I always think the shadow period deserves more attention than we give it. A retrograde does not suddenly drop a lesson into our laps the day a planet stations. The story has already begun. The characters are entering the room. The themes are quietly introducing themselves. Conversations, relationships, desires, discomforts, attractions, financial questions, creative impulses, and questions of self-worth that emerge now may become part of the material Venus asks us to revisit later. Think of this period as foreshadowing.

And I am paying particularly close attention to this one.

I am a Libra Sun (ruled by Venus) with Venus in Libra, so Venus is already deeply woven into the architecture of my chart. This retrograde will move directly across my Venus, making this cycle incredibly personal for me. But there is another reason I cannot stop thinking about it: Inanna, the ancient Sumerian goddess whose mythology offers one of the most powerful mirrors for understanding the Venus cycle.

Apparently, I really do need to talk about her. I have asteroid Inanna in Aries opposing my Mercury in Libra, meaning the goddess of love, sovereignty, desire, war, and descent quite literally sits across from the planet that governs my voice, writing, teaching, and storytelling. So here we are.

One of the things I find most fascinating about Inanna is that she complicates our understanding of Venus. We have softened Venus tremendously in modern astrology. We associate her with love, beauty, romance, pleasure, relationships, money, art, attraction, and the things we value. She absolutely represents those things, but the ancient goddesses connected with the planet Venus were rarely so one-dimensional.

Inanna was a goddess of love and sexuality, but also power, fertility, justice, sovereignty, and war. She could seduce and create, bless and destroy. She contained contradiction, which feels important when we talk about Venus retrograde, because Venus retrograde is not necessarily soft.

Sometimes understanding what you truly value requires discovering what you no longer value. Sometimes understanding what you deserve requires recognizing where you have accepted less. Sometimes finding your authentic desire requires confronting all the things you thought you were supposed to want. And sometimes reclaiming yourself requires descending into the places where you gave away pieces of yourself.

That is where Inanna enters the story.

In one of the oldest surviving myths from Mesopotamia, Inanna decides to descend into the underworld, the realm ruled by her sister Ereshkigal. Before leaving, Inanna prepares herself with all the symbols of her earthly and divine power. She puts on her crown, her lapis lazuli jewelry, her breastplate, her bracelet, her royal garments, and carries the objects that identify her as Inanna, Queen of Heaven, powerful goddess, sovereign woman.

Then she begins her descent.

There are seven gates into the underworld, and at each gate something is removed. A crown. Jewelry. Armor. The symbols of her authority. Her clothing. Piece by piece, everything that identifies Inanna as the woman she believes herself to be is taken from her.

I cannot think of a better metaphor for Venus retrograde.

Retrogrades turn our attention inward, and Venus asks particularly uncomfortable questions when she does. Who are you when no one is choosing you? Who are you when you are not being admired? Who are you without the relationship, the title, the beautiful exterior, the approval, the money, the person you thought you needed, or the story you have been telling yourself about what love is supposed to look like?

At some point in every descent, we reach a gate where something can no longer come with us.

I keep coming back to those seven gates because I think there is something incredibly useful about imagining this Venus retrograde through them. Perhaps one gate removes your need to be liked. Another removes the relationship dynamic you have been defending even though you know it no longer feels good. Another removes the version of yourself built around someone else’s expectations. Another removes the belief that being desired is the same thing as being loved. Another removes the habit of keeping the peace at the expense of your truth. Another removes your attachment to how you thought your life was supposed to look by now.

And eventually, you reach the final gate. There is nothing left to perform, nothing left to prove, nothing left to decorate. You are simply yourself.

That is the terrifying and liberating medicine of Inanna. The descent is not punishment. It is revelation.

And this particular Venus retrograde begins in Scorpio. It couldn’t be more perfect!

Scorpio understands the underworld. Scorpio is the territory of intimacy, vulnerability, sexuality, trust, betrayal, merging, power, secrecy, shared resources, attachment, grief, and psychological transformation. Scorpio does not particularly care about maintaining appearances. It wants the truth underneath them.

So the first part of this Venus retrograde may take us into some uncomfortable territory. What happens when intimacy requires vulnerability instead of control? Where have power dynamics quietly entered your relationships? What do you fear losing? What are you gripping because you are afraid of what will happen if you let go? Where have desire and fear become entangled? Where have you mistaken intensity for intimacy? What truths about love, sex, money, trust, jealousy, loyalty, or attachment have been living underneath the surface?

Scorpio takes Venus beneath the pretty story.

And then Venus eventually returns to Libra, which changes the focus.

Libra is Venus’s home. It is the territory of relationship, reciprocity, beauty, harmony, justice, compromise, partnership, and the delicate dance between you and me. But every sign has a shadow, and Libra can maintain harmony long after harmony has stopped being honest (DAMN that hits). It can compromise itself into resentment. It can confuse being agreeable with being loving. It can become so aware of another person’s needs that it loses contact with its own. It can stay because leaving would disappoint someone. It can smile while something inside is screaming.

So when Venus backs out of Scorpio and returns to Libra, I do not think the question is simply, Do I want this relationship? The question becomes: what does reciprocity actually mean to me now? After everything Scorpio has exposed, what kind of relationship can I still participate in? What am I no longer willing to negotiate? Where have I abandoned myself in the name of peace? What does fairness look like when I include myself in the equation?

And perhaps most importantly, can I remain connected to another person without disconnecting from myself?

That is a very different version of Libra.

Eventually, stripped of everything she carried into the underworld, Inanna stands before her sister Ereshkigal. And Inanna dies. Her body is hung upon a hook, and for three days the Queen of Heaven remains in the realm of death.

This is the part of the myth that so beautifully echoes the astronomical symbolism of Venus’s transformation. During the Venus retrograde cycle, Venus moves into conjunction with the Sun, disappearing into the Sun’s glare as she transitions between her evening-star and morning-star phases. Astrologically, this conjunction, Venus cazimi, is the heart of the retrograde. The center of the underworld. The moment when the old Venus cycle burns away, and another begins.

And I do not think we should rush past that. There is medicine to be found.

We live in a culture obsessed with resurrection. We want the breakthrough, the healed relationship, the new love, the empowered woman, the lesson, the glow-up. We are much less comfortable with the part where Inanna hangs on the hook. The part where you do not know yet. The relationship ended, but the wisdom has not arrived. The identity fell apart, but the new one has not formed. The thing you wanted no longer feels right, but you do not know what you want instead.

You have removed the crown, the jewelry, the armor, the expectations, the performance, and now you are simply standing there without an answer.

That space matters, as you cannot resurrect something that has never been allowed to die.

I also do not think we can understand Inanna’s descent without Ereshkigal. She is the Queen of the Underworld, and she represents the territory Inanna cannot rule through beauty, charm, status, sexuality, or earthly power. Symbolically, she can represent the parts of ourselves we would rather not meet: jealousy, rage, grief, envy, fear, possessiveness, rejection, shame, need, and all the parts of love that are not particularly Instagrammable.

Venus retrograde can bring these things closer to consciousness, not because something has gone wrong, but because perhaps they have been standing at one of our gates all along.

There is tremendous wisdom in being willing to ask what is underneath your reaction. Not simply, Why did they hurt me? But, what did this awaken inside of me? Not simply, why didn’t they choose me? But, why does being chosen determine how valuable I feel? Not simply, why am I jealous? But, what am I afraid I am going to lose?

That is underworld work.

Inanna does not remain dead. When she fails to return, her loyal attendant Ninshubur seeks help. Eventually, beings are sent into the underworld carrying the food and water of life. Inanna is revived, but she cannot simply return to her old life untouched.

That may be one of the most important parts of this entire story.

You do not go into the underworld and return as the same person. There is a cost to consciousness. Once you see something, you cannot completely unsee it. Once you recognize a pattern, participating in it unconsciously becomes harder. Once you know what you actually desire, pretending you do not becomes painful. Once you understand where you have abandoned yourself, you have to decide whether you are willing to keep doing it.

Inanna rises, but the woman who ascends is not identical to the woman who descended.

Neither are we.

There is another part of Inanna’s story that feels especially relevant to Venus retrograde. When she returns from the underworld, she discovers who remained loyal to her during her absence and who did not. Ninshubur mourned her and sought help. Dumuzid, Inanna’s husband, is discovered occupying her throne rather than mourning her. Suddenly the descent has revealed something Inanna could not see before.

I think relationships often work this way.

We learn a tremendous amount about people when circumstances change. When we stop overfunctioning. When we set a boundary. When we become less convenient. When we stop chasing. When we need support instead of always providing it. When we change. When we become more ourselves.

Sometimes Venus retrograde does not cause relationships to fall apart. Sometimes it simply reveals the relationship that was already there. And that distinction matters.

This brings us back to today, August 31st, the beginning of the pre-retrograde shadow. We have arrived at the first gate.

You do not need to make anything happen. You do not need to panic about your relationship. You do not need to assume an ex is returning simply because Venus is preparing to retrograde, and please do not put your entire romantic life on hold until Venus stations direct!

Just pay attention.

Notice what conversations begin. Notice who enters your life. Notice who suddenly occupies more space in your thoughts. Notice what feels uncomfortable. Notice where resentment appears. Notice what you desire. Notice what you are spending money on. Notice what suddenly no longer feels worth the price. Notice what you are tolerating. Notice where your body contracts even when your mind says everything is fine. Notice where you are performing harmony rather than experiencing it.

These may be breadcrumbs.

Venus will walk this territory three times: once forward, once backward, and once forward again. What appears now may look very different by the time she has finished telling the story.

This is why I do not see Venus retrograde as something to fear. I see it as an initiation of the heart.

Venus governs what we value, and sometimes our values have to change because we have changed. Sometimes the relationship that once fit us no longer does. Sometimes the dream we spent years chasing is no longer ours. Sometimes the version of beauty we were trying to embody was inherited. Sometimes our relationship with money has been built around scarcity, validation, or fear. Sometimes pleasure has become something we earn instead of something we allow. Sometimes we discover that what we called love required too much self-abandonment.

And sometimes we realize that we have been standing at the gates of our own underworld for a very long time.

Inanna reminds us that descent is part of the cycle.

Venus disappears. Inanna removes her crown. The old identity dies. The goddess waits in darkness. And eventually, Venus rises again. Not as the same star she was before, but transformed from evening star to morning star.

Perhaps that is the invitation of this retrograde too. Not to desperately preserve everything we currently love, but to become curious about what remains when everything false has been stripped away.

What do you value when nobody else is watching? What do you desire when you stop choosing what you think you should desire? What kind of love becomes possible when you no longer have to abandon yourself to receive it?

What remains when the crown comes off?

Today we enter the shadow.

The first gate is opening.

What are you finally ready to leave at the gate?

love & stardust,

Ashley

But there is also A LOT of Mars energy woven into the astrology this week, bringing our desires, impulses, frustrations, courage, and willingness to take action into the conversation. So we have Mercury asking, What makes sense? While Mars is asking, okay, but what are you actually going to do about it?

And somewhere between those two voices is another one I don’t want you to forget: your intuitive mind. Your body. Your heart. The part of you that knows something before you can logically explain why you know it.

I think sometimes we become so focused on making the “right” decision that we completely bypass what we already know. We analyze the relationship. We make the list of pros and cons. We ask five friends what they think. We pull another card. We Google it. We read another book or listen to another podcast. We intellectualize the hell out of something because accepting what our intuition has already told us would mean we’d actually have to do something about it.

And that part can be uncomfortable.

Because knowing creates responsibility. Once you admit to yourself that something isn’t working, you have to decide whether you’re willing to change it. Once you acknowledge what you really want, you have to decide whether you’re willing to pursue it. Once you recognize that a boundary has been crossed, you have to decide whether you’re willing to enforce it.

That’s the real invitation of this week.

Don’t abandon logic. Don’t stop asking questions. Don’t stop thinking critically or paying attention to the details. That’s part of the medicine of Virgo season. But don’t let logic become so loud that you can no longer hear your own inner knowing.

There are some things you aren’t going to think your way into understanding. There are some answers that arrive through the body, the heart, synchronicity, intuition, and that quiet voice inside of you that simply says, I know.

The question this week is whether you’re willing to trust it.

Your Allies for the Week

This week’s cards could not have been more fitting.

Ginkgo — Breakthrough + New Consciousness

Before I even pulled a card, I knew Raven was coming through. Raven medicine has been showing up a lot for me lately, as birds usually do, and there was something about the energy this week that felt like it carried Raven’s message.

Then I pulled Ginkgo. Of course.

Ginkgo carries the medicine of Raven, Mars, and Uranus- breakthrough, courage, resilience, and a revolutionary shift in consciousness.

It appears when you’re being asked to stay courageous on your journey toward a new level of awareness.

Something may click this week.

An idea.

A realization.

A truth you’ve been circling around.

A completely different way of seeing your situation.

But Ginkgo also carries an important reminder:

Don’t allow negativity to cloud your path.

You may not be able to see exactly where a breakthrough is leading yet. Keep going anyway.

Unicorn — Trust What You Cannot See

Unicorn is back again this week. And when an ally repeats itself, it is important to pay attention.

Unicorn asks us to examine our relationship with the unseen.

We joke about unicorns:

Did they ever really exist?

But isn’t that sometimes how we treat our intuition?

Did I really feel that?

Was that actually a sign?

Am I imagining this?

What if I’m wrong?

We demand physical proof for something our soul already recognizes.

Unicorn reminds you:

You don’t have to see everything to believe it.

Trust your connection to your intuition, Spirit, the Universe, your higher self- whatever language resonates with you. Not everything meaningful can be proven through logic.

Octopus — Boundaries + Direction

Octopus is incredibly intelligent. But its shadow energy can represent reaching in too many directions, yearning, overextending, lacking boundaries, and losing your sense of direction.

Sound familiar, Virgo?

Sometimes the mind keeps reaching.

Another explanation.

Another possibility.

Another solution.

Another person’s opinion.

Another thing to fix.

Octopus says:

Come back to yourself.

Stop reaching outside of yourself for the answer long enough to hear what’s happening inside you.

And I have to mention that when I pulled this card, all I could think about was the research showing female octopuses throwing shells and sea debris at unwanted male harassers. If that isn’t fitting for our current times. 😂

Sometimes spiritual growth looks like meditation. Sometimes it looks like throwing a metaphorical shell and saying, "No." That’s enough.

Healthy boundaries are part of the medicine this week.

The Astrology of the Week

Monday, August 31

Jupiter in Leo trine Saturn in Aries

We begin the week with one of those beautiful combinations of expansion and structure.

Jupiter says: Think bigger.

Saturn says: Okay. Now what are you willing to build?

This is supportive energy for taking something you’ve imagined and giving it structure. The vision doesn’t have to stay a vision anymore.

But don’t confuse slow, sustainable growth with a lack of movement.

You don’t have to do everything today. You just need to show your dream that you’re serious about it.

Work with it:

• Revisit a long-term goal.

• Make one practical move toward something bigger.

• Say yes to growth that feels sustainable.

• Create structure around a dream.

• Ask: What am I ready to take seriously?

Tuesday, September 1

Moon in Taurus

Mars in Cancer square Saturn in Aries

Mercury in Virgo sextile Mars in Cancer

Today could feel a little like having one foot on the gas and another on the brake.

Mars wants movement. Saturn creates resistance, and resistance can be frustrating.

But Mercury sextile Mars gives you an opportunity to get intentional about where you’re directing your energy.

Instead of immediately reacting to the obstacle, think before you act.

Maybe the delay is useful.

Maybe the boundary is necessary.

Maybe your frustration is showing you where something needs to change.

The Taurus Moon says slow down enough to figure it out.

Work with it:

• Don’t force something that isn’t moving.

• Pause before reacting from frustration.

• Have the conversation instead of stewing over it.

• Focus your energy on what you can control.

• Let your body help you make the decision.

• Ask: Where does my energy actually belong?

Wednesday, September 2

Void Moon in Taurus All Day

This is not the day to force answers. It’s a day to tend.

The Taurus Moon wants simplicity, embodiment, nourishment, and presence.

Remember Octopus. If you’ve been reaching in ten different directions trying to figure something out, pull your tentacles back in and come home to yourself.

Sometimes clarity arrives when you stop looking for it.

Work with it:

• Finish what you’ve already started.

• Avoid forcing major decisions.

• Eat something nourishing.

• Spend time outside.

• Get into your body.

• Give yourself permission to do less.

Thursday, September 3

Moon enters Gemini

Moon conjunct Uranus in Gemini

The Moon meets Uranus in Gemini, and something can suddenly click.

A conversation changes your perspective.

An unexpected idea arrives.

Information comes through.

You finally understand something you’ve been trying to make sense of. Or life simply throws you a curveball that requires you to think differently.

Stay curious. The breakthrough may arrive disguised in something so simple.

Work with it:

• Write down sudden ideas.

• Have interesting conversations.

• Change your routine.

• Follow your curiosity.

• Stay flexible when plans shift.

• Ask: What am I being invited to see differently?

Friday, September 4

Moon in Gemini square Mercury in Virgo

Your mind could be LOUD today. There may be too many thoughts, too many options, too much information, or an urge to analyze every possible outcome.

You don’t need another answer from outside yourself.

You might need silence.

Put down the phone.

Close the seventeen tabs.

Stop asking everyone what they think.

Go somewhere quiet and ask yourself: What do I already know?

Work with it:

• Step away from information overload.

• Journal instead of overthinking.

• Don’t believe every thought you have.

• Give your nervous system a break.

• Trust your intuition.

• Create boundaries around other people’s opinions.

Saturday, September 5

Moon in Gemini trine North Node in Aquarius

Moon enters Cancer

Moon square Neptune in Aries

There may be a conversation, an idea, an encounter, or a piece of information today that feels strangely significant.

The Moon connecting with the North Node can create those little moments where life seems to whisper: pay attention to this.

But later, as the Moon enters Cancer and squares Neptune, clarity can become murkier.

Don’t immediately turn every intuitive feeling into a story. Feel it first.

There is a difference between intuition and anxiety. Intuition often arrives quietly. Fear usually has a LOT more to say.

Work with it:

• Pay attention to meaningful conversations.

• Notice synchronicities.

• Write down intuitive hits.

• Don’t force yourself to interpret everything immediately.

• Give emotions time to settle.

• Ask: Is this my intuition speaking, or is this fear filling in the blanks?

Sunday, September 6

Moon in Cancer conjunct Mars in Cancer

We end the week with emotion becoming action.

Mars in Cancer fights for what it loves.

Home.

Family.

Safety.

Belonging.

The people and places that matter.

But Mars can also make emotions reactive, especially when we feel vulnerable or threatened.

Healthy boundaries are necessary.

You don’t have to explain your no twelve different ways. You don’t have to keep reaching toward someone who isn’t reaching back. And you don’t have to abandon your own emotional needs to keep everyone else comfortable.

Work with it:

• Move your body to release emotion.

• Protect your energy.

• Tend to your home.

• Say no where you need to.

• Take action on something your heart cares about.

• Ask: What is worth protecting?

The Message for the Week

Your mind is an incredible tool. Use it. Analyze. Question. Learn. Plan. Organize. Think critically. Let Virgo season help you notice the details you’ve been overlooking and make the practical changes that will support where you’re trying to go.

But don’t worship at the altar of logic so completely that you forget there are other forms of intelligence living inside you. Your intuition is intelligence. Your body is intelligence. Your heart is intelligence. Sometimes they recognize the truth long before your mind has collected enough evidence to feel comfortable believing it.

That’s what I think our allies are trying to remind us this week. Ginkgo asks us to stay courageous enough to allow a breakthrough to change our perspective, even when it disrupts what we thought we knew. Unicorn asks us to trust what we cannot always see or prove and to remain connected to the unseen intelligence guiding our lives. And Octopus reminds us to stop reaching in every direction for answers, validation, or certainty and instead pull our energy back toward ourselves. Sometimes the boundary isn’t just between you and another person. Sometimes the boundary is between your own knowing and the endless noise trying to convince you otherwise.

Maybe the goal isn’t to choose between your logical mind and your intuitive mind. Maybe it’s learning how to let them sit at the same table. To allow Mercury to gather the information, your intuition to tell you what feels true, and Mars to give you the courage to actually do something about it.

Because eventually, there comes a point when you’ve thought about it enough.

You’ve analyzed it enough.

You’ve asked enough people.

You’ve pulled enough cards.

You’ve considered enough possibilities.

And the only thing left to do is trust yourself.

So when you catch yourself overthinking the hell out of something this week, come back to one simple question: what do I already know? Then give yourself enough quiet time to hear the answer.

love & stardust,

Ashley

Ashley Tracey

Weaving the Goddess Story

There are stories in your birth chart that the planets alone cannot always tell…

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9 days ago · 5 likes · Ashley Tracey

There is always a new layer of astrology that gives language to something I have always felt about myself but could never quite see in the chart.

This is what has been happening as I have gone deeper into my work with the feminine asteroids and the goddess archetypes.

Your traditional birth chart tells an extraordinary story. It shows your personality, your patterns, your gifts, your relationships, your wounds, your desires, your evolution. I will never stop being amazed by how much information can be contained in the exact arrangement of the sky at the moment we take our first breath.

But I have started to think of the asteroid goddesses as another layer of the story.

They reveal the feminine archetypes living underneath the chart.

The women behind the woman.

The myths underneath the patterns.

The ancient stories that somehow keep finding their way into our very modern lives.

And sometimes, they illuminate parts of the birth chart that previously seemed strangely quiet.

This happened with my Jupiter.

If you look at my natal chart, you will find Jupiter at 15°53′ Scorpio in my 10th house.

Jupiter is prosperity. Expansion. Wisdom. Teaching. The places where life wants to make us bigger. And in the 10th house, Jupiter is connected to career, visibility, public life, the roles we play, and what we ultimately contribute to the world.

You would think that would be a pretty loud planet in my chart. Except my Jupiter doesn’t make major aspects to the other planets. He is just sitting there in Scorpio, in my 10th house, alone and trying to find someone to see him. HELLLOOOOOOOO

BUT when I added the asteroid goddesses.

Suddenly, Jupiter was anything but alone.

Three women stood around him, and, as women do, they held him up for the world to see.

And when I saw who they were, something in the trajectory of my life made so much more sense.

Kassandra.

Medusa.

Isis.

And all three are tightly connected to the planet of expansion, wisdom, teaching, prosperity, and my public work. That is when the chart came to life even more.

My Kassandra at 15°20′ Cancer (in my 6th house) forms an almost exact trine to Jupiter at 15°53′ Scorpio, with only 0°33′ between the exact aspect.

Kassandra is the woman who knows before she is believed.

In mythology, she was given the gift of prophecy, but cursed so that no one would believe what she saw. Hers is an archetype I think so many intuitive women instinctively understand: I know what I know, but can I trust myself when no one else can see it yet?

And there she is, connected directly to my Jupiter.

My intuition connected to my teaching.

My knowing connected to my public work.

My ability to perceive what lives beneath the surface connected to the very planet associated with expansion and wisdom.

Kassandra is in Cancer, a sign deeply connected to feeling, memory, ancestry, emotional intelligence, and the body’s instinctive knowing. Jupiter is in Scorpio, the sign that wants to go underneath appearances and uncover what is hidden.

That combination feels almost comically literal when I look at the work I have built my life around.

Astrology.

Intuitive channeling.

Past-life work.

The unseen.

The psychological and energetic layers underneath the obvious story.

I have spent years learning how to trust information I cannot necessarily explain the moment I receive it. And perhaps even more importantly, learning that I don’t need everyone else to believe what I know in order for me to trust it.

But Kassandra isn’t the only woman standing with Jupiter.

My Medusa at 15°10′ Virgo (in my 8th house) forms a sextile to Jupiter with an orb of only 0°43′.

Medusa carries another story entirely.

Her mythology contains beauty, violation, rage, shame, projection, protection, and the consequences of a woman becoming the monster in someone else’s version of the story.

But Medusa’s story does not end there. Eventually, her face becomes protection. Her image is placed upon Athena’s shield and used to turn danger away. The thing that made her monstrous becomes powerful.

And there is Medusa, connected to my Jupiter in Scorpio in the house ruled by Scorpio.

Death. Rebirth. Transformation.

Turning painful experiences into wisdom. Like being a young woman who was sexually abused and feeling all the shame that comes with that experience.

Learning to look directly at the shadow instead of pretending it isn’t there.

Learning to stop seeing myself through the eyes of people who projected their own stories onto me.

Learning to turn the gaze around and say, that is yours to face as I descend into mine.

I get to decide what my experiences mean, and there is something incredibly Scorpionic about that. Scorpio doesn’t ask us to bypass the wound. It asks us to descend into it deeply enough that we eventually emerge carrying something we did not have before.

Power. Wisdom. Discernment. Medicine.

If you have ever worked with me, you know that I am all about empowering you, not disempowering you. I will not tell you what you want to hear, but rather what you need to see within yourself to have the courage to face anything that comes your way.

And then there is Isis.

My Isis at 16°41′ Capricorn (in my 12th house) forms another tight sextile to Jupiter, this one within 0°48′.

Isis is the great gatherer. When Osiris is killed and dismembered, Isis searches for his scattered pieces and brings them back together. Her magic isn’t about pretending nothing was ever broken.

Her magic is reassembly. She takes what has been fragmented and creates wholeness from what remains.

When I saw Isis connected to my Jupiter in Scorpio in the 10th house, I immediately thought about the strange and winding trajectory of my own work. I MEAN THE WHOLISTIC SOUL….you can’t make this up!

Because my career has never been one neat, linear story (ewww, boring, says my mutable Sagittarius midheaven).

Nutrition.

Integrative health.

Teaching.

Astrology.

Energy work.

Intuitive channeling.

Past lives.

Writing.

For a long time, these could have looked like separate pieces. But they aren’t.

Isis gathers the pieces. Scorpio finds the hidden thread running through them. Capricorn gives them structure. And Jupiter turns what I have learned into something I can teach, share, and offer to other people.

Suddenly, the “un-aspected” Jupiter in my chart isn’t unconnected at all. He has an entire council of women around him.

Kassandra says: Trust what you know.

Medusa says: Turn what wounded you into power.

Isis says: Gather the pieces and make something from them.

And Jupiter says: Now teach it.

That is the Goddess Within.

It is not simply finding an asteroid in your chart and saying, “Oh, you have Persephone in your first house,” or “You have Medusa in your seventh.”

That can be interesting, but I want to know the story.

Who is she speaking to?

Which planet is she activating?

Where does her mythology echo something you have actually lived?

Which goddesses are standing beside your Sun, Moon, Ascendant, Midheaven, Venus, Mars, Nodes, or other significant placements?

Where are several archetypes repeating the same message?

And what happens when we stop reading them individually and allow them to speak to one another?

Because that is when the mythology becomes personal.

One of my clients recently described her Goddess Within experience in a way that stopped me in my tracks:

“It feels even more personal than a birth chart because it adds that next layer that is so hard to verbalize, but when I read it I feel the truth in it. Like a natal chart is telling who you are and this tells you what you’re capable of. And identifies the feminine support behind you. Is it weird that I’m tearing up? I’m so moved by this.”

That sentence “this tells you what you’re capable of” is so important!

Because I think she articulated exactly what I have been feeling as I develop this work.

The goddess asteroids don’t replace the natal chart. They reveal another dimension of it. They give names and faces and myths to patterns that may otherwise be difficult to articulate. And perhaps most beautifully, they can show us the feminine archetypes standing with us on this journey called life.

Not as something outside of ourselves that we need to become, but as something ancient that we may already carry.

Maybe there is a Kassandra in you who has always known.

Maybe there is a Medusa who is ready to stop carrying someone else’s projection.

Maybe there is an Isis gathering pieces of your life you thought had nothing to do with one another.

Maybe Persephone, Hekate, Lilith, Circe, Asteria, Psyche, or another woman entirely is waiting somewhere in your chart.

And maybe when you finally meet her, there will be that strange moment of recognition: Oh. There you are. That is what I have been trying to explain my whole life.

This is why I created The Goddess Within and offer this work in two ways.

My Goddess Within 1:1 Reading is the deepest version of the experience. We explore your most prominent goddess signatures together, weave their mythology into your natal chart, and follow the places where your chart wants us to go. It gives us space for conversation, intuitive insight, questions, and the pieces that emerge as we sit together within your story.

And I have also created a new Goddess Within Digital Report for those who want to experience this work at a lower price point or simply prefer something they can read, highlight, journal with, and return to again and again. Your report identifies the goddess signatures that are most strongly woven into your birth chart and explores their mythology, shadows, gifts, medicine, and connection to your larger astrological story. I am working to put this report on my website, so if you are interested and want to get on the waitlist…email me at ashley@ashleytracey.com

Because your chart may already tell us who you are. But perhaps there are women hidden among the stars who can remind you of what you are capable of becoming. And I would love to introduce you to them. xo

love & stardust,

Ashley

The Sun speaks to identity. The Moon speaks to instinct, memory, and emotional need. Venus tells us something about values and relating. Saturn shows us where life asks us to mature. Pluto takes us into the places where we meet power, loss, and transformation.

But then there are the asteroids.

Thousands of smaller celestial bodies move through the birth chart, many carrying the names of ancient goddesses, mythological women, witches, priestesses, monsters, queens, and women whose stories have survived for thousands of years.

I have become increasingly fascinated by what happens when we invite these feminine archetypes into the birth chart. Because sometimes they name something the traditional masculine planets cannot quite reach.

They reveal another layer of the story.

The mythology living inside your chart

Mythology has always been a way of making sense of the human experience.

Before we had psychological language for trauma, shadow, projection, initiation, sovereignty, grief, desire, or transformation, we had stories.

We had Medusa.

Lilith.

Hekate.

Circe.

Persephone.

Arachne.

Women who were feared, punished, exiled, transformed, silenced, worshipped, demonized, misunderstood, or made monstrous because of the power they carried or the truths they represented.

And when we find these archetypes strongly placed in a birth chart, their stories can feel strangely familiar. Not because you are literally destined to become the mythological character whose name appears in your chart. But because myth works symbolically.

The goddess becomes a doorway.

Her story gives us language for something we may have experienced but never fully understood.

Medusa carries the wound of violation and demonization.

Her mythology asks us to look at what happens when someone who has been harmed becomes the one others fear. In the birth chart, Medusa can point toward places where shame, projection, rage, protection, sexuality, or being misunderstood become part of our story.

But Medusa is not only the wound. She is also the gaze. The woman whose very presence has power.

There can be something profoundly protective about Medusa. Her image was historically used as an apotropaic symbol- a force meant to ward off evil. Astrologically, I am interested in the journey from being wounded by someone else’s power to recognizing the protective power of your own.

Lilith carries refusal and exile.

Lilith says no.

No, I will not diminish myself.

No, I will not submit simply because submission is expected of me.

No, I will not trade my sovereignty for belonging.

And there is often a cost to that refusal.

Lilith embodies the archetype of exile- the experience of discovering what happens when a woman refuses to behave as the world expects her to.

In the chart, Lilith can reveal where we have learned to make ourselves smaller to remain acceptable, but she can also show where something wild and uncompromising within us refuses to disappear.

Circe carries autonomous feminine power.

The witch.

The herbalist.

The enchantress.

The woman living on her own island, surrounded by plants, animals, magic, and knowledge that belongs entirely to her.

Circe does not need permission to access her power. That alone makes her dangerous.

In the birth chart, Circe can speak to our relationship with magic, intuition, healing, sexuality, autonomy, transformation, and the kind of feminine power that exists outside traditional systems of authority.

She asks: What happens when you stop waiting for someone else to validate what you already know?

Persephone carries descent and transformation.

Persephone’s story is one of crossing thresholds. Maiden becomes Queen of the Underworld. Innocence becomes experience. The woman who descends is not the same woman who returns.

This is why I see Persephone as such a powerful marker of initiation in the birth chart.

She can show us where life repeatedly asks us to descend beneath the surface- to encounter grief, shadow, mystery, psychic depth, ancestral material, or experiences that fundamentally change us.

But Persephone reminds us that descent is only part of the story.

There is also return. There is the wisdom you bring back with you.

Arachne carries testimony.

And this is the archetype I have been thinking about deeply lately. Seeing spiders everywhere!!!!

Arachne weaves what she sees.

When challenged by Athena, she does not create a tapestry praising the gods. She depicts their abuses of power. She takes what has happened, particularly what has happened to women, and makes it visible.

Her art becomes testimony. That makes Arachne particularly fascinating astrologically.

Where Arachne appears prominently in a chart, there may be something connected to truth-telling, witnessing, storytelling, exposing hypocrisy, challenging authority, or using one’s craft to make visible what others would prefer remain hidden.

Her question might be:

What truth are you willing to weave into the world, even when telling it makes someone uncomfortable?

The asteroids don’t replace the chart. They deepen it.

This is an important distinction. I don’t believe we should pull one asteroid out of a chart and declare that it explains someone’s entire life. But they should be woven into the story.

Asteroids become especially interesting when they begin interacting with the larger architecture of the birth chart.

Maybe Medusa sits directly on your Ascendant.

Maybe Persephone conjuncts your Moon.

Maybe Circe sits beside Venus.

Maybe Arachne is conjunct Mercury or your Midheaven.

Maybe Lilith is woven into your Lunar Nodes.

Suddenly, the mythology begins to interact with the planetary story. And this is where astrology becomes incredibly rich.

A goddess conjunct the Moon may become intertwined with emotional memory, the maternal line, instinct, or the inner world.

A goddess conjunct Venus may speak through relationships, sexuality, beauty, worth, or desire.

On Mercury, her story may need to be spoken, written, taught, or named.

On the Midheaven, she may become part of the work you are here to bring into the world.

On the South Node, I become especially curious about karmic memory and stories that may feel ancient or strangely familiar.

On the North Node, perhaps the archetype becomes part of what you are learning to embody.

And when several goddess asteroids repeat the same theme?

I pay attention.

Because sometimes astrology whispers the same story through several different symbols until we finally recognize it.

Maybe you have always known her

This is perhaps my favorite part of working with goddess asteroids.

Often, the archetype isn’t new. You recognize her.

You may have been fascinated by witches since childhood and discover Circe sitting on an angle of your chart.

You may have spent your life navigating profound cycles of loss and rebirth only to discover Persephone woven into your Moon, Pluto, or Nodes.

You may have repeatedly been punished for speaking uncomfortable truths and find Arachne sitting beside Mercury. (Hi, meeee!!!)

You may have spent years reclaiming your voice after being misunderstood, projected upon, or made into the villain of someone else’s story and discover Medusa waiting in a powerful place in your chart.

The asteroid didn’t create the experience.

It gave the experience a name.

And there is something powerful about naming. Because when we understand the archetype, we can begin to move beyond simply reenacting its wound. We can ask a different question.

Not only:

How have I lived this story?

But:

What is this story asking me to become?

Medusa is not only a violation. She is protection and the reclamation of the gaze.

Lilith is not only exile. She is sovereignty.

Circe is not only the feared witch. She is embodied knowledge and autonomous power.

Persephone is not only the maiden taken into the underworld. She becomes its Queen.

Arachne is not only punished for challenging authority. Her weaving survives as a symbol of the dangerous power of telling the truth.

The wound is part of the archetype. But it is never the whole archetype.

Your chart is filled with forgotten women

This is why I keep returning to asteroid astrology, because there are entire mythologies hidden between the planets.

Women whose stories were reduced to warnings.

Women remembered as monsters instead of survivors.

Women called witches because they possessed knowledge outside sanctioned systems.

Women punished for refusing.

Women who descended into darkness and returned carrying wisdom.

Women who told the truth when silence would have been safer.

When their names appear prominently in our charts, I don’t think the invitation is to romanticize their suffering. The invitation is to listen.

Because the birth chart is not simply describing your personality. It is holding a collection of stories.

Some planetary.

Some ancestral.

Some karmic.

Some mythic.

And some that have been waiting thousands of years for another woman to pick up the thread.

The Goddess Within Reading

This exploration is at the heart of my Goddess Within Reading, where we move beyond the traditional planets and explore the feminine archetypes woven throughout your birth chart.

Together, we look at the goddess asteroids that are most strongly activated in your chart- the women, witches, queens, priestesses, monsters, truth-tellers, and initiators whose mythology mirrors something within your own story.

We explore where their wounds may already feel familiar, where their gifts are waiting to be reclaimed, and how their archetypes connect with your planets, angles, Lunar Nodes, and larger soul story.

This isn’t about becoming someone else. It is about recognizing the parts of yourself that may have been there all along.

Medusa. Lilith. Circe. Persephone. Arachne. And the goddesses uniquely written into your chart.

Your birth chart may be carrying stories you haven’t met yet.

Come meet the goddess within.

Book your Goddess Within reading and discover which feminine archetypes are waiting to be remembered, reclaimed, and embodied. https://ashleytracey.com/readings

Stay tuned, as I will be sharing an example reading using my chart :)

love & stardust,

Ashley

Even as I write this, I can FEEL all the emotions that want to surface and make themselves present again. We are approaching a Full Moon Eclipse in Pisces in a couple of days, so I am not surprised. But this post is not about astrology. It is not about me intellectualizing or trying to make sense of what I am feeling. It is just me, a woman expressing herself in a world that has tried and continues to try to control her and others.

I usually have a very good bedtime routine. I love to drink my herbal tea while cuddling with my daughter, write in my gratitude journal, and, once she drifts off to sleep, grab my book and read until my eyes get heavy. But last night was different. I had to stay up later than I usually do because I was waiting for the mom of the dog I was watching to come pick her up. So, I decided to scroll on social media. Something I never do before bed, or at least try not to.

I started on TikTok (guilty pleasure) with my usual booktok videos and witchy content. But then, I stumbled upon a video about the Lindsay Clancy case. Now, I am not one to watch the news about trials or anything like that because I am soooooo sensitive to it, but something about this hit me right in the gut. Like, as soon as I saw her face, I could see the face of myself and other women. So I kept watching. One video turned into ten, and by the time I was finally ready for bed, I was bawling. I felt everything and all the things so deeply it felt personal, because it is personal.

What is happening in this trial and in the world right now is the representation of what the collective feminine has been experiencing for centuries. It is the stark reality that the power dynamics are f*cked and the systems built around those are killing us, specifically women and children.

EVERY WOMAN feels this energy, whether they are watching this trial or not. It is easy to connect with it because it is something women live with, and many of us can see ourselves in her shoes. The mother who is expected to do everything and be the best mom while also simultaneously drowning in her own mental and emotional distress. The woman whose husband is emotionally manipulating because he is a narcissistic piece of sh*t who goes off and has brunch with friends or dinner with his mistress while she is at home barely surviving while raising her kids. A medical system that continues to fail women, each and every day. The society that is gaslighting her, telling her she has to be a good mom and keep going because it is part of “her job”.

I sat in my bed and cried and got f*cking angry! I got angry first and then so sad. I am not a conspiracy theorist; I am just a deeply intuitive woman who has been the victim of manipulation and control by men and can spot it from a mile away. Women are watching this and screaming at the screens, knowing what it feels like because many of us have been there and are still there.

What is happening in the world right now isn’t opening our eyes to what is wrong; we know what is wrong because we live it every damn day. It is pushing us to do something about it. To no longer stay quiet. To wake up from the delusion that everything is fine when it is not. To look at our own lives and see where we need to stand up for ourselves, for our children, for our sisters, for our ancestors who couldn’t.

As I sat in my bed crying, I held the younger version of myself that was abused and manipulated by a man and a system that did nothing to protect her. I held the woman who let men gaslight her and shame her for wanting more. I held the weight of the woman who has done so much healing and inner work, yet still let people cross her boundaries and take advantage of her because she was conditioned to keep the peace. I held the woman who feels so much fear that the same thing will happen to her daughter. I held the woman who is angry that she even has to worry about that. Because we do.

We live in a world that does not protect women and children. We live in a world that protects the interests of men. And if you do not agree, that is fine. BUT OPEN YOUR EYES. What is happening in the world is and has been showing us this for centuries. The South Node in Leo with Jupiter in Leo is just making it so big that you cannot look away anymore. You cannot live with this anymore. Our children cannot grow up in a world that allows this.

Your life is reflecting a larger issue. What are you going to do about it?

That is what has been coming up for me. Relating it back to my own life and how these same power dynamics have been playing out for me, and how I was just dealing with it. NO MORE!

It is uncomfortable to confront this; trust me, I hate it too, but if you don’t, you keep this broken system going. And I don’t know about you, but I am tired of it. I want my daughter to live in a world that protects her, not represses her or abuses her. I want my daughter and future generations to feel safe to fully live, wild and free.

So what am I going to do about it? I am going to send the email reply to my co-parent, maintaining boundaries in the best interests of my child and me, even when it creates more drama, because guess what: when you hold a boundary with someone who is abusing their power, they don’t like it. I am going to keep loving myself through the uncomfortable feeling that life is heavy and that this broken system is not helping.

I am going to stay open-hearted and believe the best in this world, even when what I see makes me question it daily. I am going to keep writing and sharing because women need to feel like they have each other and that there are allies out there. That you are not alone. I am going to keep saying that what you feel and do matters. Let yourself feel and then let yourself do something about it. Write about it. Talk about it. Move the energy so it doesn't build up to an unmanageable point that is killing you.

I don’t know who needed this today, and to be honest, I needed this today, so maybe that is the point. Less about how others take something and more about what you.

I am sending love out there to all of you who are crying too. You are not alone, and I see you. Let’s do something about it!

love & stardust,

Ashley

Okay… hear me out.

You finally pull out the containers that have been sitting in the back for who knows how long. You wipe down the shelves. You throw away the vegetables you had every intention of eating. You discover the mysterious sticky substance that has somehow been living underneath the produce drawer.

And suddenly, you can breathe.

The desire to clean out your fridge is really the desire to clean out all the old pieces of life that have fallen through the cracks and quietly started creating a mess.

The drawer you keep avoiding. The email you still haven’t answered. The pile of clothes waiting to be donated. The appointment you need to make. The conversation you keep putting off. The thought you replay every night before bed.

All those little mundane things you need to get to but never do eventually add up.

They become clutter.

And clutter doesn’t only exist in our homes. It exists in our minds, our bodies, our relationships, and our energetic fields. Eventually, we spend so much energy navigating around the mess that there isn’t much room left for anything new.

Welcome to Virgo season.

Virgo understands something deeply sacred about tending to what is directly in front of us. There is spirituality in folding the clothes. There is healing in cleaning out the closet. There is ritual in preparing your food, organizing your calendar, tending your garden, taking your vitamins, answering the email, and finally doing the thing you’ve been telling yourself you’ll get to later.

We often think transformation needs to be BIG. But sometimes the most transformative thing you can do is clean your kitchen.

Because every time you tend to your physical world, you’re sending yourself a message:

My life is worthy of my attention.

And this week, with a Full Moon Eclipse in Pisces opposing all of this Virgo energy, there is something even deeper happening.

Virgo asks us to tend to the physical world.

Pisces reminds us there is an invisible one running alongside it.

One asks us to clean the container.

The other asks us to surrender what we can no longer carry.

Maybe that’s the ritual this week.

Clear what has accumulated so you can hear what spirit wants to fill the space with next.

*Listen to the voice note above for a deeper dive into this energy and then read the daily breakdown below.

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Your plant and animal allies for the week

Chamomile — Inner Peace

Chamomile carries the energy of both the Sun and Moon: softness, purity, warmth, and graceful power.

Its medicine this week is particularly connected to the nervous system, stomach, and solar plexus- the places where we so often store the stresses we tell ourselves aren’t a big deal.

Because the little things add up. The small frustration. The unanswered message. The task you keep postponing. The resentment you haven’t acknowledged. The five-minute problem you’ve spent three weeks avoiding.

Eventually, the nervous system begins carrying all of it.

Chamomile asks:

What could you tend to now before it becomes something heavier?

Inner peace isn’t always something we find through meditation. Sometimes we create it by finally dealing with what has been quietly disturbing it.

Wolf — Ritual + Letting Go

Wolf is reliable, fearless, protective, and deeply connected to ritual.

Its medicine reminds us that letting go is not a single event. It is a practice.

We release. We return. We discover another layer. We release again.

This feels especially important as we approach Thursday’s Pisces Eclipse. There may be something you’ve already decided to release that your body, habits, or emotional patterns are still holding onto.

Create a ritual around the release.

Write it down.

Burn it.

Clean it out.

Donate it.

Delete it.

Say goodbye.

Let the physical act tell your psyche: We don’t live here anymore.

Turtle — Ancient Soul

Turtle is grounded, trusting, and completely at home within itself.

There is no rushing Turtle. It carries its home wherever it goes.

Turtle is also connected with the writer and storyteller, which gives us a beautiful question to carry through this eclipse:

What story are you ready to write now?

Not the story you’ve been repeating.

Not the story someone else wrote for you.

Not the story you’ve outgrown but continue telling because it’s familiar.

The next one.

Go inward this week. Your ancient self may have something to say.

Speaking of tapping into your goddess wisdom and writing a new story, if you live in Denver, come join me and my dear friend Jacki at our Eclipse event this Thursday to enter the temple of Pisces and rewrite your goddess story. Bring a friend and grab your spot here!

Monday, August 24

Void Moon in Capricorn

Moon conjunct Juno Retrograde in Capricorn

We begin the week in a liminal space, as the Moon is void in Capricorn all day, making this a much better energy for tending to what already exists than for forcing something new into motion.

And with the Moon meeting Juno retrograde, relationships, agreements, responsibilities, and commitments may come up for review.

Where have you committed yourself out of obligation rather than alignment?

Where are you carrying a responsibility that no longer belongs to you?

This is very much a clean out the proverbial junk drawer kind of day.

Don’t reinvent your life.

Tend to it.

Work with it:

• Finish something you’ve been putting off.

• Clean or organize one neglected space.

• Review your commitments.

• Tie up loose ends.

• Ask: What am I maintaining simply because I’ve always maintained it?

Tuesday, August 25

Moon enters Aquarius

Mercury enters Virgo

Mercury trine Chiron in Taurus

Mercury enters Virgo, one of the signs where Mercury is traditionally strongest, helping us notice details, identify patterns, and figure out what actually needs our attention.

And its trine to Chiron in Taurus suggests that practical awareness can become healing.

You don’t necessarily need another profound revelation.

Maybe you need a better routine.

Maybe you need to make the appointment.

Maybe you need to change what you’re eating, reorganize your schedule, create a budget, or stop doing the thing your body keeps telling you doesn’t feel good.

Healing can be practical.

Work with it:

• Make the appointment.

• Create the list.

• Solve one lingering problem.

• Listen to what your body has been communicating.

• Change one small habit.

• Ask: What simple adjustment would make my life feel better?

Wednesday, August 26

Moon in Aquarius conjunct Hekate

We meet Hekate at the crossroads. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect.

We’re standing one day before a Full Moon Eclipse, and something may feel like it is reaching a threshold.

Hekate doesn’t necessarily tell you which road to take. She hands you the torch. She reminds you that you already possess the wisdom necessary to navigate the uncertainty.

You don’t need every answer before taking the next step.

You need enough light to see the step directly in front of you.

Work with it:

• Create space for solitude.

• Pull cards or journal.

• Pay attention to synchronicities.

• Light a candle and ask for guidance.

• Notice where you’re standing at a crossroads.

• Ask: What do I already know?

Thursday, August 27

Full Moon Eclipse in Pisces

Sun conjunct Mercury in Virgo

Here we are. The Virgo-Pisces axis is the meeting place between the mundane and the mystical.

Virgo asks:

What needs tending?

Pisces asks:

What needs surrendering?

Virgo organizes the altar.

Pisces speaks to the gods.

Virgo cleans the vessel.

Pisces fills it with Spirit.

And this eclipse may illuminate where we’ve become so consumed with controlling, fixing, organizing, analyzing, or understanding our lives that we’ve forgotten how to surrender to them.

With the Sun conjunct Mercury in Virgo, the mind wants answers.

Pisces may not give them.

Instead, something may simply become clear because you finally stop trying to make sense of it.

Eclipses have their own timing. I wouldn’t force manifestation or demand clarity today.

Listen.

Observe.

Release.

Work with it:

• Create a simple release ritual.

• Cleanse your physical space.

• Take a bath or spend time near water.

• Journal what you’re ready to stop carrying.

• Pay attention to dreams and intuition.

• Let something end without immediately deciding what replaces it.

• Ask: What am I ready to surrender?

Friday, August 28

Moon in Pisces opposite Circe in Virgo

Sun + Mercury in Virgo square Uranus in Gemini

Yesterday’s eclipse may have opened something and today could rearrange it.

Uranus brings disruption, breakthroughs, surprises, and sudden changes in perspective. With both the Sun and Mercury squaring Uranus, plans may change quickly, or information could arrive that forces you to see something differently.

Stay flexible.

Circe adds another interesting layer.

The mythic witch reminds us of our ability to transform circumstances through knowledge, intention, and our relationship with our own power.

You may not be able to control what happens. But you get to decide what you make of it.

Work with it:

• Leave room in your schedule.

• Don’t panic if plans change.

• Write down sudden ideas.

• Notice unexpected information.

• Resist the urge to control the outcome.

• Ask: What is this disruption trying to show me?

Saturday, August 29

Void Moon in Pisces All Day

Do less. Seriously.

We have just moved through a Pisces Eclipse followed by Uranian disruption. Your nervous system may need a minute.

The Pisces void Moon isn’t interested in productivity for productivity’s sake.

Rest.

Wander.

Nap.

Make art.

Take a bath.

Read something beautiful.

Sit outside and stare at the sky.

Let your mind have some empty space.

Remember Chamomile; it makes a great tea!

Peace needs somewhere to land.

Work with it:

• Rest without making it productive.

• Take a social media break.

• Spend time near water.

• Make art or listen to music.

• Drink some chamomile tea.

• Let yourself simply be.

Sunday, August 30

Moon in Aries conjunct Saturn + Neptune

And then something begins again.

The Moon moves into Aries and meets both Saturn and Neptune, bringing together dream and reality.

Neptune asks:

What do you imagine?

Saturn asks:

What are you willing to do about it?

This is where the magic of the mundane comes full circle.

You can have the vision. You can receive the intuition. You can perform the ritual.

But eventually, you have to participate in creating the life you’re asking for.

The dream needs devotion.

Work with it:

• Choose one intention for the week ahead.

• Take one tangible step toward a dream.

• Create a ritual or routine that supports your vision.

• Move your body.

• Don’t overwhelm yourself with the entire plan.

• Ask: What can I begin tending today?

The Message for the Week

Maybe the sacred isn’t somewhere outside your ordinary life. Maybe it is your ordinary life.

The cup of tea.

The freshly washed sheets.

The vegetables you chop for dinner.

The walk around the neighborhood.

The journal beside your bed.

The five minutes you spend cleaning the kitchen.

The boundary you finally uphold.

The appointment you finally make.

The thing you finally throw away.

This is ritual too.

Virgo season reminds us that the way we tend to the smallest pieces of our lives becomes the way we tend to our lives as a whole.

And this Pisces Eclipse asks us to release whatever has accumulated inside the spaces we’ve neglected.

So clean something this week.

Your refrigerator.

Your closet.

Your inbox.

Your schedule.

Your mind.

Your heart.

Make some room.

Then resist the urge to immediately fill it.

Sit inside the emptiness for a moment.

Listen.

Because spirit has been trying to give you something new... but first, it needed somewhere to put it.

love & stardust,

Ashley

What it will do is release pent-up energy. It will make you more human. And news flash, you are. You are not living an incarnation of Jesus or Buddha, so stop holding yourself to that status. Very few souls living on earth right now are that evolved. Why? Because you came here to be human, so be human.

And this human is f*cking TIRED. And no, I am not tired because I am perimenopausal and need to purchase some supplements that cost as much as my monthly grocery bill and most likely contain filler and crappy ingredients because the supplement industry is a joke and all about the money. And no, I am not tired because I need more sleep and I am not taking care of myself. Because guess what, I wake up at the ass crack of dawn each morning to do what I love and am passionate about before my daughter wakes up. I have to go to my full-time job where I don’t get compensated enough because I am a woman who speaks her truth, which bruised the ego of the male leadership, but guess what, I have no right to legal action because the system is broken and working in favor of the man.

Let’s not even go into the fact that, as a creative and spiritual entrepreneur, I’m also expected to like and comment on a certain number of posts just to be seen. WTF?! Who has time for that? It doesn’t mean I don’t want to connect, but I am trying to live over here, people. I put out content that pours from my body and soul, and still it is not enough to meet some algorithm. And NO, it doesn’t mean my life is out of alignment; it f*cking means the system is broken, and we live in a society that pushes hustle culture, and people expect free information allllllll the time. It is an energy exchange and should be treated as such. Thank you to all of you who see it that way too xo

Okay back at it….

No, I am tired because I’m a single mom in this economy paying for a mortgage that is too high because of these damn interest rates, but still refuses to enter or stay in a relationship with a man who can’t do his own inner work and f*cking show up. STOP trying to fit me into an outdated societal construct that only benefits the man, not the woman. I would rather be single than put up with a whiny ass man who bypasses his work and expects the woman to take care of him. I am open to a relationship with the healed masculine, so if you know one, send him my way ;) Other than that…I am happy not having to give what little energy I have left to an unfulfilling relationship with a man.

This is me being human AND a soul who questions her decision to come back EVERY SINGLE DAY but who also loves this experience too. The delimna.

You feel me?!

I give you full permission to vent in the comments! Let’s be human together xo

love & stardust,

Ashley

This week feels like receiving.

We are still moving through eclipse season, so there is an element of uncertainty in the air. Plans change. People surprise us. Doors close. Unexpected ones open. The path may not look anything like the one you thought you were walking.

And this is where trust comes in.

You don’t have to understand where everything is leading while you’re living it. Sometimes what feels like disruption is actually course correction. What feels like uncertainty is creating space for something you couldn’t have planned yourself.

This week’s message is simple:

Remain open to the mystery of the journey.

YOUR ALLIES FOR THE WEEK

HAWK — Course Redirection

Fate has its eye on you, and the winds are shifting.

Hawk asks you to zoom out. What looks confusing from where you’re standing may make perfect sense from a higher perspective.

Pay attention to unexpected changes, synchronicities, and redirections this week.

Maybe you’re not being thrown off course.

Maybe you’re being put back on it.

UNICORN — Higher Wisdom

Unicorn asks you to reconnect with the part of yourself that believes in what cannot always be explained.

Spirit. Intuition. Synchronicity. Divine timing. Your higher self.

Be curious about your relationship with the unseen this week.

You don’t need proof for everything you know.

Be unwavering in your belief that there is more happening than what you can currently see.

ASHWAGANDHA — Divine Purpose

Connected with North Node + Moon energy, Ashwagandha speaks to destiny, your future self, and the divine gifts waiting to be received.

And its message couldn’t be more perfect for eclipse season:

You don’t need to know the entirety of your purpose in order to pursue it.

Take the next step and let the rest reveal itself.

Want to dive into your path to purpose?! Take my online course or book a reading with me and let’s dive into this journey together.

MONDAY | AUGUST 17

Mercury in Leo trine Saturn in Aries
Venus in Libra sextile Jupiter in Leo
Mars in Cancer square Neptune in Aries
Moon void → Scorpio at 3:46 PM MT

There is beautiful supportive energy today for making plans, having meaningful conversations, and believing in what’s possible.

But Mars square Neptune adds some fog. You may know where you ultimately want to go without knowing exactly how you’re going to get there.

Don’t force the how.

Mercury-Saturn says make the plan you can make. Venus-Jupiter says remain optimistic about what you can’t control.

Work with it:

• Make practical plans without demanding certainty.

• Enjoy connection, beauty, and pleasure.

• Don’t act impulsively when something feels unclear.

• Let the void Moon create space instead of filling it.

• Ask: What if I trusted the missing pieces will reveal themselves?

TUESDAY | AUGUST 18

Moon in Scorpio square Jupiter in Leo

Feelings can get BIG today. Scorpio wants emotional truth while Jupiter in Leo can magnify whatever is already present.

Before assuming something is a sign that everything is going wrong, zoom out.

Remember your Hawk ally.

Perspective changes everything.

What feels enormous in this moment may simply be asking you to see the situation differently.

Work with it:

• Feel without catastrophizing.

• Notice emotional exaggeration.

• Dig beneath your initial reaction.

• Give yourself time before making assumptions.

• Ask: What might I see differently from a higher perspective?

WEDNESDAY | AUGUST 19

First Quarter Moon in Scorpio

Now, eclipse intentions begin to ask something of you.

First Quarter Moons create tension because growth requires movement. Scorpio isn’t interested in surface-level change either.

Something may need to be confronted, released, or transformed before you can move forward.

This is where trust becomes an action rather than an idea.

Work with it:

• Take one courageous step forward.

• Have the uncomfortable conversation.

• Release something you’ve been gripping too tightly.

• Notice where fear is creating resistance.

• Ask: What would I do next if I trusted where life was taking me?

THURSDAY | AUGUST 20

Moon enters Sagittarius
Moon trine Neptune in Aries

The energy begins to open again. Sagittarius reminds us that life is an adventure, while Neptune reconnects us with intuition, imagination, spirituality, and the unseen.

This feels like a beautiful Unicorn day.

Let yourself believe in magic again.

Follow the synchronicity. Pull the cards. Meditate. Ask for a sign. Take the long way home.

Become curious about the Universe again.

Work with it:

• Follow your intuition.

• Explore something new.

• Journal about your future self.

• Notice synchronicities.

• Do something that expands your perspective.

• Ask: What if the Universe really is communicating with me?

FRIDAY | AUGUST 21

Venus in Libra opposite Saturn in Aries

Today may test your trust through relationships, self-worth, money, or something you deeply desire.

Saturn can make something feel delayed, unavailable, or more serious than we’d like.

But a delay isn’t always a denial.

Sometimes Saturn asks us whether we truly value something enough to build it slowly and intentionally.

Don’t let one difficult moment become a story about your worthiness.

Work with it:

• Notice where rejection fears arise.

• Don’t chase validation.

• Have mature conversations about relationships.

• Get clear about your standards.

• Ask: Can I trust what is meant for me without forcing it?

SATURDAY | AUGUST 22

SUN ENTERS VIRGO

Welcome to Virgo season.

After weeks of fiery Leo energy and eclipse intensity, Virgo brings us back to earth.

The vision needs tending.

The dream needs structure.

Your future self is built through the small choices you make today.

You don’t need to know your entire purpose.

Just tend to the next step.

Work with it:

• Clean your space.

• Revisit your routines.

• Nourish your body.

• Organize something you’ve been avoiding.

• Choose one habit your future self will thank you for.

SUNDAY | AUGUST 23

Sun in Virgo trine Chiron in Taurus

We end the week with beautiful healing earth energy.

Virgo and Taurus bring the spiritual journey back into the body.

Healing doesn’t always require another revelation. Sometimes healing looks like taking care of yourself differently because you finally believe you’re worthy of being cared for.

Let your body show you how far you’ve come.

Work with it:

• Tend to your body.

• Spend time in nature.

• Nourish yourself.

• Recognize your growth.

• Do something that creates safety and stability.

• Ask: What does my future self need me to begin tending today?

HEY DENVER FRIENDS!! Join me next week for a closing out of the eclipse portal and of a two-year cycle at my Temple of Pisces event on August 27th from 6-8pm!

You can grab your early bird spot here: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/welcome-to-the-temple-of-pisces-an-evening-with-the-eclipse-tickets-1992464903161

MESSAGE FOR THE WEEK

I trust the Universe is always ten steps ahead of me.

Maybe you can’t see why something is changing.

Maybe you don’t understand the redirection.

Maybe you know you’re being called toward something but have absolutely no idea how you’re going to get there.

You don’t need the whole map.

Your job isn’t to figure out the entire journey.

Your job is to remain open enough to recognize the next step when it appears.

Fate has its eye on you. The winds are shifting. Let them carry you somewhere new.

love & stardust,

Ashley

I always thought that scene was weird, but now I appreciate it. Because isn’t that life? A wild ride full of uncertainty and adventure where fears are confronted and surrender is necessary. You will always end up where you are meant to be, but not without a few WTF moments.

That is the energy of an eclipse, especially a Total Solar Eclipse, which we have happening in the sign of Leo this week.

Before you go freaking out about this eclipse because of the movie scene I referenced, I want you to know it is a metaphor for confronting the deepest parts of yourself. The nightmares your mind creates when life gets uncertain. And when you do not trust that you are always guided and protected. Think back to how many times in your life you thought about the worst-case scenario, only to have things work out for you. What about a time when you got so caught up in the fear of getting hurt that you blocked a beautiful connection or opportunity?

The mind is a powerful part of the human experience, but when it starts to override the heart, that's when things get scary.

THAT is the energy of this week.

Besides a powerful eclipse in the sign of Leo, which rules the heart, we also have a week packed with aspects involving Mercury in Leo and Venus in Libra. The head and the heart are both speaking to you; which one will take center stage?

Take a listen to the voice note above to drop in and reflect on this energy at play.

This picture above was taken of me on New Year's Eve 2013. I was heartbroken, in pain, and headed out to try and have a good time with my friends. I love this picture because it shows the tattoo I had recently gotten, which was a quote from a book I read. “Life is a journey from the head to the heart.” And it shows that even when the heart is hurting, you can still love yourself through it. You can still have trust that it will mend. And you can still go out with your friends and dance your way into a new beginning.

My point is that when you let your heart lead, you win. When you let your mind keep you trapped in the fear of what could happen, you lose.

Choose your heart this week. Choose your heart every single day! Follow it. Trust it. Nourish it. Appreciate it. And let your light shine through it.

Fear is inevitable, but love is constant.

Let’s dive into the daily breakdown for the astrology this week….

Monday, August 10

Venus in Libra opposite Neptune in Aries
Venus in Libra trine Pluto in Aquarius

We begin the week inside that metaphorical Wonka tunnel. Venus opposite Neptune can blur the line between intuition and projection, especially when it comes to love, relationships, desires, and what we believe will make us happy.

The mind may start creating stories around what could happen. But Venus trine Pluto wants you to go beneath those stories and find the deeper truth.

What do you actually feel underneath the fear?

This is a day to recognize the difference between a fear created by your mind and a truth whispered by your heart.

Work with it:

• Question the stories you’re telling yourself.

• Notice where fear is masquerading as intuition.

• Choose honesty over fantasy.

• Let relationships reveal something deeper about yourself.

• Ask: What does my heart know that my mind keeps questioning?

Tuesday, August 11

Mercury in Leo trine Neptune in Aries
Mercury in Leo opposite Pluto in Aquarius
Venus in Libra trine Uranus in Gemini
Mars enters Cancer

There is a LOT happening.

Mercury-Neptune opens your intuitive mind, while Mercury-Pluto can bring buried thoughts, fears, and truths rushing to the surface. You may suddenly recognize a belief that has been quietly controlling your choices.

And Venus trine Uranus says: What if you did something different?

A relationship, conversation, idea, or unexpected opportunity could remind you that your future doesn’t have to look anything like your past.

Mars entering Cancer adds another layer: protect what matters, but be careful not to build walls around your heart simply because you’ve been hurt before.

Work with it:

• Pay attention to intuitive downloads.

• Notice obsessive or fear-based thinking.

• Have the conversation you’ve been avoiding.

• Stay open to unexpected connections.

• Protect your heart without closing it.

• Ask: Am I making this choice from fear or love?

Wednesday, August 12

TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE IN LEO
Mercury in Leo sextile Uranus in Gemini
Mars in Cancer sextile Chiron in Taurus

Welcome to the tunnel.

Eclipses carry us through liminal spaces where we can’t always see exactly where we’re going. And that uncertainty can make the mind create some pretty wild stories.

But this eclipse is happening in Leo- the sign of the heart.

You aren’t being asked to predict what happens next. You’re being asked to trust yourself enough to keep moving through the unknown.

Mercury sextile Uranus can bring a breakthrough in how you see your situation, while Mars-Chiron reminds us that sometimes healing requires doing the thing that once scared us.

Something new is emerging.

Don’t let an old fear convince you to turn around.

Work with it:

• Don’t force answers today.

• Notice what life is revealing.

• Let yourself move through uncertainty.

• Follow what makes you feel alive.

• Take one courageous step beyond an old wound.

• Ask: Where is my heart trying to lead me?

Thursday, August 13

Mercury in Leo sextile Venus in Libra

After the intensity of the eclipse, Mercury and Venus bring the head and heart into conversation.

And maybe that’s the lesson.

Your mind isn’t the enemy. We need our minds. We need discernment, thought, and reason. But problems arise when fear becomes louder than love.

Today gives you an opportunity to let the two work together.

Say what you mean. Tell someone how you feel. Write something from your heart. Let yourself be vulnerable enough to be known.

Work with it:

• Speak from your heart.

• Tell someone how you really feel.

• Write, create, or share.

• Listen as much as you speak.

• Let yourself receive love, too.

Friday, August 14

Moon enters Virgo

After several days of big cosmic energy, Virgo brings us back into the body.

Sometimes when the mind gets overwhelmed, the best medicine is incredibly simple.

Drink water. Eat something nourishing. Clean your house. Go outside. Put your bare feet on the earth. Take care of what’s directly in front of you.

You don’t have to understand everything that’s happening.

Just tend to yourself while it’s happening.

Work with it:

• Nourish your body.

• Clean and organize your space.

• Get outside.

• Step away from overthinking.

• Focus on the next small thing.

Saturday, August 15

Mercury conjunct Jupiter in Leo

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.

Mercury meets Jupiter in Leo, and suddenly the mind remembers possibility.

After confronting fears earlier this week, today asks you to imagine what could happen if things actually worked out.

We spend so much time rehearsing worst-case scenarios.

What about the best-case scenario?

What if the relationship works? What if the opportunity arrives? What if you succeed? What if you’re more capable than you’ve allowed yourself to believe?

Work with it:

• Dream bigger.

• Write down your best-case scenario.

• Share your ideas.

• Speak confidently about what you want.

• Celebrate yourself.

• Ask: What if this turns out better than I imagined?

Sunday, August 16

Moon in Libra

We end the week where Venus began it: with love.

After traveling through fear, uncertainty, revelations, and possibility, the Libra Moon reminds us to return to what makes life beautiful.

Relationships. Art. Friendship. Music. Pleasure. Connection.

You don’t have to spend your entire life preparing for something to go wrong.

You are allowed to enjoy being here.

Work with it:

• Spend time with people you love.

• Make something beautiful.

• Go somewhere that inspires you.

• Let yourself receive.

• Choose peace where you can.

• Do something your heart loves.

MESSAGE FOR THE WEEK

Maybe life really is one long journey from the head to the heart.

There will be moments when you can’t see what’s ahead. Moments when your mind creates every possible worst-case scenario. Moments when you want certainty before you’re willing to move.

But your heart doesn’t need to know exactly how the story ends to recognize what feels true.

Choose your heart this week.

Follow it.
Trust it.
Nourish it.
Appreciate it.
Let your light shine through it.

love & stardust,

Ashley

The first thing I did was say hi to spirit and acknowledge that this meant something for me. I always do that. Whenever spirit gives me a message, I pause and accept it with gratitude. Like when driving in the car with my daughter and a hawk flies above us, we both say, “Hi Spirit” every time without fail. Why, you might ask? Because the more you talk to and acknowledge spirit, and especially thank them, the more messages you receive. That is 1000x more potent than any numerological portal that social media has overdramatized (very fitting for Leo season).

Spirit is trying to work with you every single day. You do not need a special day or reason to connect with your guides; you need trust and gratitude. Manifestation happens through a reciprocal relationship with spirit. Waiting for a special portal to ask spirit for allllll the things you want in life feels really one-sided, and guess what, they feel that too. Spirit has feelings like us. Spirit has a sense of humor AND seriousness. But they are always on your side, through everything and in every moment, waiting for you to pause and talk to them. Waiting for you to grab a cup of coffee and give thanks for their presence.

The Lion’s Gate portal is like the spiritual community's version of Valentine’s Day. It has been taken over by the marketing gurus and turned into a gimmick. Reduced to a very ego-centric day, that spirit is sitting up there watching us and shaking their heads. When we do that, we limit and reduce the truth of manifestation. Just like Valentine’s Day has done with celebrating love. It is something we need to be doing daily because it exists daily.

As I write this, I am connected to spirit, and they are not upset; they are just laughing. Saying, if they only knew how much we are with them and always working for them. They wouldn’t need to wait for a “portal” to open and receive our love and abundance.

Today, I encourage you to create a line of communication with your guides. Ask them for a sign of their presence, and begin to develop a ritual of tapping in. Not just today, but every day. Your guides might show up as birds, animals, songs, images, etc. Each of us receives messages differently. The most important thing is that you pay attention!

Once you open up a solid line of communication, that is where real manifestation begins. In the mundane moments. In the little acknowledgments of their presence. In the gratitude of their guidance.

As I write that line, I look up at where the candle was burning and smile. I am grateful they sent me a message today and nudged me to write this. I know it is meant to find somebody and inspire them to deepen their connection with spirit.

I hope this resonates with you, and I wouldn’t be me if I didn't call out BS. When we believe or overattach to days like today, we disempower ourselves and our guides. We put too much emphasis on an external factor when the real power lies within your connection to yourself and spirit.

love & stardust,

Ashley

There is something noticeably softer when Venus moves through Libra. The conversations become gentler. Beauty catches our attention again. We remember how much our environments affect our nervous systems. We crave connection, meaningful conversation, fresh flowers on the table, music that moves us, and relationships that feel reciprocal rather than transactional.

When Venus is in Libra, she reminds us that harmony is not something we stumble upon. It is something we create. But this year, Venus isn’t simply passing through one of her signs.

She is preparing us.

Because in October, Venus stations retrograde in Scorpio before backing into Libra later that month. She will spend all of November retracing her steps through the sign of partnership before finally leaving Libra on December 4th.

That means this week’s Venus ingress isn’t simply a beginning. It’s the opening chapter of a story that will ask to be rewritten.

The people you meet.

The relationships that deepen.

The desires that quietly emerge.

The values that suddenly become non-negotiable.

The places where you compromise yourself to keep the peace.

Pay attention, as these are likely the very themes Venus will invite you back to during her retrograde journey.

Venus Doesn’t Move in Straight Lines

One of my favorite things about astrology is that it constantly reminds us that nature works in cycles and that nothing truly moves in a straight line.

Not healing.

Not relationships.

Not our soul evolution.

Venus is perhaps the most beautiful example of this.

Every eighteen months, Venus appears to slow down, station retrograde, disappear from our evening sky, and eventually emerge again before sunrise.

From Earth, it looks like she vanishes.

Ancient astrologers didn’t see this as something frightening. They saw it as sacred.

Because Venus wasn’t lost.

She was descending. Passing through the heart of the Sun to be renewed.

The Rose Written Across the Sky

If you were to map every Venus cycle over an eight-year period, something extraordinary appears… Not metaphorically, but astronomically.

Every eighteen months, Venus begins tracing another petal across the heavens. Each retrograde marks the point where one petal ends and another begins. Slowly, over eight years, she draws one of nature’s most recognizable symbols across the sky.

A rose. The flower that has represented love, devotion, beauty, death, and rebirth for thousands of years.

I don’t believe that’s an accident, as the cosmos have always spoken through symbols.

Perhaps the ancients knew something we’ve forgotten- that love was never meant to be linear. It unfolds in spirals.

Returning us to familiar places, not because we’ve failed, but because we’re ready to meet them differently.

The Final Petal

This upcoming Venus retrograde is especially significant because it begins the final petal of the current eight-year Venus synodic cycle.

The last chapter.

The final bloom.

The completion of a story that began back in 2020.

Take yourself back there for a moment.

• Who were you becoming?

• What relationships began or ended?

• What did you learn about love?

• About worthiness?

• About partnership?

• About what you were willing to accept and what you no longer can?

The world has changed dramatically since then and so have you.

This final petal isn’t asking you to repeat the past. It’s asking you to integrate it.

To gather every lesson from the previous eight years and weave them into someone who loves more honestly, receives more fully, and chooses from a place of self-respect rather than self-sacrifice.

Forty Days in the Fire

When Venus stations retrograde, she disappears from our evening sky for roughly forty days.

She becomes invisible.

Ancient cultures viewed this as Venus entering the underworld. Passing through the heart of the Sun. Being burned clean and transformed.

It reminds me that there are seasons in our own lives when the heart asks us to disappear from the noise.

To stop chasing.

To stop performing.

To stop seeking validation outside ourselves.

Forty days has long been considered a sacred period of transformation across spiritual traditions. It is enough time for something old to die and something new to take root.

Perhaps that is why Venus chooses this rhythm.

The heart cannot evolve overnight. It asks for devotion to your own self-love practice.

Evening Star Becomes Morning Star

During every retrograde, Venus undergoes another symbolic transformation.

She shifts from Evening Star to Morning Star.

As the Evening Star, Venus follows the Sun. She reflects, gathers, and integrates. She teaches us what we value and what brings beauty into our lives.

But when she emerges as the Morning Star, she rises before the Sun. She no longer follows the light. She announces it.

This is a different expression of Venus. Less concerned with keeping the peace. More interested in living in truth.

She carries the wisdom earned in the underworld and returns with greater clarity about what the heart can no longer ignore.

That is the invitation awaiting us over the next few months.

Venus Meets Circe

As Venus completes her retrograde journey through Libra, she will align with asteroid goddess Circe.

Most people remember Circe as the enchantress from Homer’s Odyssey- the woman who transformed men into animals.

But beneath the myth that was created by men (eye roll) is a much older and much truer archetype.

Circe is the wise woman. The herbalist. The alchemist. The woman who understands that true magic doesn’t control others- it reveals their nature.

She doesn’t create the beast. She uncovers it.

In Libra, Circe asks us an uncomfortable but liberating question:

Where have you been under a spell?

Perhaps the spell of people-pleasing.

The spell of believing harmony requires self-abandonment.

The spell of confusing chemistry with compatibility.

The spell of earning love instead of receiving it.

Or perhaps the opposite.

Perhaps you’ve been enchanted by old stories that convinced you love had to hurt, beauty had to be perfect, or relationships required losing pieces of yourself.

Circe offers discernment. She hands us the antidote. Not so we become cynical, but so we become conscious. And by the time Venus leaves Libra in December, many of us may realize we weren’t waiting for someone else to change. We were waking from our own enchantment.

For now, simply notice.

Notice what your heart is drawn toward.

Notice the conversations that linger.

Notice who arrives.

Notice who leaves.

Notice what beauty asks you to cultivate.

Notice where resentment quietly reveals an imbalance.

This isn’t the time to force answers. It is the time to pay attention.

Because Venus is coming home. And before the year is over, she will ask each of us one simple question:

What kind of love are you willing to build now that you know your own worth?

A Personal Note

I am a Libra, with both Venus and Circe in Libra in my natal chart. Looking back over my life, I can see that this Venus rose has been quietly unfolding within me. Every petal has marked a chapter of my own becoming- relationships that awakened me, heartbreaks that humbled me, seasons of beauty, seasons of grief, and countless moments that asked me to redefine what love truly is.

For much of my life, my Libra heart believed that love was something to be maintained through harmony. I became incredibly skilled at keeping the peace, seeing every perspective, extending grace, and making room for everyone else. Those are beautiful Libra gifts, but every gift has a shadow.

With Circe in Libra, I’ve come to realize that one of my deepest lessons has been reclaiming the parts of myself that others didn’t know what to do with- my intuition, my channeling, my love of astrology, my connection to the unseen, and the magic that has always felt so natural to me. There have been relationships where those parts of me were questioned, dismissed, misunderstood, or quietly shamed. Somewhere along the way, I learned to soften my edges, make myself more digestible, and abandon pieces of myself in the hope of being loved.

But that’s not love. And that for sure isn’t harmony.

As Venus returns to Libra, I find myself returning to myself. Not to the woman I was eight years ago when this rose first began unfolding, but to the woman those eight years have shaped me into. One who no longer believes that peace requires self-abandonment. One who no longer mistakes people-pleasing for compassion or silence for harmony. One who understands that real love never asks you to shrink your soul to fit inside someone else’s comfort.

As Venus prepares to begin the final petal of this eight-year rose, I can feel something completing within me. I’m closing the chapter on relationships that required me to apologize for my magic, to question my intuition, or to make myself smaller in order to belong.

Instead, I am making space for something beautifully different.

Relationships rooted in reciprocity.

Friendships that celebrate authenticity instead of conformity.

Love that honors the fullness of who I am and who I am still becoming.

* If this resonates with you, I am right there with you and would love to support you in your own cycle of becoming. Book a reading with me here: https://ashleytracey.com/readings

love & stardust,

Ashley

Take a listen to the voice note above for a deep dive into this week ahead and then scroll down to read the daily breakdown.

Your body is speaking to you; are you listening? Here is the Chiron post I mention in the recording:

Monday, August 3

Chiron stations retrograde in Taurus

Healing doesn’t always begin with a breakthrough- it begins with paying attention. As Chiron stations retrograde, your body becomes one of your greatest teachers. Notice where tension lingers, where fatigue keeps returning, or where your nervous system asks you to slow down. The root of what needs healing may not be where you think it is. This transit invites you to move inward and listen.

Work with it:
✨ Slow down and listen to your body.
🌿 Journal about recurring physical or emotional patterns.
🫖 Nourish yourself with rest, grounding foods, and nature.
💚 Ask yourself: What is my body trying to tell me that my mind has been ignoring?

Tuesday, August 4

Moon in Aries
Void Moon until 8:36 PM MT when it enters Taurus

The day begins with fiery Aries energy but quickly moves into a void period, making this less about charging ahead and more about finishing what you’ve already started. As the Moon settles into Taurus tonight, you’ll naturally begin craving more peace, stability, and grounding.

Work with it:
✨ Finish loose ends instead of starting something new.
🌿 Move your body to release excess energy.
🧘 Take breaks and avoid forcing decisions.
🌙 Create a peaceful evening routine once the Moon enters Taurus.

Wednesday, August 5

Moon in Taurus

After the intensity of the last few days, Taurus reminds us that healing happens through presence. This is a beautiful day to reconnect with your body, your senses, and the simple pleasures that remind you life is meant to be enjoyed- not just managed.

Work with it:
🌸 Spend time in nature.
🥗 Nourish yourself with a delicious meal.
💆 Treat yourself to a massage, bath, or restorative movement.
✨ Slow down enough to actually savor your life.

Thursday, August 6

Sun in Leo trine Saturn in Aries
Venus enters Libra (yay!)

Today’s astrology blends courage with commitment. The Sun and Saturn help you build something lasting by taking confident, intentional action. Then Venus returns home to Libra, softening the collective energy and reminding us of the beauty found in relationships, creativity, harmony, and balance.

It’s a wonderful day to invest in yourself and the people you love.

Work with it:
🦁 Take one courageous step toward a long-term goal.
💕 Reach out to someone you care about.
🎨 Beautify your space or create something inspiring.
⚖️ Ask yourself: Where can I bring more balance into my life?

Friday, August 7

Moon enters Gemini

The energy becomes lighter, more curious, and more social. Conversations flow more easily, ideas begin connecting, and your mind is hungry for inspiration. Stay open- you never know which conversation could shift your perspective.

Work with it:
📚 Learn something new.
☕ Meet up with a friend.
✍️ Brainstorm, write, or journal.
🌬 Stay curious instead of assuming you already know the answer.

Saturday, August 8

Moon in Gemini
Moon sextile Sun in Leo
Moon conjunct Mars in Gemini

This is a lively, energetic day filled with movement and motivation. Your mind is active, your words carry power, and your curiosity can open unexpected doors. Just be mindful that Mars can make conversations move quickly, so choose your words intentionally.

Work with it:
✨ Start the creative project you’ve been thinking about.
🚶 Get outside and move your body.
🎙 Share your ideas with confidence.
💛 Pause before reacting—respond with intention instead.

Sunday, August 9

Mercury enters Leo
Mercury square Chiron in Taurus

Mercury in Leo encourages you to speak boldly from your heart, but its square to Chiron reminds us that finding our voice often brings old wounds to the surface first. You may notice fears around being seen, expressing yourself, or believing your ideas matter.

The invitation isn’t to stay quiet.

It’s to speak anyway.

Work with it:
🦁 Say the thing you’ve been afraid to say.
✍️ Journal about where you silence yourself.
💛 Offer yourself compassion if old insecurities arise.
🔥 Let your voice become part of your healing.

UPCOMING EVENTS:

Thursday, August 20th THE VINTAGE EDIT | A Night of Thrift, Vintage & Cocktails

Thursday, August 27th WELCOME TO THE TEMPLE OF PISCES / An Evening with the Eclipse

If you live in the Denver area, I would LOVE to connect in person! Hope to see you there xo

love & stardust,

Ashley

The goddess no one wants to talk about. She lives in the shadow, the dark of night, and the vast cosmic spaces that can feel like a void in time. She is Nyx- a primordial goddess who emerged as the dawn of creation.

The brightest truths are not found in the glare of the sun. They are whispered in the velvet dark where all things begin. It is where the greatest creative force lives.

Nyx in astrology is asteroid #3908, and she represents how you navigate and deal with your shadow self. Every single one of us, every single zodiac sign, house, etc., carries both the light and the dark. Balancing these creates the archetype astrologers use to describe how these zodiac archetypes play out in your personality and life.

I am bringing her up today because she is currently in the astrology of the Sun-Jupiter conjunction, which is opposing the Full Moon in Aquarius. So, all this talk about growth, opportunity, and expansion is also connected to your ability to see the shadow side of yourself, your goals, and your approach to them. Can you see all sides? Can you stare into the void and make friends with your shadow? Because that is where your greatest creative energy lives. In the night, lit up by the light of the stars.

Nyx is a powerful goddess who scares the gods themselves because she will show them where their ego and fear are ruling their lives. You cannot hide from her, as she will show you that the most profound creation emerges from stillness and shadow. From looking into the void with awe and true understanding of what is required of you.

Recently I have been reading Nikita Gill’s book “Hekate: The Witch” and can I say…I fucking love this book! Please go grab a copy and dive in. Anyways, in this mythological story we meet the goddess Nyx, and as soon as she was introduced, I felt an instant knowing that she and I had a strong connection, so, you know, I had to look her up in my birth chart.

Nyx sits at the 29th degree of Scorpio in my 10th house, conjunct my Midheaven, which basically means she has a major influence on my mission in life and how I am meant to show up in this world. I feel this deeply. One thing I have always said about myself, specifically as an astrologer, is that I will not tell you what you want to hear but what you need to hear for your greatest good. For you to see all aspects of yourself, so that you feel empowered to move forward in this life. I do not do pop astrology and never will. It literally makes me cringe to stay on the surface…I must go deep. Deep down into the abyss of the soul. That is where you find your truth. The truth of your soul and your path in this life.

Ahhh, when the astrology hits, it hits. You can’t hide from it, just like you can’t hide from Nyx.

WANT TO DEEP DIVE INTO THE GODDESS ENERGY IN YOUR CHART? Book a Goddess Within reading with me!

As I tune into Nyx and channel her energy, she wants you to sit with the following questions during this Full Moon:

1. In what ways do you avoid your shadow? Can you befriend the dark parts of yourself along with the light? Can you honor both?

2. How can you embrace the creative potential that comes with stillness? with intuition? with rest?

3. What is stirring deep beneath the surface of what your ego believes it wants?

4. Where can you better embrace your creative flow?

   ---

The womb sees no light but knows how to make a miracle. Go into that space. Give that part of yourself the acknowledgment it craves. Love it. Live from it. And most importantly, create from it.

love & stardust,

Ashley

So, you have a choice. Do I go with what has always been, or do I take a chance and try something new and unknown?

That is the question for this week ahead as we step into a Full Moon in Aquarius on Wednesday, July 29th, which illuminates the new cycle that has started now that the lunar nodes are in the signs of Leo and Aquarius for the next 18 months. This lunation has the Sun in Leo sitting next to Jupiter in Leo, opposing the Moon in Aquarius sitting next to Pluto in Aquarius. A powerful energy that is bringing into focus old identities or roles you have played which no longer serve your soul’s growth and evolution. (Take a listen to the voice note above for more)

I also drew some oracle cards from my animal and plant spirit decks to help ground the guidance for this week, and damn does it validate everything that is playing out. Don’t you just marvel at that when it happens? I do! Spirit is always on point…

Zebra: Eccentric, Creative, and Visionary. What a fitting card for all this Aquarius energy we have going on. Its guidance is to go out and make art. Have an epic adventure. And be enthusiastic about life. Stop being so jaded, pouty, and vain. Embrace a more worldly view.

Ginkgo: It is the dawn of a new mind, new ideas, visionary thinking, and resilience. You are about to experience a revolutionary change in your consciousness. It asks you to bring the light of dawn to ongoing cycles of darkness within yourself. Stay open and don’t allow negativity to cloud your life.

EVERYTHING is saying the same thing! Will you stay in the old comfortable story, or will you embrace the vision that is right in front of you?

Let’s dive into the daily energy and how to make the most of it…

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Monday, July 27th

Sun trine Neptune

Sun sextile Uranus

There is an opportunity to see beyond the veil and open your mind and heart to something that brings joy and expansion. It might not be what you expect.

This could also bring a sudden idea or breakthrough in a project or situation.

Work with it:

• Allow yourself to feel into your intuition and into your heart

• Be open to what is new and different

• Follow the ideas that light you up

Tuesday, July 28th

Moon in Capricorn - void all day until it enters Aquarius at 7:46pm MT

We are being asked to tie up loose ends and close out the old. Get disciplined. Be productive while also taking moments of rest.

Work with it:

• Do not launch something new

• Finish up what you have already started

• Rest without guilt

Wednesday, July 29th

Full Moon in Aquarius

Sun conjunct Jupiter

Venus square Mars

A BIG DAY! Take the chance and hop on that new ride. Go on an adventure that feels unknown but also calls to your soul.

You might feel a bit of emotional resistance to change, but that is your ego or old identity struggling to let go of what is familiar, even if it has hurt you or led you astray in the past.

Work with it:

• Embrace the new vision

• Allow yourself to be fully seen

• Connect with others

• Make a full moon wish

Thursday, July 30th

Moon in Aquarius goes void at 3:27pm until it enters Pisces tomorrow morning

A day to embody what came up yesterday. To set this new vision in motion. And then take a bit of self-care and rest time this evening. Allow it to settle into your system.

Work with it:

• Spend time outside

• Ground your full moon wish

• Give yourself space to integrate

Friday, July 31st

Moon in Pisces

Moon conjunct Hekate and square Uranus

This is a day to let your whimsy shine! Get in touch with the magic of life. Embrace your inner goddess and cast a spell on your life to bring in all that aligns with your soul. Get witchy.

Pay attention to the signs. Hekate likes to send crows and spiders.

Work with it:

• Meditate on Hekate (I love this one)

• Keep that crystal in your pocket

• Play in the dirt or in your garden or go for a nature walk

Saturday, August 1st

Moon in Pisces

This is a very intuitive day, so listen to yours!

Work with it:

• Get creative

• Journal

Sunday, August 2nd

Moon void from 6:33am to 2:37pm when the Moon moves into Aries

The day starts off slow and asks you to ease into the day. Do something that feels good and feeds your soul. By the end of the day, you will feel more inspired and energized.

Work with it:

• Great day for organizing and decluttering your life

• End your week with intention

I hope this week brings you the inspiration and courage to let go of the old and step into this new cycle with trust and excitement.

You can book an astrology reading with me here: https://ashleytracey.com/readings

love & stardust,

Ashley

That is why no two birth charts are the same. Your chart is far more than a description of your personality or your strengths and challenges. It is a living map of your soul’s evolution. It tells the story of where you’ve been, the gifts you’ve cultivated, the experiences that have shaped you, and the direction your soul is continually growing toward. It reveals not only who you are, but who you are becoming.

This is why the Lunar Nodes have always fascinated me. They are often called the destiny line because they reveal both the road we’ve already traveled and the path unfolding before us. Astrologer Dane Rudhyar captured this so beautifully when he wrote, “If we should lie along the nodal axis, we would look into the future facing North and accept the past facing South.” I have always loved that because it reminds us that we are never asked to abandon our past in order to move toward our future. Instead, we are asked to honor it and work with it.

The South Node isn’t something we are meant to escape. It represents the wisdom your soul has carried across lifetimes- the gifts you’ve already cultivated, the patterns that have become familiar, and the karmic experiences that have shaped who you are today. Long before this incarnation, your soul was gathering knowledge through countless experiences, learning lessons, developing strengths, and discovering both the light and shadow of those gifts. You arrived in this lifetime carrying that invisible yet unshakable inheritance.

That doesn’t mean you are destined to repeat the past. It means you have a foundation to build upon. Your South Node holds the memories of where your soul has been so your North Node can point toward where it is longing to grow. Even within this lifetime, every success you’ve celebrated, every heartbreak you’ve survived, every risk you’ve taken, and every lesson you’ve learned has been woven into that foundation. Nothing has been wasted, and everything is on purpose.

You cannot have a North Node future without a South Node past. Soul evolution isn’t about rejecting who you’ve been- whether in this life or those that came before. It’s about honoring the wisdom you’ve already earned while having the courage to grow beyond what has become familiar. The past becomes fertile ground for what is ready to emerge next, allowing your soul to continue its journey with greater awareness, authenticity, and purpose.

*If you want to dive into your personal soul journey, take my Path to Purpose online course.

One of the biggest misconceptions I see in astrology is the belief that our birth chart is only about us. While your chart is deeply personal, your soul did not incarnate into a vacuum. You chose to be born into a particular family, generation, culture, and moment in human history for a reason. As your soul evolves, it naturally participates in the evolution of the collective. Our personal healing and humanity’s healing have always been intertwined.

This is what makes the transiting Lunar Nodes so extraordinary. Your natal Lunar Nodes describe your lifelong soul curriculum- the unique direction your spirit is continually moving toward throughout this lifetime. The transiting Lunar Nodes, however, describe the collective classroom we are all sitting in together. I often think of it like a university. Your natal chart is your major, the path your soul came here to study, while the transiting Nodes represent the semester you’re currently taking. Every eighteen months, the semester changes. The lessons shift. New opportunities arrive. Different conversations emerge. Yet somehow each new cycle supports the larger journey your soul has been walking all along.

That is why the same nodal transit can touch every person differently while still carrying a shared theme. We are all participating in the same collective story, but each of us is living a different chapter within it.

As the Lunar Nodes move from Pisces and Virgo into Leo and Aquarius, the collective curriculum changes. Over the next eighteen months, we are all being asked to explore one profound question: How do I remain deeply true to myself while contributing something meaningful to something greater than myself? This question belongs to every one of us, but the answer will never be the same.

For one person, this may look like starting a community for like minds to gather or stepping into leadership. For another, it may be leaving a career that no longer reflects their values. Someone else may find themselves healing family patterns, raising children differently, creating art that inspires change, or finally trusting their own voice after years of silence. The collective lesson is shared, but the expression of that lesson is beautifully unique because each soul has its own medicine to offer.

This is the deeper invitation of the North Node in Aquarius. Aquarius is often described as the sign of innovation, technology, and social progress, but I believe its greatest gift is authenticity in service of something larger than ourselves. Aquarius doesn’t ask us to be different simply for the sake of standing apart. It asks us to become so deeply rooted in our own truth that our lives naturally become a contribution to the world around us.

Every person carries a perspective, a gift, and a frequency that no one else can replicate. The world doesn’t evolve because we all become the same. It evolves because each of us has the courage to become more fully ourselves. Over the next eighteen months, you may feel drawn toward new friendships, communities, collaborations, and causes that reflect the person you’re becoming. Pay attention to those nudges. Often your soul recognizes where it belongs long before your mind can explain why.

Here is a nudge for all my Denver area friends… Join me at some upcoming in-person events:

Thursday, August 20th THE VINTAGE EDIT | A Night of Thrift, Vintage & Cocktails

Thursday, August 27th WELCOME TO THE TEMPLE OF PISCES / An Evening with the Eclipse

Equally important is understanding what the South Node in Leo is asking us to remember. Notice I didn’t say what it is asking us to leave behind, because that isn’t how the Lunar Nodes work. If the South Node represents wisdom already earned, the South Node in Leo has taught us how to shine, how to create, how to love wholeheartedly, and how to courageously express ourselves. Those gifts aren’t disappearing. What begins to fall away are the identities we’ve attached to them-the need for recognition, the pressure to constantly prove ourselves, the belief that our worth depends upon being seen, applauded, or admired.

This cycle gently asks us a question that may feel surprisingly vulnerable: Who are you when no one is watching?

Because that answer reveals something far deeper than any performance ever could. It reveals the essence of who you are beneath the roles you’ve played and the expectations you’ve carried.

To me, this is where the personal and the collective weave together so beautifully. Every time you choose authenticity over approval, you contribute to the evolution of humanity. Every time you heal a generational pattern, you change the story for those who come after you. Every time you create from love instead of fear, you offer something the world desperately needs. Every time you become more fully yourself, you quietly give someone else permission to do the same. MIC DROP!

That is the heart of Aquarius. Not losing yourself within the collective, but recognizing that your individuality is precisely what strengthens it.

This is also why I find the timing of this nodal shift so fascinating. Pluto is already transforming Aquarius, asking us to rethink our relationship with technology, artificial intelligence, community, and the systems that shape our lives. As the world changes around us at an extraordinary pace, the Lunar Nodes invite us to ask a deeply personal question: What part of me is non-negotiable? What values remain true regardless of how quickly the world evolves? What gifts am I here to protect? What medicine did my soul come here to offer?

These are not separate questions. They are the bridge between Leo and Aquarius, between the individual and the collective, between your heart and humanity itself.

I don’t believe your purpose is something you suddenly discover one day as though it has been hiding from you all along. I believe it is something you remember, over and over again, through the experiences life places before you. The Lunar Nodes simply help illuminate that remembering. Every eclipse, every unexpected ending, every meaningful relationship, every opportunity that asks you to become someone you’ve never been before is gently guiding you back toward the truth of who you’ve always been.

Hint: an astrology session with me can help you remember why you are here! I have openings coming up in August: https://ashleytracey.com/readings

Soul evolution has never been about becoming someone else. It has always been about becoming more deeply, more courageously, and more authentically yourself.

And perhaps the most beautiful part of all is this: as you walk your own destiny line, you unknowingly help illuminate the path for someone else. Your evolution becomes part of ours. And together, one authentic soul at a time, we help shape the future we are all here to create.

How This Nodal Shift Will Shape Your Soul’s Journey

Read for your Rising Sign

Every one of us is participating in the same collective evolution as the North Node moves into Aquarius and the South Node enters Leo. We are all being asked to balance individuality with community, authenticity with contribution, and heart with humanity.

Yet your birth chart tells you where this story unfolds most personally.

The house axis activated by the Nodes reveals the area of life where your soul is being invited to evolve over the next eighteen months. As one part of your life changes, another naturally reorganizes around it. This isn’t about choosing one house over another- it’s about allowing both to evolve together.

Here’s where your story begins to shift…

Read more

I remember this time six years ago, counting down the days until the Sun entered Leo because it meant I would officially have a Leo baby. To all my Cancer friends, I love you dearly, but the sign of Leo and I have always had a special relationship. One of my favorite people on this Earth was a Leo- my great-grandmother, whom we all called Babe. She was an absolute spitfire. Beautiful, wildly independent, endlessly entertaining, and someone who knew how to squeeze every ounce of life from this human experience.

Let me set the scene for you. We’re talking old Miami. The 1920s. Jazz spilling out onto the sidewalks. Palm trees swaying in the humid night air. Stories of gangsters, bootlegging, and larger-than-life personalities. Babe was right in the middle of it. One of my favorite stories she ever told involved getting locked in the trunk of a car after somehow getting caught up in Miami mafia business because she happened to be dating Al Capone’s cousin. I have absolutely no idea how much of that story was embellished over the years, but with Babe, it didn’t matter. She lived boldly. She laughed often. She wasn’t afraid to take up space. Looking back, she embodied so much of what I now understand to be the highest expression of Leo.

So when I found out I was pregnant, and my due date landed in late July, I secretly hoped my daughter would be born under the sign of the lion. Not because I wanted her tangled up in adventures like Babe’s (although damn, they sounded fun), but because I wanted that warm, radiant Leo heart in my life. I wanted someone who would remind me to laugh more, create more, play more, and live from the heart instead of constantly carrying the weight of responsibility.

That’s what Leo has always represented to me.

Not ego.

Not attention.

Not performance.

But pure, wholehearted, unapologetic life.

As we step into Leo season, I think that’s the invitation standing before all of us.

For the past several weeks, we’ve been swimming through Cancer’s waters, tending to our emotions, our families, our inner worlds, and the places that long for safety. But Leo asks us to step out into the sunlight after we’ve done the inner work. It asks us to remember what lights us up. What brings us joy. What makes us feel most alive. It reminds us that the heart was never meant to stay hidden.

The Sun rules Leo, and astrologically the Sun represents far more than our zodiac sign. It is our life force. Our vitality. Our individual purpose. It is the part of us that slowly unfolds over a lifetime as we become more fully ourselves. Every year when the Sun moves through Leo, we are invited to stand a little closer to our own inner light.

But this Leo season feels even more significant. It feels like standing so close to the Sun that you can actually feel its heat alchemizing you.

That is because Jupiter, the planet of expansion, abundance, wisdom, and growth, is now traveling through Leo alongside the South Node, making this a remarkably rare period of time. Jupiter magnifies whatever it touches, while the South Node asks us to release outdated identities, old patterns, and versions of ourselves that we’ve outgrown. Together, they create a fascinating paradox. One planet says, “Become more,” while the other whispers, “Only by letting go of who you no longer are.”

This isn’t a season of becoming someone new. It’s a season of becoming more deeply yourself.

And this is where I can’t help but think of Sekhmet.

Before there was simply the noble lion, there was the lioness of divine power.

Sekhmet, whose name means “She Who Is Powerful,” was one of ancient Egypt’s most revered goddesses. She was born from the fiery Eye of Ra after he looked upon humanity and saw that they had abandoned truth and divine order. From the fire of the Sun itself emerged a lioness whose purpose was to restore balance. She was fierce, unstoppable, and so powerful that even the gods struggled to contain her. Her rage became so consuming that Ra eventually had to intervene, tricking her into drinking red wine dyed to resemble blood. As her fury softened, the same fire that had once destroyed became capable of healing. In many versions of the myth, this transformation gave rise to Hathor, the goddess of love, beauty, joy, and pleasure.

I have always loved this story because it isn’t really about anger.

It’s about alchemy.

It’s about learning that our greatest power doesn’t come from suppressing our fire or letting it burn everything in its path. It comes from learning how to direct it with wisdom.

I think many of us (especially women) have spent years trying to make ourselves smaller. Softer. Easier to digest. We dim our light because we’ve been told we’re too much. Too emotional. Too ambitious. Too sensitive. Too loud. Too visible.

Sekhmet would have none of it.

She reminds us that your fire is not the problem.

Your fire is your life force.

The work is learning how to use it consciously.

That feels especially important this Leo season. With Jupiter expanding Leo’s solar energy and the South Node asking us to release the identities we’ve been performing for acceptance, this is an extraordinary opportunity to examine where we’ve confused validation with authenticity. Where have you been performing instead of simply being? Where have you been waiting for permission to shine? Where have you mistaken playing small for humility?

Leo is often misunderstood as the sign that wants attention. But at its highest expression, Leo isn’t asking to be seen- it simply shines because shining is its nature. The Sun doesn’t wake up every morning wondering if it’s worthy of rising. It rises because that is what it was created to do.

Maybe that’s your invitation, too.

Maybe this is the season you stop apologizing for your gifts.

Maybe this is the season you finally begin the creative project you’ve been talking yourself out of.

Maybe this is the season you let yourself experience more joy without needing to earn it first.

Maybe this is the season you stop shrinking to fit inside rooms you’ve already outgrown.

Jupiter has a beautiful way of reminding us that life expands wherever we have the courage to say yes. The South Node reminds us that expansion often requires release. And Sekhmet reminds us that courage isn’t the absence of fear- it’s choosing to stand in your truth anyway.

As we move through these next several weeks, I invite you to spend some time staring into the heart of the Sun. Ask yourself where your life force has gone quiet. Notice what makes your heart beat a little faster. Pay attention to the places where excitement and fear seem to arrive together. Those are often the very places your soul is asking you to grow.

Because Leo season is simply asking you to remember who you were before the world convinced you to make yourself smaller.

Be like the Sun.

Be like the lioness.

Be like Sekhmet herself.

Be powerful, radiant, and fully alive.

Leo Season Through the Rising Signs

This Leo season is unlike most. With Jupiter expanding everything it touches and the South Node helping us release outdated identities, you’re being asked to step more fully into your heart while letting go of the version of yourself that no longer fits. Think of Sekhmet standing beside you, asking: Where is your fire meant to heal, create, and protect rather than burn you out?

Aries Rising

Leo illuminates your 5th house of creativity, joy, romance, children, and self-expression. This is your permission slip to play again. Somewhere along the way, life became about responsibilities, productivity, and checking boxes. Leo reminds you that your soul also needs pleasure. Jupiter wants to expand your creative confidence, while the South Node asks you to release the need to prove yourself through constant achievement. Sekhmet reminds you that your creative gifts deserve protection. Make time for art, dancing, dating, laughter, and anything that reminds you what it feels like to be alive.

Taurus Rising

Leo activates your 4th house of home, family, roots, and emotional security. This season asks you to examine the foundation you’re building your life upon. Jupiter offers opportunities to expand your home life, deepen family connections, or create a greater sense of belonging. The South Node may reveal old family roles you’ve outgrown or emotional patterns you’ve inherited that no longer serve you. Sekhmet invites you to lovingly protect your peace. You do not have to carry every generation’s burdens. Build a home that nourishes who you are today.

Gemini Rising

Leo lights up your 3rd house of communication, learning, siblings, and everyday connections. Your voice becomes your greatest tool this season. Jupiter encourages teaching, writing, speaking, podcasting, networking, or finally sharing ideas you’ve been sitting on. The South Node asks you to release self-doubt around expressing yourself. Sekhmet reminds you that words can both wound and heal. Speak with courage, but also with heart. Your message may be exactly what someone else needs to hear.

Cancer Rising

Leo activates your 2nd house of money, self-worth, resources, and values. This season isn’t simply about earning more; it’s about believing you’re worthy of receiving more. Jupiter expands financial opportunities while the South Node helps you release scarcity, people-pleasing, or tying your worth to productivity. Sekhmet reminds you that protecting your energy is also protecting your abundance. Stop negotiating your value. Build your life around what truly matters.

Leo Rising

This is your season. The Sun returns to your 1st house of identity, vitality, and personal reinvention, making this your personal new year. Jupiter magnifies your confidence, visibility, leadership, and opportunities for growth. The South Node asks you to release old identities you’ve outgrown—even the successful ones. Sekhmet asks one simple question: Who are you when you stop performing for everyone else? This is a powerful time to redefine yourself from the inside out. Become more fully who you already are.

Virgo Rising

Leo moves through your 12th house of endings, intuition, dreams, spirituality, and healing. While the world may appear to be speeding up, your soul is asking you to slow down. Jupiter expands your connection to the unseen, making this a beautiful season for meditation, therapy, dreamwork, creative solitude, or spiritual practice. The South Node helps you release subconscious fears, limiting beliefs, and emotional baggage you’ve carried for years. Sekhmet teaches that true strength isn’t always visible. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is surrender.

Libra Rising

Leo energizes your 11th house of friendships, community, hopes, and future vision. Jupiter is expanding your network, bringing new people into your life who align with the future you’re creating. Say yes to invitations, collaborations, and community gatherings. The South Node asks you to release friendships or group identities that no longer reflect who you’re becoming. Sekhmet reminds you to protect your energy by choosing relationships that celebrate your light instead of asking you to dim it.

Scorpio Rising

Leo shines brightly in your 10th house of career, purpose, leadership, and public visibility. Jupiter wants your work to grow. This is a beautiful time to launch something, ask for the promotion, teach, lead, or become more visible in your profession. The South Node asks you to let go of outdated definitions of success that leave you exhausted. Sekhmet reminds you that leadership is not about control—it is about integrity. Let your work reflect your heart rather than your ego.

Sagittarius Rising

Leo activates your 9th house of expansion, travel, higher learning, publishing, and spiritual wisdom. Jupiter, your ruling planet, feels especially at home here, encouraging you to dream bigger than you’ve allowed yourself to before. Study something new. Take the trip. Write the book. Teach the class. The South Node helps you release rigid beliefs that keep your world small. Sekhmet reminds you that truth is worth defending, but wisdom also knows when to remain curious.

Capricorn Rising

Leo illuminates your 8th house of transformation, intimacy, shared resources, grief, and rebirth. This is profound inner work. Jupiter expands opportunities for healing emotional wounds, deepening intimacy, or transforming financial partnerships. The South Node invites you to release control, fear, and old survival strategies. Sekhmet asks you to trust that vulnerability is not weakness. Sometimes your greatest power emerges only after you’ve allowed yourself to be transformed.

Aquarius Rising

Leo activates your 7th house of partnerships, marriage, collaboration, and meaningful relationships. Jupiter brings expansion through other people. New partnerships, clients, collaborations, or romantic relationships may enter your life. Existing relationships can deepen if both people are willing to grow together. The South Node asks you to release relationship patterns rooted in self-sacrifice, independence at all costs, or needing to be everything for everyone. Sekhmet reminds you that healthy love requires authentic truth.

Pisces Rising

Leo energizes your 6th house of health, routines, work, and daily rituals. Jupiter invites you to build habits that support the life you’re trying to create instead of constantly reacting to life as it happens. The South Node asks you to release perfectionism, burnout, and the belief that your value comes from how much you accomplish. Sekhmet teaches that your body is sacred. Protect your energy. Nourish your nervous system. The life you dream of begins with the rituals you practice every day.

No matter your rising sign, this season asks the same question:

Where have you been living from obligation instead of from your heart?

The Sun never asks permission to shine. Maybe this is the season you stop asking, too.

love & stardust,

Ashley

A conversation that lingers in your mind. A door that quietly closes. An opportunity that appears out of nowhere. A growing feeling that you’ve outgrown the version of yourself you’ve been carrying around.

That’s what this week feels like.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been reflecting on the past, tending to our emotional roots, and making the adjustments our souls have been quietly asking for. But now the energy begins to turn outward again. There is movement. There is possibility. There is momentum building beneath the surface.

This week feels like sitting on the shoreline, watching the tide slowly roll in. You can sense the wave building long before it reaches you. That's the energy now. Change is gathering momentum. The only question is whether you're willing to move with it.

Here is what’s happening this week…

The Sun enters Leo, reminding us to step back into our creativity, confidence, and joy. Mercury finally stations direct after asking us to revisit old conversations and emotional patterns. Saturn begins its retrograde journey in Aries, inviting us to redefine what true courage and leadership look like. Jupiter continues to weave beautiful aspects throughout the week, expanding our vision while reminding us that growth often begins with one brave decision.

And then, at the end of the week, something even bigger begins. The lunar nodes shift into Leo and Aquarius, opening an entirely new karmic chapter that will shape the collective and each of us for the next year and a half.

If the last cycle taught us about service, healing, discernment, and surrender, this next one asks something very different as a karmic curriculum comes into focus…to become more fully ourselves.

Leo reminds us that we are here to create, to love boldly, to take up space, and to let our hearts lead. Aquarius reminds us that our individuality matters because it contributes something meaningful to the collective. Together, they ask us to stop choosing between authenticity and belonging.

The greatest contribution you can make to the world is becoming the most honest version of yourself.

The question this week isn’t simply, “What’s changing?”

The question is:

As the cosmic energy changes... are you willing to change with it?

Monday, July 20

Moon in Libra

Jupiter trine Neptune

Jupiter opposite Pluto

Jupiter wants to dream bigger, while Neptune reminds you to trust your intuition. At the same time, Pluto asks whether you’re ready to release the old stories that have kept you playing small.

Relationships may offer unexpected insight today, acting as mirrors that reflect where you’ve grown and where you’re still holding back.

In the body:
You may feel inspired yet emotionally stretched between possibility and fear.

Work with it:
Dream boldly, but stay grounded.

Notice what your heart wants... not just what your ego thinks is possible.

Tuesday, July 21

Moon enters Scorpio

Jupiter sextile Uranus

Scorpio asks you to go beneath the surface, while Jupiter and Uranus invite you to embrace unexpected opportunities.

The thing you didn’t plan for may end up becoming exactly what you needed.

In the body:
Heightened intuition, excitement, emotional intensity.

Work with it:
Say yes to new ideas.

Stay curious.

Trust yourself enough to follow the cosmic nudge.

Wednesday, July 22

Sun enters Leo

Welcome to Leo season!

The Sun has officially entered its home of creativity, confidence, pleasure, romance, and self-expression.

Leo reminds us that life isn’t only about healing.

It’s also about living.

Laugh more.

Create more.

Play more.

Love more.

In the body:
A desire for movement, creativity, and self-expression.

Work with it:
Do something that makes you feel wildly alive.

Let your heart lead the way.

Thursday, July 23

Sun square Chiron

Mercury stations direct

Moon enters Sagittarius

Today feels like turning a page. Mercury finally stations direct, helping conversations move forward after weeks of reflection.

Meanwhile, the Sun’s square to Chiron may reveal where old wounds still influence the way you show up in the world.

The Sagittarius Moon reminds you not to stay stuck there.

Healing doesn’t erase the past. It expands your perspective.

In the body:
Mental clarity returning alongside emotional tenderness.

Work with it:
Have the conversation.

Speak the truth.

Trust that your voice has grown wiser.

Friday, July 24

Mercury sextile Venus

Neptune sextile Pluto

There is beauty in honest communication today.

Words have the power to heal.

Relationships soften.

Creative projects flow.

Conversations that once felt difficult may suddenly feel natural.

Neptune and Pluto quietly remind us that lasting transformation is possible when we are not afraid to get real and raw.

In the body:
More ease in the heart and nervous system.

Work with it:
Write.

Create.

Tell someone how much they mean to you.

Saturday, July 25

Void Moon in Sagittarius

A pause before the next chapter.

Void Moons aren’t ideal for starting something brand new. Instead, let yourself complete what you’ve already begun.

Reflect on how much has changed over the past few weeks.

Honor your progress.

Not everything needs to happen today.

In the body:
A desire to wander, reflect, or simply do less.

Work with it:
Finish the adventure you’ve already started.

Trust that rest is part of the journey too.

Sunday, July 26

Moon enters Capricorn

Saturn stations retrograde

Lunar Nodes enter Leo & Aquarius

This is the moment when the energy changes.

The lunar nodes begin an entirely new karmic cycle, shifting our collective focus toward courage, authenticity, creativity, heart-led leadership, and community.

Saturn stations retrograde, asking us to reconsider how we’re building the life we’re committed to.

This isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about becoming someone more authentic.

In the body:
A sense of gravity, excitement, possibility, and quiet knowing.

Work with it:
Reflect on who you’re becoming.

• What parts of yourself are ready to lead?

• What parts are ready to be released?

My Reflection

As an Aquarius Rising, this nodal shift is about to activate my 1st and 7th houses. Translation… get ready for me to get even weirder ;)

Honestly, I think that’s the point for all of us!

For so much of our lives, we’re taught to smooth out our edges, to fit in, to become more palatable, more practical, more predictable. But the Leo-Aquarius axis doesn’t ask us to become more acceptable. It asks us to become more authentic.

Leo reminds us to let our hearts lead. Aquarius reminds us that our uniqueness isn’t something to hide- it’s something to contribute.

The more I embody my rising sign, the less interested I am in trying to fit into spaces that require me to shrink. I’d much rather be the person talking about astrology, past lives, plants, and levels of consciousness all in the same conversation while making someone laugh over coffee. That’s who I am. And honestly... I have a feeling I’m only getting started.

This new karmic cycle is permission for all of us to stop apologizing for the parts of ourselves that make us different.

So whether this nodal shift is asking you to take up more space, follow a creative dream, build a new community, or simply let people see the real you, trust it.

The world doesn’t need another version of someone else. It needs the version of you that has been waiting for permission to come out and play.

And if you’re wondering...

Yes.

I’m absolutely taking this as cosmic permission to get weirder.

I hope you do, too :)

love & stardust,

Ashley

Come join me and my Aquarius Sun friend for a couple of upcoming in-person events in the Denver area.

Save the dates and let’s get weird together!!!

Thursday, August 20th THE VINTAGE EDIT | A Night of Thrift, Vintage & Cocktails

Thursday, August 27th WELCOME TO THE TEMPLE OF PISCES / An Evening with the Eclipse

This post dives into the rest of the moon signs of Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces. Read part one if you missed yours here:

*I’m sharing this content with you for free because I truly believe this work should be accessible. If my writing has supported, inspired, or resonated with you, I’d be so grateful if you’d consider becoming a paid subscriber. Your support allows me to continue creating these offerings and helps sustain this work. As a single mom, it means more than you know. Thank you xo

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Libra Moon

There is something undeniably graceful about a Libra Moon.

You move through the world with an awareness that few people possess. You notice the subtle shifts in a conversation, the expression that briefly crosses someone’s face, the tension that lingers beneath words left unsaid. You instinctively understand that every interaction leaves an imprint, and because of that, you genuinely care about how people feel in your presence.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Libra Moon.

Your heart naturally seeks connection. You understand that we do not become ourselves in isolation. We are shaped through relationship, through conversation, through love, through conflict, and through the countless reflections we receive from one another along the way. While others may rush to judgment or choose sides, your first instinct is often curiosity. You want to understand every perspective before forming your own. You recognize the humanity in people, even when they are difficult to understand. There is a quiet wisdom in that.

The world often speaks about Libra as the sign of balance, beauty, and relationships, but beneath those familiar descriptions lives something much deeper.

Libra understands that harmony is sacred.

Not because life should always be peaceful, but because every soul longs to feel connected. And you carry that longing within you.

Whether through your friendships, your family, your romantic relationships, or even your work, there is a part of you that naturally wants people to feel seen, respected, and valued. You often become the bridge between opposing viewpoints, the calm presence in difficult conversations, or the person who reminds everyone that compassion is still possible.

It is a beautiful gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Libra Moons, maintaining harmony became more than a preference.

It became a way of staying safe.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that conflict threatened connection. Perhaps you grew up in a home where arguments felt unpredictable or emotionally overwhelming. Maybe you watched people withdraw their love after disagreements. Or perhaps you became the child who instinctively smoothed things over, sensing that if everyone else was okay, then maybe you would be okay too.

Children don’t consciously decide to become peacemakers.

They simply learn what helps them maintain closeness with the people they depend on.

And so your heart quietly formed a strategy.

“If I keep the peace... I’ll keep the love.”

At first, this strategy serves you well.

It makes you thoughtful.

Diplomatic.

Kind.

Compassionate.

You become someone people trust because they know you’ll listen without immediately judging them. You naturally look for common ground instead of creating more division. Your presence has a way of helping people feel heard.

But eventually, what once protected you can begin asking something of you.

Because when your nervous system becomes focused on everyone else’s comfort, it’s surprisingly easy to lose touch with your own.

Without realizing it, you begin checking in with everyone else before checking in with yourself.

You ask what they want.

How they feel.

What would make them happy.

Meanwhile, your own desires quietly move to the back of the line.

This is one of the hidden stories many Libra Moons carry.

Not that they don’t know who they are. But that they become so skilled at adapting to the people they love that their own voice slowly becomes harder to hear.

You may find yourself saying yes when your heart wants to say no.

You may avoid difficult conversations because you’re afraid honesty might create distance.

You may become so understanding of other people’s behavior that you unintentionally excuse the ways they hurt you.

Not because you lack boundaries.

Because your heart genuinely wants relationships to work.

But harmony built upon self-abandonment isn’t harmony at all.

It’s silence. And silence has a way of becoming heavy.

Relationships become the greatest teachers for the Libra Moon because they continually ask one profound question.

Can you remain connected to yourself while remaining connected to someone else?

That isn’t always easy. Especially when your instinct is to meet everyone where they are.

But healthy relationships don’t ask you to disappear in order to preserve the connection.

They ask you to bring your whole self.

Your opinions.

Your needs.

Your disappointments.

Your truth.

The beautiful irony is that real intimacy often begins where people-pleasing ends.

Because love isn’t strengthened by pretending everything is okay. It’s strengthened by creating enough safety for honesty to exist.

Your soul didn’t choose a Libra Moon because it wanted you to become more agreeable.

It chose this Moon to teach you the difference between peacekeeping and peacemaking.

Peacekeeping often asks you to sacrifice yourself.

Peacemaking asks everyone to show up honestly.

One avoids discomfort.

The other creates healing.

The older I become (I am a Libra Sun, so I get it), the more I believe the highest expression of the Libra Moon has very little to do with balance.

Balance is never static.

It’s alive.

It shifts.

It asks us to continually return to ourselves.

The true gift of this Moon is learning that you can deeply love another person without abandoning your own heart.

That disagreement does not automatically mean disconnection.

That boundaries are not acts of rejection.

They are acts of self-respect.

And perhaps most importantly, that the relationship you spend your life trying to create with others can never become healthier than the relationship you have with yourself.

When you begin trusting your own voice, something beautiful happens.

Your kindness becomes even more genuine because it is no longer rooted in fear. Your compassion deepens because it now includes you. Your relationships become more authentic because the version of you showing up is no longer the one trying to keep everyone comfortable.

It’s the one simply telling the truth. And that truth is where real connection has been waiting all along.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Libra Moon, begin paying attention to how often you ask other people what they want before asking yourself the same question.

Practice pausing before automatically agreeing.

Notice where your body contracts when you’re about to say yes to something your heart doesn’t actually want.

Allow yourself to have preferences, even if they disappoint someone else.

Spend time alone, not to isolate yourself, but to become familiar with your own voice when no one else’s opinions are present. Journal before asking for advice. Make small decisions without seeking reassurance. Practice expressing your truth with kindness rather than waiting for resentment to speak for you.

Remember that conflict handled with honesty can deepen a relationship.

Avoidance rarely does.

The more connected you become to yourself, the more authentic your relationships will become.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that keeping the peace was more important than speaking my truth?

What part of myself have I been setting aside in order to maintain connection?

How would my relationships change if I trusted that honesty creates deeper intimacy than perfection ever could?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t someone who loves less.

It’s someone who finally realizes that loving others should never require leaving themselves behind.

Scorpio Moon

There is something undeniably magnetic about a Scorpio Moon.

You were born with the ability to feel beneath the surface of life. While others may be content with appearances, your soul has always been searching for what is real. You can sense what isn’t being said in a conversation. You notice the emotion hidden behind a smile, the grief someone is trying to outrun, the longing beneath their anger. It isn’t something you consciously try to do. It’s simply how you’re wired.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Scorpio Moon.

Your emotional world is incredibly deep. You don’t love halfway. You don’t grieve halfway. You don’t commit halfway. Whatever your heart chooses to invest in, it does so completely. There is an intensity to this placement that is often misunderstood, but I don’t believe intensity is something to fear.

Intensity is simply the willingness to feel life fully.

Scorpio understands that transformation requires honesty. It knows that healing cannot happen by pretending everything is okay. While others may avoid the uncomfortable conversations, you instinctively move toward them because some part of you understands that what is hidden holds the key to what is waiting to be healed.

You have an extraordinary capacity to hold space for other people’s pain.

People often find themselves telling you things they’ve never shared with anyone before. They may not even understand why. Something about your presence gives them permission to remove the masks they’ve spent years wearing.

You remind people that they don’t have to hide the darkest parts of themselves in order to be loved.

That is a rare gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Scorpio Moons, trust became complicated long before they understood the word.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that emotional safety could disappear without warning. Perhaps someone betrayed your trust. Perhaps love felt inconsistent. Maybe you experienced loss at an early age, or grew up in an environment where emotions carried tremendous power. Whatever your story, your body quietly learned that vulnerability came with consequences.

Children don’t stop loving when they’re hurt. They start protecting.

And so your heart formed a strategy.

“Never let anyone hurt me like that again.”

At first, this strategy feels empowering.

You become incredibly observant.

Perceptive.

Emotionally intelligent.

You learn to read people before they reveal themselves. You notice inconsistencies. You sense hidden motives. You develop remarkable intuition because your nervous system is constantly scanning for what might threaten your emotional safety.

This is why so many Scorpio Moons seem psychic.

In many ways, they are. Your intuition is extraordinary.

But sometimes what we call intuition is also hypervigilance.

When your nervous system has spent years searching for danger, it becomes incredibly good at finding it.

This is where the shadow of the Scorpio Moon quietly emerges.

Not because you’re distrustful by nature. But because your heart remembers what betrayal feels like.

Without realizing it, you may begin testing people before allowing yourself to trust them.

You may hold back pieces of yourself, waiting to see whether someone is truly safe.

You may assume there are hidden motives because life once taught you there usually were.

You may replay conversations long after they’ve ended, searching for clues you missed.

Not because you’re trying to create problems. Because your heart desperately wants certainty.

The irony is that certainty is the one thing relationships can never fully provide.

Relationships become one of the greatest initiations for the Scorpio Moon because they continually ask you to surrender control.

Not control over another person.

Control over your need to predict the future.

To guarantee you won’t be hurt.

To know exactly where everything is going before you allow yourself to fully open your heart.

Love doesn’t work that way.

It has never worked that way.

Love has always required vulnerability.

This can feel terrifying for a Scorpio Moon because vulnerability asks you to loosen your grip on the very thing your nervous system believes keeps you safe. And yet, that is precisely where your healing lives.

Your soul didn’t choose a Scorpio Moon because it wanted to avoid heartbreak.

It chose this Moon because it knew you possessed an extraordinary capacity to transform through it.

Scorpio is the sign of death and rebirth, but rarely in the literal sense.

It is the death of old identities.

Old fears.

Old protections.

Old stories about who you have to become in order to survive.

Every major loss in your life has asked you to release another layer of yourself.

Not because life was trying to punish you.

Because your soul came here to remember that who you are is far greater than anything you could ever lose.

The older I become, the more I believe the highest expression of the Scorpio Moon isn’t emotional intensity.

It’s emotional trust.

The willingness to stay open after disappointment.

The willingness to love after loss.

The willingness to believe that your heart can survive being broken because it has done so before.

Your greatest strength has never been your ability to protect yourself. It has always been your remarkable ability to regenerate.

To rise.

To begin again.

Like the phoenix that symbolizes this sign, you have an incredible capacity to rebuild yourself after life falls apart.

Perhaps that’s why Scorpio Moons often become some of the wisest people we know.

Not because life has been easy.

Because they have walked through the darkness often enough to know that it is never the end of the story.

When you stop seeing vulnerability as a threat, your gifts deepen even further.

Your intuition becomes clearer because it is no longer filtered through fear.

Your relationships become more intimate because they are built on honesty rather than self-protection.

Your emotional depth becomes a place where others can heal because you have finally allowed yourself to heal there, too.

And perhaps that is the true medicine of the Scorpio Moon. To discover that the heart was never meant to become impenetrable.

It was meant to become resilient.

There is a profound difference.

One avoids pain.

The other learns that love is always worth the risk.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Scorpio Moon, begin noticing where your instinct is to protect yourself before anything has actually happened.

Ask yourself, Is this my intuition speaking... or is this an old wound trying to keep me safe?

The more you learn to distinguish between those two voices, the more clearly you’ll hear your own inner wisdom.

Practice sharing your heart in small ways instead of waiting until you feel completely certain. Trust is built one honest conversation at a time. Let yourself receive love without needing to know exactly where it’s going. Spend time with your emotions instead of trying to control them. Journal about the moments that trigger your fear of betrayal, abandonment, or loss, and gently ask what younger part of you still believes those experiences define your future.

Above all, remember this:

You have already survived the things you once believed would destroy you.

Your heart knows how to rebuild. Trust that.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that vulnerability wasn’t safe?

How much of my emotional life is guided by intuition, and how much is guided by self-protection?

What would change if I trusted my heart’s ability to heal more than I feared its ability to break?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t a heart that no longer feels deeply.

It’s a heart that finally realizes its greatest power was never control.

It was always its capacity to transform.

Sagittarius Moon

Okay, calling myself out on this one… Sag moon here, and I am always going to be real with you! IFYKYK

There is something wonderfully expansive about a Sagittarius Moon.

Your heart was never meant to stay in one place for too long. It longs to explore, to question, to wander, and to discover what exists just beyond the horizon. While others seek certainty, your soul seeks meaning. You instinctively understand that life isn’t simply a collection of events to endure. It is a journey to experience, a story to participate in, and a classroom filled with lessons waiting to be uncovered.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Sagittarius Moon.

You possess an extraordinary ability to find hope, even in life’s most difficult seasons. While others become consumed by what has been lost, some part of you quietly begins to ask, "What is this trying to teach me?" You have a remarkable gift for helping people zoom out and see the bigger picture. You remind them that this moment isn’t the whole story. That healing is possible. That joy can return. That there is always another sunrise waiting beyond the darkest night.

Hope lives naturally within you.

Not as blind optimism but as faith.

Faith that life is always unfolding toward something greater, even when it doesn’t make sense in the moment.

This is why people often leave conversations with you feeling lighter. You have a way of expanding their perspective without dismissing their pain. You remind them that they are so much more than whatever chapter they happen to be living.

There is a freedom in the way your heart moves through the world.

You aren’t here to simply repeat what you’ve been taught.

You’re here to discover your own truth.

To question.

To explore.

To gather wisdom through lived experience.

The Sagittarius Moon is the eternal student, but also the eternal teacher, because the wisdom you collect is rarely meant to stay with you alone.

You naturally want to share it.

To inspire.

To encourage.

To remind others that life is far bigger than fear.

It is a beautiful gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Sagittarius Moons, freedom became more than something they valued.

It became something they needed in order to feel emotionally safe.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that emotional intensity felt overwhelming. Perhaps conflict made you feel trapped. Maybe your family carried heavy emotions that no one knew how to navigate. Perhaps expectations felt suffocating, leaving you with the quiet belief that your freedom could disappear at any moment.

Whatever your story, your heart formed a strategy.

“Keep moving.”

Children don’t always run with their feet.

Sometimes they run with their minds.

Sometimes they run toward the next dream.

The next relationship.

The next adventure.

The next philosophy.

The next version of themselves.

Movement becomes a way of creating distance from discomfort.

At first, this strategy feels like a gift.

It makes you adaptable.

Optimistic.

Resilient.

Open-minded.

You become someone who can weather tremendous storms because your eyes remain fixed on the horizon instead of the waves beneath your feet. But eventually, what once protected you begins asking something more of you.

Because there are moments in life when the horizon cannot save you.

Grief asks you to stop.

Heartbreak asks you to stop.

Loss asks you to stop.

There are seasons when your soul isn’t asking you to find the lesson yet. It’s asking you to feel the experience.

This is where the hidden protection of the Sagittarius Moon often reveals itself.

Not because you avoid emotions but because you instinctively search for meaning before you’ve allowed yourself to fully experience them.

You may find yourself saying things like, Everything happens for a reason, before you’ve given yourself permission to cry.

You may quickly turn your pain into a life lesson because wisdom feels more familiar than vulnerability.

You may laugh while your heart is quietly breaking.

You may stay busy planning your next adventure while your soul is still grieving the last chapter.

People often mistake this for emotional detachment.

I don’t believe that’s what it is. I think it’s hope trying to protect the heart.

Your spirit has always believed that if you can understand the purpose of your suffering, perhaps it won’t hurt as much.

Sometimes that’s true.

But healing doesn’t arrive because we understand our pain. Healing arrives because we allow ourselves to move through it.

Relationships become one of the greatest teachers for the Sagittarius Moon because they ask you to stay present when your instinct is to keep moving.

To remain during the uncomfortable conversations instead of escaping into possibility.

To discover that commitment doesn’t have to mean confinement. (especially with the right partner)

That vulnerability doesn’t limit your freedom. It deepens it.

You may find yourself attracting partners who ground you, who invite you to slow down, or who lovingly remind you that not every emotion needs to be solved before it can simply be shared.

These relationships aren’t here to take away your freedom.

They’re here to show you another expression of it.

The freedom to be fully seen.

The freedom to be imperfect.

The freedom to let someone witness your sadness instead of immediately transforming it into wisdom.

Your soul didn’t choose a Sagittarius Moon because it wanted you to spend your life searching for answers. It chose this Moon because it wanted you to become the embodiment of wisdom.

And wisdom is not information. It is experience integrated.

It is allowing life to shape you without hardening you.

The older I become (and embody my moon), the more I believe the highest expression of the Sagittarius Moon isn’t optimism.

It’s trust.

Trust that life remains meaningful even when you cannot yet see the lesson.

Trust that your heart can survive uncertainty.

Trust that you don’t have to rush toward the next chapter before fully honoring the one that’s ending.

When that trust begins to grow, something extraordinary happens.

Your hope becomes deeper.

Quieter.

More grounded.

It no longer asks suffering to disappear. It simply reminds you that suffering isn’t the end of the story.

Your joy becomes more authentic because it has learned to sit beside sorrow.

Your wisdom becomes more compassionate because it was earned, not borrowed.

And your freedom becomes something no circumstances can ever take away because it no longer depends on constant movement.

It lives within you.

Perhaps that is the true medicine of the Sagittarius Moon.

To discover that the greatest adventure isn’t always somewhere out there.

Sometimes it’s the journey inward.

The willingness to sit beside your own heart long enough to discover that everything you’ve been searching for across distant horizons has quietly been waiting inside you all along.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Sagittarius Moon, begin noticing how quickly your mind tries to make meaning out of every emotional experience.

The next time you’re hurting, resist the urge to immediately ask, What is this teaching me?

Instead, ask: What does my heart need from me right now?

Allow yourself to cry before you search for the lesson.

Rest before you plan the next adventure.

Stay present with difficult conversations instead of escaping into possibilities for the future.

Spend time in nature without needing to arrive anywhere. Walk without a destination. Sit beneath a wide-open sky. Let your breath remind you that freedom isn’t always found in movement. Sometimes it’s found in presence.

The wisdom you’re seeking doesn’t only live on the horizon. It also lives in the stillness you’ve spent a lifetime trying to outrun.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that staying with difficult emotions felt unsafe?

When do I search for meaning instead of allowing myself to feel?

What would change if I trusted that I don’t have to understand every experience before my heart is allowed to heal?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t someone who stops dreaming.

It’s someone who discovers that the greatest journey was never about escaping life.

It was about becoming fully present for it.

And that is where your deepest wisdom has been waiting all along.

Capricorn Moon

There is something incredibly steady about a Capricorn Moon.

While others may be swept away by emotion, your instinct is often to become the mountain. You are the one who remains calm in a crisis, who keeps moving when life becomes difficult, who quietly carries responsibilities that others never even notice. There is a quiet strength about you that people naturally trust. Whether they realize it or not, they often look to you for stability because your presence conveys reassurance.

“We’ll figure this out.”

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Capricorn Moon.

You understand commitment. Not as an obligation, but as a sacred promise.

You know that meaningful things are built over time. Relationships, careers, families, dreams, and even healing itself require patience, consistency, and devotion. While others may lose interest when the path becomes difficult, you possess an extraordinary ability to stay the course. There is wisdom in your endurance. You remind people that success is rarely created overnight. It is cultivated through small, faithful choices made day after day.

People often describe Capricorn as ambitious, disciplined, or hardworking.

While those qualities are certainly present, I believe they are expressions of something much deeper.

Capricorn longs to build a life that lasts.

It wants to create something meaningful, something dependable, something future generations can stand upon. Whether you’re building a business, a family, a community, or simply a life of integrity, there is a part of your soul that feels deeply fulfilled when your efforts create stability for the people you love.

There is something profoundly noble about that.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Capricorn Moons, responsibility became intertwined with love.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that growing up wasn’t optional.

Perhaps you became the responsible child.

The one who helped take care of siblings.

The one who didn’t cause problems because there were already enough problems to manage.

Maybe your parents expected maturity before you were emotionally ready for it. Or perhaps life simply required you to become strong before you had the chance to simply be a child.

Children don’t usually complain when this happens.

They adapt.

They quietly become who the family needs them to be.

And so your heart formed a strategy.

“If I’m responsible... I’ll be safe.”

At first, this strategy serves you beautifully.

It makes you dependable.

Capable.

Trustworthy.

Resilient.

You become someone others can count on because you’ve spent a lifetime learning how to carry weight without letting it show.

But eventually, what once protected you begins to shape the way you see yourself.

Without realizing it, your value may become connected to what you accomplish.

To how much you produce.

To how much you contribute.

To how much you can handle without asking for help.

This is one of the hidden stories many Capricorn Moons carry.

Not that they don’t have emotions. But that somewhere along the way they learned emotions could wait.

Work came first.

Responsibility came first.

Other people’s needs came first.

Your own heart quietly learned to stand in line.

Over time, this can create an emotional loneliness that few people recognize.

The world admires your strength.

Very few people ask what it has cost you to become so strong.

You may find yourself saying, I’m fine, even when you’re exhausted.

You may struggle to receive help because carrying everything yourself has become familiar.

Rest can feel strangely uncomfortable.

Joy can feel unproductive.

You may even feel guilty when life becomes easy because some part of you still believes love must be earned through effort.

Relationships become one of the greatest teachers for the Capricorn Moon because they continually ask you to set the weight down.

Not forever.

Just long enough to remember that you are more than what you do.

You often become the dependable partner, the provider, the planner, the one who remembers the practical details. You naturally take care of responsibilities because that’s how you’ve learned to express love.

But emotional intimacy asks something different.

It asks you to let someone see the parts of yourself that don’t have all the answers.

The tired parts.

The uncertain parts.

The grieving parts.

The child inside you who became an adult way too soon.

This can feel deeply uncomfortable because vulnerability often feels less familiar than competence.

Yet this is where your healing begins.

Your soul didn’t choose a Capricorn Moon because it wanted you to carry the world.

It chose this Moon to teach you the difference between responsibility and burden.

Responsibility is life-giving.

Burden is what happens when you begin to believe that everything depends on you.

There is a profound difference.

One comes from purpose.

The other comes from fear.

The older I become, the more I believe the highest expression of the Capricorn Moon has very little to do with achievement.

It has everything to do with trust.

Trust that your worth isn’t measured by your productivity.

Trust that people can love you even when you’re struggling.

Trust that you don’t always have to be the strong one.

When that trust begins to grow, something beautiful happens.

Your ambition becomes more joyful because it is no longer fueled by the need to prove yourself.

Your leadership becomes more compassionate because you understand that everyone is carrying something unseen.

Your discipline becomes sustainable because you’ve learned to honor your own humanity along the way.

Most importantly, you begin creating a life that doesn’t simply look successful from the outside. It feels nourishing from the inside.

Perhaps that is the true medicine of the Capricorn Moon.

To discover that the mountain was never asking you to carry it.

It was simply inviting you to climb it one step at a time.

With others. Not alone!

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Capricorn Moon, begin noticing how often you measure your worth by what you’ve accomplished instead of how deeply you’ve lived.

The next time you catch yourself saying, I’ll rest when everything is finished, gently ask yourself, Will everything ever truly be finished?

Practice letting yourself experience joy without earning it first.

Allow yourself to receive help before you become overwhelmed. Let someone support you, even if they don’t do things exactly the way you would have done them. Spend time reconnecting with the playful part of yourself that existed before responsibility became your identity.

Create moments that serve no purpose other than delight. Laugh with friends. Take a walk without tracking your steps. Watch the sunset without checking your phone. Give yourself permission to simply exist without producing something.

Your soul needs those moments just as much as it needs purpose.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that being responsible made me lovable?

What part of me still believes I have to earn rest, joy, or support?

Who would I be if I believed my worth existed long before my accomplishments?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t someone who stops striving.

It’s someone who finally realizes they never had to prove they were enough.

They always were.

And perhaps that’s the greatest success of all.

Aquarius Moon

There is something beautifully unconventional about an Aquarius Moon.

You were never meant to experience life through the lens of convention. From an early age, there has likely been a part of you that observed the world from just outside of it. You notice patterns other people miss. You question assumptions that everyone else accepts as truth. You aren’t interested in following the crowd simply because it’s the crowd. Your soul longs to understand life from a broader perspective, always asking, "What if there’s another way?"

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Aquarius Moon.

You possess an extraordinary ability to step back from a situation and see it objectively. While others may become consumed by emotion, you naturally widen the lens. You remind people that there is always a bigger picture. Your perspective allows you to remain calm amid chaos, solve problems creatively, and imagine possibilities long before the rest of the world can see them.

Aquarius is often called the visionary of the zodiac, and I believe that’s because it has one foot planted firmly in the present and the other reaching toward the future.

You are here to innovate.

To challenge outdated ways of thinking.

To create community where there has been separation.

To remind people that our differences are often the very things that move humanity forward.

There is something quietly revolutionary about your heart. Whether through your ideas, your friendships, your work, or simply the way you choose to live your life, you naturally encourage people to think more freely.

You give others permission to become more themselves.

That is a remarkable gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Aquarius Moons, observation became safer than participation.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that feeling different carried consequences. Perhaps you were misunderstood. Maybe your emotions weren’t reflected back to you in ways that helped you understand them. You may have felt like the outsider in your family, the child whose way of seeing the world didn’t quite fit the environment around you. Or perhaps emotional intensity simply felt overwhelming, leading your mind to step in and create a little distance.

Children have an incredible ability to adapt.

When belonging feels uncertain, they often learn to become observers.

To watch before speaking.

To analyze before feeling.

To understand before participating.

And so your heart quietly formed a strategy.

“If I stay above my emotions... they can’t overwhelm me.”

At first, this strategy serves you remarkably well.

It makes you thoughtful.

Independent.

Open-minded.

Objective.

You become someone who can remain calm when others are overwhelmed because your mind naturally creates space around emotional experiences. This allows you to offer perspective during difficult moments and help others see possibilities they couldn’t access while in the middle of their own storm.

But eventually, what once protected you can begin creating distance.

Not just from your emotions. From yourself.

This is one of the hidden stories many Aquarius Moons carry.

Not that they don’t feel deeply; it’s quite the opposite.

They often feel so deeply that creating emotional distance becomes the only way to avoid becoming overwhelmed.

People sometimes describe Aquarius Moons as detached.

I don’t think detached is the right word. I think you’re selective.

Your heart doesn’t open quickly because somewhere inside it is asking a very important question.

“Is it safe to be fully myself here?”

Until that question feels answered, you may instinctively stay in your head.

You may intellectualize your feelings rather than inhabit them.

You may focus on helping humanity while quietly struggling to let one person truly help you.

You may feel deeply connected to communities, causes, and collective movements while simultaneously feeling strangely alone in your personal life.

This is one of the great paradoxes of the Aquarius Moon.

You understand humanity. Sometimes it’s individual intimacy that feels more mysterious.

Relationships become one of your greatest teachers because they ask you to come down from the balcony and step into the room.

Not to lose your perspective but to add your heart to it.

You often attract people who encourage emotional vulnerability, who gently remind you that being understood begins with allowing yourself to be seen. They may lovingly challenge your tendency to retreat into logic when your heart is asking for connection.

This can feel uncomfortable.

Not because you don’t want intimacy. Because intimacy asks you to surrender certainty.

To allow another person to know the parts of yourself you’ve spent years quietly observing from a distance.

Your soul didn’t choose an Aquarius Moon because it wanted you to become more objective. You’ve likely mastered that gift across many lifetimes.

It chose this Moon because it wanted to discover that wisdom and vulnerability can exist together.

That independence doesn’t require emotional isolation.

That belonging isn’t created by fitting in.

It’s created by showing up exactly as you are.

The older I become, the more I believe the highest expression of the Aquarius Moon isn’t individuality.

It’s authentic connection.

Not connection that asks you to become someone else.

Connection that celebrates the very qualities you’ve spent a lifetime wondering made you too different.

When you begin trusting that your uniqueness is your greatest contribution rather than your greatest obstacle, something extraordinary happens.

Your ideas become even more visionary because they are rooted in lived experience rather than emotional distance.

Your friendships become richer because you’re no longer sharing only your thoughts.

You’re sharing your heart.

Your compassion expands because it no longer exists only for humanity as a whole. It includes you.

And perhaps that is the true medicine of the Aquarius Moon.

To discover that the future you’re here to help create doesn’t begin with changing the world.

It begins with allowing yourself to belong within it. Exactly as you are.

Working With Your Moon

If you have an Aquarius Moon, begin noticing the moments when your mind immediately analyzes an emotion before you’ve allowed yourself to experience it.

The next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, resist the urge to solve the feeling.

Instead, ask yourself, What is my heart trying to tell me?

Practice sharing your inner world with one trusted person before you’ve completely figured it out. Allow yourself to say, I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling yet, but I’d like to explore it with you.

Spend time in community where authenticity is valued more than performance. Equally important, spend time alone reconnecting with your own emotional landscape without trying to explain it.

Notice when you’re giving your energy to everyone else while quietly neglecting your own emotional needs.

The same compassion you naturally extend toward humanity deserves to be offered inward.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that it was safer to observe life than fully participate in it?

What emotions do I tend to analyze instead of experience?

How would my relationships change if I trusted that being fully myself is the very thing that creates belonging?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t someone who becomes less independent.

It’s someone who discovers that true freedom includes allowing yourself to be deeply known. And perhaps that’s what your heart has been searching for all along.

Pisces Moon

There is something ancient about a Pisces Moon.

It is as though your heart remembers something that cannot quite be put into words. Long before you learned astrology, psychology, or spirituality, you probably sensed there was more to life than what could be seen. You have always felt the invisible threads connecting people, places, dreams, memories, and moments. While others move through life focused on what is tangible, your soul naturally drifts toward mystery.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Pisces Moon.

Your heart is deeply compassionate. You don’t simply empathize with another person’s pain- you often feel it as though it were your own (you are an emotional sponge). Joy moves through you. Grief moves through you. Beauty moves through you. There are moments when music, poetry, nature, or a single act of kindness can bring tears to your eyes because your heart instinctively recognizes the sacredness woven into ordinary life.

There is a profound softness to this Moon.

It reminds us that we are not separate from one another.

That beneath our stories, our identities, and our defenses, we all long for the same things- to love, to belong, to be understood, and to return home to ourselves.

You often possess an extraordinary imagination. Whether expressed through art, music, healing, spirituality, creativity, or simply the way you dream about what life could become, your soul naturally lives between worlds. You are able to sense possibilities before they exist, and because of that, you often become a source of hope and inspiration for the people around you.

There is something deeply healing about your presence.

People feel accepted by you.

They feel less judged.

Less alone.

You have a way of reminding them that every human being is carrying an invisible story.

That is a beautiful gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Pisces Moons, sensitivity became something they didn’t know how to hold.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that the world felt overwhelming. Perhaps your home carried emotional chaos. Maybe there were unspoken wounds that everyone quietly lived around. Perhaps you absorbed other people’s emotions because no one taught you where they ended and where you began. Or maybe your imagination became a refuge because reality often felt too painful to fully inhabit.

Children don’t know how to separate their feelings from those around them.

They simply absorb.

Like a sponge placed in water.

And so your heart quietly formed a strategy.

“If I dissolve into everything... maybe nothing can hurt me.”

At first, this strategy feels beautiful.

It makes you compassionate.

Intuitive.

Creative.

Spiritually connected.

You instinctively understand that life isn’t always black and white. You recognize nuance, mystery, and the invisible forces shaping human experience. You naturally forgive because your heart understands that everyone is carrying wounds you cannot always see. But eventually, what once protected you can begin dissolving your own sense of self.

This is one of the hidden stories many Pisces Moons carry.

Not that they don’t know who they are. But they sometimes lose themselves inside everyone else.

You may absorb another person’s emotions without realizing they’re not yours.

You may become the rescuer because someone else’s pain feels unbearable to witness.

You may struggle with boundaries because saying no feels like withholding love.

Or you may quietly disappear into work, spirituality, creativity, fantasy, relationships, or endless helping whenever life becomes emotionally overwhelming.

People often describe Pisces as escapist.

I don’t think that’s entirely true. I think Pisces simply longs to return to peace.

When reality feels harsh, your soul instinctively searches for a softer place to land.

Sometimes that’s prayer.

Sometimes it’s music.

Sometimes it’s art.

Sometimes it’s sleep.

Sometimes it’s imagining another life entirely.

None of these are inherently unhealthy.

The question is whether they help you return to yourself... or avoid yourself.

Relationships become one of the greatest teachers for the Pisces Moon because they continually ask you to remain present without losing your own center.

You love deeply. Perhaps more deeply than almost any other Moon sign.

You naturally see the highest potential in people. You believe in second chances. You want to understand rather than judge. There is incredible beauty in that.

But there are moments when compassion quietly becomes self-sacrifice.

You may continue giving long after your own heart has become exhausted.

You may mistake saving someone for loving them.

You may convince yourself that if you love deeply enough, another person will finally heal.

But healing has never worked that way.

Love can inspire transformation.

It cannot do another person’s work for them.

This is one of the most profound lessons of the Pisces Moon.

You can love someone completely without carrying them.

Your soul didn’t choose a Pisces Moon because it wanted you to escape the world.

It chose this Moon because it wanted you to become a bridge between the seen and the unseen.

Between humanity and divinity.

Between compassion and discernment.

Between surrender and selfhood.

The older I become, the more I believe the highest expression of the Pisces Moon isn’t unconditional love.

It’s conscious love.

Love that includes healthy boundaries.

Love that includes honesty.

Love that recognizes that saying no can sometimes be the most compassionate thing you can do.

When you begin grounding your extraordinary sensitivity, something remarkable happens.

Your intuition becomes clearer because it is no longer clouded by emotional overwhelm.

Your creativity becomes more powerful because it has structure to flow through.

Your spirituality becomes embodied because it isn’t trying to escape your human experience.

You stop searching for heaven somewhere else.

You begin creating it here.

Within your own life.

Within your own body.

Within your own relationships.

And perhaps that is the true medicine of the Pisces Moon.

To discover that you were never meant to dissolve into the ocean.

You were meant to remember that you are both the ocean... and the shore.

You are infinite. And you are beautifully human.

Both are true.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Pisces Moon, begin paying attention to the emotions you carry throughout the day.

Pause often and ask yourself, Is this feeling actually mine?

You may be surprised by how much you’ve unconsciously absorbed from the people around you.

Create daily rituals that help you return to yourself. Meditation. Prayer. Journaling. Time near water. Creative expression. Gentle movement. Solitude. These aren’t luxuries for your nervous system—they’re ways of clearing the emotional energy you naturally collect.

Practice setting boundaries without apologizing for them. Remember that protecting your energy isn’t selfish. It allows your compassion to remain sustainable instead of becoming depleted.

Most importantly, trust that your sensitivity isn’t something you need to fix.

It is one of your greatest gifts.

It simply needs a strong container.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that other people’s emotions were mine to carry?

When do I confuse compassion with self-sacrifice?

What would change if I believed I could remain deeply loving without losing myself in the process?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t someone who becomes less sensitive.

It’s someone who finally understands that empathy doesn’t require self-abandonment.

Your heart was never meant to disappear into the tides.

It was meant to become the lighthouse.

Guiding others home...because you first learned how to find your own way back.

Like and share if this resonates with you xo

love & stardust,

Ashley

There is a part of you that remains hidden.

Not because you are trying to hide it, but because it lives beneath conscious awareness. It exists in the quiet places of your psyche, influencing your reactions before your mind has time to explain them. It shapes what makes you feel safe, what makes you withdraw, what hurts more deeply than it should, and what you instinctively protect.

This is the other side of your Moon.

In astrology, I often call this the shadow of the Moon. Not because it is bad or broken, but because it exists outside the light of conscious awareness. Every Moon sign carries incredible gifts, but those gifts are often wrapped inside fears, defenses, old stories, ancestral patterns, and karmic memories that were developed to help us survive.

Your Moon is more than your emotions. It is the embodiment of your soul. It is your nervous system. It is your unconscious. It is the part of you that remembers experiences your conscious mind has long forgotten. Whether those memories belong to this lifetime or feel as though they echo across many, the Moon stores them all.

If you’ve ever had a reading with me, you know we don’t stop at surface-level astrology. We explore the places where your soul has learned to protect itself and the wisdom waiting beneath those protections.

Pop astrology is wonderful for helping us identify with our signs, but soul-centered astrology asks something deeper.

• What if the traits you’ve been trying to fix are actually survival strategies?

• What if your greatest strengths were born from your deepest wounds?

• What if the part of yourself you’ve judged the most has simply been waiting for compassion instead of criticism?

That is the invitation of this series.

Together, we’re going to explore the hidden landscape of each Moon sign- not to expose your flaws, but to illuminate the parts of yourself that deserve to be loved just as fiercely as your light.

This post dives into the moon signs of Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, and Virgo. Follow along for part 2!

*I'm sharing this content with you for free because I truly believe this work should be accessible. If my writing has supported, inspired, or resonated with you, I'd be so grateful if you'd consider becoming a paid subscriber. Your support allows me to continue creating these offerings and helps sustain this work. As a single mom, it means more than you know. Thank you xo

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Aries Moon

There is something beautifully honest about an Aries Moon.

Your emotions don’t wait for permission. They don’t ask whether they’re convenient or socially acceptable before making themselves known. They arrive like a spark catching dry grass, immediate and alive, asking to be experienced rather than explained. While others may spend days trying to decide how they feel, your heart already knows.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Aries Moon.

You teach us that emotions are meant to move.

They are energy. They are instinct. They are life itself.

There is a childlike quality to this placement that often gets misunderstood. Not childish, but childlike. Curious. Brave. Hopeful. Willing to begin again. Even after disappointment, there is something inside you that continues to believe another adventure awaits. Another love is possible. Another opportunity will come. Another sunrise will rise.

Your spirit is remarkably resilient.

You remind people that courage is not the absence of fear. It is choosing to keep living with an open heart despite it.

People are often drawn to your authenticity because they know where they stand with you. You don’t play emotional games. You don’t enjoy manipulation. You value honesty, directness, and forward movement. When you’re excited, everyone knows it. When you’re passionate, your enthusiasm becomes contagious. Your emotional fire has the remarkable ability to awaken the people around you, encouraging them to stop waiting and start living.

It is a beautiful gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

The same fire that gives you the courage to leap can also become the armor that keeps others from seeing how deeply you long to be held.

Beneath the confidence, beneath the independence, beneath the willingness to take charge, there is often a quieter story unfolding.

It is the story of someone who learned very early that relying on others didn’t always feel safe.

Sometimes this begins in childhood.

Perhaps the adults around you (especially your mother) were emotionally unavailable. Maybe they loved you deeply but didn’t know how to express it consistently. Maybe your emotions felt too big for the people responsible for caring for them. Or perhaps life simply required you to grow up a little faster than your heart was ready for.

Whatever your story, your nervous system quietly made a decision.

“I’ll figure it out myself.”

Children rarely choose their survival strategies consciously. Their bodies choose them.

When a child discovers that relying on themselves feels more predictable than relying on someone else, independence becomes more than a personality trait.

It becomes protection, and over time, that protection becomes an identity.

You become the capable one.

The strong one.

The one who doesn’t ask for help.

The one who figures things out.

From the outside, people admire your confidence.

They see someone who appears fearless, decisive, and self-assured.

What they often don’t see is how exhausting it can be to believe you always have to carry everything yourself.

Because beneath every fiercely independent Aries Moon is usually someone quietly wondering...

“If I let someone see how vulnerable I really am… will they still stay?”

This is where the shadow of the Aries Moon begins to reveal itself.

Not as a weakness. Not as something broken.

But as a nervous system that learned movement felt safer than stillness.

Action feels more comfortable than waiting.

Doing feels safer than receiving.

Anger often feels easier than grief.

Frustration feels easier than disappointment.

You may notice that when your heart is hurting, your first instinct is to fix the problem rather than sit with the feeling.

If someone disappoints you, you immediately begin making a plan.

If you’re overwhelmed, you become more productive.

If you’re heartbroken, you convince yourself you’ll be fine and throw your energy into the next project.

This isn’t because you don’t feel deeply.

It’s because somewhere along the way your body learned that staying in painful emotions felt dangerous.

So your fire keeps you moving.

For a while, this works.

Until one day, your body begins to ask you to slow down.

Because emotions don’t disappear simply because we outrun them.

They wait. Patiently. Quietly. Until we’re finally ready to listen.

Relationships often become the place where the Aries Moon begins to recognize this pattern.

You may deeply desire intimacy while simultaneously feeling uncomfortable when someone gets too close. You long to be understood, yet you instinctively reassure everyone that you’re “fine.”

You might find yourself attracting partners who encourage you to soften, not because they want to change you, but because your soul is ready to experience another way of being.

One that doesn’t require constant self-protection.

One that allows someone else to share the weight you’ve been carrying.

Sometimes you leave relationships before your heart has fully opened because leaving feels more familiar than risking rejection.

Sometimes you become frustrated when people don’t intuitively know what you need, even though you’ve never actually told them.

Sometimes your independence becomes so automatic that you forget relationships are meant to be places where support flows in both directions.

This doesn’t make it difficult for you to love.

It makes you beautifully human.

Your soul didn’t choose an Aries Moon because it wanted you to become stronger.

You’ve likely spent lifetimes learning strength.

Your soul chose this Moon because it wanted to discover another kind of courage.

The courage to receive.

The courage to trust.

The courage to remain present when your instinct is to run ahead.

The courage to allow someone to witness your tenderness without apologizing for it.

This Moon isn’t here to extinguish its fire.

Quite the opposite.

Your fire is sacred.

It is your life force.

It is your passion.

It is your ability to inspire others to stop waiting for permission to become themselves.

The invitation is simply to let that fire become warmth instead of armor.

To discover that strength isn’t measured by how much you carry alone.

It’s measured by how fully you allow yourself to participate in the human experience.

The older I become, the more I realize that bravery has very little to do with appearing fearless.

The bravest people I know are the ones who can say, “I’m scared.”

The ones who ask for help.

The ones who allow themselves to be loved without believing they have to earn it.

Perhaps that’s the lifelong invitation of the Aries Moon.

To discover that your heart was never meant to fight every battle alone.

It was meant to lead.

And the greatest leaders are not the ones who never need anyone.

They are the ones courageous enough to let others walk beside them.

Working With Your Moon

If you have an Aries Moon, begin noticing the moments when your first instinct is to immediately solve the problem.

Pause before taking action.

Ask yourself, What am I actually feeling underneath the urgency to fix or move through this?

Notice where your body tightens when someone offers help. Practice receiving without immediately trying to reciprocate. Let someone carry the groceries. Accept the compliment. Allow yourself to lean on a trusted friend when life feels heavy.

Your nervous system may tell you that dependence is dangerous.

Your healing will come from discovering that interdependence is different.

You don’t have to stop being independent.

You simply no longer have to be independent all the time.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that I had to be the strong one?

What part of me still believes asking for help is unsafe?

What would become possible if I trusted that I could be both powerful and deeply supported?

Because perhaps that’s what lives on the other side of your Moon.

Not a different version of you.

Just a softer one. And she’s been waiting patiently for you all along.

Taurus Moon

There is something deeply comforting about a Taurus Moon.

You have a way of slowing life down in a world that constantly asks us to speed up. While others chase the next goal or worry about tomorrow, your heart instinctively longs for what is tangible, nourishing, and enduring. You find beauty in the ordinary- the smell of fresh bread, the warmth of the sun on your skin, a garden in bloom, your favorite coffee mug, music filling the kitchen while dinner simmers on the stove. These aren’t just pleasant moments for you. They are medicine.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Taurus Moon.

You understand that healing doesn’t always happen during life’s grand revelations. More often, it happens through repetition. Through consistency. Through returning to the things that remind your nervous system that it is safe to exhale.

Your emotional world is deeply connected to your body. Long before your mind understands what’s happening, your body already knows. You carry stress in your shoulders. Anxiety settles into your stomach. Joy softens your breath. Love feels like warmth spreading through your chest. For you, emotions aren’t abstract ideas. They are physical experiences.

Perhaps that is why people often feel calmer around you.

Your presence is grounding. Steady. Reliable.

Like an old oak tree that has weathered countless storms without forgetting how to grow.

When someone you love is falling apart, you rarely rush to offer advice. Instead, you make them a meal. You sit beside them in silence. You remind them to eat, to sleep, to breathe. You instinctively understand that before a person can process their emotions, they first need to feel safe enough to have them.

That is a rare gift.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

And for the Taurus Moon, that protection often looks like holding on.

Holding on to relationships.

Holding on to routines.

Holding on to identities.

Holding on to places, memories, and versions of yourself long after your soul has quietly outgrown them.

The world often calls this stubbornness.

I don’t think that’s what it is.

I think it’s a nervous system that learned stability was precious.

Somewhere along the way, life may have felt uncertain.

Perhaps your childhood was marked by unexpected changes, inconsistency, financial stress, emotional unpredictability, or simply the feeling that what felt secure one day could disappear the next. Maybe your family moved often. Maybe the adults around you struggled to create consistency. Or perhaps love itself felt conditional, arriving warmly one moment and feeling distant the next.

Whatever your story, your body made a quiet promise.

“Find solid ground.”

Children don’t usually remember making these promises. But their nervous systems never forget them.

Over time, safety became intertwined with familiarity.

If something was familiar, your body assumed it was safe.

Even if it wasn’t.

This is where the shadow of the Taurus Moon begins to reveal itself.

Not through resistance to change for the sake of being difficult.

But through the fear that if you let go of what you’ve known, you might lose your footing entirely.

So you stay.

Sometimes in relationships that no longer nourish you.

Sometimes in careers you’ve already outgrown.

Sometimes inside identities that fit the person you were ten years ago but no longer reflect who you’re becoming.

You may tell yourself you’re simply being loyal.

And often, you are.

Loyalty is one of your greatest strengths.

But there is an important difference between loyalty and attachment.

Loyalty comes from love.

Attachment often comes from fear.

One expands your life.

The other quietly keeps it small.

This becomes especially visible in relationships.

When a Taurus Moon loves, they love deeply.

You don’t fall quickly.

You build trust slowly, carefully, brick by brick. But once someone earns a place in your heart, your devotion is unwavering. You become the person who shows up. The person who stays. The person who remembers the little things that make someone feel cherished.

There is something profoundly beautiful about that kind of love.

But it can also make endings incredibly difficult.

Not because you don’t know something has changed.

You usually know long before anyone else.

But because your heart doesn’t let go simply because your mind says it should.

You grieve slowly.

You process gradually.

You need time.

And sometimes, if you’re honest, you need permission.

Permission to release the life you thought you were building.

Permission to disappoint someone.

Permission to choose yourself without believing you’ve failed.

There is another pattern that often lives beneath this Moon.

Because your nervous system values stability so deeply, uncertainty can feel physically uncomfortable. You may delay making decisions, not because you don’t know what you want, but because once you choose, something else must end.

And endings have a way of stirring old fears.

So you wait.

You gather more information.

You tell yourself you’re being practical.

Sometimes you are.

Sometimes your soul is simply asking you to trust yourself more than you trust certainty.

Your soul didn’t choose a Taurus Moon because it wanted life to remain comfortable. It chose this Moon because it wanted to redefine what security truly means.

Real security isn’t found in relationships that never change.

Or jobs that last forever.

Or bank accounts that never fluctuate.

Real security is knowing that no matter what changes around you, you will not abandon yourself.

That is the lesson.

Not learning how to hold on.

Learning how to trust your own roots.

Because roots don’t stop a tree from growing.

They simply give it the confidence to reach toward the sky.

I often think the Taurus Moon has one of the most beautiful healing journeys of the zodiac.

It begins by searching for safety in the outside world.

A relationship.

A home.

A routine.

A predictable future.

But over time, life gently invites you inward.

It asks you to discover that the peace you’ve been trying to create around yourself has always been something you were capable of cultivating within yourself.

When that shift happens, everything changes.

You no longer cling because you’re afraid.

You choose because your heart is aligned.

You no longer remain where you’ve outgrown your own becoming.

You trust that what is meant for you will meet you as you continue to evolve.

And perhaps that’s the true medicine of the Taurus Moon.

To become so deeply rooted within yourself that change no longer feels like something happening to you.

It simply becomes another season of your becoming.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Taurus Moon, begin paying attention to the places in your life where comfort has quietly become complacency.

Ask yourself whether what you’re holding onto is still nourishing you, or whether it simply feels familiar.

Spend time in your body every day. Walk barefoot in the grass. Cook meals from scratch. Tend a garden. Stretch slowly. Practice breathwork. Let your body remind you that safety isn’t something you have to earn—it is something you can cultivate.

When change begins knocking at your door, notice your first reaction.

Is it your intuition saying “not yet”?

Or is it your nervous system trying to protect you from uncertainty?

The more you learn the difference, the more confidently you’ll move through life’s inevitable transitions.

Sit With This...

Where in my life have I mistaken familiarity for security?

What am I holding onto because I’m afraid of who I might become if I let it go?

How can I create a greater sense of safety within myself rather than searching for it outside of me?

Because on the other side of your Moon is a profound truth.

You have never been the things you’ve held onto.

You have always been the steady ground beneath them.

And that ground has been within you all along.

Gemini Moon

There is something endlessly curious about a Gemini Moon.

Your heart wants to understand the world. It wants to know why people do what they do, why conversations unfold the way they do, and why one experience changes a person while another leaves them untouched. While some people process life through feeling, you naturally process it through observation. Your mind is always collecting pieces of the puzzle, connecting seemingly unrelated ideas, and weaving stories together until they begin to make sense.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Gemini Moon.

You possess an incredible ability to create perspective. When life feels heavy, you instinctively widen the lens. You ask questions that help people see another possibility. You find language for emotions that others struggle to articulate. Your curiosity becomes a bridge between confusion and clarity, helping both yourself and those around you make sense of experiences that once felt impossible to understand.

You are a natural storyteller.

A teacher.

A lifelong student of human nature.

People often leave conversations with you feeling lighter, not because you’ve solved their problems, but because you’ve helped them see those problems from a different angle. There is something deeply healing about your ability to communicate. Words have always been one of your love languages.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Gemini Moons, the mind became a place to seek refuge.

Not because you don’t feel deeply.

But because thinking often felt safer than feeling.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that emotions weren’t always welcome. Perhaps your family valued intelligence over vulnerability. Maybe there wasn’t much room for sadness, anger, or fear because life simply kept moving. Or perhaps you became the child who learned to adapt to everyone around you, changing the conversation rather than revealing what was happening in your own heart.

Children are remarkably intuitive. They quickly discover which parts of themselves receive attention and which parts are quietly overlooked.

For many Gemini Moons, curiosity was celebrated, and feelings were often redirected.

So your brilliant mind stepped in to protect your heart.

Instead of crying, you asked questions.

Instead of sitting with disappointment, you searched for an explanation.

Instead of allowing yourself to feel lost, you gathered more information.

Without realizing it, understanding became your coping mechanism.

If you could explain something, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt as much.

If you could make sense of it, perhaps you could move on.

This strategy served you well for a long time.

It made you intelligent.

Adaptable.

Insightful.

It taught you how to communicate with people from all walks of life and how to navigate uncertainty by remaining curious instead of becoming overwhelmed.

But eventually, what once protected you can begin creating distance from your own emotional world.

The Gemini Moon often knows exactly what they think before they know what they feel.

You can explain your heartbreak with remarkable clarity while still not allowing yourself to fully grieve it.

You can spend hours analyzing a relationship instead of simply admitting that it hurt.

You can intellectualize your anxiety, your loneliness, or your fear, hoping that if you understand it well enough, it will quietly disappear.

But emotions don’t work that way.

They aren’t puzzles waiting to be solved.

They’re experiences asking to be lived.

This is one of the quiet paradoxes of the Gemini Moon.

Your mind is so extraordinary that it sometimes interrupts your heart.

Not intentionally.

Lovingly.

Protectively.

Your thoughts become a buffer between you and the depth of what you’re feeling.

It’s a beautiful defense.

Until one day you realize you’ve become fluent in talking about emotions without always allowing yourself to experience them.

This pattern often becomes most visible in relationships.

Communication may come naturally to you, yet vulnerability can feel surprisingly unfamiliar. You may find yourself talking around your feelings instead of through them. You may ask your partner endless questions while struggling to answer the simplest one yourself.

“How are you feeling?”

Sometimes you genuinely don’t know. Not because the feeling isn’t there but because your mind arrived before your heart had a chance to speak.

You may also find yourself seeking constant stimulation when life becomes emotionally uncomfortable. A new book. Another podcast. Another conversation. Another idea. Another project. Your curiosity keeps moving, hoping that somewhere along the way you’ll stumble upon the answer that finally brings peace.

But peace rarely comes through more information. It comes through presence.

Your soul didn’t choose a Gemini Moon because it wanted you to know everything.

It chose this Moon because it wanted to discover the wisdom that exists beyond words.

There are moments in life that cannot be explained.

Only felt.

The birth of a child.

The loss of someone you love.

Standing beneath a sky full of stars.

Falling in love.

Watching your heart break.

No amount of language can fully capture those experiences.

They ask something different of you.

They ask you to soften.

To trust.

To stop narrating the moment long enough to inhabit it.

I think this is the great invitation of the Gemini Moon.

To discover that your heart has its own intelligence.

One that doesn’t always speak in complete sentences.

One that doesn’t need evidence before it knows the truth.

One that communicates through tears, laughter, goosebumps, intuition, silence, and the subtle sensations that move through your body before your mind has time to interpret them.

When you begin honoring that language, something extraordinary happens.

Your curiosity doesn’t disappear.

It deepens.

You stop collecting information simply to feel certain.

You begin gathering wisdom.

Your conversations become more intimate because you’re no longer speaking only from your mind.

You’re speaking from your whole being.

And your words begin carrying something they couldn’t before.

Presence.

Because the greatest teachers are rarely the ones with all the answers.

They are the ones who have learned how to remain open to mystery.

Perhaps that is the hidden medicine of the Gemini Moon.

Not becoming less curious.

But becoming curious enough to explore your own inner landscape with the same fascination you’ve always reserved for the outside world.

To sit with a feeling without rushing to define it.

To trust your heart before asking your mind for permission.

And to discover that sometimes the most profound truths arrive not through thinking...

But through simply allowing yourself to feel.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Gemini Moon, begin noticing the moments when your mind immediately jumps in to explain what you’re experiencing.

The next time you’re upset, resist the urge to ask, Why do I feel this way?

Instead, ask, What does this feel like in my body?

Where do you notice tension?

Warmth?

Tightness?

Expansion?

Before reaching for a book, a podcast, or someone else’s perspective, spend a few quiet moments with your own experience. Journal without trying to make your writing sound insightful. Meditate without searching for an answer. Practice letting your heart speak before inviting your mind into the conversation.

Over time, you’ll begin to recognize that your greatest wisdom doesn’t come from choosing between your head and your heart.

It comes from allowing them to work together.

Sit With This...

When do I use logical understanding to avoid feeling?

What emotion have I been trying to explain instead of experience?

How would my life change if I trusted my heart to know something before my mind could prove it?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t a quieter mind.

It’s a heart that has finally realized it never needed to compete with your brilliance.

It simply wanted to be included in the conversation.

Cancer Moon

There is something profoundly sacred about a Cancer Moon.

Of all the Moon signs, this is the one most at home in the realm of emotion. The Moon rules Cancer, making this placement deeply attuned to the tides of feeling that move through both the inner and outer world. Your emotions ebb and flow like the ocean, responding not only to your own experiences but often to the emotional currents surrounding you. Long before someone speaks, you can sense the shift in their energy. Long before your mind understands what’s happening, your heart already knows.

This is your gift.

You possess an extraordinary capacity to make people feel safe. There is a softness about you that invites others to exhale. You remember the little things that make people feel loved. You instinctively know when someone needs encouragement, a warm meal, a hug, or simply someone willing to sit beside them without trying to fix what they’re feeling.

Home, to you, has never simply been a place.

It is an experience.

It is the feeling of belonging.

It is knowing that someone sees you exactly as you are and chooses to stay.

You have an incredible ability to create that feeling for other people. Whether you’re aware of it or not, you often become the emotional anchor within your family, your friendships, your community, or your workplace. People naturally seek you out because they feel understood in your presence. They feel less alone.

This is the quiet magic of the Cancer Moon.

You remind people that tenderness is not weakness.

It is one of the greatest forms of strength.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Cancer Moons, nurturing others didn’t begin as a personality trait.

It began as a survival strategy.

Somewhere early in life, you may have realized that paying attention to everyone else’s emotions helped you feel safe. Perhaps you grew up in a home where the emotional atmosphere changed quickly, and you learned to read the room before you walked into it. Maybe one parent needed more from you than a child should ever be asked to give. Perhaps you became the peacekeeper, the helper, or the one who quietly held everyone together while your own feelings waited patiently in the background.

Children are remarkably perceptive.

They instinctively learn what role they need to play in order to maintain connection.

For many Cancer Moons, that role became the caretaker.

You learned to anticipate other people’s needs before they had to ask.

You became incredibly intuitive.

Empathetic.

Compassionate.

Emotionally available.

These qualities became some of your greatest gifts.

But they also became the places where your own heart quietly disappeared.

Without realizing it, you may have begun measuring your worth by how much you could give.

If people needed you, perhaps they would stay.

If you made everyone else feel safe, perhaps you would finally feel safe too.

This is one of the hidden stories many Cancer Moons carry.

Not that love must be earned.

But that love is maintained through emotional labor.

Over time, this creates a subtle imbalance.

You become the one everyone leans on.

The one who remembers birthdays.

The one who checks in.

The one who listens for hours.

The one who notices when someone says they’re “fine” but clearly aren’t.

You become so skilled at caring for everyone else that very few people realize how deeply you long to be cared for yourself.

The irony is that you often make it look effortless.

You rarely ask for much.

You tell yourself you’ll be okay.

You convince yourself that giving fills your cup.

And sometimes it does. But sometimes it leaves you quietly depleted.

Because there is a profound difference between giving from abundance and giving from the hope that someone will eventually love you the way you’ve been loving everyone else.

Another pattern that often lives beneath the Cancer Moon is the instinct to retreat.

Like the crab, you carry your home on your back.

When life feels overwhelming, you instinctively withdraw into your inner world. Sometimes this is exactly what your soul needs. Solitude allows you to reconnect with yourself and process the emotions you’ve absorbed throughout the day.

But sometimes the shell becomes something else. It becomes protection.

You tell yourself no one would understand anyway.

You wait for someone to notice you’re hurting instead of telling them.

You quietly hope the people you love will care for you in the same intuitive way you’ve cared for them.

When they don’t, your heart feels disappointed.

Not because they don’t love you. Because they don’t love in the same language you’ve become fluent in.

Relationships become some of the greatest teachers for the Cancer Moon because they continually ask you to receive.

Not just to give.

To let someone else cook the meal.

To let someone else ask how you’re doing.

To let someone else hold space for your tears without feeling guilty for taking up room.

This can feel surprisingly uncomfortable.

Because receiving often requires vulnerability.

And vulnerability asks you to believe that you are lovable simply because you exist—not because of everything you do for everyone else.

Your soul didn’t choose a Cancer Moon because it wanted you to spend your life taking care of other people.

It chose this Moon because it wanted you to discover the sacred balance between nurturing others and nurturing yourself.

The lesson isn’t to stop loving so deeply. Please don’t. The world desperately needs hearts like yours.

The lesson is remembering that your compassion belongs to you, too.

That your own heart deserves the same tenderness you’ve spent a lifetime offering everyone else.

That boundaries do not diminish your love. They protect it.

The more you begin honoring your own emotional tides, the more authentic your nurturing becomes. You stop rescuing people because you’re afraid they’ll leave. You begin loving from a place of fullness rather than obligation. Your intuition becomes clearer because it is no longer clouded by exhaustion. Your relationships become more reciprocal because you’ve finally allowed yourself to have needs.

And perhaps that’s the true medicine of the Cancer Moon.

To realize that home was never something you were meant to create for everyone else while leaving yourself out.

You are part of that home.

Your heart belongs there, too.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Cancer Moon, begin paying attention to where you instinctively care for others before checking in with yourself.

The next time someone asks for your time or energy, pause for a moment and ask yourself, Do I actually have the capacity to give right now?

Notice how often you anticipate someone else’s needs while overlooking your own.

Practice expressing what you need before hoping someone will intuitively know. Let people support you, even if they don’t do it exactly the way you would have done it for them.

Spend time creating rituals that nourish you without requiring you to care for anyone else. A bath. A walk near water. Journaling. Cooking yourself a beautiful meal. Sitting quietly with a cup of tea. These moments remind your nervous system that you are worthy of receiving your own love.

Over time, you’ll discover that caring for yourself doesn’t take away from your ability to care for others.

It deepens it.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that my value came from taking care of everyone else?

What emotions have I been carrying that were never mine to hold?

What would it feel like to believe I am worthy of being loved, even when I’m not the one doing the nurturing?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t a heart that loves less.

It’s a heart that finally includes itself in the love it has always so freely given away.

Leo Moon

There is something radiant about a Leo Moon.

Your heart was never meant to hide. It came into this lifetime with an innate desire to express itself, to create, to love boldly, and to leave the people and places it touches a little brighter than before. You don’t simply experience joy—you embody it. There is a warmth about you that invites others to laugh more freely, dream more boldly, and remember the playful parts of themselves they may have forgotten along the way.

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Leo Moon.

You have a remarkable ability to see the light in other people. You celebrate their accomplishments as though they were your own. You encourage them when they doubt themselves. You instinctively know how to make someone feel special, appreciated, and deeply seen. Whether through a thoughtful compliment, an unexpected act of generosity, or simply believing in someone before they believe in themselves, your heart naturally amplifies the beauty in others.

There is an unmistakable generosity to this Moon.

When you love, you love wholeheartedly.

When you create, you create from your soul.

When you show up, you bring your whole heart with you.

Life is not meant to be lived halfway, and somewhere deep inside you, you’ve always known that.

People often mistake this for wanting attention.

But what they fail to understand is that a Leo Moon isn’t simply seeking to be seen.

It’s seeking to be known.

To be loved for who they truly are, not just for what they do or how brightly they shine.

There is a profound difference.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Leo Moons, visibility became intertwined with worthiness.

Somewhere early in life, you may have learned that being noticed felt safer than being ordinary. Perhaps you were praised for your achievements, your talents, your humor, or your ability to make everyone smile. Maybe you became the “good child,” the performer, the athlete, the caretaker, or the one who brought joy into difficult situations. Or perhaps recognition was inconsistent, arriving only when you accomplished something, making love feel like something that had to be earned rather than something that simply existed.

Children don’t question these experiences.

They adapt to them.

And so your heart quietly formed a belief.

“If I shine brightly enough... I’ll be loved.”

At first, this belief can become a beautiful source of motivation.

It encourages you to develop your gifts.

To create.

To lead.

To inspire.

To become someone others admire.

But eventually, what once inspired you can begin exhausting you.

Because if your worth depends on being exceptional, what happens on the days you feel ordinary?

What happens when you’re grieving?

When you’re tired?

When you don’t have the energy to inspire everyone else?

Who are you when you’re no longer performing?

These are the questions the Leo Moon eventually asks.

Not because your confidence isn’t real. But beneath that confidence often lives a quieter fear.

“Will people still love me if I’m not shining?”

This is one of the hidden stories many Leo Moons carry.

Not a fear of being unseen.

A fear of being unseen once the applause fades.

This can show up in surprisingly subtle ways.

You may struggle to receive criticism because it touches something much older than the present moment. You may find yourself overextending, saying yes to too many commitments, or feeling responsible for keeping everyone’s spirits high. You become the encourager, the motivator, the one who reminds everyone else of their greatness, while quietly wondering if anyone sees the moments when your own light feels dim.

Sometimes you keep giving because it feels safer than admitting you need encouragement too.

Sometimes you stay busy creating because stillness leaves you alone with questions you’ve spent years trying to outrun.

Sometimes you make yourself smaller because you’ve learned your light can make other people uncomfortable.

Both are forms of self-protection.

One performs.

The other hides.

Neither allows your heart to simply exist.

Relationships become one of the greatest classrooms for the Leo Moon because they ask you to separate love from validation.

You naturally bring warmth, romance, playfulness, and devotion into the people you care about. You want the people you love to flourish. Their joy genuinely brings you joy.

But over time, relationships invite you to ask a deeper question.

Can you allow yourself to be loved on the days when you have nothing to offer except your presence?

Can you receive affection without earning it?

Can you believe that your worth isn’t measured by how much inspiration, entertainment, beauty, or success you bring into someone else’s life?

Your soul didn’t choose a Leo Moon because it wanted you to become more extraordinary.

You’ve likely always known how to shine.

Your soul chose this Moon because it wanted to discover that your light is not something you create.

It is something you are.

There is a profound difference.

One requires constant effort.

The other simply asks you to remember.

The older I become, the more I believe the highest expression of the Leo Moon has very little to do with confidence.

It has everything to do with authenticity.

Because true confidence isn’t performing a version of yourself that everyone applauds.

It is allowing yourself to be fully seen in every season of your life.

The joyful seasons.

The grieving seasons.

The uncertain seasons.

The quiet seasons when no one is watching.

When you stop measuring your value by external recognition, something beautiful happens.

Your creativity becomes freer.

Your leadership becomes more compassionate.

Your generosity becomes effortless because it is no longer fueled by the hope of being appreciated.

You begin creating simply because your soul delights in creating.

You begin loving simply because your heart delights in loving.

You begin shining because you’ve stopped asking for permission.

And perhaps that is the true medicine of the Leo Moon.

To discover that the sun never questions whether it deserves to rise each morning.

It simply does.

Not because someone is watching.

But because shining is its nature.

The same is true for you.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Leo Moon, begin noticing the moments when you seek validation before trusting your own heart.

Ask yourself, Would I still choose this if no one applauded?

Spend time creating something simply for the joy of creating. Paint. Dance. Sing. Write. Cook. Garden. Let creativity become a conversation between you and your soul rather than a performance for the world.

Notice where you instinctively take on the role of encourager, entertainer, or leader. Then gently ask yourself what you need in that moment. Practice allowing others to celebrate you without immediately shifting the attention back to them.

Most importantly, give yourself permission to have ordinary days.

Days when you rest.

Days where you’re uncertain.

Days where your heart simply wants to exist without producing, inspiring, or proving anything.

Your light doesn’t disappear because you stop performing.

It becomes even more authentic.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that I had to earn recognition in order to feel loved?

Who am I when I’m not trying to impress, inspire, or achieve?

What would change if I believed my presence was enough, even on the quiet days?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t a brighter version of yourself.

It’s the version that finally realizes your light was never dependent on anyone else’s applause.

It has been shining within you all along.

Virgo Moon

There is something quietly beautiful about a Virgo Moon as you notice the things most people overlook.

The subtle shift in someone’s voice that tells you they’re not really okay. The tiny details that make a house feel like a home. The forgotten task that needs tending. The practical solution that brings order to chaos. While others may be swept away by emotion, your instinct is to ask, What would actually help?

This is one of the greatest gifts of the Virgo Moon.

You express love through presence, consistency, and care. You don’t always need grand gestures or elaborate declarations. Your affection often looks like remembering someone’s favorite tea, making sure they’ve eaten, proofreading an important email, picking up groceries on the way home, or quietly doing the things that make another person’s life a little easier.

There is a humility to this Moon that is often misunderstood.

You rarely need to be the loudest voice in the room. You don’t seek recognition for what you do because, to you, love has always lived in the little things. In showing up. In being reliable. In paying attention. You understand that devotion isn’t always dramatic. More often, it is found in the ordinary moments that quietly say, I thought of you.

People often describe Virgo Moons as organized, analytical, or perfectionistic.

While there is truth in those descriptions, I think they miss something much deeper.

At its highest expression, Virgo is the archetype of sacred service.

It asks, How can I leave this world a little better than I found it?

Whether that service is offered through your work, your family, your community, your healing gifts, or simply the way you care for the people you love, there is a part of your soul that genuinely wants to reduce suffering.

It is one of your greatest strengths.

But every emotional gift develops alongside an emotional protection.

For many Virgo Moons, striving didn’t begin as ambition.

It began as safety.

Somewhere early in life, your nervous system may have learned that making mistakes wasn’t safe. Perhaps there were high expectations placed upon you. Maybe love was expressed through achievement rather than affection. Perhaps criticism arrived more often than praise, leaving you with the quiet belief that if you could just do everything perfectly, life would finally feel secure.

Children don’t consciously decide to become perfectionists.

They simply adapt to the environments that shaped them.

And so your heart quietly formed a strategy.

“If I can get it right... I’ll be safe.”

At first, this strategy serves you remarkably well.

It makes you dependable.

Thoughtful.

Responsible.

Competent.

You become the person others rely on because you genuinely care. You notice what needs to be done before anyone asks. You anticipate problems before they happen. You think ahead. You prepare. You organize. You improve.

From the outside, it looks effortless.

Inside, it can feel exhausting.

Because when your nervous system believes safety depends on getting everything right, there is very little room for simply being human.

Mistakes begin to feel personal.

Rest can feel undeserved.

Receiving help may feel strangely uncomfortable because you’ve become so accustomed to being the one who has everything under control.

Without realizing it, your inner critic slowly becomes louder than your inner compassion.

You notice everything that could be improved.

Including yourself.

This is one of the hidden stories many Virgo Moons carry.

Not that they aren’t enough. But that they believe they could always be more.

More productive.

More organized.

More disciplined.

More successful.

More helpful.

More healed.

The list never truly ends.

Ironically, the qualities other people admire most about you—your dedication, your reliability, your willingness to serve—are often the very qualities you quietly take for granted.

You rarely stop long enough to acknowledge how much you’ve already done because your attention is already focused on what still remains.

Relationships often become the place where this pattern is lovingly revealed.

You are incredibly attentive to the people you love. You notice their needs before they speak them. You offer thoughtful advice, practical solutions, and unwavering support. You genuinely want the people in your life to flourish.

But there can also be moments when helping becomes a way of staying emotionally safe.

It’s easier to solve someone else’s problem than to admit your own heart is hurting.

It’s easier to stay busy than to sit with uncertainty.

It’s easier to care for everyone else than to ask for what you need.

Over time, you may begin wondering why no one takes care of you in the same way you’ve cared for them.

Often, it’s because you’ve become so skilled at appearing capable that people don’t realize how much you’re carrying.

Your soul didn’t choose a Virgo Moon because it wanted you to become perfect.

It chose this Moon because it wanted to redefine what wholeness truly means.

Wholeness isn’t perfection. Wholeness is allowing every part of yourself to belong.

The organized parts.

The messy parts.

The confident parts.

The uncertain parts.

The parts that have it all together.

And the parts that don’t.

There is something deeply healing that begins to happen when a Virgo Moon realizes they are not a project to be completed.

You are not a problem to solve.

You are not a checklist waiting to be finished.

You are a living, breathing soul having a human experience.

The older I become, the more I believe the highest expression of Virgo isn’t found in flawless execution.

It’s found in compassionate presence.

The ability to meet yourself exactly where you are instead of constantly focusing on where you think you should be.

When that shift begins, your gifts become even more profound.

Your discernment becomes wisdom instead of criticism.

Your service becomes joyful instead of obligatory.

Your attention to detail becomes an offering instead of a burden.

You begin helping others because it fills your heart, not because your worth depends upon being useful.

And perhaps that is the true medicine of the Virgo Moon.

To discover that you were never sent here to perfect your life.

You were sent here to live it fully.

Messy moments included.

Working With Your Moon

If you have a Virgo Moon, begin noticing how often your inner dialogue revolves around what still needs to be fixed.

When you catch yourself focusing on what isn’t enough, gently ask, What is already good?

Practice celebrating progress rather than perfection.

Allow yourself to complete something without endlessly refining it. Accept help before you feel completely overwhelmed. Let someone care for you without feeling like you need to earn it first.

Spend time connecting with your body rather than your productivity. Walk in nature. Tend a garden. Cook a nourishing meal without rushing. Practice yoga, breathwork, or meditation that invites you to experience yourself rather than improve yourself.

Most importantly, notice how often you extend compassion to everyone except yourself.

Then begin offering yourself the same grace.

Little by little. Day by day.

Sit With This...

Where did I first learn that my worth was connected to what I accomplished?

What part of me is still trying to earn love by being useful?

How would my life change if I believed I was already enough before I fixed one more thing?

Because on the other side of your Moon isn’t a more perfect version of yourself.

It’s the version that finally understands you were never meant to become flawless.

You were always meant to become whole.

How did this resonate for you? Drop a comment and let’s chat.

Part 2 coming up next…

love & stardust,

Ashley

I just got home from a few days camping around Crested Butte, Colorado, and honestly... a part of me is still there.

There was something profoundly healing about watching the wildflowers bloom while simultaneously feeling myself bloom right alongside them. Somewhere between the alpine lakes, the endless fields of flowers, and sitting quietly beneath giant, majestic aspen trees, I found myself reflecting on the life that brought me here.

It took me back to the day I decided to leave Florida and move to Colorado- a decision that, at the time, made absolutely no logical sense. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t practical. It was simply one of those unmistakable nudges from Spirit that my soul refused to ignore.

Looking back, I can honestly say it was one of the lowest points of my life. I was a shell of the woman I am today. My life looked successful from the outside, having just finished grad school, but inside I felt like I was slowly drowning. Something deep within me knew I couldn’t stay where I was. I didn’t know exactly what I was moving toward... I only knew I had to move.

So I listened.

As I sat on that fallen log, surrounded by towering aspens that have probably witnessed thousands of creatures finding themselves beneath their branches, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for every hard season. Every wrong turn. Every heartbreak. Every moment I thought my life was falling apart.

Because without any of it... I wouldn’t have been sitting exactly where I was.

Funny how perspective changes everything.

I don’t revisit those chapters with sadness anymore. I revisit them with compassion. They weren’t mistakes. They were initiations. They were the experiences that cracked me open enough to become the person writing these words today.

A little shoutout to my man Ram Dass, because his teachings have helped shape this perspective more than almost anyone. If you’ve never listened to his talks or his podcast, do yourself a favor and start now.

https://beherenownetwork.com/category/ram-dass-here-and-now/

As you read this week’s horoscope, I’d love for you to reflect on one or two moments that completely changed the trajectory of your life.

Maybe it’s a memory you still carry with guilt.
Maybe it’s grief.
Maybe it’s heartbreak.
Maybe it’s a decision you wish you had made differently.

What if you looked at that version of yourself through the eyes of the person you’ve become today?

Not to judge them.

To understand them.

To thank them.

Because that is the invitation of this week’s astrology.

As we prepare for the New Moon in Cancer, closely connected with Mercury retrograde in Cancer, we are invited to revisit the past- not to get lost there, but to reclaim the wisdom hidden inside it. Cancer remembers. Mercury retrograde reflects. Together, they ask us to look back with softer eyes and a more compassionate heart.

Not because we’re trying to rewrite history.

But because our consciousness has changed.

We know things now that we couldn’t have known then.

We have resources now that we didn’t have then.

We have become someone that the former version of ourselves would be proud of.

This isn’t a week for beating yourself up or wishing things had unfolded differently.

It’s a week for recognizing that the person you were did the very best they could with the awareness they had at the time.

And maybe...

Just maybe...

It’s time to wrap your arms around that younger version of yourself and whisper the words they may have needed to hear all along:

“You did the best you could. And I am so incredibly proud of you.”

Because that is what bringing the past into the present is really about.

Not reliving it but loving it enough to finally let it become part of your wisdom instead of your wound.

Monday, July 13

Venus in Virgo square Uranus in Gemini

Venus in Virgo likes plans. Uranus likes surprises.

You may notice changes in relationships, finances, routines, or simply how you value your time and energy. Something that felt predictable may suddenly ask for more flexibility.

Sometimes the interruption is the invitation.

In the body:
Restlessness, nervous energy, or an immediate desire to change something.

Work with it:
Stay flexible.

Ask yourself what this unexpected moment is trying to teach you rather than rushing to fix it.

Tuesday, July 14

New Moon in Cancer

This New Moon feels less like a beginning and more like a homecoming.

With Mercury retrograde sitting beside the New Moon, the past has something to offer you- but only if you’re willing to meet it with compassion instead of judgment.

Old memories may surface. Conversations from years ago may suddenly make sense. You may find yourself reflecting on a version of yourself you no longer recognize, yet deeply appreciate.

This isn’t about getting stuck in the past. It’s about bringing the past into the present so you can see it through the eyes of who you’ve become.

In the body:
You may feel nostalgic, emotionally tender, or drawn toward home, family, familiar places, or old photographs. Your nervous system may crave comfort, rest, and nourishment.

Work with it:
Reflect before you write your intentions.

Ask yourself:

What have I learned about myself because of what I’ve lived through?

What part of my past deserves forgiveness?

What part deserves gratitude?

Wednesday, July 15

Moon in Leo

Uranus sextile Neptune

After yesterday’s inward focus, Leo reminds us to play.

Meanwhile, Uranus and Neptune create beautiful energy for inspired ideas, creativity, intuition, and dreaming beyond your current circumstances.

Your imagination may know something your logical mind hasn’t caught up to yet.

In the body:
Creative energy, inspiration, excitement.

Work with it:
Create.

Dance.

Follow what lights you up.

Joy is information.

Thursday, July 16

Void Moon until 6:06 PM MT

Moon enters Virgo

The universe presses the pause button.

Void Moons aren’t ideal for forcing outcomes or making major decisions. Instead, let yourself catch up.

By evening, the Virgo Moon helps you organize the inspiration that has been arriving throughout the week.

In the body:
Slower energy, mental fog, a desire to simplify.

Work with it:
Rest.

Declutter.

Prepare rather than push.

Friday, July 17

Uranus trine Pluto

One of my favorite transits.

This is breakthrough energy, but the sustainable kind.

Old ways of thinking begin making room for new possibilities.

You may notice yourself responding differently to situations that would have triggered you in the past.

That’s growth. YAY!

In the body:
A quiet sense of confidence and clarity.

Work with it:
Notice what’s changing inside of you.

Saturday, July 18

Virgo Moon square Mars in Gemini

Mars wants to do everything.

Virgo wants to do everything perfectly.

The tension comes when your mind is moving faster than your body can keep up.

In the body:
Mental overstimulation, scattered energy, digestive sensitivity.

Work with it:
Choose one priority.

Hydrate.

Eat nourishing food.

Your nervous system doesn’t need another to-do list. It needs your attention.

Sunday, July 19

Mars sextile Saturn

This is one of those quietly productive transits that reminds us discipline isn’t punishment.

It’s devotion.

Mars provides motivation.

Saturn provides direction.

Together, they help us build something that actually lasts.

In the body:
Steady energy, focus, determination.

Work with it:
Take one meaningful action toward something you’ve been building.

You don’t need to finish the journey today.

You just need to keep walking.

My Reflection

Life isn’t asking you to rewrite your past. It’s asking you to honor it.

To recognize that every version of you was doing the best they could with the awareness they had at the time. The younger version of you wasn’t trying to make mistakes. They were trying to survive. They were trying to love. They were trying to find their way home.

Now you’re the future version they were becoming.

What a gift.

So this week, if an old memory surfaces, don’t rush to push it away. Sit with it for a moment. Notice what it has to teach you now that you couldn’t understand then. Offer that younger version of yourself the compassion, encouragement, and grace they may have never received.

Because healing isn’t changing the past. It’s changing your relationship with it.

The Cancer New Moon reminds us that home is not just a place we return to. It is something we cultivate within ourselves. It is the moment we stop fighting where we’ve been and begin trusting that every experience, every detour, every heartbreak, and every unexpected turn has been quietly shaping us into who we are today.

So plant your intentions this week with gratitude- not just for where you’re going, but for every version of yourself that got you here. I AM SO DAMN PROUD OF YOU!

love & stardust,

Ashley