On Wednesday, December 10, 2025, Neptune appears to stand still in the sky, ending its six-month retrograde and beginning its slow forward motion once more. Although planets never truly move backward, their apparent movement causes a significant shift in the psyche. When Neptune pauses, the waters of our inner world pause with it. The fog many have been navigating begins to lift. What felt suspended, unclear, or unspoken finally starts to move again—not forcefully, but with that unmistakable Neptunian softness, like a tide turning beneath moonlight long before anyone notices the shoreline has changed.
For months, many people have sensed an internal shift, as if something beneath the surface was rearranging itself. As Neptune turns direct, that unnamed feeling begins to clarify. Truths rise gently. Emotions that were muted or confusing start to express themselves more clearly. There is a subtle but real alignment happening between your inner and outer life. What was blurred becomes sharper. What was distant starts to come forward.
This moment calls for emotional honesty. Old sensitivities, patterns, or frustrations may surface again—not as regressions, but as signs of what you have outgrown. This is a threshold where your soul encourages you to stop compromising with your own truth. Boundaries that once felt difficult may now seem necessary. The voice that remained silent may now emerge. Neptune does not force; it reveals. And what it reveals now is the space where clarity must replace accommodation.
Around Neptune’s station, the world often gives sudden insights or unexpected shifts. Plans change. Opportunities appear or vanish. Conversations take surprising turns. Your thinking may quickly reorganize itself, as if your intuition suddenly comes into focus. These changes are not disruptions—they are messages. Neptune softens the atmosphere, Uranus sparks change, and Sedna awakens what has been sleeping for generations. Together, they reveal what was never truly stable and invite you into a more honest relationship with your own life.
Sagittarius fire rises in the sky, bringing movement, inspiration, and a rekindling of optimism. This is the feeling of life expanding again. You may feel ready to act, plan, or step forward after months of internal drift. Yet Neptune asks you to move slowly, to let enthusiasm settle before committing. Clarity is returning, but it is delicate at first—more like dawn than daylight.
The body acts as a powerful messenger during these transits. Many people notice Neptune’s influence through their nervous system—sleep patterns shift, digestion reacts, and subtle waves of tension or relaxation flow through the body. Trust your body before your mind; it often knows the truth first. Small grounding acts—such as breathing, eating warm food, resting, seeking solitude, and gentle movement—help anchor the emotional awakening happening inside you.
Emotionally, this is a caring and highly intuitive time. Dreams come to life. Memories surface like signals from an old chapter asking to be acknowledged. You may feel a tenderness toward yourself that wasn’t available before, or a surprising compassion for others, even those who have hurt you. Think of this as a cleansing tide. Everything emerging now is surfacing so you can move forward lighter, freer, and more complete.
As Saturn meets Neptune in the final degrees of Pisces, a 36-year cycle ends. Here, form merges with formlessness. Saturn shapes what Neptune dissolves. Their dance at the edge of the zodiac acts like a hinge between worlds—old ideals letting go, old ways of coping fading, old identities dissolving. What remains is something more immediate, more honest, and more spiritually grounded. This moment invites you to align your inner vision with your lived reality. Dreams must take shape. Boundaries must be refined. What once sustained you may no longer be the nourishment you need. This isn’t loss; it’s space-making for what is real.
Meanwhile, the rare conjunction of Uranus and Sedna continues to dissolve the deep. Sedna, ruler of ancestral memory and the long arc of reciprocity, awakens through Uranus’s electric strike. This is the moment when silence breaks, when old betrayals surface, and when truths long buried are spoken again. Both personally and collectively, this transit asks you to face what has been denied—not to punish, but to free. Sedna teaches that abundance flows only when the relationship with life is reciprocal, honest, and aligned. Uranus shows where that reciprocity has been broken. Together, they initiate the work of repair.
This awakening echoes through the collective consciousness, especially within the story of the United States. The nation’s karmic memories—land taken, labor exploited, voices suppressed—stir during this conjunction, and upheavals emerge in the media, courts, education, and public discourse. For individuals, this transit can challenge identity, security, or relationship dynamics. But beneath the upheaval is an undeniable call to integrity. Lightning strikes the frozen sea; the Sea Mother rises; silence transforms into speech.
Pluto, slow and relentless, keeps reshaping the collective field. You might feel a subtle urge to reevaluate your role in community, friendship, and shared purpose. Some connections feel complete; others seem inevitable. Authenticity is the new gravity. What aligns remains. What does not naturally falls away.
Throughout this process, you are being invited into a more embodied, refined truth. Neptune’s station is not just about lifting fog—it signifies the atmosphere itself shifting. Your intuition becomes sharper, not louder. Your emotions transform into teachers rather than burdens. Small realizations carry enormous power. What is now visible is not random; it is exactly what you are prepared to integrate.
This moment marks the start of a spiritual realignment. If you have lived too rigidly, life will soften you. If you have lived too fluidly, life will strengthen you. The balance point becomes clearer. You may quietly feel yourself maturing—your faith, your expectations, your capacity for love, your desire for alignment. You may feel called to simplify, let go, choose intentionally, and move toward what feels alive.
Connection matters more than ever. The soul navigates transition not only through insight but through relationships—the people who stay, the people who arrive, and the people whose season has ended. Trust these movements. They are part of your unfolding.
What’s emerging now is a truer version of you. You are becoming clearer about what matters, what no longer fits, and what your next chapter asks of you. The world may feel in motion, but you are not lost in it. Something inside you knows where you’re headed.
And if you let this cycle unfold naturally without forcing it, you might look back from a more stable future and realize that this was the turning point, the gentle opening of the path ahead, the moment when the fog cleared just enough for your soul to step forward and say: Now.
Since late November and into early January, Vesta travels with Astraea through Capricorn, with their conjunction perfecting on December 15. This entire period has a tone of grounded honesty, the kind that makes it impossible to ignore what is real. Vesta, whose domain is self-authenticity, pulls us back toward the inner flame that refuses distortion. Under her influence, anything we’ve been doing out of obligation, habit, or self-betrayal begins to unravel. The psyche reaches a point where it simply can’t sustain what is false. Vesta always guides us back to ourselves.
Astraea, the archetype of justice and restored balance, steps forward with equal force. She reveals where something in our lives—or in the collective—has slipped out of alignment. Astraea doesn’t punish; she corrects. She brings the moment when you can no longer pretend not to see what you see, carry what isn’t yours, or uphold a structure that no longer reflects the truth. In Capricorn, she works on the level of architecture: the bones of your life, the systems you operate within, and the commitments you’ve made that require integrity to endure.
As these two archetypes move through Capricorn together, they combine self-authenticity with justice. The result is a kind of internal reckoning: recognizing that living truthfully is itself an act of justice, and that repairing what has been damaged is a form of self-respect. This transit naturally draws us back to unfinished commitments and long-delayed work. Capricorn offers no shortcuts; it demands clarity, seriousness, and the willingness to rebuild what must last. Anything held together by pretense or avoidance begins to show its cracks during this time.
On a personal level, this transit highlights where we’ve been out of sync with our authentic values. We recognize where we’ve over-given, spoken too little, or stayed too long in roles that dim our true selves. We also see where we need to renew our commitment—whether it’s projects, relationships, or inner work that hold real meaning and seek to be revived.
Collectively, the atmosphere moves toward accountability. The cultural and institutional structures, already strained, become more transparent about their weaknesses. Astraea highlights the imbalance; Vesta calls for authenticity; Capricorn insists on a plan grounded in reality.
Since the end of November through early January, this conjunction calls for honest reconstruction. It urges us to align our inner fire with the outer structure of our lives and to restore our choices to a true relationship with truth. This is justice, not as punishment but as realignment, a moment when the soul opts to live without compromise.
We are at an Erisian, catalytic turning point in history. It’s not about Donald Trump or just the next presidential election. It’s about the Earth itself and our duty as its protectors. Hidden behind the foggy curtain of the future, beyond what our senses can detect, we stand at a crucial moment—so vast that we can feel it beneath our feet, even if we cannot yet name it. This isn’t only a turning point in American history; it’s a key moment in the story of the planet. The air around us hums with a gentle electricity that once signaled the advance and retreat of massive ice sheets, the same sense of unease that marked the Younger Dryas. Eleven to twelve thousand years ago, this event cooled the Earth’s climate suddenly, and the world changed in a way that stunned all living things.
We are currently experiencing that kind of moment.
You can hear it in the tremors of our institutions, see it in the widening cracks across our social fabric, and feel it in the uneasy pulse of our economic systems—structures that once felt solid now sway like tall grass in a rising wind. The ways of life we once believed to be permanent have become thin, translucent, like old paint beginning to peel. The familiar rhythms of work, commerce, governance, and community no longer align with the deeper forces reshaping the ground beneath them. Something older is awakening. Something larger is turning over in its sleep.
Environmentally, the Earth is speaking in a language we can no longer ignore. Storms carry an ancient intensity. Oceans remember their power. Forests burn with mythic heat. The seasons have fallen from their old boundaries, drifting across the calendar like restless spirits. Each year sends a quiet message: the world is changing at a pace that rivals the great shifts of prehistory.
Socially, the frameworks that once organized human belonging are falling apart. The stories we inherited no longer hold weight. The identities that once gave us coherence are starting to crumble. We are living in a time when communities are dispersing and reshaping, and the lines between truth and belief blur under collective uncertainty. Beneath everything, something is awakening — an instinct that the old ways of knowing and connecting cannot guide us into the future.
Economically, we are nearing the end of an era based on extraction, growth, and the belief in unlimited expansion. The systems that once drove prosperity now face their own contradictions. Markets become nervous. Global supply chains falter. The structure of modern wealth shudders with instability, as if the world economy itself is gearing up for a new setup that is not yet fully clear.
All of this—social fracture, economic volatility, ecological upheaval—is not chaos. It is a transition. It is the deep, ancient process by which Earth recalibrates, and humanity adjusts with it. We are at a critical point similar to those that ended ice ages, uplifted continents, and altered civilizations. The old world is fading, and the new one has not yet appeared. In this in-between space of what was and what will be, we are being called to see differently, listen more closely, and recognize that history’s tectonic plates are shifting once again.
And we stand on the fault line—awake or about to be awakened.
The Taurus Full Moon on November 5, 2025, signals a pause in the rhythm of change — a moment when everything slows just enough for us to feel the pulse of what’s real. The Moon in Taurus calls us back to what is essential and life-giving, while the Sun in Scorpio draws from the depths, bringing hidden truths into the light. Scorpio compels what lies beneath the surface to reveal itself, not for possession but for transformation. Whatever rises in its field is stripped of pretense, purified by intensity, and reborn into a deeper truth. Taurus remains steady, giving form to what’s emerging. Together, they describe a cycle of renewal: release and embodiment, death and rebirth, the never-ending rhythm of life remaking itself.
This Full Moon isn’t isolated. It stems from the eclipses earlier this year, which marked pivotal moments in our collective journey. The Aries eclipse in March sparked the rise of individuality — the cry of I am. The Virgo eclipses in September brought refinement, teaching discernment and humility, highlighting the difference between devotion and control. The Pisces eclipse that followed dissolved boundaries, breaking down what separated us from spirit. These three phases — Aries fire, Virgo earth, Pisces water — set the stage for this Taurus Moon. Taurus, another earth sign, grounds it all into the body. It’s where awakening shifts from an idea to a lived experience — felt through the senses and anchored in reality.
The Moon’s trine to the South Node in Virgo reminds us of old habits of striving — the urge to fix, perfect, and prove ourselves. Those instincts once protected us, but now they can soften. We no longer need to perfect ourselves to feel worthy. Taurus encourages rest, stillness, and trust in life’s natural flow. What’s real doesn’t need to be controlled — it endures on its own.
Saturn and Neptune meet at the edge of the zodiac in the final degrees of Pisces. This signals the closing of an era — Saturn shaping form, Neptune dissolving it — an encounter of boundaries and infinity. Together, they reveal what it means to make spirit tangible and to give compassion a physical form. These last degrees of Pisces feel like the thinning edge of a dream, where endings become beginnings. Old faiths and ideals fade away. What remains is a direct connection — no intermediaries, just the living experience of the divine flowing through everything.
Chiron and Eris, still aligned in Aries, ignite with the fire of awakening. They reveal the wound of exclusion — the pain of being unseen — and the courage to stand in one’s own truth. Opposite Venus in Libra, this is a challenge to love honestly, to stop pretending harmony where there is none. Venus attracts through beauty, Eris disrupts through truth, and together they strip relationships down to their authentic core. True peace can only exist where truth is spoken.
Pluto’s first steps into Aquarius deepen this transformation. Pluto never just changes the surface; it rewrites the blueprint. Its process is the same one nature uses — the caterpillar dissolving inside the cocoon. Nothing of the old structure survives, yet the essence remains. The creature that crawled now has wings. Humanity is in that same phase of metamorphosis. The structures of power and identity that once defined us are breaking down so that something freer and more interconnected can take shape. We are learning, collectively, to live as one body of consciousness.
Meanwhile, Uranus newly in Gemini sparks fresh ways of thinking, while Mars in Sagittarius searches for the bigger story. Their opposition creates tension between idea and belief, between revelation and conviction. It’s the friction that broadens awareness and pushes it into new areas.
This Taurus Full Moon brings all of this into a single experience. It stabilizes the body while the soul continues its transformation. Taurus teaches that stability doesn’t mean stillness — it’s the strength to stay centered as everything evolves. What started with Aries fire, was refined through Virgo discernment, and dissolved in Pisces surrender, now becomes embodied. We live it, breathe it, walk it.
The message is simple and enduring: what is real will remain. What is no longer needed will fall away. Change is not loss; it is life renewing itself. The Earth keeps turning, and so do we — remade again and again in the quiet rhythm of becoming.
In the fall of 2001, I was living in Scottsdale, Arizona—a sunny, comfortable suburb just north of Phoenix. Life was stable then. I worked as a freelance computer technician, one of those rare individuals fluent in both Mac and Windows. Most of my days involved troubleshooting complex systems, bringing reluctant machines back to life. It was practical, grounding work.
One afternoon, I received a service call from a woman who lived farther north, in the town of Carefree. The name alone felt like an invitation. Her home was unlike anything I had ever seen—and I had seen plenty. I grew up in the affluent suburbs of northern New Jersey and spent my youth traveling through France and England with my family’s antique import business. I’d wandered through old chateaus and stone cottages, through rooms filled with the weight of centuries. But this was different.
Her house was built around towering granite monoliths—sacred standing stones, massive and unmoving, the bones of the Earth itself. They rose up through the floors as if the walls had grown around them. I could feel the hum of the place, a vibration older than anything I understood.
While I worked on her computer, she told me she was close with members of the Hopi tribe and that they had given her permission to build on this sacred land. Then she showed me something they had shared— a message, she said, from the Elders. I listened quietly as she read it aloud.
“You have been telling people that this is the Eleventh Hour. Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour. And there are things to be considered…
Where are you living? What are you doing? What are your relationships? Are you in right relation? Where is your water? Know your garden. It is time to speak your truth. Create your community. Be good to each other. And do not look outside yourself for your leader.
There is a river flowing now, very fast. Those who cling to the shore will suffer greatly. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you, and celebrate. Take nothing personally, least of all yourselves. The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves. Banish the word struggle from your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.“
Message from the Hopi Elders–June 8, 2001
The words planted in me like a seed. I couldn’t have named it at the time, but something stirred—a sense that the course of my life was about to shift.
Before Arizona, I had lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Back then, I was just starting out as a technician, still learning and hustling for clients. The work was inconsistent, and the income was tight. I left reluctantly, telling myself Phoenix offered better opportunities. But Santa Fe had always felt sacred to me. There’s something about that land—its red dust, its thin air, the way light falls across the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The city feels alive, like it’s breathing beneath your feet. I knew I’d left a part of myself there.
Then came 9/11.
I grew up with people who worked in those towers. Friends from high school, neighbors from childhood. Even two thousand miles away, I could feel the collapse reverberate through the bones of everyone I knew. The morning unfolded like a slow nightmare. Smoke, ash, disbelief. For one fleeting moment, however, the five boroughs of New York, and the three states of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut, became one heartbeat—a single community united in grief and courage.
A few nights later, I had a dream. I don’t remember if it was the following day or the day after, only that it shook me to my core. I saw military checkpoints on the highways, soldiers stopping cars and scanning papers. There was fear in the air, and I woke up in a cold sweat. I turned to my wife and said, “We have to go back to Santa Fe.”
She looked at me, half-asleep, and said, “If one of us can find a job there, we’ll go.”
Within days, she got a call from a friend in Santa Fe offering her a position. Just like that. The river had spoken.
When we recognize the current that’s meant for us, life begins to move differently—not without bumps, but with a kind of invisible guidance. Santa Fe called me home, and I have lived here ever since.
My dream, in its own way, has come true. The world increasingly resembles the one I saw that night—monitored, divided, and afraid. Still, Santa Fe remains a place where the barriers are thin, where spirit feels close to the surface. Over the years, my life here has taken on a new shape. I became a certified Evolutionary Astrologer, started working with clients worldwide, and—after years of study, vision, and rewriting—published my first book.
That book is about Eris, the planet discovered in 2004—the celestial disruptor whose arrival threw both astronomy and astrology into chaos. Her discovery made scientists rethink what it means to be a planet and led to Pluto being dethroned. True to her myth, Eris brought chaos, but also truth. She revealed what had been hidden beneath the surface of consensus, advocating for inclusion, equality, and honesty.
As I continue my work, I notice her influence everywhere. A major astrological cycle is happening in the United States—a series of alignments between Eris and Pluto that started quietly years ago and will grow stronger through the end of this decade. Its effects are clear: political division, social upheaval, the breaking apart of old systems and beliefs. Eris moves slowly—her orbit takes over 577 years—so her impact unfolds over generations. We are experiencing her storm now, and its ripples will last for centuries.
Since these alignments focus on the chart of the United States, the effects will be worldwide. America’s decisions resonate well beyond its borders. What occurs here will influence the future direction of the collective.
I often think back to that message from the Hopi Elders—the river, the letting go, the celebration. Maybe this is what they meant. Maybe we are being carried together into something vast and unstoppable, asked not to cling to the shore, but to trust the current that moves us forward.
After all, we are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
The New Moon on October 21, 2025, occurs at 28°21′ Libra—bathed in Libra’s light yet carrying Scorpio’s hidden fire. At the final degree of Libra, the archetype of balance and civility reaches its limit. The scales shake under the weight of what can no longer be politely ignored. A new cycle starts here, asking us to shift from civility to confrontation—from maintaining balance to embracing emotional honesty. What has been glossed over or postponed now demands truth.
Every New Moon carries a seed of new intention, and this one begins with the exhaustion of appearances. Libra’s gift of cooperation has reached its limits; the desire for depth, authenticity, and integrity now outweighs the need to please. The Sun and Moon together square Pluto in Aquarius and Jupiter in Cancer, and oppose Chiron and Eris in Aries. These forces strip away illusion. Pluto, newly in Aquarius, demands reform from the bones outward, while Chiron and Eris insist that the unhealed and unacknowledged be given voice. Evolution, at this moment, requires awakening from the trance of compromise.
The Libra New Moon holds a hidden complexity within its graceful light. Beneath its surface balance lies a Yod, that mystical geometry the ancients called “the Finger of God.” Here the Sun and Moon, joined at 28° Libra, form the apex of a subtle but powerful pattern with Uranus and Sedna in Gemini and the Saturn–Neptune conjunction in Pisces at its base. It is a configuration of spiritual refinement, a demand for integration between energies that seem to have little in common.
The sextile between Uranus–Sedna and Saturn–Neptune provides the underlying hum of possibility: revelation and awakening on one side, dissolution and responsibility on the other. Uranus and Sedna in Gemini crack open the collective mind, electrifying human awareness and releasing memories long frozen in the unconscious. Saturn and Neptune in Pisces dissolve boundaries and old belief systems, requiring that compassion find structure and that faith take tangible form. Both streams flow toward the Libra New Moon, where the pressure to reconcile them becomes undeniable.
At the apex, the Sun and Moon act as a point of calibration. Libra must find equilibrium not through avoidance but through intelligence of the heart. The New Moon becomes the instrument through which the soul learns to stand between awakening and surrender, between Uranian revelation and Neptunian release. The task is not to choose one over the other, but to learn how to balance freedom with faith, intellect with intuition, truth with empathy. The Yod operates as an initiatory current, refining consciousness through dissonance, forcing awareness to expand beyond duality.
Collectively, this pattern mirrors the state of the world. Humanity is caught between the rapid acceleration of information and technology on one hand, and the erosion of spiritual certainty on the other. Libra, the archetype of justice and cooperation, must now mediate between these realms, seeking harmony not by restoring the old balance but by creating a new one. The scales of Libra, under the weight of Uranus and Neptune, measure not agreement but truth itself—what remains real as the world’s myths and systems of meaning dissolve.
For individuals, this Yod can feel like a quiet but relentless tension, a sense of standing between two realities that both demand your allegiance. You may find yourself pulled between understanding and faith, analysis and surrender, clarity and mystery. The pressure to reconcile opposites can be uncomfortable, but this is precisely where evolution occurs. The New Moon in Libra becomes a mirror for this work, reminding us that peace is not stasis but dynamic harmony, born through continual adjustment. The equilibrium this lunation offers is not the balance of still water, but the grace of a dancer—poised, aware, and perpetually in motion.
The deeper meaning of this Yod is initiatory. It trains the psyche for the world that is coming—the one Pluto in Aquarius and the Eris–Pluto squares will soon make unavoidable. It teaches that consciousness must hold paradox without collapsing, that love must be intelligent, and that truth must be kind. The Libra New Moon at the apex of this configuration refines our relational intelligence, showing that the art of living now depends on our ability to remain centered amid the meeting of awakening and dissolution.
In this moment, the heavens compose a triad that whispers the next step of evolution: think with the heart, dream with discipline, and find beauty within contradiction. The Yod’s tension is not a punishment but a blessing—it points to the delicate art of balance that defines this New Moon. Through it, Libra’s light becomes a bridge between worlds, guiding us toward a peace that can hold both the clarity of the mind and the compassion of the soul. Collectively, this lunar cycle carries revolutionary energy. The last passing of Pluto through Aquarius coincided with the late eighteenth century—the beginning of modern democracy, the rise of new rights and revolutions, and the fall of empires.
Humanity now faces another pivotal moment. The square from the Sun and Moon to Pluto highlights the tension between freedom and control, innovation and authority. Old hierarchies are crumbling. Systems built to protect privileges are weakening under the force of consciousness itself. The opposition to Chiron and Eris reveals the anger of the marginalized and the bravery of the awakened—echoes of the same archetypal rebellion that will shape the coming years of the Eris–Pluto squares. Truth is gaining momentum, and it will not be silenced.
Venus, the ruler of this New Moon, sits gracefully in her own sign at 9° Libra. She represents the heart of the matter—the reminder that harmony is born not from avoidance, but from courage. True balance requires self-awareness. We cannot meet others on equal footing if we are not rooted in our own truth. Venus urges us to revive the art of beauty as medicine—music, kindness, and reverence as acts of resistance in a divided world. She invites us to shed the mask of politeness and meet one another with the deep presence that Scorpio demands.
Mercury and Mars, conjunct at 20° Scorpio, hone the collective dialogue to a razor’s edge. Words cut straight to the core. Conversations pierce through pretense. This conjunction can heal or hurt, depending on whether we speak from our shadows or from our courage. It is an ideal time for therapy, investigation, and truth-telling—but not for projection or retribution. The soul’s task now is to let communication become a form of alchemy, transforming what festers in silence into something real, conscious, and freeing.
Pluto’s alignment with Pallas Athene in early Aquarius brings intelligence and strategy to this ongoing transformation. Pallas recognizes patterns; Pluto grants them power. Together, they symbolize the redesign of civilization itself. Governments, technologies, and social systems are being reformed from within, and this New Moon calls for participation. The new paradigm will not come from above — it must be created through awareness, the courage to think differently, and the willingness to act in harmony with the soul.
Neptune at 0° Aries, retrograde, quietly works in the background, dissolving the illusions of the Piscean age and preparing us for a new myth—one of spiritual embodiment rather than spiritual escape. Saturn’s conjunction with the North Node in Pisces adds weight to the ideal: compassion must be disciplined, empathy must take shape. Dreams now require effort. The evolutionary challenge is to practice spiritual maturity—holding love and boundaries as one.
At the same time, Uranus joins Sedna at the threshold of Gemini, striking lightning into the ice. Sedna, the deep memory of the Earth and the frozen trauma of the collective, awakens as Uranus electrifies the mind. Ancient knowledge begins to thaw. The human nervous system—individual and collective—is recalibrating to understand connection on a scale we’ve never known. This is the awakening of memory, the rediscovery of truth long submerged beneath denial.
On a personal level, this lunation reflects a mirror. Where have you been pretending to be at peace while silencing yourself? Where have you mistaken compliance for love? The evolutionary invitation is shadow integration—to identify the fear of conflict, confront what intimacy demands, and trust that what is genuine will endure. Relationships can deepen now if honesty leads the way. The world, too, is being asked to confront itself—moving from reaction to responsibility, from blame to transformation.
To align with this New Moon, let discomfort guide you. What unsettles you highlights what is ready for change. Look beyond surface appearances. Speak truthfully, but with compassion. Reach out where you once pulled away. The soul grows, not through avoidance, but through presence. Every act of authenticity—no matter how small—is a step toward liberation.
This New Moon marks the boundary between worlds—the twilight of one era and the dawn of another. The final degree of Libra concludes a chapter based on performance; the Scorpio influence beneath it opens a gate to truth. The balance we’ve maintained through denial is giving way to a deeper sense of equilibrium grounded in integrity. The world is shifting from superficiality to substance, from mere agreement to genuine authenticity.
As the light of the old order fades, something fierce and luminous stirs beneath the surface. The wounded and the silenced begin to speak. The strategist awakens within the reformer. The frozen mind of history starts to thaw. And Venus, serene amid the upheaval, reminds us that beauty and justice remain our compass.
This New Moon signifies not an ending but a new beginning—a seed of transformation planted in the fading light of Libra, ready to take root in Scorpio soil. Its message is timeless: truth is not the enemy of peace; it is the foundation of peace. We are being called to let illusion die so something lasting—authentic, inclusive, and alive—can take its place. In the language of the soul, this is the moment when love itself evolves, and peace is redefined as the courage to be authentic.
Eris: Sacred Feminine Force of Evolutionary Astrology is the first in-depth examination of Eris through Jeffrey Wolf Green’s Evolutionary Astrology. Usually viewed as a goddess of chaos and discord, Eris is presented here as a potent force for personal and global evolution-exposing shadows, demanding honesty, and urging the soul toward transformation.
Daniel Fiverson draws on decades of experience in the JWG tradition for this groundbreaking study. With mythic grounding, historical context, and detailed chart analysis, he explains how Eris functions in the natal chart, through transit, and within relationship dynamics. Each chapter presents Eris as an essential archetype-one that clarifies unresolved desires, illuminates the evolutionary path, and calls for acknowledging what has been denied or marginalized. For practicing astrologers, this book expands the interpretive framework of Evolutionary Astrology and offers practical tools for working with clients. For students of the tradition, it provides a dynamic transmission of the Pluto-node method, now strengthened by Eris’s unwavering voice.
Eris does not comfort; she confronts. She is not an outsider; she has taken her seat at the table. In these pages, you will learn how to interpret her presence in the chart-and why no evolutionary reading is complete without her.
I have signed copies that you can order directly from me.
Eris: Sacred Feminine Force of Evolutionary Astrology by Daniel Fiverson (Wessex Astrologer, 2025) by Philip Graves
Those of you who were active in the online astrological community in the early 2000s will surely remember much chatter about and great excitement surrounding the ongoing discoveries of previously unknown minor solar system planetoids orbiting beyond the orbit of Neptune, collectively known as Trans-Neptunian Objects. Several of them had already been identified as being only a fraction smaller than Pluto, whose discovery in 1930 predated those of all other celestial bodies in this category by several decades. Was it not then only a matter of time before a discovery to rival Pluto in stature would challenge Pluto’s traditional status as the only true planet orbiting our Sun beyond the reach of Neptune?
We did not have to wait all that much longer for such a claim to be announced in the form of the discovery of Eris in January 2005. Based on astronomers’ initial estimates derived from their observations, it was suspected of being fractionally larger than Pluto. Although these estimates were downwardly revised a few years later, leading to a settled belief in its diameter being around 2326 km, compared with Pluto’s diameter of 2376.6 km, even the final estimate makes it 97.9% as large as Pluto. But in the light of the initial belief that Eris fractionally exceeded Pluto in size, the question arose among astronomers of how Pluto’s unique status as the planet beyond Neptune could possibly be maintained? In the light of the discovery of Eris, this was no longer astronomically tenable. Either Eris would have to be declared a planet too, or the previously unthinkable would be required – Pluto would need to be downgraded in status to a planetoid.
The following year, in 2006, the International Astronomical Union went ahead with downgrading Pluto in status, declaring it a ‘dwarf planet’, a new category in which Eris was also placed and to which Ceres, previously declared an asteroid, was at the same time upgraded.
Many astrologers were aghast at the perceived demotion in status of Pluto, and some have campaigned to have it reinstated as a full planet ever since. But in the meantime, others have cannily taken time to study Eris in its own right with an open mind; and in the two decades since 2005, several dedicated books and booklets on astrological Eris have been published, much as was the case with Pluto in the two decades following its discovery. Additionally, several others have given major prominence to Eris although without making it their sole focus.
In chronological order, these have included:
1. ‘Starry Messengers’ by Alison Chester-Lambert (2009) [chapter on Eris]
2. ‘Yankee Doodle Discord: A Walk with Planet Eris through USA History’ by Thomas Canfield (2010)
3. ’Eris, Goddess of Discord: Who is She, and What Does She Mean in Your Chart?’ by Thomas Canfield (2012)
4. ‘Discovering Eris: the Symbolism and Significance of a New Planetary Archetype’ by Keiron Le Grice (2012)
5. ’Inviting Eris to the Party: Our Provocateur in Unfair Affairs’ by Amy Shapiro (2014)
6. ‘The Tenth Planet: Revelations from the Astrological Eris’ by Henry Seltzer (2015)
7. ‘More Plutos’ by Sue Kientz (2015)
8. ‘Eris’ by Carol Reimer (2018)
9. ‘Brother Pluto, Sister Eris’ by Thomas Canfield (2018)
10. ‘Asteroids in Astrology 1: Centaurs, Damocloids, Scattered Disc Objects’ by Benjamin Adamah (2019) [3 densely printed pages on Eris]
11. ‘New Stars for a New Era’ by Alan Clay (2024) [long chapter on Eris]
Fiverson’s new book ‘Eris: Sacred Feminine Force of Evolutionary Astrology’, published by Wessex Astrologer, is the first title I’m aware of to purposely integrate Eris into the evolutionary astrology approach – specifically the Jeffrey Wolf Green school of evolutionary astrology.
As anyone familiar with Jeff Green’s first three books will know, two out of three of them were specifically on Pluto (Volume 1 in 1985; Volume 2 in 1997), with the one published in between the two (1988) being on Uranus. Thus, he made Pluto a major focus of his novel (in its heyday, that is – it is of course now well-established) astrological system. Is it not logical to suppose that within the context of his school of evolutionary astrology, if Pluto is that important, other large Transneptunian Objects should also be significantly powerful?
Fiverson’s book begins with several scene-setting short chapters on different topics including The Astronomy of Eris, The Mythology of Eris and The Astrology of Eris. Then there is a section exploring Eris’s cycles in relation to both Pluto and Neptune. Next, a variety of mundane astrological topics are briefly considered in terms of the influence and symbolism of Eris, before the rest of the book is focused on reading Eris in the birth chart. This section begins with a succinct look at Eris in aspect to the natal planets, but the bulk of the space is given over to multi-page delineations of Eris in each of the twelve houses, with each one supported by multiple lengthy case studies of Eris’s natal house placement in the charts of famous people. The author makes a conscientious choice not to delineate Eris through the signs, pointing out that: ‘because Eris has a 577-year orbit, everyone on the planet today was born with Eris in Aries’.
Without the case studies, the house delineations would run to about two pages each, but it is the case studies that pad this material out into a much fuller book than would otherwise be the case. For example, under Eris in the 1st house, we find just over 1½ pages of delineation followed by 12½ pages of case studies spanning three well-known public figures.
The inclusion of these lengthy worked nativities will surely add considerable interest in this book for astrologers who love to study the lives of cultural icons astrologically. Fiverson places a significant focus on the impact of Eris in the houses in each of these case studies, but as part of an integrated picture of the birth chart as a whole.
This book is an original and dedicated contribution to the growing astrological literature on Eris, and comes as recommended reading for astrologers in three categories: all who are curious to include Eris in their readings in a sensitive and balanced way or who have already read other sources on its astrological uses and want to blend in another opinion; evolutionary astrologers in particular (although not exclusively); and all who enjoy reading originally written worked case studies of famous people by sincere astrological thinkers.
When we speak of Uranus and Sedna meeting in the sky, we are describing a moment so rare that it will not happen again in our lifetime. Sedna moves with the slow pace of deep time, tracing her orbit over eleven thousand years. Uranus, the awakener, whose cycle is eighty-four years, only briefly aligns with her in this century. When Uranus touches Sedna, it is as if lightning strikes the ice. A sudden electric current runs through something frozen, awakening material buried deep in the collective unconscious. This is not a casual alignment. It is an epochal threshold, opening chambers of memory and necessity that span millennia.
Sedna’s cycle is so vast—spanning over eleven thousand years—that Uranus, with its quick 84-year orbit, has never before crossed her path in human history as we know it. The first signal of this encounter started in May 2023, when Uranus reached 29° Taurus and entered Sedna’s orb. This critical, anaretic degree served as a warning: the last degree of Taurus indicates culmination, crisis, and decision, and in Sedna’s domain, it sounded an alarm about survival, values, and our connection with the Earth. At that moment, Uranus’s lightning struck Sedna’s deep, frozen ocean, and the process of thawing began.
Sedna, as she is known in Inuit traditions, was betrayed—first by false promises of marriage, then by her own father, who cast her into the sea, cutting off her fingers as she clung to the kayak. Those severed fingers became creatures of the ocean, and Sedna herself became the Mother of the Deep, ruler of the seas whose spirit must be appeased if hunters are to receive abundance. Her myth is one of betrayal and severance. Still, it also carries the sacred responsibility of reciprocity—teaching that when we take from nature without reverence, we disconnect ourselves from the very source of life.
In astrology, Sedna represents the cold, slow-moving truths of abandonment, ecological reciprocity, and ancestral memory buried deep beneath the surface. Uranus, the great awakener and iconoclast, is the lightning bolt that strikes the ice. When Uranus meets Sedna, old frozen betrayals are jolted awake. Silence is broken, secrets long entombed surface, and personal, ancestral, and collective wounds demand to be spoken and addressed.
The conjunction will perfect at 01° Gemini in May 2026, and its influence will extend until May 2029. This gives us a six-year corridor in which the world is saturated with the electricity of this union. The transition from Taurus into Gemini is symbolically vital. In Taurus, the lessons revolve around survival, resources, money, land, and the body of the Earth. The crisis is whether we will continue to exploit or whether we will finally restore reciprocity. The fact that Uranus activated Sedna at 29° Taurus in 2023 makes this confrontation urgent, undeniable, and global in nature.
As the conjunction moves into Gemini and intensifies there, the archetype shifts. Gemini rules communication, networks, thought processes, and storytelling. Sedna’s myth has always centered on silence—what happens when betrayal remains unspoken and pain is hidden deep. Uranus in Gemini, conjunct Sedna, encourages storytelling, promotes communication of betrayals, and creates new networks of speech, media, and law to express long-suppressed truths. The period from 2026 to 2029, coinciding with the nine squares of Eris to US Pluto, will underscore this need: to bring the frozen memory of betrayal into language and awareness.
Collectively, this transition has significant implications. For the planet, it signals ecological tipping points—climate shocks, rising seas, and oceans as both literal and symbolic sites of upheaval. It could spur rapid innovations in technology, renewable energy, communication systems, and ecological science. But at its core, the message is the same as in the Inuit myth: when the Sea Mother is betrayed, abundance is withheld. Only when reciprocity is restored, only when we honor the source of life, will abundance return.
The United States July 6, 1775 chart strongly resonates with this conjunction. Sedna’s activation by Uranus across the cusp of Taurus and Gemini energizes the nation’s karmic debts. These are the betrayals woven into our founding: the theft of indigenous land, the enslavement of Africans, the silencing of women, and the Earth itself. As Uranus and Sedna perfect in Gemini, they activate America’s Mercury in Leo, igniting the country’s voice, its laws, its press, its courts, and its education systems. Expect upheavals in media, law, and politics; expect the stories that have long been buried to surface in the collective conversation. In evolutionary terms, this is the United States being compelled to confront its karmic shadow, to speak the truth, and to restore balance.
For individuals, the experience varies depending on where this transit occurs in their natal chart and their level of personal development. For some, the transit often feels like disruption, chaos, and shock. In the first house, it can shake identity itself; in the second, it affects security and finances; in the third, it revolves around siblings and communication; in the fourth, it concerns family and home; in the fifth, it influences creativity and children; in the sixth, it impacts health and work; in the seventh, it relates to partnerships; in the eighth, it involves shared resources and sexuality; in the ninth, it deals with beliefs and law; in the tenth, it concerns vocation; in the eleventh, it pertains to community; and in the twelfth, it involves the unconscious. The ego resists these shocks, clinging to familiar patterns even as they collapse.
On an individual level, this conjunction will be experienced in various ways. For some, it arrives as chaos, disruption, and destabilization. In the first house, it can shake the sense of identity itself; in the second, it unsettles finances and security; in the fourth, it undermines family foundations; in the seventh, it destabilizes partnerships. In such moments, the ego naturally clings to what feels familiar, even as those structures begin to collapse.
For others, the same transit may be recognized as an awakening. The betrayals it uncovers are painful, yet they release the Soul from denial. The shocks still pierce, but they also crack the shell of conditioning. Where old values collapse, new values rooted in reciprocity emerge. Where relationships end, new patterns of partnership take shape — freer, less bound by control or manipulation.
And for some, the experience deepens further, becoming a kind of initiation. Sedna’s myth is no longer just a story from the past but an eternal archetype of betrayal, abandonment, and renewal. These experiences are seen as karmic necessities, stripping away illusion and opening the Soul to compassion and service. Uranus electrifies the frozen ocean of memory, and the Sea Mother rises to speak. At this level, the transit is not disruption alone but also grace — a call into alignment with truth, into the sacred work of repair, and into restoring reciprocity with the Earth and with one another.
Between 2023 and 2029, humanity stands at the threshold of myth. Lightning strikes ice. Betrayal sparks awakening. Silence gives way to speech. The Sea Mother’s story is our story, and her demand is apparent: only when her hair is combed, only when reciprocity is restored, will abundance return. For the United States and the world, the Uranus–Sedna conjunction is nothing less than a collective rite of passage, forcing us to confront truths as vast and enduring as Sedna’s orbit itself.
On September 7, 2025, the Moon at 15° Pisces swells to fullness and is obscured by the Earth’s shadow, turning its silver face into a veil of blood and shadow. This total lunar eclipse is a cosmic drama where endings, revelations, and reckonings unfold — not quietly, but loudly. In opposition to the Moon, the Sun at 15° Virgo aligns closely with the South Node, symbolizing old certainties — addiction to order, systems, control, and the comfort of known security. Yet, even as it insists on its clean lines and perfect analysis, it cannot prevent the unraveling. The Moon, connected to the North Node in Pisces, pulls us toward an unfamiliar horizon, where security is unknown; into dissolution, into waters of compassion where boundaries dissolve, reminding us that our essence is not defined by order or status, but by connection to the vast, mysterious whole. This eclipse demands a choice: do we stay chained to the technical fixes of Virgo, tinkering as the world burns, or do we allow the tide of Pisces to carry us into imagination, mercy, and a faith that does not require control?
But this eclipse is powerful. It arrives with a roar from deep within. Pluto, now in Aquarius but retrograde, moves through a tight, challenging angle to the Moon, pressing on the collective psyche like a hand on an unhealed wound. Shadows emerge. Power can’t stay hidden. Pluto, the ruler of the underworld, squares Eris at 25° Aries with intense force. Here, the conflict deepens: Pluto’s established systems of power, secrecy, and control clash with Eris, the goddess of strife, the voice of the marginalized, the one who refuses to stay hidden. Eris is no longer just an uninvited guest; she’s throwing her golden apple into the banquet halls of nations, challenging us to confront who belongs, who’s excluded, and why.
The “Nine Gates”—the unprecedented sequence of nine exact squares from transiting Eris in Aries to the United States’ natal Pluto in Capricorn that will occur between 2026 and 2030. Their echoes will surely persist, urging the nation to face its shadow and neglected voices. This eclipse marks their beginning.
At this moment, the other gods stand in attendance. Neptune has entered Aries, a newborn water god wearing fire as a crown. Behind him, Saturn lingers at the last degree of Pisces, dissolving authority and certainty—a once-rigid pillar now adrift in the sea. Their conjunction signifies a transition from the old to the new: the dismantling of centuries-old structures and the rise of an undefined, potential-filled vision. Uranus, fully electrified at the first degree of Gemini, harmoniously receives Neptune’s fire, sparking revolutions in thought, communication, and technology. This is the sky where myth and technology blend—the digital oracle and the prophet’s dream clashing into a new, unstable truth.
We can already see it: artificial intelligence replacing human voice and thought, raising questions about authorship, creativity, and what truly defines the human voice. Elections are influenced by algorithms and digital misinformation. A climate gone wild, with fires in the West, hurricanes along the coasts, and floods drowning once-fertile plains. Trials are unfolding in American courts where the powerful confront justice, and the legitimacy of institutions is cracking under pressure. The eclipse reflects this precisely. Mercury, linked to the South Node in Virgo wrenched in a hard angle by Uranus, highlights the fragility of facts: the corruption of the word, and the breakdown of trust in systems of governance and media. Mars in Libra squares Jupiter in Cancer, echoing the fiery clash between justice and nationalism, diplomacy and protectionism. In the headlines, we see it: massive protests demanding accountability, governments scrambling to shore up their questioned authority, voices raised in protest that will not be silenced.
Eris, standing with Chiron in Aries, throws salt on the wound of exclusion. What has been pushed to the margins, repressed, or scapegoated won’t stay silent. The cry of the wounded outsider becomes a clarion call. Jupiter’s square to Eris amplifies this demand: legal battles, ideological clashes, and moral confrontations surface. Pluto’s square also makes the conflict unavoidable—no more evasion, no more delay. The nine gates are opening.
For the United States, this eclipse runs deep. The U.S. Moon at 20° Libra is stirred by Mars and Eris, fueling a restless, angry population into upheaval. The U.S. Sun at 14° Cancer is caught in Jupiter’s expansion, but instead of bringing relief, it heightens conflict, creating tension between national identity and international responsibilities. It is the struggle between Pluto’s deep-rooted power and Eris’s rising cry demanding to be heard that challenges the foundation of American authority and forces the nation to confront its buried contradictions.
Uranus in Gemini energizes the natal Uranus of 1775, destabilizing media, elections, and the entire nervous system of the republic. Already, debates about censorship, digital surveillance, and free speech are rumbling like thunder before a storm.
With Neptune retrograde and moving away from Saturn, the nation is caught between dissolving structures and the loss of certainty. The dream wavers, and with it, the old wounds of violence and identity resurface: the nation’s revolutionary roots, its wars, and its ongoing struggle over what freedom really means and who it belongs to. Disillusionment, anger, and despair simmer among the people — yet even in this decline, a quiet awakening is growing, suggesting that freedom can be reimagined beyond the old myths.
This eclipse is more than just a shadow on the Moon. It signals the prelude to a grand square dance between Eris and Pluto, with nine exact squares occurring between 2026 and 2030. Each one strikes at the foundation of the empire, demanding truth, inclusion, and transformation. As climate disasters worsen, AI reshapes the fabric of work and speech, and as the trials of leaders and tests of democracy escalate into crises, the gates will open wider and wider. What begins here is not just a passing storm but the start of a new era.
This eclipse does more than close a chapter; it shatters the spine of the old book. It cracks the collective vessel, spilling what has been hidden into the open. It exposes the futility of control and the need for surrender. It reveals wounds unhealed, power unmasked, voices rising from the margins.
It warns us of the path ahead, when humanity must decide who it is, what it values, and whether it can include the excluded without tearing itself apart.
The Moon in Pisces indicates a start of wisdom, showing that compassion can hold what control cannot. Still, Pluto and Eris roar back: mercy won’t come until the truth is faced, exclusion is acknowledged, and the shadows we hide become visible. The eclipse is a call. The Nine Gates are opening. And there’s no turning back.
Virgo Partial Solar Eclipse
Two weeks later, on September 21, 2025, a partial solar eclipse occurs at 29° Virgo. The earlier Virgo lunar eclipse had already revealed the shadow of perfectionism—the cost of trying to master chaos through relentless systems, rules, and critique. Now, at the final degree of the sign and aligned with the South Node, Virgo reaches its edge. What once felt like strain becomes the threshold of release. At 29°, the impulse to control gives way to a gentler truth: that wholeness does not come from perfection but from surrender. This eclipse opens the possibility of renewal, inviting us to move beyond exhaustion into clarity, compassion, and a wiser order yet to be born.
The eclipse says: you can’t fix your way out of this. You can’t critique your way forward. The old script of Virgoan micromanagement has run its course. The 29th degree is a threshold where Virgo’s lessons boil down to one question: will you release the need to be perfect or stay stuck in the loop of trying?
Across the sky, Saturn and Neptune in Pisces oppose the eclipse, inviting us into a tide of surrender that does not erase but transforms. Saturn in Pisces teaches us the discipline of faith and the structures that can hold compassion. Neptune, recently into Aries, signals the birth of visionary will—a new era where imagination turns into action. Together, they draw us across the Virgo–Pisces axis, urging us to let the 29th degree be an ending and Pisces the start of a new story.
Pluto in Aquarius forms a harmonious angle with the eclipse, assuring us that what we release personally contributes to collective rebirth. The 29th degree is never private; it reveals all that has happened before, resonating with history and the turning of the cosmic wheel of fortune. What you let go of now becomes the seed for the reinvention of the entire system.
The passage is raw. Eris and Chiron in Aries pierce the wound of authenticity, insisting that the fracture be faced. Mars, also cathartic at 29° Libra, urges us to find a balance between confrontation and fairness, while Jupiter in Cancer stirs the ancestral stories we carry. Yet even here, healing occurs through disruption. Venus in early Virgo whispers: refine without cruelty. Mercury in Libra promotes dialogue and balance, reminding us that truth can be spoken with grace. These are the medicines that help us cross the threshold not by breaking, but by opening.
In the chart for the United States1, this eclipse hits at the core. Just behind the U.S. Ascendant at 0° Libra and directly on U.S. Mars at 27° Virgo, it challenges the nation’s projection of power—military, industrial, and global. America’s Mars, the driving force behind national assertion, is eclipsed near the final degree, prompting questions about what must end and what new form of strength could emerge. The old way of wielding force cannot continue, but a wiser, more balanced expression is waiting on the other side of release.
The eclipse also touches U.S. Neptune at 20° Virgo, symbolizing the ideal of purity and the myth of exceptionalism. Under the shadow, these illusions waver. However, this unraveling opens space for a new vision: humility, service, and compassion as guiding principles. Transiting Saturn, conjunct Neptune and U.S. Neptune in Pisces, opposes each other from the 6th house, not erasing America’s sense of purpose but transforming it. They point toward a vision of service grounded not in control but in empathy—structures that can uphold compassion and institutions that can promote healing. The last time that this U.S. Neptune opposition occurred was in the years leading up to the Civil War.
Pluto at 1° Aquarius, retrograde, trines the eclipse and triggers the aftershocks of the recent Pluto return. Power structures are indeed breaking down, but not aimlessly. In Virgo’s focus on service, health, and environment, Pluto points toward reform that seeds a new Aquarian collective spirit. What dissolves here opens the way for reinvention.
Yes, the wound deepens. Eris and Chiron in Aries, joined at the hip, form a challenging aspect to the U.S. Libra Ascendant, raising questions of identity and belonging. Even these fractures hold the potential for healing. Eris emphasizes that silenced voices must be heard, while Chiron offers a path to integration through honesty and courage. The wound, once no longer ignored, becomes a gateway to inclusion.
With all the outer planets except Jupiter retrograde, this season calls for reflection. America revisits its history—old wars, injustices, ecological missteps—but not to dwell on the past. The eclipse encourages the nation to reevaluate its story so it can be rewritten. The Nine Gates of Reckoning will not only require confrontation but also offer a chance to reshape identity, truth, and power.
History affirms this rhythm. When Neptune last entered Aries in 1861, the Civil War shattered illusions but also marked the start of a new era of freedom. In the 1930s–40s, Neptune’s crossing of the Virgo–Pisces axis coincided with global conflict and economic collapse, yet it also brought about new international structures and a rebuilt world. Every threshold has required sacrifice, but each has sparked renewal. This eclipse indicates that America is once again at such a threshold: the end of an illusion and the beginning of a new vision waiting to emerge.
Together, the Virgo lunar and solar eclipses symbolize a period of release and realignment. The lunar eclipse revealed the futility of control; the solar eclipse now emphasizes that myths of mastery must give way to balance, compassion, and vision. For the United States, this is not a minor event—it hits the Ascendant, Mars, and Neptune, urging the nation to redefine power, myth, and identity. Yet the sky reminds us: what ends is not the dream of justice but its distortion. What dissolves is not vision itself but illusion.
The myth of Astraea, the virgin Roman goddess of justice, permeates this eclipse. In ancient stories, she left Earth when corruption became too widespread, ascending to the heavens as Virgo. However, her return was always anticipated. The eclipse at 29° Virgo marks not only her departure but also her call back to humanity: to pursue justice through balance, compassion, and right relationships rather than perfection. Simultaneously, Eris throws her golden apple, revealing divisions not to destroy but to bring truth into the open. Healing begins where fractures are recognized.
The Nine Gates of Reckoning, already within reach, demand courage—but they also hold the promise of renewal. As Eris and U.S. Pluto square again and again, the fractures of the old order will widen, yet in those very cracks lie the seeds of inclusion, healing, and rebirth. This eclipse season is not an ending but an invitation, a rehearsal for what is to come: a mirror showing us what must be released, and a promise of what can be born. At 29° Virgo, the final degree marks both a climax and a threshold. Behind us lies the exhausted paradigm of endless fixing; ahead stretches the Piscean sea of surrender and vision. To step through is to trust the tide, face the wound, and discover that even the smallest act of letting go becomes part of a greater transformation already underway.
We stand at the cliff’s edge. Behind us lies the worn-out paradigm of endless fixing; before us stretches the Piscean sea of surrender and vision. To step forward is to trust the tide, to face the wound, and to know that even the smallest act of letting go can help shape the collective transformation already underway. When we reach the limits of all we have known and step into the unknown, one of two things will happen: we will find solid ground, or we will discover that we can fly
1 The chart for the United States that I use, favored by Jim Lewis, is cast for July 6, 1775, Philadelphia, PA, 11:03 am LMT. This day and time correlates to the start of the American Revolution when the Second Continental Congress passed an act to “bear arms” against Great Britain, created a standing army, and named George Washington as Commander-in-Chief.
When a planet falls in the first decan—the first ten degrees of its sign—it signals a beginning. Something is being born there. These are energies in the process of becoming. In Evolutionary Astrology, the first decan reflects a soul still finding its footing, feeling out the terrain by touch, instinct, and direct experience. It’s initiatory. It’s raw. And it doesn’t yet know where it’s going—but it knows it can’t stay where it was.
Right now, seven planets are in the early degrees of their signs. When we observe these first-decan planets in the outer world, we’re not just analyzing individual charts. We’re witnessing the sky itself guiding us into new territory. These planetary positions indicate a global initiation—a collective soul expanding, burning, stumbling, and awakening all at once.
The Sun in Cancer (0°–10°) Something deep within the world is turning inward, longing for home—not just a shelter, but a true sense of belonging. This Cancer Sun signals the first cries of a new emotional cycle. We’re rediscovering what it means to truly feel. But feeling doesn’t come easily in a world designed to numb us. This Sun highlights a return of care, kinship, and ancestral wisdom—but we’re still learning how to support each other. It’s gentle, and it’s just starting.
The Moon in Gemini (0°–10°) is turning emotion into language. But with the Moon so early in Gemini, it’s more questions than answers. The world is flooded with information—tweets, texts, AI voices, data streams—and beneath it all, the emotional body is trying to connect. This Moon shows a collective need to talk things out—to think through our feelings and feel through our thoughts. We’re exploring how to stay connected in a fractured, fast-paced world.
Mars in Virgo (0°–10°) brings a new intention focused on healing and repair. Mars in early Virgo doesn’t act impulsively; it observes, fine-tunes, and questions its motives. This is a drive to do what’s right, even if the path isn’t clear. We see it in movements that demand accountability, environmental restoration, and practical reform. There’s a sense of urgency here, but it’s grounded in conscience. This Mars is learning to serve without martyrdom and to act with integrity, not just efficiency.
Jupiter in Cancer (0°–10°) Faith is moving into the waters of memory. With Jupiter so early in Cancer, the collective seeks meaning in the past: in ancestry, land, blood, and bone. There’s a hunger for emotional truth and spiritual nourishment that isn’t abstract but felt. However, the risk is nostalgia that turns into fear. The evolutionary invitation here is to grow through empathy—to make the personal sacred again, not as a retreat but as renewal.
Saturn in Aries (0°–10°) is shaping a new sense of self. It’s raw. It’s untested. It falls and then gets back up. The world is seeing the early stages of a new kind of authority—one built from courage, not control. This is where protest meets pressure, and self-determination becomes more than just a phrase. We’re learning how to lead from the core of our own being, not from reaction. Saturn here is building strength, one hard-earned step at a time.
Neptune in Aries (0°–10°) The dream is no longer passive; it’s igniting into flame. Neptune in Aries signals the end of suffering through sacrifice and the start of vision through action. We see spiritual uprisings, art as protest, and collective grief turning into collective will. But it’s still a raw energy—unclear, easily distorted, and prone to projection. Still, the call is genuine. The soul of the world is learning to burn clean: to channel the dream through the body and to stand for what it imagines.
Pluto in Aquarius (0°–10°) This marks the evolutionary frontier. With Pluto now in Aquarius, we are undergoing a profound transformation of the collective soul. Technology advances faster than consciousness, and systems of power are being reshaped—sometimes abruptly, sometimes subtly. The old ways are breaking down, and the new isn’t yet stable. We are experimenting with what it means to be human together. An ongoing revolution is happening—not just outside but within our own nervous systems. Pluto in Aquarius questions: can we be free and connected? Can we evolve without coming apart?
These are not energies that arrive fully formed. They’re in motion, in question, in process. The world right now is in its first decan of a new era—initiating, experimenting, searching for a future that isn’t yet shaped.
We’re not standing on solid ground. We are the ground being made. And evolution never waits for certainty.
They come not to break you, but to bless— not as a curse, but as consecration. The winds of change arrive like gods with open hands and a wild invitation.
They gather in your quiet places, stir the stillness with their song— a breath of life too vast to name, too sacred to be wrong.
Air, first to rise, surrounds your soul— it does not ask, it enters. It lifts the dust from long-lost dreams and fans your buried embers. It speaks: Breathe deep, beloved one, you are not meant to drown. This breath, this wind, this unseen force— it lifts, it moves, it crowns.
Then fire arrives with radiant grace, a sacred blaze of light. It burns away the fragile past and makes your spirit shine.
No flame will scorch what’s truly yours—it only clears space for who you are becoming in love’s warm embrace.
Water falls in silver sheets, a gentle and sacred tide. It flows through every open wound you’ve carried deep inside.
But this is not a storm of sorrow, rather a baptism, a balm — it carves a river through your life and leaves a calm behind.
At last, the earth welcomes you whole—no longer just a part. The ground is solid beneath your feet and rich in your heart. What has been uprooted can now grow, what is cracked can now hold—because you have passed through every gate and stand in truth once more.
So bless the wind, and bless the flame, the flood, the stone, the sky. You are the child of every change
