About
Hi, I'm Sun.
I read Korean saju from a small studio in Seoul. I write every reading by hand — no algorithms, no templates, no AI shortcuts. If you're here, you probably have a question that won't leave you alone. That's exactly the kind of question your chart was built to answer.
The story
Six years. One ending. Saju explained everything.
I used to think saju was something for grandmothers in Insadong. I was an engineer. I read papers, not charts.
Then a six-year relationship ended in a way I couldn't make sense of. Not the breakup itself — those happen. The pattern. The same kind of person, the same kind of ending, three times in a row. I had one of those nights where you suddenly realize you've been the common factor.
A friend in Gangnam dragged me to a saju reader, half as a joke. Two hours later I walked out with my whole life on a single sheet of paper. The patterns I'd been blaming myself for were sitting right there in my chart, written in eight characters from the moment I was born. Not as a sentence. As a tendency. Something I could finally see.
I spent the next three years studying — first to understand my own chart, then to learn how to read other people's. I trained under a teacher in Bukchon and read for friends, then friends of friends. Eventually a Substack reader in London asked if I could write hers in English. That was 2024. Sunvigation grew from there.
Philosophy
Your chart is a compass, not a cage.
I don't believe in fortune-telling. I don't tell people when they'll get married or how long they'll live. The future isn't fixed and I'm not in the business of pretending otherwise.
What saju does — what it's really good at — is naming the patterns you were born into. The kinds of people you reach for. The shape your love tends to take. The seasons of your life that feel like tailwinds, and the ones that feel like walking into fog. Once you can name a pattern, you stop being trapped inside it.
Every reading I write is meant to leave you with one thing: a clearer sense of which direction you're facing. What you do from there is yours.
How I write
By hand, in English, with your specific question in mind.
- 01
I calculate your chart manually.
Four pillars, ten heavenly stems, twelve earthly branches. The same method Korean saju readers have used for centuries.
- 02
I read it for the question you brought.
A chart can be read a hundred ways. Your concern tells me which lens to use.
- 03
I write in plain English.
No mystic jargon. If I use a Korean term, I explain it. You shouldn't need a glossary to understand your own life.
- 04
I never use fear.
No warnings, no curses, no "you must do this or else." Every reading ends with where to walk, not what to fear.
Feng shui
People and spaces speak the same language.
The further I went into saju, the more naturally feng shui followed. The five elements — Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water — are the same in both. Saju is about reading how those energies are arranged in a person. Feng shui is about reading how they move through a space. Same vocabulary, different subject.
Living in Seoul, moving between apartments, I started to feel this directly. Same person — but certain rooms made sleep come easy and others made me restless for no reason I could name. Some desks made concentration feel effortless; others felt like fighting the room. At first I called it mood. After studying feng shui, I understood it was arrangement.
A space consultation isn't a prediction. It's a close look at what you're already living inside — and what could be rearranged to hold your life better. You don't need to buy anything new. In most cases, moving what you already have is enough.
Ready to begin?
Pick whichever direction fits the question you came in with.