The old scar and the familiar ground you came up from rest on the same slow current, warm and worn smooth by years. Chiron, the centaur whose injury turned into its wisdom, forms a trine to the south node, the lunar point of the well-known past you carry. The hurt and the home you know move together as one easy climate, so the ache reads less like a wound and more like an heirloom. What once cut you now lies in your hands with a quiet ease, ready to be passed on or laid down. Watch only that the comfort of the familiar pain does not keep you resting in it long after the lesson has gone out of it.