http://WanderingsofaSpiritualist.org/

Wanderings of a Spiritualist, New Braunfels, TX (2026)

05/01/2026

Fire Above, Root Below

Beltane and the Work Beneath

Beltane is here, and the Full Moon in Scorpio is already at work.

What is ready to grow is rising. What cannot stay is being brought up with it.

Beltane has always marked this turning—when life is no longer waiting beneath the surface, but moving outward, visible, embodied, undeniable. Fire, bloom, breath, heat. The earth crossing into itself again, fully awake.

And that same movement runs through Scorpio.
Not in opposition, but in depth. In what lies under root and soil. In what has been held there, waiting to be brought up.

The ground is being turned. What is ready to be planted is coming forward—and so is everything that must be cleared before it can take hold.

Nothing moves forward carrying everything.

What has been held too long, what has settled into the body, into the home, into the unseen spaces around us—it has to be lifted, named, and released before anything new can truly take root.
This is where the work becomes quiet again.

Not in display, but in tending. In water. In breath. In the simple acts that return things to their rightful place and clear what does not belong.

Beltane carries its own kind of intensity.
It is not a quiet season. It is movement, attraction, exchange. What draws together, what reaches outward, what seeks to meet and be met. Life moving toward life.

And as that movement opens, Scorpio moves through it as well.

Not to stop it—but to reveal what is not in balance within it.

Where energy is uneven. Where something is being given without being received. Where closeness begins to carry weight instead of nourishment. These things do not stay hidden under this kind of sky.

They rise.

Not to break what is real—but to bring it back into right relationship.

This is where the body becomes part of the conversation.

Where the nervous system responds before the mind can make sense of it. Where something feels off, or heavy, or too much, even when nothing obvious is wrong.

That is not confusion.

It is the body recognizing imbalance.
And this is part of the work of this moment as well.

To notice where exchange has become uneven.

To feel where something is being held too tightly, or given too freely.

To allow what is out of alignment to surface so it can be adjusted, cleared, and brought back into balance.

Because what is being built now—what is being planted and set into motion—cannot hold if the foundation beneath it is strained.
There are simple ways to meet this time without overcomplicating it.

Beltane has always been honored through tending what is alive.

A flame lit with intention. A doorway opened to let the air move through. Fresh herbs brought into the home, touched, worked with, given purpose. Time spent outside, even briefly, letting the body remember its place in the season.

It is less about ritual in form, and more about participation.

Letting yourself step into what is growing, rather than standing apart from it.
And alongside that, Scorpio asks for a different kind of attention.

Not outward, but inward. Not what is visible, but what is felt underneath it.

To notice what lingers after interaction.
What feels heavy after closeness.
What stays in the body when everything else has moved on.

And to tend to that just as deliberately.

Water becomes important here. Running it over the hands, over the body, letting it carry off what has settled. Working with herbs that clear and cut through what feels stagnant. Opening the space, letting the air move, allowing what has been stirred up to actually leave.

This is not separate from the season.

It is part of it.

Because growth and clearing are happening at the same time.
What is being planted now will take hold more easily when the ground beneath it has been tended, when what does not belong has been moved out of the way.

And that work does not have to be complicated.
It only has to be consistent.

This is a living moment.
Not something to observe from a distance, but something to step into with awareness, with care, with intention.

What is rising is not random.

What is being brought up is not without purpose.

The ground is open. The air is moving. The work is already in motion.

And what is done with it now—what is cleared, what is kept, what is chosen to be carried forward—will shape what takes root in the weeks ahead.

There is nothing separate here.

Only the moment as it is, and the way it is met.

04/14/2026

Hello — I wanted to share something I’m beginning here in New Braunfels.

My name is Cassandra. I recently relocated to the Hill Country and am starting a monthly women’s circle — a real, in-person gathering focused on conversation, reflection, and practical, grounded ways of reconnecting with ourselves and the natural Spiritual energy existing in all things.

This is not just a class or a formal workshop. I'm hoping this grows like my previous community in Alabama, where we will have a collective of women sharing information, passion, and education based around a monthly theme set by our beloved moon every month.

It’s a space for women to sit together, talk about real life, and build something steady and supportive over time.

We’ll be meeting monthly, aligned with the New Moon as of June, and the first introductory gathering will be held in early May as a meet and greet with a little fun, some sweet treats, and a bit of collaborative discussion. All events will be posted privately within the group. As of right now, the events will take place in my home in New Braunfels.

If you’ve been looking for something more consistent, more grounded, and more spirit-connected, you’re welcome to join us.

I’ve created a private group where I’m sharing details and upcoming dates. If this resonates, feel free to join:

[https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1HtYi66ukR/](https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1HtYi66ukR/)

You’re also welcome to reach out directly if you have questions.

04/06/2026

There’s this mind space I’ve found myself in lately where, no matter the peace I’ve worked hard to create and maintain externally, my insides feel like they’re crawling and scraping—scanning for anything, everything, that could be wrong.

Even in the morning, as I wake, there’s this weight sitting in my chest. Anxiety. Very real. Very present.

And no perceivable reason for it.

My immediate reaction is always the same—how do I control this? How do I get ahead of it before it turns into something real?

Because somewhere along the way, my mind learned that control is what keeps me safe. And it doesn’t just show up in moments like this, it’s in everything—the way I think, the way I speak, the way I present myself, and especially in the way I turn on myself when I can’t hold it all together, when I become vulnerable, when something slips through, when the pressure builds and finally has somewhere to go.

It starts before my eyes even open, and it lingers long after I’ve tried to put the day down and sleep.

And what I’m beginning to understand is that this space—this transition between a life shaped by survival, sometimes for decades, and a life that is meant to be lived with intention and some kind of peace—can be one of the most unsettling places to stand. This is where we know the container of Self and Spirit that we are intentionally creating is deciding what needs to be held and what needs to be released. What programming belongs here?

It asks something different of you. It asks for compassion, for patience, for a kind of kindness toward yourself that survival never made room for.

And it asks you to begin creating a place inside of you where all of this doesn’t get to take over. This is the container of our internal peace and progressive, balanced dialogue that our Spirit is to reside.

And when I really sit with it, without trying to fix it or push it away, I can feel where it’s coming from in a way that’s actually very clear.

This isn’t random, and it isn’t something new that just showed up out of nowhere—it’s something that’s been built over time, piece by piece, in response to the kind of life that required me to be aware, to be ready, to stay ahead of things so nothing slipped through the cracks.

And when you live like that for long enough, your mind learns how to simplify everything down into what feels like the safest way to operate—what needs my attention, what could go wrong, what has to be handled now so it doesn’t become something bigger later.

There isn’t really space in that for stillness, or patience, or even trust. It becomes a way of moving that is constant, immediate, and very convincing.

And the part that’s taken me some time to understand is that even when your life begins to change, when things become more stable and more intentional and there is actual space to breathe, that pattern doesn’t just disappear.

It keeps running, quietly, underneath everything, doing exactly what it was built to do.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I started to realize that trying to get ahead of it—trying to think my way out of it or control it before it turned into something—was still part of the same pattern I was trying to move out of.

It was still me operating from that place that believes everything needs to be handled now, that something is always about to happen if I don’t stay in front of it.

So instead of trying to shut it down or letting it take over completely, I had to begin finding a different way to be with it. Not outside of myself, not by escaping it, but by creating a place within myself where it didn’t get to lead.

A place that feels steady, even when I don’t. Where I can notice what’s happening without immediately responding to it, without following it into every possible outcome or letting it pull me into that familiar urgency that used to feel necessary.

And it’s not something that just appears fully formed. It’s something I’ve had to return to, again and again, especially on the days where everything feels unsettled or louder than usual.

Because the truth is, life doesn’t stop bringing challenges. Things will still come up. There will still be moments that ask something of you. But there is a difference between meeting those moments when they arrive, and living them over and over again before they ever do.

And what I’ve learned is that this shift doesn’t happen just by understanding it. It has to be felt and practiced, in real time, in the body, in the mind, and in the way I choose to hold myself in those moments.

For me, it often starts by noticing where I am physically—my feet on the floor, my hands around something warm, the steadiness of my breath when I allow it to slow. Not to force anything away, but to remind my body that I am here, and that nothing is happening to me right now.

From there, I have to be just as intentional with my mind. The pull to follow the thought, to answer it, to get ahead of it, is strong—but I’ve learned that I don’t have to go with it. I can hear it, acknowledge that it’s there, and choose not to build anything around it. Not to turn it into a story, not to let it decide what this moment means.

And somewhere between those two, I begin to create space. Not dramatic, not immediate, but enough.

Enough to come back to myself.

Enough to remember that I am not in what my mind is preparing me for—I am in what is actually here.

And in that space, something else becomes available. Something quieter, steadier, and more aligned with the life I am actually building.

Every single day is a new beginning and another shift into alignment.

03/17/2026

"Framing the Question: Creating Clarity in Tarot Readings"

When people first encounter tarot, the cards themselves often feel intimidating.

Seventy-eight cards, layered symbols, centuries of interpretation — it can feel overwhelming at first. Many people wonder how spirit could possibly communicate through something as simple as a deck of cards.

I understand that feeling well. Tarot once felt intimidating to me too.

Over time, however, something important became clear through both practice and spiritual instruction: the cards themselves are only part of the process. What matters just as much is how the space for the reading is created.

Many readings become confusing not because the cards are unclear, but because the question being asked is tangled with anxiety, fear, or too many moving parts.

Tarot itself is not unsafe, but a reading can begin to feel unstable when the question introduces bias, uncertainty, or emotional pressure. When the inquiry is unclear, the cards may appear contradictory, and the reader may begin to second-guess both the interpretation and their own intuition.

One of the most important things a diviner can learn is how to create a stable container for the reading.

Clarity in the question and structure in the spread allow the cards to speak within a calm and intentional space.

This understanding was reinforced for me through my mentor in divination, Stuart Myers — known in our tradition as Ochani Lele — who emphasized two essential skills for anyone working with divination.

The first is learning to become a good storyteller. The message revealed through the cards must be shared in a way that people can actually receive and understand.

The second is learning how to frame the question properly before the cards are ever drawn.

When the question moves forward with clarity rather than fear, the cards become much easier to interpret.

Instead of asking questions rooted in anxiety —
“Is my husband cheating on me?”
“Am I going to lose my home?”

The inquiry can be reframed in ways that invite clearer understanding.

“Is my husband faithful in his communication?”
“Is my husband emotionally faithful?”
“Is my husband physically faithful?”

Or instead of asking vaguely what may happen at work, the cards can be asked to reveal the energy flow that led to the present moment and how that energy may unfold in the months ahead.

Equally important is knowing exactly what each card placement represents.

When I begin looking at a situation, I often start with three simple placements:

one card representing the mind
one card representing the heart
and one card representing a deeper influence or signifier

From these three cards alone, it becomes possible to see the energy a person is bringing into the reading — where their thoughts are, where their emotions are, and what deeper current may be shaping the situation.

Once that foundation is clear, the rest of the reading becomes much easier to navigate.

Over time, tarot stopped feeling intimidating to me. What once seemed complicated began to reveal a natural rhythm.

The cards are not mysterious objects that hold power on their own.

They are simply a vehicle for information — a language through which spirit can communicate insight, reflection, and direction.

When the question is framed clearly and the structure of the reading is intentional, the cards become something much simpler than people often imagine.

They become a conversation.

** FOR MORE TAROT EDUCATION AND CONVERSATION JOIN OUR GROUP "Talking Tarot"!
https://www.facebook.com/groups/484769481707946

02/27/2026

A painted Texas sky demands our attention. Almost as if it's igniting the sky in ceremony for the early morning event of the a full lunar eclipse Tuesday morning.

The night sky has always carried mystery for us.

Long before we understood its mechanics, we told stories about what we saw there. The Moon especially — we’ve projected meaning onto her for as long as we’ve been able to lift our eyes upward. Even now, when we can measure and map her movement, there is still that quiet question that rises when we look at her: what are you, really… and why are you here?

So when the Moon does something extraordinary — like enter a lunar eclipse in the early hours tomorrow morning — that sense of awe expands. The stories deepen. The symbolism becomes more alive. It captures our imagination again.

That's worth talking about.

Not just the beauty of it, but what these moments tend to stir in us. Because eclipses don’t only happen in the sky. They tend to correspond with shifts we’re already living through — changes in direction, changes in understanding, changes in what we’re willing to carry.

This particular eclipse closes a sequence that began with the recent solar eclipse. Solar eclipses initiate movement. They alter trajectory. They begin reorganizing structures in ways we don’t always immediately recognize. Sometimes it shows up as a new opportunity. Sometimes as friction. Sometimes as clarity that disrupts comfort.

The lunar eclipse is different. It completes what was set in motion. It brings the emotional body into alignment with the external shift. Where the solar eclipse adjusts the path, the lunar eclipse adjusts the heart.

If the last couple of weeks have felt charged, unsettled, sharpened, or quietly decisive, that makes sense. Eclipse seasons compress time. They accelerate development. They tend to move us past the point where we can keep negotiating with what we already know.

Most of us do not initiate major change simply because we should. We adapt. We tolerate. We wait for certainty. Eclipse seasons don’t always give us that luxury. They reveal what has ripened enough to end. They clarify what has matured enough to begin.

And this isn’t chaotic. It’s precise.

The celestial system is ordered with extraordinary care. Some cycles return every year. Some every seven years. Some every thirty. Some only once or twice in a lifetime. These eclipse seasons — arriving twice a year — act almost like calibration points. They keep the larger rhythm intact. They correct drift. They maintain forward movement.
Which means what you’re feeling isn’t random.

You may notice conversations resolving.
Decisions landing. Attachments loosening. You may feel unexpectedly tired, or unexpectedly clear. You may wake up in the coming days aware that a chapter has quietly sealed itself.

That is how lunar eclipses tend to work. They finalize.

By the time this one passes, the adjustment period that began with the solar eclipse will have completed its arc. The sky will have done its work.

And in subtle but real ways, so will you.

Not dramatically. Not theatrically.

Structurally.

That kind of change is felt in the soul first and then carried into the world to create change yet again.

You, dearest, are just as much a part of that cycle... that web... as is the glorious Moon herself.

02/20/2026

There is a very particular kind of work happening today.

The Three of Pentacles stands at the center — collaboration, craftsmanship, being witnessed in what you are building. Not performance. Not proving. But real work. The kind that requires your hands, your mind, and at least one other presence who sees what you’re shaping.

This is not a solitary day.

And yet, the card we lean into is the Five of Pentacles.

Which feels contradictory until you understand it.

Today asks you to remember what it feels like to need support — without shame. To acknowledge where you have felt outside the warmth of the room. Where you have felt under-resourced, unseen, or stretched thin. That memory softens you. It humbles you. It makes you better at building with others.

Let the tenderness inform the teamwork.

What we avoid is Death.

Not transformation itself — that is sacred and inevitable. But the impulse to burn something down prematurely. The urge to declare something over when it is simply uncomfortable. The dramatic severing. The “fine, then I’m done.”

This is not a scorched-earth day.

It is a refinement day. A co-creation day. A repair-through-effort day.

Stay in the room.
Stay in the conversation.
Stay with the process.

And if this message lands, tell me which energy you’re feeling most.

02/18/2026

Want to create your own small Water Ritual for stress and release? Check out my new blog that just dropped!

🌊 SWEET WATER and SMALL ALTARS 🏵

Link Below!
https://www.wanderingsofaspiritualist.org/post/sweet-water-and-small-altars

02/18/2026

During my time away, I took my daughter to the Guadalupe River.

The water was clear in that way only living water can be — slow, steady, ancient. The kind of river that remembers things long before you arrived and will remember long after you leave. We went there because when something feels heavy, I bring it to water.

When the last flower was set afloat, and the candles were extinguished, one vulture broke from the others and landed in the tree beside us, close enough that we could see the intelligence in its eyes. It did not feel like a coincidence. It felt like acknowledgment. Like the quiet moment when you understand your offering was received.d.ve something back.

We spoke quietly to our ancestral mothers. We thanked the river for carrying what we cannot. My daughter chose what she wanted to leave for the spirits who guard that stretch of bank. Children do not need to be convinced that the world is alive — they already know.

Then we began to release.

One flower at a time, she named what was weighing on her — a worry, a hurt, a pressure — and placed each daisy into the current. We watched the petals turn, catch light, and drift away until they were no longer ours to carry.

While we stood there, a group of vultures gathered in the trees above us — loud, watchful, present. Vulture has never meant death to me. It means survival. It means transformation. It means prosperity earned through endurance. It is deeply tied to the river spirits I honor.

When the last flower was set afloat and the candles were extinguished, one vulture broke from the others and landed in the tree beside us, close enough that we could see the intelligence in its eyes. It did not feel like coincidence. It felt like acknowledgment. Like the quiet moment when you understand your offering was received.

That is what ritual is meant to be — not performance, not aesthetics for a photograph — but exchange. A giving and a witnessing.

If you are carrying something that feels too large for your chest, take it to water. Bring a flower. Speak its name aloud. Let your hands be the ones that release it.

The river knows how to carry what you cannot. 10/10 suggest trying for yourself.

02/17/2026

The beginning of the calendar year is very reflective for me.

It’s the season where I turn inward — where I give my attention to my family, to my health, and to the internal work that sustains everything I build publicly. I take that time seriously. This work asks for clarity, strength, and steadiness, and I’ve learned that I do it best when I allow myself to recalibrate before stepping fully back into visibility.

These past couple of months have been just that. Present. Focused. Intentional in ways that don’t always show on the surface.

This morning’s solar eclipse was always marked in my calendar as the point where I would turn outward again. Not because something suddenly shifted, but because the preparation has been made. The reflection has been done. The foundation feels strong. The Great Spirit shows us the way.

I care deeply about what I create and how I show up — for my family, for my clients, and for the people who have walked alongside me for years. So when I step forward, I want it to be aligned.

There’s a quiet kind of excitement in that.

I’m grateful for the rhythm of it all — the inward season and the outward one — and I’m looking forward to what this year becomes.

I cannot wait to see where Spirit takes us next!

02/17/2026

🌑 This morning’s solar eclipse opened a new era.

🐍 The Snake has shed its skin.
🔥 The Fire Horse is stepping forward.

Earlier this morning, we experienced a powerful solar eclipse — a cosmic reset point.

Combined with the transition from the Year of the Snake into the Year of the Fire Horse, we are stepping into an entirely new era.

Many of you have been feeling it.

The shedding.
Old trauma surfacing from deep cellular memory.
Relationships shifting.
Identity dissolving and reforming.
Questions that refuse to stay quiet.

The Snake year required shedding.
The Fire Horse demands movement, courage, and ignition.

To honor this threshold, I’m offering a 7-day Chinese New Year + Eclipse Special:

✨ Full 60-minute session — $99 (normally $150)
✨ The first 6 people who book receive a FREE candle vigil for the situation of their choice (a $199 value)

This special begins today and ends next Tuesday — exactly seven days.

This session is designed to:
• Bring clarity to major transitions
• Illuminate patterns rising to the surface
• Answer long-standing unanswered questions
• Ground you before the Fire Horse accelerates the pace

The first six bookings receive a full candle vigil worked on your behalf — protection, love, healing, crossroads, ancestral support, court matters, or any focused intention.

If you feel the shift happening around (or within) you — this is your moment to gain clarity before you move forward and paired with a powerful candle worked.... the fire power behind you to manifest the life you want most.

Reply to this email or message me to claim your spot.

Seven days. Then the portal closes.

*** DM me here or message me at (256) 503-6655 ***

01/28/2026

Good morning, loves ☀️
I’m sitting here on the bed with Atlas (my emotional support pony 🐾), and something feels different today. I’m not fully sure what shifted overnight — whether it’s the storm passing or something deeper — but the energy feels more grounded, more settled in the chest. The sacred heart and the solar plexus feel aligned in that quiet way where you don’t need to have everything figured out, you just feel steady in yourself 💛🔥 The ice has loosened, the air is warming, and it feels like the soul is thawing a little too. That’s the space I pulled cards from today.

🌿 Today’s Community Tarot Pull 🌿

General Energy — Eight of Coins 🪙
Today is about steady, intentional effort. Showing up for what matters in small, consistent ways. This is a day for tending, practicing, and staying present rather than rushing toward an outcome.

Lean Into — Temperance ⚖️
Balance is the medicine today. Blend rest with action, emotion with clarity, intuition with grounded choice. Move gently and honor your natural rhythm — there’s wisdom in pacing yourself.

Avoid / Be Mindful Of — Page of Wands 🔥
Be cautious of impulsive energy or chasing sparks too quickly. Not every idea needs immediate action. Let inspiration settle and mature before you leap.

Additional Message — Nine of Wands 🛡️
You may be tired, but you’re not finished. Protect your energy and your boundaries. This card reminds you how resilient you already are — strength doesn’t require pushing today.

✨ Together, these cards speak to a day of steadiness, balance, and self-trust. Move slowly, protect your energy, and let warmth return in its own time.
What part of this pull is speaking to you today? 🤍

Wanderings of a Spiritualist

05/01/2026

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