Astro PSA: Virgo Season in a Pandemic

Isn’t it funny that Virgo season begins at the end of August, when most of us are at our absolute laziest? In fact, I’ve been so lazy that just crafting this post felt like more exertion than I could handle. But that’s exactly why we need this sign.

The hardest worker in the zodiac, Virgo can kick us into gear even when temperatures soar into the 90s and we’re in Month 6 of a pandemic. As a mutable sign, she’s hardly the OCD queen some claim her to be. It’s just that she understands Goddess is in the details, and that straight-ahead service and solicitude is at the backbone of every calling. Truly, she is the finest healer we have and admirably modest no matter how fabulous she may be. After the radical recharging—dare I say self-indulgence?—of Leo season, only the Maiden’s focus and fortitude can keep us fighting the good fight.

So I spent the day writing this, then cleaning up links and language on, and if that isn’t Virgo season work I don’t know what is. Because this sign isn’t about big, showy actions so much as the background business that is necessary to keep the world running smoothly. Virgo is the nurse of the zodiac, and we all know the best healers in hospitals are the nurses, not the rockstar surgeons. (Sorry, Meredith Grey.) Virgos attend to the smallest details to achieve the biggest changes. That’s why during this Virgo season we must register everyone to vote, inspect every polling booth, and nitpick at every official–not to mention the US postal service itself–to lay the necessary foundation for a fair election come Scorpio season. The ultimate Virgo message: Think globally, act locally. 

To refocus, recalibrate, and rev back into your own best service, book a reading; ‘tis the season! (Pictured in this video: Virgos—some admittedly controversial—whose labors of love have changed our lives.

Flaneuzy Days of Yore

I woke thinking about what I miss most about pre-Covid life. Every week it’s different but today I miss my old summer practice of slipping into movie theaters on Monday mornings to see the newest releases in delicious cool quiet surrounded only by other (cheap) cinephiles. I’d pay for one show, then sneak into another and then another and another before finally emerging into the still-sweltering early evening. Falling into step with all the other New Yorkers making their way to dinner and drinks and drama and doldrums–first by foot across town and then by ferry across the river and then again by foot up the Williamsburg hill. Floating in a blur of the films I’d just seen and the film of all the strangers with whom I was moving, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, all of us beautiful in our sweaty sullen noisy throng, framed by the rising steam and NYC skyline. O my god I miss the ordinary-extraordinary physical intimacy of anonymous city life.

On the Blessing of Paying Our Bills

Yes, you read that right. Because in this super-cruddy Covid economy, many of us are having trouble hitting our monthly nut. And I find that, even when we can, the ability to pay our bills is not something we regard as a blessing. Rather, bill-paying looms as a bore—a chore, even.

The truth? While end-stage capitalism often makes unreasonable demands of our resources, humans always have exchanged goods and services for some sort of capital. My point? That it’s wonderfully freeing to be able to pay our own way. That the right to a bank account and wages wasn’t granted to many until late in the last century. And that counting our blessings begets more blessings, because it sends the message to the universe that they are being received so there’s an effective channel through which to send more.

Bottom line? Next time you’re paying your dentist or Con-Ed or even Venmo-ing your pal for last night’s socially distanced dinner, remember to say (whisper, if you feel silly): Thank you, universe, for my ability to pay this bill. Even in this super-cruddy Covid economy, you just may be opening a door for more.

To schedule a reading for yourself or a loved one, book here. Art: dollar bill remixed by Jean-Michel Basquiat and Andy Warhol.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy