The Rune Reading That Made Me Step Away—for a While

I’ve always treated rune readings with reverence. They’re not just party tricks or spiritual side quests—they’re intimate conversations with the self, through symbols that whisper truths we’re often not ready to hear out loud.

Several years ago, I gave a reading to a co-worker—let’s call her Sam. It was during lunch break, nothing elaborate. She was curious, open, and the reading mostly centered around themes of family, misaligned communication, and emotional release. Nothing apocalyptic, nothing that, in my mind, suggested any major upheaval on the horizon.

But the next morning, she quit her job. By the end of the week, she had packed her belongings and decided to live on the road.

My stomach dropped when I found out. Was it because of what I said? Did I plant a seed that triggered a radical life shift she wasn’t ready for? Was she safe? Did she regret it?

The guilt came quickly and sat heavy. I stopped giving readings. For three years, I put the runes away—not because I stopped believing in them, but because I questioned my role as a conduit. I thought that by reading for someone, I’d set something reckless in motion.

Eventually, I started opening up about what had happened. Other seasoned readers gently reminded me: reactions like that aren’t unusual. People come to spiritual tools already standing at the edge. Sometimes the reading just gives them permission to jump—or the clarity to walk away from something that’s been breaking them for too long.

What I didn’t understand back then is this: the responsibility of a rune reader isn’t to control the outcome. It’s to hold space. To offer reflection. To trust that those who receive the message will do with it what they’re ready for. And in hindsight, maybe Sam was ready. Maybe her reading gave her the validation she needed to choose freedom.

Eventually, the guilt loosened its grip. The runes found their way back into my hands. And I returned, more grounded, more discerning—but still open.

Because if there’s one truth I hold onto, it’s this: the runes never tell us what to do. They show us what’s already stirring inside.