What I love about Gemini season is that when the going gets tough, Gemini gets curious. Gemini energy is acutely attuned to the world as it is, manages to stay light-hearted during hard times, and is always making surprising connections, sometimes thought-provoking and sometimes ridiculously funny. Gemini helps us laugh at what might have made us cry. It helps us shake off stagnation and depression. It turns up the music at the party, gathers everyone feeling socially awkward in the corners and invites them to dance. It’s pretty gorgeous that Pride Month begins in Gemini season, although the Stonewall Riots that originated this holiday happened in Cancer season at the end of June.
As we move from Gemini to Cancer this month, we move from our minds to our hearts. The first half of the month rewards social and intellectual activities, while the shift to Cancer season on Summer Solstice drops us back down into our deepest feelings. And though I am deeply a feelings witch and always want to be in the watery depths of it all, I’ve gotta give it up for all that Gemini offers us. As a mutable Air sign, it’s adaptable, clever, and invites us to reconsider what we thought we knew. Its goal is to see the extraordinary in the ordinary, to keep questioning the status quo, to stay one step ahead of tired old stories that can make the world feel like a stifling trap.
And damn if the world isn’t feeling mighty stale right now, with regressive social policies and authoritarianism once more on the rise. Pluto is dipping back into Capricorn right now, reminding us that there’s still more work to do to transform deeply entrenched systems of power — and those who see their power slipping are holding on tight. This Gemini season isn’t going to save us from everything that’s hard in the world, but it can help us see things through fresh eyes, and that can help us devise brilliant and unusual interventions. It can start by reminding us that the future is unwritten, and the present is stranger and more full of possibility that we usually notice.
This Gemini season, this Summer Solstice, this 54th anniversary of Stonewall, I encourage you to tap into the courage and genius of our queer ancestors who have found ways to, resist, adapt, and laugh at cultures that criminalized them. We’re carrying on that work as Uganda increases its already harsh criminalization of LGBTQ+ people, as US states try to legislate away the existence of trans kids, as corporations like Target and Bud Light yoink back their performative allyship in the face of conservative pressure. Pride Month is going to feel different this year for those of us in the US who have grown up seeing LGBTQ+ acceptance steadily growing. In the face of increased repression, its vital for us to keep showing up for each other. Our brilliance, our wit, our compassion, our collective care, our capacity to keep celebrating. You’re holding a necessary piece of this. What are you going to bring to the party?
I’ve got limited summer client hours so if you want a reading so please get in touch sooner rather than later! And as always you can follow me on Instagram or join me on Patreon for more trauma-informed, queer, liberation-oriented astrology.
What you’re bringing to the party: Fresh ideas. Dad jokes. A book you want to read aloud from. Your new friend who just moved to the neighborhood. A song you haven’t finished writing but will sing anyway. All your unanswered questions.
What you’re bringing to the party: Fresh fruit, flowers, and nice cheese (it can be vegan). Your capacity to make people feel at home (TBH you are probably hosting this party). Your memories, your story-keeping, the continuity you can weave between past, present, and future.
What you’re bringing to the party: You know how sometimes when you ask, “What can I bring?wp_poststhe host will answer “Just yourself!wp_postsSo, mostly that. But in bringing yourself you are bringing your insights, your curiosity, your history, your vulnerability, your aspirations, your sense of humor, and your keen interest in everyone you meet. These are pretty sweet gifts, so don’t be afraid to actually show up.
What you’re bringing to the party: The vibe. Your knack for knowing who wants to talk and who wants to be left alone. Permission to leave whenever you want to. Permission not to cook anything or do any emotional labor. Permission to talk to your favorite people in the kitchen and not meet anyone new if you’re not feeling it.
What you’re bringing to the party: Your crew. Your dreams of collective liberation. Your summer of 2023 dance mix. Your willingness to keep trying. Your plans for the next party. A circle of belonging that you create for yourself and fellow misfits.
What you’re bringing to the party: Your talent. Your lifetime of experience in being you. The unique ways you shine. Your capacity to be a resource for your community, and your understanding of when you’re done and can clock out.
What you’re bringing to the party: Your vision. Your big-picture analysis. Your hope for the future. Your deep convictions. Your storytelling prowess, especially your talent for bringing the unheard voices into any conversation.
What you’re bringing to the party: All the hot gossip, even and especially if you don’t share it. Condoms and dental dams. Safe words. Your deep knowing of how to transform an experience from something awkward to something intimate and affirming.
What you’re bringing to the party: Exactly what you said you would bring. Willingness to be the designated driver. A listening ear. Enough self-knowledge to say yes to what you really want to do and no to what you really don’t. Feeling ready to say yes to something big.
What you’re bringing to the party: Supplies. Behind-the-scenes organizing and logistics. Extra snacks. Somatic awareness. Consensual foot massages. Your capacity to make things happen.
What you’re bringing to the party: Costumes. Consensual glitter or, in certain scenarios, attack glitter. Your crush. Your unique style of flirtation. Enthusiasm. Your willingness to be seen and to belong.
What you’re bringing to the party: A safe space for introverts. Empathy. Ancestral healing. Excellent boundaries. Permission to go home early, or JOMO if you decide not to go at all.