Dear reader,
It has been nearly two months since I’ve written. I needed some space. When I sat down to write, my words felt forced and uninspired. The end of 2023 hit me hard. I was exhausted and didn’t feel like myself. I’m a child of the Sun. My loved ones affirm I’m a beam of light and warmth. At the end of the year, my fire was extinguished, leaving me with coals to tend to.
Looking back, I see how powerful the October lunar eclipse and November Mars cazimi were. The full, eclipsed Moon conjoined my Sun in Taurus, and Mars and the Sun conjoined my Pluto in Scorpio. I questioned who I was and my path in life. Old wounds resurfaced. I lost all desire, hope, and inspiration. I became riddled with anxiety and catastrophizing thoughts. I was in a dark place and withdrew from the outside world.
To feel fully alive, I need a vision to strive for. My heart longs to build a more caring and loving world. When I lose belief in this vision, I sink to the bottom of the ocean. In January, a friend lent me Wintering by Katherine May, and the book served as a mirror. It helped me accept my depression rather than fight it. Dormancy is a normal response to winter and a natural cycle of life. As I age, I become more attuned to the subtle shifts of the seasons, and my body demands I follow their lead.
This winter, I tended the coals within, nurturing them through rituals of care. Tuesday evenings became an anchor. In November, Heart Circle was a group of strangers, and today it's a community of care. Every week, I gather, speak from my heart, and listen deeply. No one is meant to suffer alone. We need connection and support. Heart Circle is a space of reciprocity where I feel held and hold others in return.
This winter, I turned to the tarot. On January 1st, I lit a candle, shuffled my Herbal Astrology deck, and pulled 12 cards. Each month, I reflect on their meaning. February is a blue lotus, corresponding with the Sun and Moon, growing underwater, and blooming radiantly above the surface. I resonate deeply with this flower. For months, I retreated beneath the surface to heal another episode of burnout. Launching a small business drained me. I set high expectations and pressured myself to produce content and have insights about the astrology of the moment. It was exhausting. I forced myself to write and make graphics because I thought horoscopes and forecasts were the only way to be a successful astrologer. By December, my creative well was dry. All I could do was rest.
I’ve thought a lot about this newsletter and why I write it. At first, it was a place to share my growing knowledge and reflections about astrology. Then, it became a marketing tool to grow an email list and share my offerings. When my “why” for writing shifted to marketing, I pressured myself to create content I thought would be valuable for you, dear reader. I’ve tried many things, writing about the new and full Moons, weekly Mooncasts, and a review of the astrology of 2023, which I never completed. Nothing stuck.
I thought about my favorite newsletters and why I love them. It’s the vulnerability of the writers, their storytelling, and glimpses into their hearts. I realized this is the kind of writing I want to share. I want to share personal stories about magic, struggles, and joy. Although I find astrological forecasts and horoscopes enjoyable, I’m not meant to write them. Moving forward this newsletter is a place for personal essays, reflections, magical insights, and updates about my offerings. I hope you stick with me, but I understand if you want to unsubscribe.
For now, it's still winter, even if it feels like spring, and I’m honoring my need to rest. My creative well is slowly refilling. I’m learning to allow inspiration to emerge from within rather than force it. I was overcome with joy when I meditated and the words “dear reader” popped into my mind. It was like a dam burst and out flowed these reflections. I thank the Sun in Pisces for the inspiration to write today. I hope to be in your inbox soon, but I’m not forcing a consistent writing schedule.
I’m accepting astrology clients in 2024, but my availability is scaled way back. One Friday per month, I have two in-person appointments at Luna Verde in Bayview, and one Saturday per month, I have three virtual appointments. If you’re interested in a year-ahead, solar return, or natal chart reading, my books for March are open.
Happy Pisces season, dear readers. Until next time.