As I’m writing these lines today, I realise that I have been crying a lot. Over the past 2-3 weeks, my spirit urged me to surrender more, to let go, to abandon myself into an ocean of emotions and cruel unknown that I am well acquainted with. The almost quiet despair of things not working, of projects not following through, of not experiencing the right timings, of not meeting the right people for the ideas I have or of seeing a lot of dear people and animals around me suffer, including my own familiar, my cat. The worst thing for a healer or guide is definitely to be unable to contribute or find solutions for those in need.
These weeks of August…well, they bring so much to transmute, feel, understand and leave behind. Only if we are attuned to the frequency of both open-heart and surrender.
The days will feel like full of echoes of what needs to leave, for the new to enter. Some days will also be more filled with a mellow sorrow. Dipped in silence and maybe a stillness that needs to be seen, not rushed to leave.
I know the world is heavy right now to the sensitive women souls. We carry so much in our hearts. The ocean of justice that needs to be done, of stories that need to be told, or the love that is ready to be manifested.
I feel you, I see you. Damn it, I also cry for me, for you!
Maybe you are now reading this letter and see that somebody really feels the heaviness of your heart. Women are taught to hide their ocean of feelings, to fill it with lists of objectives, tools, solutions, words of encouragement. When all we need as women is…PRESENCE and CONNECTION.
If you are carrying your heavy heart in secret, I feel and see you.
If you are showing up for anyone else, but feel your soul is split between highways of duties, I feel and see you.
Today, more than ever, I am writing to you from the same edge. A sort of fog that precedes a closure of some sorts.
It is particularly these weeks of August that precede the great autumn eclipses (in September) that forge within us the strength to be able to accept, not only to surpass life’s greatest lessons of this year.
We have built a world that rewards momentum. That decorates speed and achievement. But the soul always moves differently, in seasons, in tides, in breaths that do not match the ticking of a clock.
When the soul needs space to shift, it will slow everything else around it. NOW we’re seeing this more intensely in August.
The energy of the sky itself is like drawing its planets home. There is a different type of gravity in August. Saturn, the ancient sculptor of structure, adulthood and karma, has turned inward in Aries, as it needs us to question more the integrity of what we started to build this spring. Neptune, the soft (also delusional) dissolver of ego, reverses in the same sign, urging us to see where we mistook performance, purpose, courage, authenticity. Chiron, bearer of the inner wound and the wisdom within it, the Asteroid gravitating between the OLD (Saturn) and the NEW (Uranus) has joined both mentioned before, in the same archetypal Aries. 3 major principles of change are now even more intensely journey-ing in the archetype of the Ego. Feels like a portal of some sort into a new world we will be building more precisely starting the next spring.
Retrogrades are normal. They happen each year for all bigger planets. Retrogrades are not backwards (of course, it is not even correct in astronomy). They are circles, spirals more likely and definitely invitations to re-encounter ourselves at deeper layers.
August is an incubator, not an accelerator. Of potential energies and frequencies we want to build on for the next months and year. You may not feel expansive now. You may feel small, low, uncertain, disturbed or overwhelmed.
If you feel low, let yourself slow. Let your emotional landscape reveal its textures and your soul’s needs.
The smaller, personal planets are not static also. They just need you to pause a bit. Not by doing nothing. But by asking the good questions of the heart.
Especially with Mercury in Leo for its last days of retrograde, turn inward looking and let the heart more in control of the flow.
Venus, the keeper of tenderness and longing, has entered in Cancer. Us astrologers are very interested to look at the chart of the ingress of a planet in a sign, as it will speak a lot about the faith and intention of the journey. With Venus in Cancer ingress directly in a conversation of tension with Saturn and Neptune in Aries, the mission of the little benefic just turned more seriously karmic. Maybe now we can return more to our roots, to the parents, the family and the archetypes of stability and care that we were witnessing while we were growing up. The home within us now needs redefining. Venus will meet trickster Jupiter in Cancer around the middle of the month, giving a path that we can walk more steadily on if we want to mend the roots we have in this world.
The spiritual significance of home might just be a top frequency to get attuned to right now, in the weeks to follow.
This month is definitely packed. Retrogrades, Sirius Gate, Venus meeting Jupiter in a conjunction that has never happened since 2001, the Mercury Retrograde to Direct season, the Full (void) Moon and the New Moon preparing us for the autumn Eclipses.
This year is a corridor, a rite of passage. Souls part far from us, away. Those who are refusing to experience the next part of this existence and world. By the end of this year, none of us will be spared to let something go. To tie up the loose ends. To forgive because you need to also forget. This year’s completion energy needs you to learn to walk away gently.
For us living in a culture and systems of arrival, our souls need more return to oneself than ever. Maybe this is the main source of pain we will experience during this season (and this year) of transgression.
So if this letter of mine finds you low, slow, unsure, undone, may you know that you are also luminous, even here in the mess. That the light in you is just sitting deeper in the soil now, waiting for the right season to emerge.
I’ll be here. I am here. Not ahead of you, not behind. Somewhere on the same map, under the same sky, letting the same soft tide carry me inward. You give me the strength and meaning to carry on, to move forward. Writing this weekly and receiving all your messages keep me afloat in many turbulent times.
We are here because we chose to.
We just need to remember why we did that.
Until next week, Thank You!