There are seasons in astrology that whisper, and there are seasons that arrive like a tide turning under your feet.

Neptune re-entering Aries on Jan 26 was one of those moments. Subtle in appearance but immense in consequence. A shift in the dream-body of humanity and recalibration of how spirit moves through our will, identity, courage, desire.

Neptune first entered Aries on March 30, 2025, offering a preview of this new era, a kind of spiritual overture, a first breath of what is coming. It moved back into Pisces later in 2025, inviting further integration and completion, before fully committing to Aries on January 26th, 2026, where it will remain until 2039.

So yes… this is a long initiation, a generational passage, soul-era shift for humanity..

This classroom is brutal, excruciating. It strips illusion down to the bones, and it gives our power back in the same motion. Through these experiences, I learned the difference between sacrifice and devotion, empathy and self-betrayal, spiritual love and emotional imprisonment. I met my shadow in the underworld, and through that meeting, I integrated it, made it part of my authority, and returned carrying the medicine.

And staying soft in the face of cruelty, envy, abuse has been the most courageous thing I have ever done. I feel more present inside myself, more grounded in my choices, less willing to betray myself.. less willing to explain my boundaries, more devoted to the life I am building slowly, honestly, with spirit, my allies, with God.

Hello my beautiful souls, Mercury has moved into Pisces on February 6, and the mental atmosphere changed.. the mind stops trying to solve everything, and starts trying to feel it. The air clears in one way.. and gets misty in another.. Thoughts become less linear and more tidal, you remember things you were not trying to remember, and you sense meanings you cannot fully explain.. you pick up what is underneath a sentence, not only what is being said.

And this is only the beginning of the Pisces wave.. Venus follows into Pisces on February 10, the Sun follows on February 18, and Mars follows on March 2.. one by one, the cosmos keeps turning the volume up on sensitivity, surrender, devotion, and the invisible.

February’s energy is big, intense, and alive in the body, and this week there is a click inside the collective nervous system, and a sudden sense that something has been waiting and gathering, charging, and now it is ready to move again. Uranus is stationing direct.

A station is a threshold. Uranus has been holding still, lingering at the edge of a decision, vibrating like a tuning fork inside Taurus terrain.. the body, the money story, the land beneath your feet, your appetite for stability, your relationship to time, your pace, your values, what you refuse to rush, what you refuse to betray. When Uranus is direct, the change becomes audible. It leaves the hidden room, walks into the kitchen, and stops being an idea, it becomes a movement you can feel in your day-to-day choices.

The collective atmosphere has shifted into something sharper, stranger, more electric. it is Aquarius season, yes, but this is not the airy, detached Aquarius people reduce to “independence” and “quirky ideas.” this is Aquarius with teeth, Aquarius with a heartbeat loud enough to rearrange your nervous system.

Right now, the sky is building a rare kind of pressure. we have a stellium in Aquarius – Sun, Pluto, Mercury, Venus… and as of January 23, 2026, Mars enters Aquarius and joins them.. and on the same day, we meet one of the most potent portals of the year: Pluto Cazimi – the Sun and Pluto conjoining in Aquarius, Pluto “in the heart of the Sun.”

There are New Moons that feel like a soft beginning… and then there are New Moons that arrive like a threshold, the kind you can feel in your bones before you can explain it. You might be washing dishes, packing a bag, staring at the ceiling at night… and suddenly you know. Something in you is done, ready. The inner negotiation ends.

This Capricorn New Moon at 28º is one of those.

Capricorn carries the architecture of embodiment, the part of you that knows how to keep going, how to build with time, how to make devotion real. It rules the bones – your inner structure, the part that holds you upright when emotions run loud, when life feels uncertain, when a chapter is demanding a clean ending and you can feel the weight of it in your body.

This Cancer Full Moon really meets us where we are emotionally. Not in some big cinematic way, but in those very human moments where we notice how it all feels in our bodies before we notice our thoughts. We might feel it in how we wake up or how our energy moves through the day…or in the quiet inner pause that says, something here matters.

With the Moon in Cancer, conjunct Sirius, we are being pulled closer to what we feel when we are not performing and not holding it all together.

Sirius can sound very cosmic and very far away, but in lived experience it is actually practical. This was a star people oriented their entire survival around. It guided them when to plant, when to prepare, when something in the environment was about to change. Our emotional responses, our bodily signals, that sense of ease or contraction – THIS is guidance. We do not need to justify it. If something feels off, that matters. If something feels quietly supportive, that also matters.

There is a subtle but unmistakable shift you can feel as Venus crosses the threshold from Sagittarius into Capricorn, like the moment when laughter from a wide open field softens into the quiet of stone walls and mountain air, when the party does not end, it simply changes venues. Something in you straightens its spine. Desire slows its gallop, checks its calendar, and starts asking different questions, not about what sounds inspiring in theory, but about what can actually be built and inhabited over time, what has enough weight and warmth to stay.

When the Sun enters Capricorn at the Solstice, consciousness moves from seeking meaning to embodying it. Capricorn is not concerned with ideals in theory, it asks how our truth shows up in your daily choices and how our integrity is practiced when no one is applauding. This is the sign of stewardship, of tending what has been entrusted to you, including your time, energy, responsibilities, and your inner life.

Capricorn energy often gets misunderstood as heavy or restrictive, but at its core it is deeply protective. It understands LIMITS AS CONTAINERS rather than punishments. It recognizes that devotion requires structure, and that care needs form in order to endure. When the Sun moves here, attention naturally shifts toward what is sustainable, what can be built slowly.

At the Solstice, there is wisdom in acknowledging where you are in the long arc of your life, what you are ready to mature, and what you are no longer willing to carry in the same way.

The New Moon is conjunct the Galactic Center, and this alone changes the tone entirely. This is not simply about setting intentions or planting seeds. This is a moment of GREAT RECALIBRATION, where your personal storyline brushes up against something much much larger, older, and vastly more intelligent than the everyday mind. The Galactic Center does not ask polite questions, it transmits, It opens a channel and REMINDS you that your life has always been in conversation with the cosmos, even when you forgot to listen.

When Mars enters Capricorn, something ancient stirs in our bones. Energy moves differently now.. slow, deliberate, and anchored deep in the body. Desire gathers itself, measured and intentional, rising from purpose rather than impulse. Our actions carry weight. Motivation feels steady, not urgent, and our inner authority begins to shape what moves forward.

Mars here asks us to relate to wanting itself in a new way. Our energy becomes discerning and selective, naturally withdrawing from what drains or distracts, and leaning toward what can endure. There is a quiet intelligence to this fire, a knowing of where effort matters and where it dissipates. Clarity grows, and we begin to honor the rhythm of our life force. Not every desire needs expression at once; some are meant to ripen in patience, finding strength through containment rather than impulsive release.

There is a hush at the edge of the world right now.. not empty, but profoundly saturated. Neptune, the planet that rules the misty undercurrents of soul, art, and dream, has come to a still point at the very last degree of Pisces - 29º.. stations direct on December 10, 2025. This is not a small, routine astronomical tic. This is the deep subtle alchemical pause at the end of an era. Neptune has been carrying a long, slow load of collective imagination, grief, revelation, and devotion since it first moved through the zodiac in a new cycle more than a century and a half ago. Now, poised on the last degree of Pisces, it gives you a last, distilled offering from a 165-year wave of Neptune-in-Pisces consciousness.. everything that has been learned, dreamed, dissolved, and sanctified is asking to be gathered, clarified, and carried forward.

There is a psychological quickening around Full Moons that touch the Nodes. You may feel restless and suspended between choices, unable to go backward yet not fully stepping forward. That sensation is not indecision. It is transition. Your inner voice is being recalibrated to a more honest frequency. At 13°, Gemini becomes the threshold where internal commentary becomes external reality. Thoughts you have kept tucked away begin to insist on expression, conversations arrive that you did not plan for. Truths will slip out, the inner monologue becomes dialogue.

And yes.. that can feel risky. Vulnerability always does. But this is where the magic of Gemini resides: when your truth enters the air, your future takes shape.

With Uranus re-enterance in Taurus on November 8, 2025, there’s a kind of cosmic exhale..  the unmistakable feeling of déjà vu with a twist. Something in the atmosphere says, you’ve been here before, but not quite like this. It’s as if time loops back for one final calibration before the collective - and you - leap into the electric air of Gemini.

From 2018 to mid-2025, Uranus in Taurus has acted as a slow earthquake beneath everything we once called “secure.” Money systems cracked. Food, land, the body, the Earth herself.. all shook awake. The collective learned the hard truth that stability, when built on outdated systems, isn’t safety. It is stagnation.

On the personal level, you have likely lived this through sudden shifts in your finances, values, love, body awareness, self-worth, or home. Uranus didn’t just remove the false ground,  it taught you to root through movement. To make peace with change as a constant companion.

Nov 29th, Mercury stations direct in Scorpio at 20°, and the air shifts in that unmistakable Scorpio way..  like a low, velvet hum beneath the floorboards of your mind. There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not loud, not theatrical, not a trumpet blast announcing clarity. It’s more like a door inside your chest quietly unlocking, a hinge that finally gives, a truth that exhales after weeks of holding its breath.

Scorpio’s Mercury doesn’t think in straight lines. It thinks in spirals and submerged images, in emotional intelligence refined through darkness and return. When Mercury stands still and then moves forward again in this sign, the whole field of perception changes from rumination to recognition.

Today, Saturn stations direct, and on some level, all of us feel the shift. Not as drama, not as cosmic thunder, but as a quiet pressure beneath the surface..  the sense that something inside our lives is ready to move again after months of being suspended in a strange, timeless tide.

There is a particular quality to Saturn’s stillness. It isn’t passive. It vibrates. It asks something of us. It gathers our attention in the subtle places where our lives have been blurring, leaking, dissolving, drifting.

Imagine yourself standing at the edge of a vast mythic plain.. the scorched, darkened terrain of Scorpio behind you, ember-lit and humming with the secrets you’ve claimed. And ahead, the horizon trembles as a great Centaur emerges: bow slung over its shoulder, mane wind-tangled, eyes ancient with knowing. It kneels.. not in reverence, but in recognition.. offering you a torch carved from bone and starlight. This is the Torch of the Wanderer, lit only after a soul has survived the descent and returned carrying truth. The Centaur does not speak; it simply turns toward the wide-open expanse, inviting you to walk beside it. Not to follow blindly, not to lead recklessly, but to co-create destiny stride by stride. The myth is not separate from you. The myth is you.

Under this New Moon, death is not a threat.. it is an archetype. Death is transition, restoration. Death is what happens when the soul outgrows its cage. Scorpio holds the human condition in both hands, the unbearable and the divine,  and says: You aren’t here to be unscarred. You are here to be transformed.

And this is the sacred paradox: The more you love your shadow, the more it transforms into wisdom and light. The more we sit with the wound, the more it becomes our doorway. The more you surrender to the truth, the more liberated you become.

This Moon asks you to stop negotiating your light with your darkness..  stop treating them like enemies who need a treaty. They are the same river, flowing in opposite directions, toward the same source. You are immense enough to carry both.

From November 11, 2025, to March 10, 2026, Jupiter will turn inward in the sign of Cancer, asking us to revisit the foundations of our belonging, our nourishment, and the quiet truths behind the lives we’ve built. After months of outward expansion since June, this retrograde doesn’t arrive to undo growth, it arrives to deepen it. To remind us that expansion without emotional anchoring is hollow, that “success” without softness loses its soul.

When Jupiter moves through Cancer, the archetype of the Great Mother meets the archetype of the Sage. Wisdom becomes tenderness.

How are you feeling as Mercury begins to hover between motion and memory?

There’s a particular electricity in the air when the planet of mind, message, and movement slows down.. almost like time exhales. Thoughts get heavier, words echo louder, meaning thickens. On November 9, Mercury stationed retrograde at 6°51’ Sagittarius, beginning the final retrograde of 2025 and one of the most symbolic ones of the entire year.

Because this one happens on the same degree where Mercury stationed direct last December, it’s not random..it’s a spiral. We are revisiting a conversation that began almost a year ago, a thread that still hums beneath the surface. The universe is asking: what truth were you trying to tell then, but didn’t yet have the language for?