Welcome autumn, star babes—can't you feel it? The riotous and playful energy of summer shifting into something steadier, sharper, more incisive? Whatever suffering you've endured this year, whatever you pushed down into yourself so that you might float on August's cool lakes, it's coming up, and it means to be reckoned with.
It's Libra season in more ways than one and Libras aren't the only ones who stand to learn something from it. Along with the Sun, get ready for Mercury, Venus, and Mars making their way into the house of relationships: domestic and career partnerships, our romantic endeavors, our business deals and our contracts (spiritual and material). With the Sun and Mercury and furthermore Mars pushing us forward to figure out what we want, versus what we agree to, many of us will have to sit with the knowledge that what we reap is what we sow.
When we compromise our highest good, when we refuse to learn from our mistakes, when we create false narratives out of fear, we compromise the very things we are fighting to protect in our lives. If this deeply harshes your mellow, well... good. Because the world is far from mellow in any sense of the world. Still, when the old ways have begun to fail us, new ways will come. Just look at the Royal Caribbean cruise ship that turned into a rescue mission when our own government forgot who its citizens are.
Have faith that when Venus enters Libra, it will bring relief and it will bring understanding. Venus in Libra is compassionate, gentle, and even-handed. Where you have suffered, she will spread a balm, where there's been destruction there will be birth. Also, autumn is the season of apples, and apples have a lot to teach us about adaptation, just look at how they flourish in a pie, a sauce, a mound of peanut butter. Look at what apples have taught us about gravity, how everything falls eventually but inside each death, there's a sweetness and a seed.
It’s time to start again, isn’t Aries? The turn of the wheel, you’ve felt it moving slowly full circle. Perhaps this season’s turn has got you on top in more ways than one. The work you’ve done to make your dreams a reality has started to pay off, and it’s no surprise. Anyone who knows you can see that you’re finally reaping the harvest of what you’ve sown. For some Aries, this means a change of career, a stronger and clearer sense of self, an optimism about your future that you haven’t felt in years (despite all the drama of the world). I hope you feel it, courage knocking on the door of your heart and asking you to come out and take on the world.
I hope you feel that courage, but I know that for you to feel it fully, you’ve got to feel a lot of other things too. Things you might be afraid to feel, things that come up when one cycle ends and another begins: regret for the times when you could have been stronger, more impeccable with your word, for what you could have done differently. Still, if you’re not careful, you might mistake the wheel that is your life for a permanent position, and that would be a mistake. The hoop is always turning, Aries. And, despite how easy it can be to blame others for when it turns downward, the only true constant in your circle is you and you’re the only one who knows what you need to change inside yourself so that when the good comes—you feel it wholeheartedly.
You didn’t know your heart could get this wide but you had a feeling, didn’t you Taurus? Why else would you have spent all these years building the house of love if not to give your heart a home big enough to call shelter? And, didn’t you summon your family, blood, and otherwise to the hearth you filled with firewood? You built something beautiful, and it was not in your own name. I know you struggle with a name for god but, trust, a higher power called you to this work.
Pallas Athene was your first visitor, and the asteroid has been with you since June and is staying into November. This guest, who doesn’t really care whether you think she’s overstaying, has sharpened your intuition, deepened your connections, and pushed you to figure out who and what brings you joy. She’s encouraged you to clean that house you built and to reserve your invitations for relationships that nourish you and that you can nourish without reservation. It might feel like you’ve been closing a lot of doors, but that’s not true. You’ve been clearing a path, soft bull, and can’t you hear the pounding of the earth against that path? Right toward you, good things come.
Just because you’ve got some answers doesn’t mean you’ve got them all, Gemini. Despite what some cynics might have you believe, people change all the time—even if you see them making the same old mistakes—they just don’t change on your schedule. Perhaps you’ve been waiting for a long time for someone to wise up and treat you differently. Perhaps you’ve grown hungry for the kind of connections that require you jumping over hurdle after hurdle in hopes of proving yourself worthy of love.
Say you are worthy of love, then, say you are worthy of care. Say that the work a lover, parent, friend must do to know your heart is good work in service of the highest good. It’s work that you’ve been seeking and doing for others, and you deserve the same regard. If there is a god that has made you difficult to love, praise that god. For it’s the same god that made you difficult that also made you precious for those smart enough to stay and to learn.
It’s not a secret from anyone close to you that you are angry. Your anger is formidable it permeates the room no matter how many jokes or soft smiles you offer up to subdue the impression your sharpness, now overflowing, leaves on innocent bystanders. Don’t mistake my description for disparagement, anger is beautiful and necessary—especially for women ruled by the moon. And, how can you help the fire from welling your throat when the moon is full in Aries right in the beginning of this month? How can you help but feel the chaos of the world press hard and insistent against the tumult of your inner being?
Your anger isn’t easy for you to navigate because it’s not who you remember being. You miss that part of you that forgave easily, that was soft without resentment. And, I know you’re at the brink of giving it all up, but you know you can’t because you’ve been pushed to this edge for a reason. You’ve had to break away from old patterns and ruts because the risk staying or repeating posed to your spirit was far too great. That makes you the hero of your life, Cancer, but be mindful of the hero’s ego. If you need help, ask for help. If you need rest, give everyone a break including yourself. Make lots of “I” statements that are also “I need” statements. Protect yourself but not at the cost of cutting down others.
Fall can be hard on a Leo who doesn’t have what she wants. Summer is full of hours slipping away lying around under a bright sky, problems blurring in the hot insistent light. Fall is not so forgiving; it sets the trees on fire and clears the ways. Suddenly, the world is bare, and there’s nowhere for pain to hide. Pain lies down at your feet like so many leaves and beckons you down. I know you feel it coming, I know you’ve been packing your days and pacing through your nights. I know, too, that there are days you don’t think you’ll be strong enough to take on everything you’ve set aside for “when you’re strong enough.” Maybe you were praying you’d be dead first, maybe you were convinced that if a wound lay untouched long enough, it would become something else—what?
I don’t have to tell you, do I, that the pain you feel around the edge of your spirit is not outside you? Whatever joys you have cultivated, whatever beauty you’ve worked hard for, past wounds will surface time and time again to compromise what’s new and fruitful. If you don’t reach into the places where your body stores your losses, your losses are left untended like strange vines. Wisteria of sorrows. What are you willing to do to protect what you love? Don’t wait until the branches have grown thick and sunk their stems into your supports—comprising the structure.
Last month, the new moon, Mercury, Mars, Venus, and the Sun in your sign must have done a real number on you. While some of these planets are slowly (or quickly) sliding into Libra, the residual effects of their visit are more than likely vibrating through you. Imagine the scenario as the moment a house of guests leave and you, the host, are left with the silence and lessons their visit impressed upon you. Sure, some things are simple enough to deal with: clean up, restock the cabinets, revel in the pleasure of a quiet morning. But, in that quiet, can’t you hear another voice from within you?
I think the more you approach your daily life with balance, the more you seek clarity after so much noise, the more you’ll realize that universe has started to call your bluff. If you’ve over-extended yourself in your relationships, you’re going to feel over-extended. If you’ve been putting off self-care or offering time and energy you don’t have, you’re gonna find yourself sick with resentment. And, it might look like a cold, it might look like injuries, it might look like passive-aggressive comments that lead to fights but listen, Virgo, it doesn’t have to be this way. Admit what parts of yourself you’ve hidden from yourself to protect someone else. From what? Your wild heart? Ask yourself who you’re protecting, really, and at what cost.
When you begin the month with the Sun and Mercury in Libra, the hot spotlight is on you. You might not be on a stage anyone else can see, but you’re being asked to show up and give it your all. That’s because while the Sun charms and sustains your efforts, Mercury wants to know what your efforts mean to you. Do you hinge your happiness on the small things that go your way? Does the bigger picture fade into the background the moment the surface of your life begins to click with synchronicity? Perhaps you’re just taking things as they come, trying your best to stay present and grateful for what’s working when so often things fall apart. Alright. There’s grace in that, isn’t there, Libra? But, what about those moments when the parts stop clicking? You can’t use the same approach in reverse, can you? What threatens the surface doesn’t necessarily threaten your core. Oh balance, you’re so good at maintaining it around you—when will it seep its way into you?
With Venus in Libra on October 14, balance might not look like what you imagined, but it’s yours. It’s not going to be justice, it’s never an eye for an eye, and there’s no cure for heartache that doesn’t break your heart open. It’s darkness and light, your answers coming twofold and for good reason. It’s your season, Libra, and you are learning to show up for yourself, especially in relation to the people around you. Treat yourself with the measure and kindness you want to treat others. Ask yourself: In what ways have I abandoned myself when I needed myself most? In what ways have I manifested incredible kindness and care that I would have never imagined I deserved?
Recently, I took a walk to a very large park in the southern part of Brooklyn, New York. I have spent many mornings at this park, at exactly the point which I visited, especially in my youth. Still, I found myself bewildered by a particularly verdant area. There was so much moss and a weeping willow amongst other trees I’ve never learned the names of. And, at the center of it all, a blue heron. A heron! Can you believe it?
Ok, I know you’re wondering what I think my experience with the subtle grandiosity of nature has to do with you. Here’s the thing, grief is a strange thing. A Scorpio anticipates loss because a Scorpio always has their finger on the pulse of sorrow. A Scorpio convinces themselves they can endure anything because their endurance is unbeatable. A Scorpio stays much longer than they should in situations that are harmful to them because a Scorpio has delusions about their emotional strength. And, then, when those situations turn—when they become unbearable—a Scorpio wakes, as if from a dream, and can’t make sense of themselves. Here’s the other thing: I waited for a long time hoping I would see that Heron spread her wings, to show me the full span of her splendor and beauty. I realized, in waiting, that the moment I saw her full wings was the moment she would leave me. I realized that I had a life to return to and only so much of it could be spent waiting for something beautiful to leave me first.
Jupiter leaves your house this month, Sagittarius, and as old Shakespeare said that one time in that play about teenagers who took on too much of their parents’ baggage: “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” What’s sweet about a lover like Jupiter leaving? Well, Jupiter is no heartbreaker, and when he departs, he does so with good humor and a dose of kindness. He knows that your time together has taught you a lot about yourself, how capable you are of handling a challenge others might buckle before, how ready you are to become the best version of yourself thus far, how much you deserve to get back what you give.
Jupiter is gone, but his lessons remain, and that’s a good thing since Sappho is transiting through you into mid-December and Saturn is still with you for two more months. That fog you feel clouding your power, it exhausts you. To clear it, you’ve got to reclaim some desires you’ve been scared to face. Exalt the divine feminine, Sappho declares, as if she has written your name in a prayer to Artemis. Let the divine lover merge with the huntress. Saturn isn’t done with you either, but you are no longer Saturn’s subject. What you didn’t know how to ask for before, you know how to ask for it now.
For 20 years and 4 billion dollars, NASA let a spacecraft named Cassini study Saturn but to keep the spacecraft operating any longer was to risk contaminating Saturn’s moons, which show potential for life. So, in September, Cassini was directed toward Saturn’s atmosphere to crash and burn there. Regarding the destruction, a Vox article claims, “Cassini’s finale was so special: It’s not just a spectacle. It’s a scientific operation that honors the precious limited time we have to explore other worlds. And that pain is compounded by the fact that Cassini leaves Saturn with mysteries left unsolved." Still, up until its last moments, the Cassini relayed valuable information about Saturn and its rings, data that we have yet to know the full value of.
Your ruling planet, the arduous student, the dedicated worker, has spent a long time in the sign of the higher mind, the sign of expansion, ethics, and risk for reward. And although you’re no stranger to Saturn’s shadow, the optimism and will to grow that Sagittarius has had on you is no small influence. You have been learning how to be kinder to yourself, you have been shown your strengths, and you have been taught your limits. This has all been in preparation of a much deeper psychological journey. With Pluto going direct, the dreams that once haunted you will shift into premonitions of powerful possibilities. Whatever missions you imagine you have failed in your life this far, you’re being shown through a new lens. If something ideal didn’t work, it wasn’t ideal for you, not going forward. Forgive yourself for what must be left unsolved, sometimes a spacecraft has to be destroyed before you can have the information you want.
Sometimes life forces us to do the work. Sometimes the pain we suffer by circumstance or by choice, by the will of another or by our own will, will bring us to our knees and, there—lowest we've ever been—offer us a mirrored surface to look into and through. “Who are you without your beloved?” It asks us. “Who are you without that job that projects that weekly ritual?” Are these parts of your life making you who you are or have you made a haven out of what surrounds you and left your core self to maintain on its own? Always in relation to? Always for the other, because of the other?
But, sometimes life is not so easy to read. Sometimes you are given blessings, you are made to feel full and abundant and brave. You summon love and love comes, you open the book and the words flow through you, money seems to come from means you didn't expect or couldn't have, and you are grateful. These gifts, these glimmers of pleasure, don’t absolve you of the work you've got to do. A blessing is not a sign that your lessons are done. Rather, a blessing is a teacher just as pain is a teacher and, because joy is easier to forget than suffering, it's the kind of teacher who waits for you to come to her classroom on your own. You show up not because you were forced to learn but because you have been given grace and now it's your job to learn how to care for it.
I know you're sensitive. I know you have a way of internalizing a lot of what's around you, of sometimes taking on what's not yours to take on. I know that much has been said about the sweetness of your love and the vastness of your affection. And, I, too, have loved my share of Pisces. I've swum in the blue of their gaze which promised me a velvet rope of desire tied soft and enduring around my hardest heart. I have known many a Pisces at their best and still, I must speak of the wreckage that a Pisces who doesn’t know themselves can leave in their wake.
I have seen the wandering girl jump from lover to lover, making their homes her home and never learning how to build her own. I have met the bruja of many sorrows, who was afraid of tenderness, who had been taught that tenderness overturned is justified cruelty. And, I have met powerhouses, innovators, resistors, love warriors, who over and over again privileged their head over their heart because they were afraid of their own power. This month, I want you to interrogate the parts of yourself that self-sabotage, the parts that—under the guise of self-care or self-actualization—have put you in your own way, have made your world smaller. Your world is not small. Your world is a tributary in the great river, and you can flow anywhere, through any rock and crevice, toward a life that is rich and fertile.