Today's
TarotReading

The Six of Cups carries the energy of the sacred first-remembering-sister — the one who keeps the sweetness of the early years and offers it back to the present. She belongs to the suit of Cups, the suit of water, feeling, and relationship. After the hard losses of the Five, the Six arrives like a soft breath: a reminder that we are made of good memories, too.

The Six of Cups does not, faithfully, mean being stuck in the past. At her best she is the sister who still calls you by your childhood nickname, the friend who remembers your old dreams, the village that knew you first. She carries innocence, kindness, and the simple joy of giving without needing anything back.

Today the waning Moon enters Gemini, the sign of the twins, of siblings and neighbors, on Mercury’s own Wednesday — while Mercury walks retrograde, turning us toward the past. Few cards could carry this mix of memory and kinship more gently.

In an old village courtyard, an older girl bends gently to offer a younger child a golden cup filled with small white flowers. Five more cups of blossoms rest on the stone steps around them. Behind them stand the warm walls of a familiar house, and in the distance an old friend passes by. A sprig of lavender rests among the flowers in her cup.

The six cups are the gifts of the heart, overflowing and freely shared. The white flowers stand for innocence and fresh beginnings that grow from old roots. The courtyard and the house are home — the place we come from, the place that shaped us. The figure in the distance is the friend who is never truly gone. She is not reaching backward to stay. She is carrying the past forward as a gift.

The Six of Cups on Mercury’s own Wednesday asks the sovereign feminine one small tender question: who knew me before I became who I am, and how might I honor that bond today?

Some people hold chapters of our story that no one else can read. Their voices return us to ourselves.

Mercury retrograde makes this a classic season for reunions — the unexpected message, the old friend in the grocery store, the photograph that falls out of a book. The Gemini Moon adds lightness and a wish to talk.

And because the Moon is waning, the reflection carries a gentle direction: not starting new things, but returning to what was already good.

The past, softly held, is not a place to hide. She is the sovereign feminine in the old courtyard, bending to offer a cup of white flowers — the sweetness of what was, given freely to what is.

I stand, softly, as the remembering-sister stands — honoring the people who knew me first, and offering the sweetness of our shared story as a gift to the present day.

1. Which childhood memory still brings you a feeling of warmth and safety?
2. Who are the people who knew you in an earlier season of your life, and which of them do you miss?
3. What simple, innocent joy from your younger years could you invite back into your days?
4. How can you carry the best of your past forward without needing to live there?

Lucy Maud Montgomery — born in Clifton, Prince Edward Island, in 1874, who lost her mother as a baby and was raised by her grandparents in the farming village of Cavendish; who began keeping a journal and writing stories as a girl; who worked as a teacher and a newspaper writer before her first novel, Anne of Green Gables (1908), became an international success; who went on to write some twenty novels and hundreds of stories; and who died in 1942 — gave these words to her red-haired, talkative heroine, Anne Shirley, in that first book.

Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world. Anne, an orphan who once believed she would always be alone, discovers that the people who understand her are everywhere — in neighbors, teachers, old women, and friends she never expected. It is one of the most beloved discoveries in children’s literature: the joy of finding your people, again and again, throughout life.

Today’s Six of Cups lives in Montgomery’s words directly. Anne once believed she would always be alone. Instead she discovered kindred spirits everywhere — and the remembering-sister knows that many of ours are already waiting in our own story.

“Those Were the Days” — Mary Hopkin (from Post Card, 1969)

Mary Hopkin — born in Pontardawe, Wales, in 1950, who grew up singing in Welsh chapels and was discovered as a teenager on a television talent show — recorded “Those Were the Days” in 1968 as one of the first releases on the Beatles’ Apple Records, with Paul McCartney producing. Its tune comes from an old Russian romance song, with English words by Gene Raskin. The single reached number one in Britain and number two in the United States, and it later appeared on her 1969 album Post Card.

Today’s Six of Cups lives in this song. It is a gentle look back at a circle of friends who once sang and dreamed together, and at the bittersweet feeling of meeting the past again. It holds nostalgia with tenderness — the sweetness of what was, and the wisdom that time brings.