We’re in the season where every day new plants burst into exuberant life, bright leaves popping on stately old trees as the sap rises. Aries season pulls us out of winter hibernation, and this particular month brings a different kind of hope. For some in the US and a handful of other countries, the vaccine rollout is offering a promise of increased movement, connection, and ease in the coming months. Many are daring to dream of an end to the painful separations that have marked the last thirteen months. For others across the world, that reality still seems distant. Meanwhile, the countless fractures and tragedies we’ve witnessed over the past year are far from healed. The world we could create in the aftermath of this crisis is one of the major astrological themes of this year. Meanwhile, we as a collective are learning to think of ourselves collectively, which begins with the capacity to hold both joy and grief at the same time instead of just turning inward and shutting down.
This year and the years to come call for dramatic reversals, renewals, and reimaginings of how we can all live on this earth together. This month stimulates our desires—Aries is a sign that wants what it wants, when it wants it. Can this inherently selfish impulse can be harnessed for the greater good? Aries is traditionally seen as self-centered, survival-oriented, and can be impatient. Sound familiar? A long crisis brings out that survival-oriented flavor Aries energy in all of us (if we’re in touch with our desires at all). This month, I invite you to welcome your impatience in and begin a conversation with it.
Impatience is always about how our desires clash with the limitations of reality. If we maintain the strength of our desires at all costs, we can act recklessly. I’m reminded of an acquaintance who got an STI diagnosis but had a hot date lined up that night, and wanted reassurance they could keep the date, have sex, and not disclose their infection (clearly we all said, no, of course not!). Impatience can lead to unethical behavior with bad consequences for more than just ourselves. There are reasons patience is praised as a virtue while impatience is something we try to restrain.
Sometimes impatience is vital and necessary—like when genocidal and soul-crushing systems have held power for several hundred years. When your actual survival and the survival of your loved ones is at stake. When the status quo is robbing future generations of a habitable planet. In this case, Aries energy offers us the revolutionary courage to upend the status quo and fight for a better world.
There are a handful of ideas floating around about what “a better world” might look like and many of them rely on paranoid conspiracy theories. Millions of people believe that a cabal of politicians are stealing eating children, which is a new spin on a very old anti-semitic conspiracy (just Google “blood libel”), and that white supremacist hero Donald Trump is some kind of messiah. And the astrology of this month is a bit of a powder keg. So notice what you’re scared of right now and what you’re willing to fight for, and ask yourself: Who do I consider my people? Am I willing to fight for a better world for people outside that circle? Or am I quick to see anyone who disagrees with me as a dangerous enemy? How do I know what kind of threat I’m facing? Where do I find evidence? Is there counter-evidence? What if more collaboration is possible? From global struggles to interpersonal tiffs, this is a month that’s bringing us face-to-face with our impatience, our fears, and how we use power. If you find yourself in a high-stakes struggle right now, be willing to look at your own beliefs, your own tactics, and your own shadow side.
Apart from the more thorny energies, this is also a month that can revitalize, re-energize, and motivate us all to pursue our desires. If you’ve been stuck in lockdown a long time, if you’re still stuck in lockdown, if you’re exhausted and emotionally shut down—do what you can this month to find your fire, to reconnect to your desire for the lusciousness of life. Aries is the sap of springtime, rising up through the frozen ground. Tap into your own life force, spend some time with your feet on the earth, remember that you are not alone.
This is a time we are living through, my friends! Reach out for a reading if you want to talk more about how to navigate it. And for more astro insight including a monthly podcast, join me on Patreon!
Find your fire: Trust that stirring in your heart that’s telling you where to find your next adventure. Trust your body’s need for movement. Trust that what you feel most passionate about is worth your full presence and attention. Trust that you are becoming who you need to be by noticing what you love. Move your body in ways that remind you of your power.
Find your fire: Welcome a slow simmer of warmth instead of a blazing fire. Trust that you have untapped reserves of energy, waiting for the right occasion. Trust that the changes you sorely need will happen, are already in process, even if you can’t see them yet. Trust your dreams, your fantasies, and your sources of inspiration. Trust that you can slow down when you need to. Welcome your body into this new season by moving in ways that reconnect you to joy.
Find your fire: Welcome your strong love for your community. Welcome a wider perspective. Trust that spark of inspiration that catches you and lights you up. Trust your most naïve and hopeful utopian desires. Trust that conflict can expose truths we need to hear. Trust that conflict can transform communities without breaking them. Trust that each voice in a group has something important to add. Welcome the desires, the loneliness, the grief lurking beneath the surface when conflict arises. Lean into the love that exists despite it all.
Find your fire: Welcome your future, yourself as an elder, the world you have helped to create. Trust your intuition about what will get you toward that desired world. Trust the wisdom of what you’ve learned from the worst year of your life (whether that was this past year or any other). Trust that you have the answers you need. Trust that you can lead others forward. Welcome the responsibility of standing in your own integrity, even when it would feel easier and safer to fold. Trust that you won’t be alone.
Find your fire: Welcome your aching longing to reconnect to a larger world. Welcome what connects you now, even imperfectly. Trust that you haven’t forgotten how to be inspired. Trust that there will be more stories to tell in the future. Trust that it’s better to feel heartbroken about the world than to fall out of love with the world. Welcome the part of you that knows what you do next, and watch them go.
Find your fire: Welcome the healing that comes with finally facing and releasing what hurts. Trust that trauma isn’t your whole story or your only story. Trust that your feelings can move through your body and leave you intact. Welcome what’s changing in your heart. Welcome the opportunity to really feel your grief—it ushers in the capacity to really feel your joy. Trust that intimacy has many beginnings and many endings, and that each ending is also a beginning.
Find your fire: Welcome conversations that dip deep below the surface. Trust the boundaries that keep you connected rather than enmeshed. Trust your choices, and trust you can make new choices if you’re no longer aligned with the old ones. Trust people when they show you who they are. Trust your instincts and your gut sense. Trust what someone who loves you loves about you. Welcome a new balance of self and other—not leaving yourself behind to stay on a team, not burning any bridges when you need to center yourself.
Find your fire: Welcome the messy imperfections and minor adjustments of real-life love. Trust what your body relaxes into, even if your mind is looking for reasons never to trust. Trust that you know how to heal if you get hurt again. Trust your instinct for noticing the details others miss. Trust your insights, especially when they point to imbalance of power. Trust that real devotion exists and is quiet, consistent, and matter of fact. Trust your distrust of showier, louder declarations. Welcome love that heals you quietly, consistently, and without a lot of fuss.
Find your fire: Welcome levity, laughter, and completely and joyously wasting your time. Trust your impulse to play, to flirt, to create, to take a break from anything and everything goal-oriented. Trust what helps you feel that special sense of wonder that reminds you of being a small child, curious about something. Unlearn cynicism for a little while. Trust that it’s okay to take a nap. Trust your desire to be seen, cherished, and validated. Welcome (and request) compliments, affection, and appreciation in all forms.
Find your fire: Welcome gentleness and slowness. Trust your desire to do less, to stay in, to root down, to find safety. Trust your impulse to plan and structure and stay busy, but direct all that energy toward your private world. Make your own comfort and pleasure as important as the work you do for the world. Trust your desire to be witnessed. Risk being witnessed. Trust that a little vulnerability won’t undo a lifetime of competence. Welcome tenderness. Welcome what will restore you.
Find your fire: Welcome a fresh perspective. Trust that the truth is stranger than you know. Trust that the world can surprise and delight you. Trust your desire to talk it out, to debate, to holler, to hum. Trust the words that come to you, even if they’re stranger than you expect. Let the familiar become new. Let your worldview expand to include the here and now. Welcome a way of seeing your life where you are one node in the center of a network where everyone else is their own center node, but you still get to be in your center.
Find your fire: Welcome a way forward. Trust that there’s solid ground beneath you. Trust your resilience, your resources, and your capacity to rest if you need to. Trust that you deserve what is reliable, sustainable, slow-growing, and trustworthy. Trust your sense of self-protection. Trust your readiness to connect. Welcome what you’re ready to claim and hold onto.