Witness the Sky

March 3rd, 2026; Lunar Eclipse in Virgo

During “lunar eclipses” we see energy planted returned to us as fruitful expression, what is to be harvested. In the expression of Virgo, a complete karmic purge cannot be underestimated, as she enters your home to totally clean house. Make the necessary preparations, lest you suffer embarrassment when she arrives at your door.

It is a time of dreams turned to action as Neptune and Saturn have entered Aries, the sign of singular determination. As with all planetary aspects, this only brings us a ripe opportunity; what is to be done is up to the individual alone. No external force is strong enough to propel the human spirit when properly-Willed. It is when we are most asleep that we become succumbed to the whims of the planets.

We see a healthy aspect to Jupiter, though the gas giant is in retrograde in Cancer. Our leaders may be too boisterous and bold during these times, and make decisions that will ultimately become deluged by collective empathy.

The light reflected upon the Moon (the Sun) is perfectly conjunct to Pallas Athene, an asteroid symbolizing the Greek Goddess, Athena. The war goddess gained her wisdom through the noble sacrifice of Pallas, her childhood friend. She represents strength through grief.

In our world, Palestinian children grow up only knowing oppression, and fight with bravery as a child that most will never know. Adult heads-of-state freely murder children to enact statewide terror, an abomination of humanity. Since the Israeli occupation began in 1948, generations of children have been born only knowing genocide. Adults in 2026 were once these children.

All Palestinians are children born into utter trauma, and rather than collapse into fear, have transmuted their suffering into action, dedicating their lives, in entirety, to reminding the rest of the world what it means to exist in humanity. In almost 80 years of effort, their voices have not been silenced, and now never will be.

As you focus on what the Virgo Eclipse, this Blood Moon, purges from your life, witness the strength, solidarity, and bravery of the children that freely sacrifice themselves for the justice of the future. Locate what things and aspirations you selfishly hold onto and try to let go of a fraction of this facade, knowing that it will never compare to the brave children of Palestine, who willingly forgo their future, or the 100+ Iranian schoolgirls murdered to jumpstart greater conflict, who now have no future.

Let their suffering be worth anything—at least, allow yourself to become aware. Recognize their brief existence. Just as Athena became charged by Pallas, reflecting upon her sacrifice to become a ruthless champion of wisdom and justice, know there is only one virtuous side to this conflict—that of the children—those with the most potential, that of a future, the budding spark of life, who give up everything so that your world might ultimately heal.

How many posts or blinks of the eye can transmute the foretold "trying times" into something more relatable from the past? Nostalgia, or “That thing that I remember” seems to be all anyone cares about, especially now, when we are as far from what we remember as we’ve ever been.

Talk of a "new normal" even sloppily evokes a re-imagination of what was once had, rather than facing the spectacle with a completely fresh field-of-view, understanding that as our cells change our physical selves into actual, entirely new beings, only our minds bring the context of our history, trauma, persona, into reflection regarding the present.

The body works on its own volition, and has the potential to be reborn a completely new being, time and time again. Yes, I said it! Metaphysical mumbo-jumbo! But this jumbo is for real, dawg. Let's be selfish. It's Leo season.

When we are told to "plant seeds," on a New Moon, it is done with the intention of some form of manifestation. Here we are looking to bare new fruits into our lives.

There are many caveats, however, that get in the way of our full psychological understanding of what it means to create, and cultivate, and I am certainly no stranger to these hiccups.

One of the first red flags is simply the desire to want or need something that is not already had. There is no difference between a want or a need, in these circumstances. But, isn't that the whole point of hashtag-manifestation? To bring something new into our lives? Isn't everyday something new into your life? Isn't every breath something new into your life?

Let's say, on an inhale, an intention is set. Let's say that intention is to breathe, to inhale. The exhale releases that intention--or are you now intending to exhale? When an action is thought, and it is done, it is then concluded. To thrive without getting wrapped in the mundane wants and needs, it is to completely release the thought entirely.

That is not to say the wants won't arrive, because, of course they will. But, they will then have the freedom to be treated with the same space as if they were never there in the first place. Dare I say, even appreciated more. Relished, in fact. Breathing is automatic.

At this point the practice becomes recognizing that you do indeed have all you need, want, etc. Perhaps what you think would make you happier is a ruse to sell consumers more products. Perhaps happiness is one thousand times more relative than you have ever been raised to believe. Just a thought.

With every one of these mind-breaking revelations, there will likely be an impulse to deny, discredit, or push away the new awareness. In fact, it is almost guaranteed. One of the mind's biggest roles is to formulate a sense of self, and understanding with the way of the world, and then latch onto it, and make it real. News flash: that world is crumbling, and minds will either go extinct or evolve.

The mind is also excellent at creating loops to trap the new mindset into fresh versions of past cycles. This is another red flag, and something that has infected the "yoga movement" and "new age millennials" of the past decade. The person becomes trapped in a shroud of high-minded righteousness, unaware that they are in a cycle just as any other, it is simply dressed in more refined, intellectual, and spiritual clothing. While it does help to have a singular focus, which the depth of these practices and teachers do offer, the outer layer which skims and trensd does nothing more than to make one feel like they're living a little better than the average other.

There is ultimately no difference between a monk meditating on a hill for thousands of years and a gritty stevedore drinking on the docks every night. We all carry the intent and expression of every man, woman, and child on this planet. The moment we begin to see ourselves as different, or of a higher spiritual or moral ground is when we begin to lose our humanity.

That doesn't mean that action shouldn't be taken--because it should. Perhaps, action void of emotion. Justice should be served when necessary, but only because it is necessary, not because we are overwhelmed with psychosis. And the world that we live in feeds us psychosis on a daily basis. The nightly news may as well be a mutant with supernatural powers that infects our brain with frustration, confusion, and utterly one-sided belief systems (on both sides), painting others as glorified demons.

And our minds are weak. We don’t want to admit it, but they are. We become addicted to the nonsense because we have to belief that somewhere, someone believes in the good of all things. I guarantee you someone does, but there are few on television. This weakness fills in the blanks with our own narrative, hoping that the other stories you've heard aren't true--deep down, you know they are.

And so we forget about those stories, because there's no time for that nonsense, and we continue to blindly follow narratives as if they were imaginary books written two thousand years ago with the proven intent to politically unify the world under one imaginary being, so that only a small group of non-imaginary people might benefit.

Obviously, all of this is subject to re-investigation, as much as can be willed. That is the process. Your body urges to be dug up, disheveled, and placed back together, time and time again. Some of this rambling will be relatable, some not. Some of this will be downright offensive. Good. That isn't the point. The point is that you investigate yourself constantly to re-engage with your cells, and tap into the change that is naturally occurring within you. This is where the seeds are already being planted, unbeknownst to our minds. That seed is your sun, your joy, the very essence that connects you to every other human being on the planet, and every life-form, and the planet itself.

Wake up, and allow yourself to be different. Allow yourself to have a new mind, and let go of everything you ever thought you knew about yourself. Allow yourself to break your own heart, and mourn for your countless past selves. Utterly shed your entire skin--belief systems, religion, politics, work, relationships-that-were, relationships-that-are, anything on the horizon--rise from your bed a pure child, completely free, where everything is new.

Moon, 27 Aquarius - February 15th, 2018

Death is not to be delayed—it is the unfurling of the lotus in moonlight, hidden throughout the day, a magic available only to those who stay up past their bedtime. Our fear of such is unnatural, like a door we’re told never to open. A shaman taught me that our entire lives are lived in preparation for death, the final journey. The symbolic deaths experienced during ceremony would offer glimpses into the other worlds that in our technology-drenched ecosystem we couldn’t even begin to fathom.

In Denis Villeneuve’s brilliant film of extraterrestrial contact, Arrival, the lead character’s tragic confrontation with death hinges on the survival of the human race. The extraterrestrials’ amorphous, time-bending language seems to suggest that death is not the end, not as we know it. 

As eclipses are often times of great beginnings, they also harbor the power to end. Unless you’re offered an appropriate awareness, this power can manifest in ways that feel utterly overwhelming to the core. That could be the point, however—instead of searching for ways to dilute your experience, whether it be through projections, virtual media, or feeling good about paying your taxes, allow the pain of something being wrong with the people on this planet to wash over you, and understand that there is probably no hope for life as we know it. Even from a purely practical, scientific standpoint, it’s not hard to come to this conclusion. And no, cool as it sounds, we will not live on in robots. Do a little research, pull back the curtain, you’ll see the wizard. 

Since the eclipse is in Aquarius—on my birthday, no less—light pondering is in order. Perhaps a seance will summon beings from another world to take us on an archetypal journey to kill God. What would life truly be with the death of one assumed creator, a true devil rampaging senseless destruction across the entire planet? To many, killing God is the death of their entire reality as they know it. But, what if there is more to this reality? What if devoting yourself to God is the truest sin? Reading these words might send some into a fury—silence the thoughts lest they spread further, and further, as sense settles into the brain, the illusion shattering, knowing full well that I am correct.   

In Back to Methuselah, George Bernard Shaw writes of an encounter with Father Addis, who was attempting to convert him to Catholicism. “I grant you a maker of God. I grant you a maker of the maker of God. I grant you a long line of makers as you please; but an infinity of makers is unthinkable and extravagant: it is no harder to believe in number one than in number fifty thousand or fifty million; so why not accept number one and stop there, since no attempt to get behind him will remove your logical difficulty?” Shaw responded, “By your leave, it is as easy for me to believe that the universe made itself as that a maker of the universe made himself: in fact much easier; for the universe visibly exists and makes itself as it goes along, whereas a maker for it is a hypothesis.” After much deliberating, the father revealed that “he should go mad if he lost his belief.”   

"Tests of faith," at the end of the day, are nothing but convenient excuses for what is already known to be true. Now, we’re all entitled to pretend and play with whatever deity we wish, but sit well with the truths of the Father and his rampant misdeeds, and you will see that you are worshipping pure evil.   

The death of self, mind, concept, and ultimately, body, is the opportunity to metamorphose into something completely new. The caterpillar dies in its cocoon, the true phoenix, giving birth to a new being in the form of a butterfly. In this way, the death of religion, and the death of God, is something to be pondered in the formation of a new mode of consciousness. As violence rages, the mass-ordained, led by the bought media, grows confused with the battling of old concepts and narratives meant to perpetuate the drama. We can no longer afford to argue within the “right to believe”—it is time to abandon what no longer serves us, shed the skin, stop making excuses for the ego’s selfish whims to align itself with whatever deity it was raised under, whatever has made you most comfortable over the years, whatever has congealed itself through family, and recognize that since all beliefs are arbitrary, if one belief executes even the slightest harm against another, then that belief must be banished completely, lest you face utter extinction by the forces of Nature herself. The butterfly does not spring out of nowhere—it requires the literal death of its old self to exist. New moons, and solar eclipses, are often presented with the context of “new beginnings,” but the old must be harvested for the new seed to be planted. Death is necessary for birth. The world at large is utterly ignorant of this philosophy, living in complete fear of half of the equation. 

Imperatively, meditate on what must die during this eclipse. I’ve largely answered that question for myself, as made evident by this post. Then, ask yourself, in purest Aquarian fashion, what would a completely new mode of existence look like? What is the purest expression of life? What is your highest desire? Throw out all attempts at finding God, enlightenment, Nirvana, or whatever unattainable state has been teased on the horizon, and ask, what  your ideal current state, now, in complete attunement with the natural world? What if you looked below, and not up? What if the Earth, and its natural state, is all that’s needed? What if the butterfly makes perfect sense?

Moon, 11 Leo - January 31st, 2018

At a time when our culture is maniacally fascinated with heroic motifs, why wouldn’t we grant our dear Luna the mantle of Supermoon, when she graces us with the closest, brightest mirror, reflecting our deepest desires, calling to the surface our greatest trials and fortuitous wishes. She might wonder, in a forlorn voice, “Am I not always super?”   

The moment when the super-est moon reaches its closest distance to the Earth is known as the lunar perigee, and if the moon is indeed a mirror, then this would also be a time when reflections appear larger than normal. Even without being full, this can be a time of electrified intent. Much to my irony’s chagrin, this is certainly a momentous occasion, the eclipse occurring at 5:27 AM PST, and the apogee thirty minutes later at 5:55, when the gong is struck, and the candles lit, a ceremony begins to summon a great, fiery goddess from her earthen slumber. Not only does she breathe fire, but she bends the element to her while at every corner of the sleeping globe.

Shiva, the Hindu deity, is often known as the Destroyer. Kali, an incarnation of his consort, dances atop his dead carcass, if that gives you any idea of the sheer wrath she is capable of dishing out for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, supper, and dessert. We are, according to the Hindus, living in the Kali Yuga, an epoch of time, the "throw of one" in their game of dice, the worst value out of four. This period is supposedly a heightened age of chaos. You tell me.

Our full moon is, of course, in Leo, the beast who commands the creative power of the Sun. The Sun is the primary caretaker and fulfiller of life on our planet, but its power may also burn, even from 93 million miles away. You will read a thousand posts today asking you to channel the moon’s creative flow, but you might also consider the power to light an entire house on fire and watch it burn to the ground. I’m just saying, these eclipses don’t come around that often. Burn a house down when you can. Proverbially--dig?

Kali will act as a violent Supermother, burning all in her path to get to the heart of the truth. There will be nothing left until your beating heart, pulsating, brightly aware of all the pretending you are/were doing. “You” are truly ash in her visage, as she is the one who steps in when Shiva’s slightly less savage ego-burns can’t get the job done. Do you want to create? Oh, do you? Great. Go ahead. Create. Create. From what is left of you.

This moon echoes maternal vibes, nestled in the harvesting scythe of Ceres, both at 11 degrees Leo, god of the seasons and mother of Persephone. I’m usually one to veer on the side of the child goddess, captured by Pluto and taken to the underworld to eat pomegranates, but in this case, the message is clear. Mother, I feel thy wrath. Upon learning her daughter was missing, what was once thriving and green turned dead and desolate. She refused to return life until her daughter was returned, and made a pact with Pluto to trade Persephone every six months, thus establishing the four seasons. Of course, no one asked Persephone what she wanted, but that’s another story.  

Darron Aronofsky’s controversial film, Mother!, depicts a goddess frustrated enough with her world that she is willing to burn it to the ground. It also shows an angry mob eating her child. If that makes you uncomfortable, good. What else are you turning a blind eye to in the world? What would you do if an angry mob was eating your baby? Here, wrath is duly served, a satisfying act that is completely undercut by the film’s resolution, which returns power to the tyrannically omniscient “Him,” who happened to be the main source of her perpetual abuse. 

Lucifer, an angel once known as “God’s" right hand, is a word that means “bearer of light,” and was a name originally given to Venus rising in the eastern sky. Venus’ dance with the Sun—gazing from the Earth—creates a five-pointed star, a pentagram, every six years. Do you see the pattern? Once sacred, feminine symbols became roused in manipulation and twisted to mean something different. Why wouldn’t a devil emerge when the light has been snuffed, trampled upon, raped, abused, dismissed, beaten, bloodied, tormented, for so long? Would you do as much protect your child? Yes, the lioness bears her teeth, and rightly so, for enemies of life proclaim to walk in the light. 

Ceres is retrograding, which may point to a resistance in claiming this maternal empowerment. The pain will only become more real, as a red moon implies. The more you wait to recognize and nurture your inner child, the more you bleed. Yes, males, you too have a duty to protect, feed, shelter, and bear fruit. Recognize where you have done wrong, where you have ignored, where you have continued to pretend. There is only one goddess, and she is right beneath our feet. 

Kali, the true Supermother!, swiftly decapitates all that is unnecessary, including you, as your complicity has allowed the charade to continue. The moon will burn, burn, and burn. Ignite the fire, yourself. Watch it terrorize the illusions that have wrought your imprisoned life, depriving them of all oxygen, a fire so pure that no dust remains. There is no time left for coddling education. We are all suspect to die in her flames—figuratively, right?—and be reborn as the unapologizing, pure, powerful, delighted, enamored, primal, ecstatic, joyous beasts that we were born to be. Create what you will, but know that only the truth will survive. 

No one makes mistakes on purpose; though, a marvelousness often hides in the wisdom of missteps. Most would rather eliminate all wrongdoings, sadness, even sickness, and exist perfectly in “love and light.” We yearn for complete freedom and true happiness. And yet, there is no greater teacher than a healthy offense.

Regardless of our wisdom as a civilization, we still fear the reaper. The medieval world of Game of Thrones is one where glancing oddly could cost you your head. Nothing makes sense, there is no morality, and brutality reigns. The horrors of Westeros are minuscule to our own history, lest we forget.

Compare that to now, where violence is abhorred, self-awareness and wisdom is so prominent that a post-spiritual market has arisen, promising miracles, enlightenment, and splendors of the like, all for the price of committing yourself back into the cycle that you thought you were escaping. So obsessed with the purification of the soul, some have even displaced all responsibility entirely onto a man that was apparently abused, tortured, and murdered enough so we all could continue fucking up a while longer. Thus, the animal self became mute as we sought recompense for wrongdoings and starting seeing primal natures as negative, climbing higher on the ladder of atonement. In our blind progression, we have forgotten what it means to be human.

When we first glimpse our Stark heroes in the Game of Thrones pilot, Ned Stark is tasked with making an execution, by law. He implores that his ten-year old son witness the act, stating, “He won’t be a boy forever,” and later, “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” Later on in the season, Tywin Lannister declares to his son, Jamie, “Your mother’s dead. Before long, I’ll be dead. And you. And your brother, and sister, and all of her children... It’s the family name that lives on. It’s all that lives on. Not your personal glory, not your honor, but family.”

As we prolong death, the more we are implored to fear it. It doesn’t help that the most powerful religions of the world use eternal hellfire as punishment for not joining their ranks. In this case, fear of death and the unknown is unquestionably a tool to manipulate minds toward a cause. Adversely, indigenous cultures have offered unique teachings to psychologically prepare the mind for this ultimate transition. As told to Arya Stark, “…there is only one god, and the girl knows its name.”  

This inattention to the primal self, our lower chakras, has emasculated the warrior within. The universal response to Game of Thrones proves that a part of us longs to be reborn in blood.

When Arya Stark whispers the names of her victims before sleep, she is a champion of justice. Jon Snow, however, silently forgives the boy who unknowingly murdered the woman he loved—though yes, Jon hangs him later for a more vicious crime. And Tyrion Lannister lies somewhere in the middle, a man of supposed wisdom yet who ultimately succumbed to an emotional patricide.

Regressing to full medieval ‘tude would be impractical. There is room, however, for the assassin armed with pens and perspectives, the dominant force who fears no death and knows what must be done. In a way, the writers of Game of Thrones are succeeding by focusing on amoral consequence, responsibility, taking a stand; strong masculine characteristics—which, before you stop me, exist or not irrespective of gender.

An observer might glance at the world and say we are oversaturated with the male, as old white leaders pull imaginary strings and an endless war economy dominates the middle east. To be superiorly male has become a farce, reduced to the dumb jock, racist hick, or heartless tycoon. Combine them all and you get something to the tune of Donald Trump, which the United States is potentially electing as President. There is no greater evidence for the ill misdirection of our culture than this vast misinterpretation of strength.

Where are the true protectors of the realm? We are dire need of the archetype to be revitalized; the world is run by cowards and manipulators who have no sense of the common good. In the medieval landscape, the corrupt would be dealt with immediately. As of now, we are rightfully moving away from aggression in an attempt to foster peace. We have become more intelligent. Though, we have also become passive in our convictions, losing the courage to stand up for ourselves when offenders take hold.

Every House in Game of Thrones is somewhat aggrandized by their own dreams and visions, and those who seek to justly unite the world—like the favorite, Jon Snow—get themselves in deep shit by standing up to the face of tradition. He campaigns against mindless civil wars in an effort to combat a greater threat. Breaking it down even further, he is displacing an old mindset that no longer serves the world. Indeed, true heroes sacrifice being a part of the world in order for the world to grow.

Game of Thrones is unpredictable, thereby extremely entertaining. As in life, the characters make choices and are immediately forced to deal with them. There is no one to blame for any mistake but the innocence of choice, and you cannot blame innocence. The absence of blame, however, does not absolve one from responsibility and consequence. Quite the contrary—you are plunged into consequence immediately after you have made your choice. You must take responsibility now, because it is the reality you live in. I’d hope that if we elected Donald Trump, we would collectively take responsibility for the monstrosity we created, rather than displace all our hatred, anger, and frustration onto a person we do not know.

While some might fear a jadedness toward the brutality of shows such as Game of Thrones, I propose we are jaded toward inaction, passive aggression, and disillusionment. The show works wonders to deconstruct misguided programming and revitalize the primal, animal integrity we have so carelessly left behind in search of a pseudo-higher path.

I wish I knew the beauty of leaves falling. To whom are we beautiful, as we go?

David Ignatow

Give up on trying to understand the backwards-moving planets—it’s not worth the brain power. Seriously, you can barely decide how to comment on your friend’s egregiously offensive Facebook post, so why bother attempting to grasp vast complexities of cosmic order?

Something about Mercury’s retreat brings the words out of me. It is one of astrology’s most talked about phenomena, and the thrice yearly occurrence tends to see a lot of Muggles pointing at the sky to blame said planet for their printer’s sudden paper jam. That luminaries directly change our day-to-day is no farce—the Moon affects tides, moods, and cycles, and the Sun does this thing with life—it’s certainly possible that we are affected by celestial bodies in ways we cannot see. Bigger pills have been swallowed; in certain quantum schools, you don’t exist.

Maybe Mercury’s energy did screw up your printer—but, why? Maybe that printer was tired of taking your incessant abuse. Maybe the printer wanted you to be kinder and you ignored it. Maybe the printer wanted you to take it out once and while. What does such neglect call to attention?

Last week, The Atlantic published a think piece, “The Case Against Reality,” profiling Donald D. Hoffman, a professor of cognitive science. He lays down the brass tax of, you know, reality being something different than what it looks like. Our jumbled mess of conscious projections simply bump into one another, forming judgements, distinctions, based on what we’ve been taught and what we believe to be true. Beliefs are arbitrary, constantly changing dependent on the personalized brain. Religious beliefs are an adamant example of this—the most grounded, salt-of-the-earth kinda guy might still has something that they choose to have faith in, something beyond their grasp, because they were told a certain story, and that story has since served as a lens through which they’ve interpreted all events in their life. There is no fault in differing beliefs (except when you make it that way).

I’ve seen miracles and phenomena that would make even the tiniest skeptic come out and shake their heads. I could ask the healers, “How?” and “Why?” and still they can only give me their perspective. The truth of what might be happening—the science behind the miracle—is beyond ours to presently grasp, and, in my opinion, none of our goddamn business.

Mercury, the mind, governs this attempt at revelation. We yearn for purpose, meaning, reason, when there is none but to create. Mercury, the “trickster,” and has dramatically changed masks throughout many cultures’ mythologies. In Nortic traditions, the Winged Messenger is Odin, the one-eyed overseer of the Heavens. In the Greek myths, he is a courier zipping in and out of others’ stories. In Egypt, he is an ascended teacher and scribe. Mercury shifts and changes as the mind itself grows and evolves, as we do.

Retrograde periods are times for devout reflection, returning inward to let go of preconceptions of what might be real, or not, allowing your beliefs, and thus, your life, to change.

In 2016, we are officially three years and change past the Mayan shift that promised to do a bunch of things that no one would see coming or understand or comprehend. Indeed, it appears that the cosmic conversation and struggle to survive in a spiritual world has only continued under new forms, shapes, apparitions, and divine transmissions.

Spiritual leaders often follow a script, yet tease that the answer is always up for interpretation. Of course, it behooves the convenience of the master to relinquish responsibility to forces unknown or incomprehensible. What is there to contest if we can’t logically understand it? Have faith, right?

I’d rather know. Such is the bane of an Aquarius.

Astrology is two parts science, one part art, a science possibly yet not understood or quantifiable by modern means, but one day likely will be. True science understands that all mystical forces can be explained by math—the most logical answer currently imaginable.

Alongside the X-Files’ new season premiere, the CIA has released documents of their own investigations into the paranormal. The balance between enigmatic hopeful Mulder and challenging skeptical Scully is the pendulum swinging in our own discovery. We cannot progress without challenging boundaries constantly reminding us of the world at stake, and we cannot take root and flourish without the unknown tugging at us from behind the curtain.

The recent dance between Pluto and Uranus is a repetition of themes enlightened in the sixties, as we’ve seen this call to revolution and reality’s crumbling, yet reflected much more violently and ridiculously. Revolution is no longer a new and sudden concept, as we have troves of history warning us that the breaking down of one structure only results in the raising of another. Revolution is, after all, the going around in a circle.

Astrology and other weird hippie shit is hard to digest. There’s little evidence to behold. But there’s a reason why “I Want to Believe” became a meme before memes were even a thing. There’s something off in the common interpretation of reality, and we want answers. Like, now.

Belief is actually somewhat of a hindrance—it implies a blind understanding, or knowledge taken for granted. When people ask me, “Do you believe in astrology?” I wonder if mathematicians are ever asked if they believe in rulers.

I have sought to acquire all of my knowledge through experience alone, and my understanding of this world is dependent on those sole experiences. Belief systems fluctuate based on your current mood—why put stake in something that changes on a daily basis?

Reality is difficult to change. It comes down to what the we want. There could be an alien greeting the world from the White House and still there will be those who deny it, simply because they don’t want it to be true. The mindset that is unwilling to be malleable is what halts development.

There has been an untold number of confessions and government evidence supporting extraterrestrial life over half a century, yet we still ask people if they believe in aliens. Really, who cares? Let’s work with what’s in front of us, what makes us feel good, and what we can control.

CAUTION: THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS SPOILERS RELATED TO THE HISTORY AND FUTURE OF REALITY AS WE SEE IT. PLEASE PROCEED ONLY IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW EVERYTHING EVER. THANK YOU AND HAVE A NICE DAY.

The barely ripened child-like star, Humanity, has a knack for the limelight. More ratings means more drama, however, and we find ourselves arguing over purple ice cream and capturing various flags, for the sake of more followers, friends, and viewership. Humans clamor for attention, proclaiming new truths and defiling old ones, consuming more than what’s given, and really being sure that this time--really--we’re right about “God,” and stuff.

Astrologically, our show shifts seasons every two thousand years, give or take a few centuries, as the Earthly axis shifts the Sun’s perceivable path backwards through the Zodiac, changing the sign that deems an Age. For that entire period, the featured sign is master of all houses, being the general arc or through-line of a multi-millennial narrative, informing collective growth, religion, and development.

For example, we were once in the Age of Taurus, the cow, or bull. Goddess worship reigned, as did agriculture, abundance of resources, and construction of the most fantastic monuments: the Sphinx, pyramids, obelisks. Under the influence of Taurus, kings would be buried in tombs of gold, surrounded by the prettiest of things, protected by powerful, ominous curses. In the shadows, mystery schools developed studying death, rebirth, and transformation, facets of Taurus’ infamous opposite, Scorpio.

Transitioning into the Age of Aries, the most independent of fire signs, the conception of Hinduism—the Vedic era—and Zoroastrianism both induced a healthy reference toward the passionate element. Agni was a warrior king in Vedic myths, and his fire rituals dominated traditions. Zoroastrians have kept sacred flames alight for thousands of years--Ahura Mazda, the Zoroastrian Creator, directly translates to light wisdom. A single prophet popularly led his people out of Egypt by pillars of flame. Thus came a powerful era of the “One God,” warlike and uncompromising, domineering a set of rules—painfully representative of Aries’ opposite, Libra —declaring there was no other than Him, then terrifying non-obeyers with the bad kind of fire.

Exodus 3:14: “God said to Moses, ‘I AM THAT I AM’; and he said, ‘thus you shall say to the sons of Israel, ‘I AM’ has sent me to you.”

We get it, Aries. You’re super important. The Israelites were even smote when caught worshipping a golden calf—an act of regression towards the previous season, Taurus.

The most commonly digested of our recorded time on the air, the Age of Pisces, began at the mythic birth of one savior led to sacrifice himself for the moral wrongdoings of all people-kind. Each shift seemed to be heralded by a hero, or champion of the newer order, set to dismantle and restructure the old ways—you know, for shits and giggles. I’d imagine that two thousand years of one vibe can grow somewhat stale for an audience.

Christianity made waves as a religion that taught compassion and a removal from the ruthless and violent God of the Old Testament. Now, all sins were forgiven, and there was no need to kill, only to love. That realization came through sacrifice, an important bond Pisceans make with the world. Violent control was relinquished in favor of accepting the wound of non-identity, sparking the potential for profound, idealistic artistry.

The proverbial bleeding of Christ fed the passion of the renaissance, enchanting gothic cathedrals, and certain escape through poetry, music, dance, and the recreational numbing of the senses. The mirror turned upon itself, and stars of entertainment and the arts became the sought-after gods and goddesses of our modern mythology.

Hinduism experienced similar shape changes. The earlier chunks of our Common Era saw a rise in devotion to Krishna, a man/deity hybrid of ancient texts who embodied the Supreme God Vishnu, not too dissimilar to one Christ. He is even depicted in blue, the color of a pristine ocean—the vast, infinite potential of our imaginative universe, and highest of Piscean ideals. One might argue that through relentless devotion, chanting, and prayer, worshippers were able to unshackle the bonds and karmic ties that the sign implies, and commit themselves to the freedom of samadhi, or singular divine consciousness.

Presently, we are experiencing both the finale of Pisces and the premiere of the Age of Aquarius—yes, previews have been going on for a while, and some may have gotten their hands on a few episodes, but these lines tend to blur. Our audience is quantum, after all.

Welcome to the astrological equivalent of Tomorrowland, the age of innovation, wisdom, tech, and interconnectivity. Science and philosophy is its own most astounding religion; our priests, Bill Nye, Neil Degrasse Tyson, and Doc Brown. Join me as I constantly ponder whether or not robots have souls.

While it’s painful to admit, the lot of us sleep next to our phones—the global gateway to utter connectivity. We live alongside blogs, books, grams, and pics, unearthing a new language of memes, Richard Dawkins’ take on hive-mind hieroglyphics. The culture shifts and continues to open previously closed doors regarding civil and religious freedom, sexuality, and energy, although each facet seems to be accompanied by violent attachments. Small percentages might obsess over the way things “were,” enough to send our growth into a tailspin of confusion and chaos as the new molecules beg to evolve.

The likely scenario implies a melding of mythologies and needs. Like the LEGO worlds once built, the new set is informed—consciously or not—by the last, with overlapping ideas and characters linking all worlds and timelines together.

Aquarius begets “I Know”; creativity, tech, and ascension through mastery of the mind. The search for enlightenment will end, because everyone will realize they’re already enlightened (it’s the damnedest thing). “Light workers” now channel fields of energy that can be measured by science, and we shift from priests to healers. What you roll your eyes at today may become the truth of tomorrow. Also, duh, extraterrestrials.

Showrunners are hired, seasons shift, showrunners are re-hired, shows are cancelled, shows are picked up by Yahoo, and so on. In the end, there’s no one to complain to, because by that point we’ve all moved on. Eventually the Sun will explode and credits will roll—even then, who’s to say a new Sun won’t be birthed in its place... somewhere?

September 3rd, 2014

// of Assistants

Under the Virgoan tone, I’ve come to note the importance of a friend by your side, managing your books and keeping numbers in order, no stone unturned. Granted, there are many stones atop the Earth, and “the virgin” is undaunted to face any appointed task, not yet tainted by the sting of experience and the depression that comes with growing up and facing the world. 

Why not, in the sign that precedes partnership, we are given the fullest extension of self through another without “the other?” Or, you yourself are providing service toward efforts that don’t immediately return gain, as it might seem on the surface. 

When couples separate or undergo divorce after decades of togetherness, it’s been told that one or the other feels as if a part of their brain has been removed. That other has been by their side, and they fall into place with each other, automatically filling voids and repairing weaknesses, for better or for worse, to act as a unit, ideally. If I hire an assistant, I’m asking that person to operate as a part of my brain, therefore freeing up room for me to explore various realms of psychedelia, conquer world governments, and create worlds of story that may not otherwise leave the crevices of the mind. A formal partner might hold too many rightfully unwarranted opinions. 

Yet, whom is providing the greater service? Aggrandizement aside, it’s those unselfish efforts that provide truer rewards, and that’s difficult to mirror in someone bent on world domination. 

// of Assistance

Today, the Sun in Virgo aspects Pluto in Capricorn, heightening any earthly  service or endeavors we humans caught in the wheel of fortune seek to engage. Virgo is a misunderstood archetype, because, I guess, no one wants to work? Or perhaps, it’s the menial shit we fear that could clog our free time. Leave that to the robots. 

Eventually, we’ll build some great robot army to mine gold from deep under the layers of the planet. Skin will no longer be judged by color but by substance and texture. And, what if these robots attain higher consciousness? Will they then invent lesser robots to do their bidding? When does the chain of slavery end? 

There’s always work to be done, and ask yourself what trivial delights you might relish on your way to that beloved higher calling. Everything is Shiva, even the black latex fence paint.

// of Assist Ants 

Lo, behold the white ant! Much can be learned from the greatest soldiers on the planet, as the operate under devout singularity. There is no straying from each individual task, as there is no need to be anything other than its function of service.

The greatest meditators, the ant is in constant unison with its reality, connected with surroundings though receiving instinctive messages on how to create, spread, and function with the greatest return for the hive. There is no mourning for death, because the white ant understands its place within the cycle of life.

As proclaimed “thinkers,” albeit adolescent, humans seek to unveil the curtain and do any number of what not to do, to the point of self-destruction. Why? To unmask the players? When the jig is up, then what? Often the seeker returns to his or her point of origin, and takes up once more the mantle of menials, because the only point of function is to function itself, and what better way to function than to live in the way that best describes you, therein bringing you dumb joy, separate from the game within the game that we have so crudely dubbed, “society.”

// of Ass is Dance

What better way to express the joys of stupidity than shaking what your mother gave you? Entirely specific forms of study have erupted from the basic desire to move, and posture, and fill that chemical form of ours with adrenaline and serotonin, perhaps gain the attention of another and proceed to unite immune systems to create yet another human with greater resilience to the ever-evolving bacteria consistently murdering us all. 

Yet again, we return to specific functions and particularly evolved form, attentive to details only the virgin could see. To the chaste, that ass is a sacred temple yet undiscovered. When Indiana Jones has visited his umpteenth ancient ruin, a certain grandeur is lost from the first. Perhaps he is a master archeologist, able to navigate and traverse puzzles and traps with ease, but he’ll never forget that first time, when he toppled through mostly on blind luck and somehow survived. Only a fool’s errand separated him from those scattered as bones in the spiky pits below him. 

Keep at it, don’t be afraid to look like an idiot or die trying, and you might become a better dancer. 

// of Asses-Tense

As signature movement grows as a form of expression, so we communicate and dance upon the page, language moving, flowing, poetry becoming a thing, and we again create, out of practice. And, astrologers argue Mercury’s relevance as the ruler of Virgo. 

In time, the great reluctance of effort will fold in on itself and the mountains will have no choice to erupt, perhaps then we will be gods ourselves and have the interest and ability to create new types of asses with which to stay fascinated. Upon realization that we, in fact, created ourselves, how appreciative we will be on the utter perfection of the braying ass. 

// of St. Francis of Assisi’s Taints

In what dimension do we place ourselves, when speaking of the past? There are as many histories as there are historians, and as we envision the future from the present, we change the past.

The great namesake of our current Pope had the loveliest Venus in late Virgo, no doubt giving him the enormous need to keep his genitals neat and trim, including the area between his balls and anus. Perhaps he hired an assistant to make sure he remained the cleanest for his services to God. Because God loves a fresh taint. Those who might dispute that claim, I only ask, why wouldn't He?

Here is my St. Francis, the renowned receiver of stigmata, who no doubt felt the blood flow through and up his spine, achieving the orgasm of the sight of God through his service to the planet. Legend has it that he spoke to birds long before any Disney princess, and even convinced a wolf to stop eating people. These are all cool superpowers, but none compare to his dedication to poverty and the cleansing of material needs, walking the earth alongside her, as a friend. 

June 21st, 2014

Happy Summer. Go splash some water on your face. Due to my last post having quite little to due with cosmic events, and keeping up with my general theme of aloof inconsistencies, this post is going to get its astrology on. As the Sun entered Cancer around 7am this morning, great hallelujahs were heard all across winter-torn lands that had scarcely remembered what a cool breeze might feel like, or the smell of freshly mown grass, or the allergic reaction you get with your sunblock spray.  All around, forecasts for the next ninety degrees of season continue the creative bursts and trends that were jostled around at the eve of Spring and cardinal eclipses. Mars is now fully functional—flaccidly retrograde for most of our recent memory—but may still have to work around relational arguments and bursts of unfairness in Libra, the sign of its detriment. 

The cosmic twins embrace a fundamental duality with the creation of art. One needs to recognize beauty in its purest form (Venus) but also have the ability to transmit feelings, emotions, and images into structure, form, or language (Mercury), and when they’re unified, all of heaven sings. 

June 7th, 2014

April 15th, 2014

The vial of blood lay before me—one step remains before the revival of the Dark Lord, the Goblin King, Sauron, George Lucas, Red Skull, and Tom—or Jerry; never was sure who the “bad guy” was in that situation. We tend to cower in fear at the mythic overtakings of those who creep in the dark, because we’re supposed to be scared of what goes bump in the night. But in India, Lord Shiva is known as the Great Destroyer, and  he is succeeded by the greater wrath of the goddess Kali, wearing her victim’s skulls around her neck and stomping upon Shiva like a rag doll. Simply, her antics make Grand Theft Auto look like a kindergarden finger-painting class. Not only do these gods represent death, destruction, darkness, and the shadows, but the process of change, transformation, and purge. They are worshipped and respected—some devote their entire lives to Kali, or She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And they do not resemble the Death Eaters of Potter-lore, but blissful, ecstatic, chaste devotees of God.  The full moon transits through Libra, across a retrograding Mars, creating a total lunar eclipse to the effect of turning the moon “blood red.” So, if you wanted to hypothetically revive any dark lords, now would be a good time.  Tensions will rise—the cardinal energy of the moon is heightened by the grand cross strengthening in Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn. I have since doubled my circuit training, personal workouts and yoga classes in an effort to bleed myself to exhaustion, because, something will burn, and it might as well be the calories.

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

William Shakespeare

The milky mirror reflects an immaterial substance only known to those who seek with eyes closed, blind to facade that displaces reality with illusion. As we return to the core of mythic substance, our three unlikely heroes continue on their journey of self-fulfillment, governing the flow and fancy of abled players.  Aeons have past since their stories have been fumbled into coherency. Two of the three have recently emerged from the bellows of meditation, and now they await an initiation into higher grounds of thought. For the mercurial, this takes no effort. Our beloved Morningstar, however, is amassed by the intrinsic excitement of the new, innovative, and revolutionary.  “Do you see what I see?” “What?” the Messenger answers, hovering in lotus a good three feet above her. She has clasped a group of daffodils in her palms, and poured her face into its petals.  “The fractals.” “I cannot, seeing as you are so consumed.” She gasps in defiance, looking up at him, her sundress flowing in the elegant breeze of the summery hilltop. “You know what I meant,” she responded. “Where is your eagerness to appreciate my beauty? Do you not feel as you once did?” “You may have had the time to emerge from your shadow, but I have not, dear sister. Allow me the briefest repose of reflection while I return to earth.” And, in stating so, he does. At the same time, a great horn of celebration blows in the distance, and birds flutter about at the foot of an old forest.  “He’s at it, again,” the Morningstar states.  “Yes, it seems more than one of us is overjoyed at the coming of this Spring. The Young King seems confident that he has the army necessary to withstand the tension brought upon by the Old Ones. Blessings untold he may bring, but he must be careful to make no sudden missteps, as arrogance can take the better of him.” “We have not spoken in some time, you and I.”  “No, we haven’t.” Another horn sounds, and cheering is heard in the distance. Although a frigid chill still stirs from the wintry interlude that plagued an utter silence among the Personalities, opportunity brews, felt by all life as the growth and awareness of the seeds planted in the fog. The great cycle, returned at the last, brings forth the new. “And what of our brother?” Mercury thought of the last conversation he had with Mars, some time ago, long before he embarked on an intensified training to prepare himself for war.  “He has a difficult task. More than one event will strike at the bonds between our Grandfathers as we seek to displace the old world. This will likely cause a rift, or two. And who can say of the other worlds, where our own resonance pales in comparison? This will be the time for slipping into the shadows and staying off the front lines. Our brother will distract who he can, while we slip into the heart of the matter. From there, you will carry out your own task.” He sighed, and looked hopeful, for once. “I cannot help but be curious.” “You? But you know everything.” “I used to. But as time perceivably passes, I am becoming more aware of the fact that I do not. There is something else afoot, something indecipherable, and all we can do is continue to carry out our task.” “Are we—what’s going to happen?” Mercury looked into her eyes, and she felt warmth and compassion come from who she had always known as her brother. She saw him, and then didn’t, and then did again, but in a different way. His eyes had grown deeper, as if a veil had been lifted—one that she never knew was there. She understood, if only a little, that after their mission, nothing would be the same.  for the learn’d astrologer: Full Moon in 26 degrees Virgo Trust in your power to communication. Mercury and Venus have both recently stationed direct and they are free-wheeling it in Aquarius, living life to the fullest. An air sign, Aquarius channels the coherent, electromagnetic frequencies that combine all of existence, so if you want to use your magic flute to warp to the end of the level, you can totally do that—if only you could remember the song. Insight will strengthen with Mercury, Venus, and Mars all in air signs. Trust in the signs that come to you and be empowered by what kind of feels right. The mind will be sharp, though so will it’s ability to distract and defuse. Setting time aside for yourself is the best option before making a large-scale decision.  Jupiter has been direct for almost two weeks, and we can already feel the good fortune returning alongside the Spring Equinox. It be best not to get ahead of ourselves, however, and ride the blessings like a wave with no set outcome. The only thing that can direct a wave is the ocean—and maybe the Moon, which is entirely full today—so you might as well let the ocean direct, and trust that you’ll only end up in a good place. Well, as long as you want to. Mars is, of course, retrograding, and causing quite a bit of stir in the astrological communities as it moves to create a hard Grand Cross with Pluto, Uranus, and Jupiter at the end of April. Yeah, it’s best not to think about it. Batten down the hatches, to say the least. Maybe move to the beach. You’ll want to be off the radar at this time, as most responses from others are going to be activated, intense, and aggressive. Blend in like a pirate assassin in the bustling utopia of 18th Century Nassau, and you’ll do just fine.  Transformation is in full effect. If there are parts of your life that are asking to be changed, then do it. Work on yourself through the struggles, and weirdness, and confusion. There’s a silver lining here, but we’re not supposed to talk about that, really. You know what’s up. So, trust that, and move forward with clear intentions of what you want. If you don’t know, then ask yourself. Then give yourself the space to let the seed grow, and change. I guarantee you’ll be serendipitously surprised.

February 26th, 2014

Nostalgia is fickle. Miyazaki, possibly the most beloved animator of our generation, is retiring after his unusually realistic project detailing some of the darker moments of WWII-era Japan. His wind is passing, and another readies its arrival.

Friday morning, Mercury stations direct after a tiresome, challenging, and patient retrograde. My last post chided the relevance of such a time, considering how often retrogrades happen and how quick we are to blame our personal inconsistencies on the planets.

I’d liken this week’s offering to those moments in war when soldiers from both sides sit in their bunkers—saying nothing in particular, maybe playing cards or telling stories in that poignant way that attempts to quiet a room, saving the unsaid truths to remain just so. A heavy silence pervades, and the soldiers don’t tighten, but breathe and pray to their gods, because something is about to happen. Well, that’s how it is in the movies. 

We’re looking toward one of those show-stopping moments in April, when cardinal eclipse madness begs for an enormous amount of exaggerated destruction and discord. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

This weekend, the moon marks both the final burial of old cycles and the fostering, cleansing rehabilitation of the maddening self-reconstruction that potentially took place during the past few months. If your world has felt cloudy, and weird, and unwarranted, it’s ok—everyone’s has. Secretly, this has all been an effort to make space for the future changes and blessings that want to be a part of your life. Dying petals must be clipped off for flowering new buds to flourish. The catch? You have to do the cutting.

Mars stations retrograde the day of the new moon, one day after Mercury’s station direct. Thus, the last cycle out of this weird 2014 trifecta—Venus in December/January, Mercury in February—begins now. Apart from allowing what wants to happen, traditional seed planting seems arbitrary. There has never been a better time to stick with the shadows and do your primary work either alone or with a select few.  

The world is going to “happen” in April and we will likely see dredges of political upheaval continue to escalate as they have been. At the time of this writing, Ukraine and Venezuela are the primary suspects of such structural catastrophe. The sky is so volatile that there’s no telling to what extent the tension will manifest.

In America, we have this fixation on being holed up and safe—like in Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, we sit behind screens with buds in our ears, tuning us out of connection and allowing narratives to placate themselves as totally legit.

Unlike prophecies in such highly creative and ominous fictions, however, the transformation of the first world will probably be much less dramatic. Regardless of how ridiculously deconstructive apocalyptic conspiracy theories lead themselves to be, it is because of this world’s constant opposition to itself that even allows them to exist. Argue with me if you want, but I live in New York.

We’re all human, and more people want to be holding hands than not—and that’s an important facet to remember as digressions escalate around us and the media extrapolates stories into elaborated oblivion. And we’ll be watching from ivory towers.

Instead of feigning ignorance in the modern world, surrounded by exceedingly fast technological changes and governmental overthrows and fellow mans murdering each other and stuff, why not face the responsibility that you have, individually, as a person, to be a person? We need to be working together on this one.

Rather than praying for the generalized peace and serenity of all beings during times of strife, help someone in your own backyard. Stop thinking that meditation alone will solve anything.

If we’re truly the “chosen one” generation, then we’ve yet to decide whether that means Harry Potter in the good way, Darth Vader in the bad way, or an alternate universe where Anakin Skywalker is actually the shit and doesn’t become a whiny emotional asshole.

February 6th, 2014

You heard me. I know what my last post was about. And I know what this post is about. But this doesn’t change anything.

We all know the drill. Every so often, you have a conversation with a friend, and they start talking about how their train was delayed for an hour. “Well, you know, Mercury’s in retrograde, so blah blah and dippity doo dah and hocus pocus and ring around the rosy!!” You might respond, “Oh cool, that means nothing to me and you’re insane.”

Retrograding Mercury is one of the most widely known astrological concepts in pop culture, right up there with cusps—a bullshit attempt to seem more interesting—and Saturn Returns—which completely suck, because we’re kind of idiots regarding knowing who we are and stuff.

Traditionally, Mercury retrograde warns against starting new projects, signing contracts, and communicative mishaps. The problem with that, and life, is that Mercury retrogrades for three and a half weeks, three times a year. Counting the shadow periods these cautionary phases last roughly half of our entire existence.

Not rare. That’s almost as common as encountering a will Zubat on Mt. Moon. It’s going to happen, it’s going to be annoying and confuse you with Supersonic, and you might as well accept it.

I’ve looked at these periods through various lenses. There’s always the natural course of avoiding what must be avoided, carefully tiptoeing around a minefield of... I guess, bad things. Because, Mercury retrograde is “bad,” right? Perhaps it’s healthier to look at these periods as part of the natural course of life, just as death, suffering, and un-responded-to text messages might be. You know, unavoidable. 

Say you want to close on a house during a Mercury retrograde period—i.e., sign paperwork. Any astrologer worth their salt would say, “Don’t do that, you fucking moron,” just as the meteorologist will tell you to stay out of the ocean during a hurricane. The house might secretly have termites, or your planned marriage will fall through, or you’ll find yourself unable to make payments. You might simply not enjoy it as much as you thought. There would likely be some sort of perceptive or communicative hindrance.

But, that doesn’t solve the issue. Mercury, ever the trickster, isn’t just poking you with his pitchfork for shits and giggles—well, actually, he is—he’s drawing attention to some part of your life that you’re decidedly ignoring. And that’s what retrogrades are about; rather than avoiding, incorporating.

Mercury is the first planet from the Sun, maybe the most personal of the natural spheres. The teachings that come up during this period are utterly subjective. Therefore, it’s impossible to draw conclusions about what it might mean to the restaurant when the computers break down. The bear will react differently than a hawk to a fallen tree. The subtle differences in experience make up the intricacies of our individual respective reflections. We're all beautiful snowflakes.

Instead of telling my client, “Just wait a few weeks to buy the house,” I might ask, “What’s making you want to buy the house?” Maybe it becomes clear that they’re unsettled in their marriage and feel that making a big move will charge up the relationship. If that’s the case, then it doesn’t matter when the house is bought—that conflict will still be there. 

Mercury, the master of the mind, trumps these hidden truths that we so skillfully manipulate ourselves out of admitting—or so we think. Annoyances and hiccups occur during Mercury retrograde to draw our attention toward these issues that we feign resolved.

Duh, technology breaks down. That’s a no-brainer. We spend way too much time distracting ourselves with toys and electronics when there is a living, breathing human that wants to process emotions, face themselves, de-stress, and for Christ’s sake, heal. Louis C.K. couldn’t illustrate this point more clearly.

When an annoyance, miscommunication, or contract appears, simply take a few moments to stop everything, focus your attention inward, and go over your intention. What are you attempting to accomplish? Is your wish fueled by the mind or ego? Asking the question is enough; you don’t need an answer.

Last week, Venus stationed direct, drawing the curtain on an elaborately dramatic retrograde period in Capricorn. She’ll rise in the east with the Sun for most of the year, igniting our days with fiery passion and valued warmth.

Mars will retrograde March 1st, one day following Mercury’s station direct. This will likely be an extremely challenging period for those stuck in reoccurring cycles—Mars’ engaged heat will be turned up a notch all the more to get you out of the funk. Ultimately, these periods are here to help you, and Mars is especially outwardly aggressive to the ego and its tendencies. This is your warning notice.

My best advice for these retrograde periods occurring now until May is honestly to stop thinking about it. Attention is being drawn inward. Go with the flow. Seriously, just give up. Pick your battles—or, more wisely, take solace in the shadows and act the puppeteer. Accept the loss. Take a moment to check your order, retrace your steps, and above all else, breathe. Everything is going to be ok. Self-reflection is only as rough as you want it to be. 

In case you’re wondering, yes, we still have quite a bit of retrograding left for the month. Venus is presently approaching an aspect to both Pluto and Jupiter, the latter of which is also moving perceivably backward. The two most benefic planets are retrograding, perhaps translating to feelings of bleakness and all around despair with your environment.

This may exclude the practitioner who gives his perceptions an inward spiral—quite literally the intention of retrograde periods—and allows his or herself a sacred, meditative processing. 

Listening is never more important during these times. There are often slight nods and hints as to what direction you’re meant to take. People usually mistake warning signs as challenges, and end up getting hurt in the process. You know, if you’ve just set off from Pallett Town, you can’t expect to take on the Elite Four right away.

Growth is an important awareness to integrate—we are always learning, taking on new imprints, and expanding our consciousness, recycling cells, etc. Listening to the inner guides allow us to be evenly matched and progress naturally through the story.

Additionally, the White Witch has many spies hidden in the woods, and even some of the trees are on her side. We like to stride about this narrow world like colossi, but sometimes it’s better to remain silent in the shadows. The Universe loves to prove you wrong. At all times possible, keep it to yourself. Thought is more powerful than words.

It might appear to be “rough” right now, and we’re headed into perhaps the hardest part of retrograde periods—the end. The finish line is just over the horizon, but we’re not there yet. I feel like being in a relationship during Venus retrograde must be like being in a relationship at Burning Man. If you’re connected to each other, it will show in spades. If you’re so much in your own little world that even the planets aren’t affecting you, that’s when you know he or she’s a keeper. Otherwise, you’ll both have some karmic tide to wade through to make it out together on the other side.

For once, I’m going to be optimistic. Venus is retrograding in Capricorn (about to hit Pluto, so yeah, it’s going to get destructive here near the end) a sign of structures and manifestation. Adapt the mantra of “build it, and they will come,” with regard to your self. In a relationship, the sanctuary of your body must be pure to house the essence of another person. You are “sharing space.” When you invite someone over, you’d prefer your house to be immaculate, right? Your karmic house should be treated no differently.

Purifying is simple in three easy steps, yours if you call now and get 50% off your first purchase, with a backup purifier just in case. That’s two for the price of one. Seriously folks, that’s a steal.