There is a tin of old coins somewhere in your life, each one heavy with a story, and you can probably feel the weight of it in your palm right now. With the Sun in your second house, the house of resources and worth, of what the body holds and decides is worth keeping, who you are grows up tangled in the solid things: the tools you trust, the table you can afford, the work your hands have already paid for. You measure who you are partly by what is yours. That is not greed. The material is simply where your light touches the world, and what you make of it is your own first craft. The pull you will want to watch is the one that calls itself prosperity but is really a shortcut, the quick yes that leaves you owning things that do not look anything like you. Earn at your own slow pace. Name your prices out loud. Keep what is genuinely worth keeping, and let the rest go. A life that does not feel like yours on an ordinary Tuesday morning was never really wealth, whatever the numbers said.