 5th house, the house that governs creativity, personal creation, authentic expression.
Dan and the water fast
From the astrological reading I'd had done, I'd already learned that water fasting, thermal cures, and oligomineral treatments can restore health for people with the ascendant I have. I'd also learned that Uranus in the 6th house — the house of health and daily routines — favors unconventional healing methods, considered strange or fringe by many. Uranus in the 6th house encourages approaching health from a completely new, holistic perspective.
When a water fast of at least 14 days was proposed as a method of healing, I quickly connected the dots with what I already knew and I accepted. I also accepted because the person who made the diagnosis — Dan — did so at our first conversation, over the phone, without asking for additional details. He is someone who "sees" more than most of us do with ordinary eyes. He gave me books to read about how karma works and methods of purification, because water fasting is exactly that: physical and energetic purification. More on that in another post, another time.
It was a hard period. I felt alone, powerless, without purpose. After the illness set in — emotional or karmic in origin — and through the fast, I had come down to 42.5 kg — a drop of over 20% from my normal weight. Even though walking was difficult, I knew this was a phase that would pass and that I'd come out stronger.
Other necessary experiences
At one point, some friends from Moldova took me to an to a priest who no longer practiced as a priest, but received people with health problems: he would tell them what issues they had — known or unknown — and gave them appropriate remedies. He was loved and respected throughout the surrounding community. He also told me what medical astrology had already revealed, and gave me some remedies. The autoimmune disease had been overcome by then, but Uranus in transit was creating other "minor" problems. Worth noting: not all predispositions manifest at once — each one appears when its time comes, triggered by planetary transits or when the emotional "cup" overflows. That's why I mentioned that a chart can reveal predispositions you're not feeling yet, things you don't even know about.
The nodal return and the meaning of the moment
All of these things happened almost simultaneously, around age 36. That's not a coincidence.
In astrology, the lunar nodes are two mathematical points in the natal chart tied to the soul's direction: the North Node shows where you're called to evolve, the South Node shows where you come from and what you need to move beyond. The nodes complete a full cycle in approximately 18–19 years, so at 36–38 they return to the exact position they were in at birth. This moment is called the "nodal return" and is considered, in astrology, the age of true maturation — when destiny corrects your trajectory if you're not on your path.
I was not on my path. I was off in many ways. And destiny corrected.
Without understanding this context, I would have suffered more and for nothing — I would have believed I was unlucky, that life was unfair, that there's no logic in anything. Understanding the mechanism allowed me to move through the crisis with a different level of clarity.
The Sabian Degree — a camel and a desert
Here's another small detail through which astrology helped me at exactly the right moment: the Sabian Degree of my Moon.
A brief explanation: in astrology, each of the 360 degrees of the zodiac has an associated symbolic image — these are called Sabian Symbols and were channeled in the 1920s by astrologer Marc Edmund Jones together with a clairvoyant. They're not used in mainstream astrology, but for those who study them, they offer an additional layer of depth.
The degree of my Moon reads:
"A LARGE CAMEL CROSSING A VAST AND FORBIDDING DESERT. You may find that the situation already has been like a difficult journey, but you still have to go on. Trust in the fact that you have the survival reserves and the stamina to succeed. You can rely on yourself. Self-confidence and self-control are needed. Completing the journey, protecting yourself from spiritual 'sunstroke.' Facing the trials of karma."
When I read this, in the middle of my crisis, it gave me a dose of hope and a strange sense of recognition. As if the information had been there all along, waiting for me to be ready to receive it.
Scorpio and its path
I don't just have the Sun in Scorpio — I have what's called a strong Scorpio signature, meaning multiple planets or sensitive points in the chart concentrated in this sign.
Scorpio has a heavy reputation, and for good reason: it's the sign of transformation through crisis. Through symbolic death. Through loss. Unlike other signs that evolve through accumulation, Scorpio evolves through letting go — and it doesn't let go easily.
There's a classic model of Scorpio's evolution, described in three stages symbolized by three animals:
- The Scorpion — reactive, driven by survival instinct, always on guard, ready to attack or self-sabotage
- The Eagle — the one who rises above drama and sees life with detachment and wisdom
- The Phoenix — total rebirth from its own ashes
Looking back, I recognize each stage in different periods of my life. And I understand why some things had to happen the way they did.
One of Scorpio's main lessons is detachment — letting go of people, relationships, the past, resentments. Another is self-mastery: moving the energy of control from the outside (others, circumstances) toward the inside (your own reactions, your own path). The medium told me exactly the same thing, in different words.
What I came to understand
If it hadn't been for this mix of events and information coming from different sources at the right moment, I would have stayed skeptical. I would have kept treating ideas about past lives, karma, and destiny as unsubstantiated theories.
Now I have no doubt. Because I lived through things I couldn't explain any other way, confirmed from too many independent directions to be coincidence.
A person with clairvoyance accesses information from the informational field. Karma is inscribed in the energetic body. Everything you do, say, and think remains recorded in the informational field and produces effects sooner or later. What some call "mystical" is, in fact, scientifically not yet understood — not non-existent.
These abilities can be developed. There's nothing supernatural about it in the sense of impossible — it's simply outside the model our education gave us.
I hope this story helps someone who is where I used to be: rigid in thinking, convinced that the rational mind is the only valid filter. You don't have to give up reason. You just have to let it receive more information before it draws conclusions.
Other correlations with astrology
Jupiter in Aquarius, 8th house. Jupiter is the planet of expansion and luck; the 8th house (ruled by Scorpio) is the house of crises, deep transformations, and hidden resources. A kind of "guardian angel in crisis": when you hit rock bottom, a resource or unexpected help always appears to lift you back up.
Aquarius adds a specific nuance: you understand crisis with a visionary detachment, as a necessary experiment for evolution, not as punishment. The 8th house adds psychological depth — you don't flee the pain, you dive into it and understand its hidden mechanisms. Crisis becomes initiation.
An evolution mantra for Scorpios — I'm leaving it here because it's good for anyone:
"I release the need to control. I trust the flow of life. I fall, I burn, but I always rise stronger, purer, and freer."
