Astro PSA: A Firestarter of a New Moon
A true Aries goddess
Normally I recommend meditating during new moons rather than setting intentions or making wishes. Today’s new moon is a different story entirely. Taking place in fire-starter Aries, the same sign where we find the Sun, Mercury, Chiron, and Venus, today’s energy is all about initiation. The youngest sign of the Zodiac, Aries represents the first individuation from Source, the “I.” More to the point: “I want.” Aries encourages us to get in touch with our innate natures and completely trust our desires, so this is not a cerebral or celestial moment. This is a 2nd chakra moment—a “get down and dirty” moment. The question to ask: “What turns me on?” So take some tonight to stand outside or near a window and breathe into your lower chakras—abdomen, pelvis, even the soles of your feet. Then notice what floods you as the exhalation rushes through your body. These sensations and associations are the union of your personal desires and divine will, and are perfect charts of where and how to direct energy for the next four weeks. Sexy is as sexy does, my pretties.
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Aries Season Is Growing Season
Here in New York, this weekend’s weather promises to be cool and rainy—growing weather, my grandmother would have called it. These sort of weekends are ideal for the deep-root work that liberates us to bloom like the most fragrant peonies, the loveliest lilacs. In Aries Season, intuitive readings are led by our littlest selves— the parts of us who must be re-integrated into our daily lives if we’re to activate the practical magic that is our birthright. Some of these parts aren’t easy but it’s my honor as an intuitive to reflect how endearing they also are.
All nature is absolutely beautiful art and so are we.
Just Deserts Are Best Eaten With Fangs
This is a story of just deserts and middle age and I am not necessarily endorsing the role I play.
Just now I ran into a guy who was a real thorn in my side pre-Pandemic. He lives next door in what I call Melrose Place, an apartment building mostly populated by young, Italian-born guys who work at the cafe on the first floor. The man in question is actually three weeks older than me, though before the Plague it wasn’t evident from his demeanor.
He had recently left his wife, also our age, because–and this is a direct quote–“she did not make him feel like a man.” This man’s wife made most of the money in their relationship from her excellent art direction and so, upon leaving her, he had been serving espressos next door along with all the other cute boys because, yes, I regret to inform you that this man was quite cute. Handsome, actually, in that mournful, big-nosed, big-pawed way of some Italian men. In fact, I confess that when this man first began to serve coffee next door I found him undeniably attractive. Given my parentage, it is not surprising that I confuse intense self-pity for intense soulfulness in a certain sort of good-looking person. Continue Reading →