Something's in the air this March, and if it's not political primary-fueled animosity, then it's probably spring. Spring, like anger, is generative and generally more productive so, while it seems almost impossible to turn our eyes and attention away from the shit show that is American politics, it's worth the health of our spirits to occasionally step away from the screen (after reading your March 2020 horoscopes that is).
If it's windy where you are like it is where I am, it might be helpful to step into a gust of wind occasionally and imagine all the information of the world whirring over and past you. The wind is doing a lot of work this month, not least of which can be felt by Mercury's transit through Aquarius for the first half of March. In fact, work might be the name of the game with a Virgo full moon March 9, the same day Mercury stations direct. Work, in this case, might be a four-letter word but the kind that's either a burden or a lot of fun, like fuck… and like love. Mars, the planet of fucking and fighting, spends March in industrious Capricorn before shifting into spacey Aquarius on March 30 but not before Saturn dips a ring in Aquarius on the 24th.
With the new moon in energetic and entrepreneurial Aries in the early hours of March 24, there's more opportunity than ever to apply ourselves. If we're not careful, we might think that, whatever spring's got to offer, the condition is endless quotidian labor. But, Venus transits Taurus on March 4, and it loves a transcendent group nap. Mercury transits through Pisces for the last half of March and an intimate processing session, or some private time or dream journaling, is not beyond the scope of planned activities.
Whatever it is the winds bring you this March, whether it's relief from feelings of political powerlessness or a chill that just won't leave your bones, there are messages coming to you on the tail end of a long gale. Messages from the stars, and messages you wrote down last month but misplaced, that mean to find you this month, just in time.
In its common use, the word "maturity" is often a synonym for a kind of conservatism, a coming to adulthood as is understood by normative (often hetero) standards. Settling down, picking a career path, financial and family planning. Those of us farther along the road of adulthood know, however, that there isn't ever really a "coming to." We rise and meet the day, the years go on and we go on with them, dragging along our sensibilities, expectations, and cultural inheritance. Children happen, some by earnest attempt and some by wild happenstance, or they don't. Careers build or they dissipate. Which is not to say that maturity never happens. It does, over and over again, in stages, and differently for everyone.
Like a book re-read after a decade, you pick up your life and you see a different plot line, an alternate meaning. Aries, energized by a new awareness of your purpose and a deeper insight into your own values, March finds you ready to move toward work that aligns with the self you are maturing into.
Maturity can mean acknowledging that marriage isn't integral to your personal vision, and there's no shame in that. Or, it can mean embracing your desire to commit to the courageous work of companionship and companion-growth (think different herbs in the same garden box and how they affect each other's thriving). More likely, March will have a lot to offer you by way of self-assessment rather than relationship-assessment (although one almost always informs the other). Perhaps, then, maturity might look like stepping further into the light of your own power, recognizing the range of your influence, and taking care to direct that energy toward the places where it will do the most good and generate the most returns.
Change comes slowly and then all at once. We know the number of the year shifts, the addresses are updated, and the names that take up regular space in our text screens and email boxes are rotated or dispersed. We know our style is subject to our sense of self—our interests and the style of the people we mean to attract. Style is signal, after all, a calling card. Projects and passions are a signal too; devoting your time to a new art or institution is sure way to call in a new social scene. A back-and-forth on the material plane is a back-and-forth on a spiritual plane: You shift your landscape, and your landscape shifts your interior.
Whether you feel it or not, Taurus, your interior landscape is wider than it once was, more capacious and generous with space.
You have been alone for a long time, Taurus, even in the company of conspirators. Your aloneness was a quest, subconscious or not, to figure out what and who you are when not in the presence of others, to know what you've got to give before you go about giving it away. You have gone the lone road enough, dear Taurus, and are no longer hungry to discern what is authentic to you and what some might call a societal inheritance (the values of your social world, the expectations of your social world). The outer adjustments were easy enough to reckon with, the new hobbies, the new clothes, the new labels. But now, it's time to accept and attend to the larger thing: your readiness to be in service to something bigger than yourself; your desire to share your capacious inner world with others.
February might have felt short for some people, but for many Geminis like yourself, it surely seemed to go on forever. Being a summer babe is part of it, sure, and there's something to be said about winter and its doldrums. But, even if you travelled elsewhere, even if you packed your days with errands and activities, Mercury's slow retrograde crawl through watery Pisces must have found you checking the calendar every now and then wondering how, by all gods, only a week had gone by. March is here to quicken the pace, dear Gemini, and it's right on time.
While February had you observing a routine you'd hammered into your days like goal posts into mud, March gives you the opportunity to examine your most recent handiwork and make the proper adjustments moving forward.
These adjustments are not entirely about bettering your schedule. In fact, it would do you a great deal of good to approach whatever you re-work with an eye toward your overall ethos and intention rather than your datebook. It's likely that your first attempts reveal what you know how to do out of habit rather than what you hope to build for yourself going forward. Whatever project or connection you apply this re-working energy to, ask yourself who you tasked with structuring the first version: the present version of you or a past self you've mostly outgrown. This will instruct your methods, your critical eye. If revision is the place where the art really happens, approach yourself as both the source and scene of that art.
It is said that people born on a full moon are people prone to oppositions. These oppositions are, for the most part, informative and magnetic extremes that instruct these people toward a kind of harmonized balance. What is seen, for those born under a full moon, is in relationship to what is unseen, and where there is light there is shadow. When the Sun is in Pisces and the full moon is in Virgo this March, there is a great deal of focus around what is known by way of material and what is intuited. The key for you this month, Cancer, will be accepting that, despite all your sensitivity and claircognizance, the truth of the matter must incorporate what is experienced and active in the present moment.
If you have been waiting for a sign, if you have been waiting until there's "more information," step back and ascertain if, despite all the signs you already been given, you have not given yourself permission or power to trust the signs when they arrive.
When Odysseus returned home from his journey in a beggar's disguise, only his dogs recognized him. In the Tarot, dogs take their rightful place below the moon, howling a song equal parts instinct and intuition. The dogs of Odysseus could have sensed their master through a magic veil by some sacred tug—some mystic sign. Or, they trusted what they smelled and the information that gave them. Is it possible, Cancer, that you've had trouble recognizing a message because the ones that came were not what you hoped for? Even those of us who are psychic are susceptible to the hooks of expectation. Intuition that resists acknowledging the reality of the present moment is illusion.
Every day that you are alive is an active day. At your most still, there are organs inside of you working: your lungs, your heart, your brain. Even your skin sheds without you knowing it. I say this to remind you that what presents as stagnancy can, when closely examined, reveal a great deal of movement and activity. You, your life, and the people in it are always changing, and if what's around you is changing, then it's only natural that what's within you is changing too—even if it's slow to show. They say you never step into the same river twice.
This March, it is up to you, dear Leo, to recognize that, while the river of your life may look the same, it is not. The river is changing, and your relationship to it is too, even if your routines stay the same. Underneath words like "stagnant" or "blocked" or "detached" are feelings, and feelings, when respected, can be a great source of information.
This month, information is exactly what you're after. How does one respect their feelings? If your first instinct is to interpret them, resist. Feelings are not created within language. Language helps us to situate our feelings within an archive of what has been felt before us, and language can—at its most powerful—spark a new feeling within us. To respect a feeling is to feel it wholly, to let it vibrate through us, to locate the parts of ourselves from which it rings out. To respect a feeling is to give it space even if it's scary. Even if it means being vulnerable to someone else or letting yourself want more than "just enough." Even if it means admitting that what was right no longer feels right.
One imagines that a month like February isn't a Virgo's favorite. It's short—too short to accomplish much—and chaotic, what with the wild winds rising and winter's stores running low. Spring's ardent approach is promised, but the timeline isn't guaranteed. Mix in the residual effect of some heavy hitting eclipses and Mercury (Virgo's ruler) stationed retrograde on Pisces (Virgo's polarity), and you've got a mess that March is stuck cleaning up. It's a good thing that Virgo, like Marie Condo, "loves mess." Especially if that mess is somebody else's. Always alert to a direct ask and hungry for a useful task, Virgo jumps at the opportunity to put things to right in their wider world.
Is there anything better to distract oneself from one's emotional turmoil than focusing on the needs of others? While the temptation to project your own dissatisfactions onto your collective might be high this month, Virgo, you won't find relief there.
The moon rises full in Virgo on the 9th, the same day that Mercury stations direct in Aquarius and begins to make its way "back" until it finds its way to Pisces on the 16th. March offers you clarification, Virgo, and if you spend your attention on busy work and busy-bodying, you just might overlook the offering. Focus on yourself, your private inquiries, your energetic investments and your returns. If you're pulling to organize, organize your thoughts, and look for the patterns that crop up, note the folders stuffed with other people's beliefs, other people's priorities, other people. You are a powerful asset to your collective, especially when you are clear on just what it is you bring to the table as a spectacular, singular, being.
Sitting in my apartment by a window on the last day of February, waiting for what I call "the light show" to begin, I am thinking about what we can see of the world and what we can't see of the process that brings it to us. When I write "the light show," I mean the sun's slow descent behind the houses and building that populate my view. The sky and the clouds that spot it turn, minute by minute, a different color. It's blue and violet and slowly—increasingly—coral with dashes of red. The scientific phenomenon that we know as a colorful sunset is called "scattering," or the scattering of light through atmosphere particles as it gets closer to the horizon. Violet, the shorter wavelength, scatters quickest and first. Red, the longest wavelength, is the color that reaches us. The color of the sunset depends on, not the sun, not our eyes, but the conditions of the air between us.
When there is an exchange, a resource or an intimacy, between multiple parties, it can sometimes be enough to recognize the structure of things. It can be enough to say, "This is what you have offered, and this is what I can, or wish, to receive." This month, however, you might find that recognizing the structure or the terms of the exchange is not the best you can do.
The best you can do this March, Libra, is give yourself time to watch the light show. Allow for the possibility that what you're witnessing between you and those you choose to engage with is a result of a process that is not within your scope of perception. It is, however, within the scope of your imagination and your understanding. And, it's not unlikely that the more time you spend beholding what comes to you (acts of affection, offerings of support, calls for accountability) as the lasting wavelengths of a much larger event, the closer you'll come to understanding just how much was scattered—how much more was meant and unobserved.
They say that like attracts like, and there's truth to it. In the Northeast, we see birds returning, following each other across the wide expanse of sky. One goose calls, and another one answers. On mountain peaks, raptors circle above trees and juts of stone. And, young people, in groups of three and four, swarm in and out of bars wearing scraps of neon vinyl, Doc Martens, expensive jackets made to look thrifted. But, there are other kinds of attraction as well, aren't there? For instance, the way that a certain kind of stillness will attract motion, how someone content in their solitude is a beacon for attention and company.
This March, a portal opens for you Scorpio, and there's no wrong way to respond. If you're of the mind to sit back and witness the opening, you will find that a doorway begets visitors and visitations (what comes might be less human and more spirit—but you already knew that). If you're inclined to move toward the portal—through it—you'll find yourself buoyed by the company of others who have made a similar choice.
Either way, you won't find yourself alone. In fact, despite your devotion to your aloneness, you haven't been alone for a long time and won't be. All along your path, you've been accompanied and guided, by ancestors, by strangers and wayward spirits, and by friends. So, this month's portal is no more a break from solitude than a gate in an open field is a break from the contents of that field. What comes through, or what you'll find on the other side, has already been collecting all around you and waiting for your attention. It's just a thing that directs and sharpens your gaze.
When Jupiter (your ruling planet) in Capricorn forms a quintile to Chiron in Aries this month, the influence won't take you by surprise one bit. Quintiles, an ostensibly minor aspect in astrology, are said to enhance a creative and expressive flow between the planets involved. The planets involved, in this case, are Jupiter and Chiron. Jupiter is a planet that deals in expansion, ranging from the acquisition of new philosophies and ways of life to good real estate investment, over-spending, and gambling. Chiron, on the other hand, is an asteroid that is most often described as the wounded healer. Chiron stirs those it aspects to tend to the first arrows of their lived experience, to find the remedy for what holds them back so that they might share that knowledge and medicine with others.
Because Jupiter deals in philosophies and grace, it offers its own forms of medicine. At the intersection of these two planets is the concept of healing, and this month, that's just what the doctor ordered.
Now, healing can mean a great deal of things to different people, depending on the angle. And, for some Sagittarians, this will be quite literal; in which case, it's good to remember that rest is compassion you offer your body. But, for most archers out there, what's being treated has less to do with stitches and bandages and more to do with a wound that's holding them back from reaching their fullest potential. A wound like a self-defeating belief about who you are and what you were meant for in this world. A wound that was most likely handed down to you so long ago, you've grown to believe you gave it to yourself. In this case, affirming what your own life has taught you about your capabilities will be a useful salve.
With your ruling planet standing in the strong winds of Aquarius this month, you are tasked with assessing how your personal goals fit into your vision for the world around you. Not only in a collective-responsibility sense but in a personal community sense. This month, you might find yourself willing and capable of shifting your responses to your attachments: to other people, to daily habits, and—most importantly—to the ways you've been positioning yourself in relation to the life you are building. This month is a powerful time to repeatedly ask yourself what would need to change in order for you to take yourself as seriously as you take your commitments.
How can what you want and feel and yearn for be of less value than the responsibilities you have taken on for the sake of others, even those you love? If you prioritize your vows to others, who prioritizes your vows to you?
Or, perhaps you have shied away from making vows to yourself, imagining that you will make them when you are the self you are proud of. Children feel free to discover the power they possess when their guardians are steadfast and stable systems of support. If there is a part of you that is growing and needs to believe in herself, how do you encourage her? Shame, belittling, condescension, these are all acts of violence. How do you show the growing-self inside you that she deserves the space she aims to take up? Decenter the voices, systems, and influences that aim to diminish you. All forms of violence fear a power that is seeded in love.
With all the birthday celebrations, and the friendship circle negotiating those celebrations entail, behind you, it might feel like only the drudgery of winter's last stand awaits. If the email backlog is a forest's worth of logs and the to-do list never seems to get any shorter, it's worth remembering that everything you are doing now is part of a larger contract you have made with yourself and your ambitions. Even if you're not feeling particularly ambitious in the moment, even if your daily life appears to bob in the wind at precisely the same distance from the shore every morning, there is a forward-thinking part of you that has designed this chapter in preparation for the one following it.
Even at our most limited, financially or systemically, we are not without choice. Choosing one shitty job with great pay over a great job with shitty pay, choosing distance over intimacy, choosing to pay more to live alone. You choose one need over another need. Autonomy vs. Connection, Stability vs. Fulfillment, Peace of mind vs. Peace of mind.
With Mercury retrograde visiting Aquarius on the 4th, and much information flowing every which way, you might find it hard to discern what you have chosen purposefully and what has occurred in the absence of claiming a choice. It will be of value to you, Aquarius, to keep a written record of your days and the agreements you make this month. The projects you agree to and how much they sustain your interest. The work you do for money, and the work that work allows you to do in the world: be creative, take care of others, better yourself. The people you counsel, the people whose counsel you seek, the space you do or don't hold human error in yourself and others. With Saturn moving into Aquarius on the 21st and Mars following on the 30th, your record of agreements will prove a valuable resource in planning for a new season that is more disciplined, more determined, more and more.
Cycles close and begin all the time. Sometimes there's a kind of ceremony to it, or a sign that comes down from on high like a bird returning to a familiar perch after a long migration. And, sometimes, a cycle closes so quietly that you don't notice a thing and go about your day thinking nothing at all has shifted. Sometimes a moon can be like that, passing between zodiac signs and states of fullness, and it's not awful to simply surrender to what the universe has in store without doing all the work of noticing. But, if you were to spend time noticing this March, Pisces, you might come to understand that there is a new current in the water.
February's new moon brought a great deal of energy to your kind, and while Mercury Rx in Pisces might have gotten some of the language around it muddy, there have been physical indications. Vibrations, sensations, a buzz that ripples through you like an alert—a notification.
When Mercury stations direct mid-March, don't be surprised to find that there's a whole lot of language and information flowing in about all that you've been feeling. Your return to clarity will be a powerful one because while you may have been laying down, you have not been idle.
Your mediations, your inner workings, identified old attachments and pruned them like dead leaves that suck energy from the root. Quietly, you have closed a cycle within you and, in closing it, you have given yourself room to pick up and practice new methods, to gestate something new within yourself, something green and brave.