On Monday, a new moon in Libra offers this season’s chance to imagine a new future, to open a door into the world you want to live in. On Tuesday, Mercury moves from Libra to Scorpio, and with it, your thoughts and your language might sharpen. Maybe it’s no longer the time to speak toward tact, toward diplomacy, toward bridge-building.
Other people have so many ideas about what your desires are supposed to look like, and what you’re supposed to be working toward, and what shapes your feelings can take. And while it’s helpful not to ignore them completely, you’re allowed to disagree. When you set your sights on justice or freedom or love, you’re allowed to define for yourself what that means.
Even when you’re working as hard as you can, it can still feel like there’s no ground beneath you, like there’s nothing solid to stand on. It’s easy to imagine that your own heart, your own mind, your own memories should be enough to guide you back to land, but that’s not always how it works. This is a week for for something solid to hang your vision on. Sometimes, only what’s visible with your eyes or touchable with your hands can pull you back from the edge.
Most of the time, you’re wild enough that you can go your own way without worrying, but if someone you love disagrees with you this week, you might be surprised by how much it disturbs you, by how much it hurts. There’s such a strong desire for everything to balance, to make sense, to be beautiful and consistent and good. This week, try not to worry so much about the strangeness, about the colors that clash, about the sky that changes color above you.
There’s all this nebulous anger inside you, all this swirling, bubbling rage, and maybe it’s been hard to know how to use it, if your survival requires being tactful and understanding and soft. This week, focus on surviving, however you need to do it. Focus on making it through, just don’t forget the roaring power you’re made of. Your steely anger won’t abandon you, and neither will your capacity for softness and love.
Even when the present seems terrifying, the future can seem even worse, dark and clanging and unknown. Remember that time will keep moving, and the earth will spin on its axis. The world will change, and so will you, and there’s no way to stop this. But it’s still possible for something good and bright to grow out of questionable soil. It’s still possible for all this change to bring something magnificent.
You might find yourself looking at your relationships with other people and wondering. You might find yourself noticing all the different ways you know how to love and wondering if it’s enough, if it’s what you really need, or if it’s just what you’ve been told, over and over again, that you need to accept. And it’s good, sometimes, to doubt yourself. It’s good, sometimes, to doubt the things you know. Don’t make wild changes yet, just keep your eyes open.
This week, you might feel yourself returning to some old way of feeling, some old way of knowing the world. Maybe it’s the sharp curiosity you thought was lost, maybe it’s the bright tenderness you thought you outgrew. Don’t think of your life as a long straight line, as a steady march forward to the future. Progress jumps and zigzags. You can return to the past, and you can move forward. You can stand still, and watch as another path becomes clear.
Don’t expect yourself to shine your light at its full strength for every minute of every day. Don’t expect yourself to meet every situation, every moment, every person, with the full intensity of your magic. It’s good sometimes to retract your claws, to temporarily dull your sharpest edges — the world is small, and we all have to live here together. And still, if you’ve been doing this for too long, you might forget how much power you really have. This is a week for finding what has been hidden, for recovering what has been lost.
Maybe your attention has been scattered, and maybe you’ve been balancing so many projects at the same time. Maybe you’ve been moving in what feels like every direction at once. This is a week for remembering where you are, and for recalibrating your compass. You can look up to the stars, or you can watch the sun move through the sky, or you can turn to the people who know you best, and whose fire you trust to guide you.
You might imagine, in the middle of all this week’s noise, that the only way to be heard is to shout the loudest, but this is only a way to tire and frustrate yourself — you’ll never be louder than all the other voices combined, and you don’t have to be. It can be enough to be heard clearly by the people in your own small community, in your own glittering life.
This week, imagined futures will sing in your heart, they’ll clean the air in your lungs, they’ll offer a lightness, a reason to keep going. And this is as good a reason as any — the certainty that, no matter what happens, the world can’t stay like this forever. Something will have to change. Just don’t get lost in a future built only of shining possibility. Don’t forget the world you’re living in right now.
You might feel lonely this week, but you might also feel other emotions disguising themselves as loneliness. Sometimes, what feels like loneliness can be a cover for anger. Sometimes, it’s a signal telling you that somewhere in your life, the balance is off. Maybe you need to find a future you can believe in again. Maybe you need to return to a place where you feel like yourself. Spending good, real time with other people is the most obvious cure for loneliness, but it’s not the only one.