As we move into this Virgo season, let’s take advantage of the analytical energy of the times to take stock of what is happening right now. Astrologically, Virgo is the energy that transitions between the bright expressiveness of Leo and the calm equanimity of Libra. It’s a sign of adjustment, of adaptation, of discernment. I always think of Virgo as what helps us see what is actually in front of us in the here and now while holding a vision of what it could be — working with Virgo, we’re constantly nudging the imperfections of reality into something slightly closer to perfection. Relationally, Virgo season helps us stay authentically humble — not denying our own worth, but also not needing to inflate it. Finding a willingness to grow and learn, to name if something isn’t working and to start problem-solving about it.
This Virgo season blends some influences that promote clarity and commitment with others that might stir up a little extra drama (for full details check out my expanded horoscopes on Patreon!). Notably, Venus, planet of “yes please, just like that” will be scuffling with Pluto early in the month and then moving into Scorpio, Pluto’s sign on the 10th. When Venus moves into Scorpio, think good girl gone leather daddy. Scorpio is where we keep our secrets, especially around sex and fear and power. With Venus in Scorpio during Virgo season, there’s a lot of energy for figuring out our relationships and a tendency for us all to get a little extra intense about what we discover.
Intensity itself isn’t a bad thing. What really bites us is shame — when we can’t confront something in ourselves that we’re ashamed of, we tend to project it outward and turn it into something we blame or fear in others. So if you learn nothing else in this Virgoan, back-to-school month of sharpening pencils and choosing layered outfits, I encourage you to learn this: whatever you are ashamed of in yourself can become a weapon you use against others. And, of course, against yourself. So I invite you all to lean into this energy and treat it with the respect and curiosity it deserves. Let yourself be intense. Let your feelings be big. Be curious about what makes you you. Leave aside the urge to attack or blame anyone else right now, as good as it might feel. Prevent harm, by all means, do what you need to in defense of who and what you love. Just be suspicious of anything you condemn in others that you believe you don’t have in yourself.
For deeper insights into these times, you can check out my podcast and follow me on Patreon. And my books are open again to new clients, so go ahead and book a reading if you want personalized support navigating how to even be a human in times like these. Wishing you all love and courage and patience this month!
It’s okay to be intense about: Actually engaging with what scares you. Anxiety as a form of information. Change as a teacher. How easier it would be to run away and how you build strength by doing the hard thing. Not to mention to the joy, the deep transformative joy, of staying with the trouble until you watch it transform.
It’s okay to be intense about: How important it is to team up with someone you trust to make it through the tough times. The kind of radical self-love that can grant you enough courage to let yourself be completely seen and loved by a partner (romantic or of any kind). Choosing your friends and lovers wisely, with an understanding that some of the most beautiful hearts and minds you’ll meet may not be the right fit for meeting you where you need to be met. Releasing blame and releasing fear about saying no to what you don’t need and yes to what you do.
It’s okay to be intense about: What you need to do everyday to keep yourself whole, grounded, and ready to take on what the world throws at you. The preciousness of a daily walk, of a full meal, of a meditation practice or finding something that makes you laugh so hard you feel renewed. Finding joyous routines — which isn’t to say trying to enjoy things you “should” do every day, but rather taking seriously the need to experience joy regularly.
It’s okay to be intense about: The restorative and life-giving properties of flirtation, when properly performed. That warm, sparkly feeling of knowing you are special to someone, of being amazed by yourself and them. Leaning into the dorkiness of being freshly in love — with a human, with a vision, with the world. Holding this bright spot not as a way of hiding from all the shadows, but as a way of being able to keep facing them.
It’s okay to be intense about: How exhausted you are and how often you need to complain about it. The validity of what your heart and mind and body require. Your big, true feelings. Your loneliness. Your love. Your need to be recognized and cherished. Staying in conversation with your closest people about what matters most.
It’s okay to be intense about: Wanting to find the right language. A love of nuance and accuracy. Adding to and editing existing narratives as a form of love. Choosing words as carefully as a chef chooses ripe fruit. Enchanting the everyday with a kind of poetry. Letting this open some portals for talking about what’s underneath it all. Letting your mind and your conversations lead you where you’ve been afraid to go and are finally ready.
It’s okay to be intense about: Having what you need to thrive. Releasing shame about eating the foods that make you happy. Heaping your plate high. Keeping some energy, some time, some money, some plans in reserve for yourself. Not needing to share so much that you feel panicked about if you’ll still have enough. Gathering into yourself and actually deeply absorbing what nourishes you at the deepest levels — love, safety, inspiration, pleasure.
It’s okay to be intense about: Everything! Whatever you’re feeling most riled up about, don’t let shame block you from feeling the truth and the bigness of it. Let the secret shames and old old wounds air out in the bright sun. Risk loving knowing loss is not only possible but inevitable. Risk fighting knowing there’s no guarantee you’ll win. Let love deepen you into how much your being here matters.
It’s okay to be intense about: The need for retreat. Stealing away as much non-productive time as you can get away with. Redefining your worth based on your dreams, not your accomplishments. Believing in a better future. Letting your hopes be technicolor. Trusting your friends and lovers to keep learning alongside you. Not giving up, even when you don’t know the way forward.
It’s okay to be intense about: How much you want to change the world. How desperate it feels, here and now. The deep wish for complete collective liberation. The ache of wanting a future that seems unimaginable from where we stand. The necessity of working alongside good collaborators. The celebration of what we can accomplish together, despite it all.
It’s okay to be intense about: What you are here to offer to the world, and how deeply that rests on the hard experiences you’ve had. How relationships can expand or diminish your self-confidence. What support you need to be giving what you want to give more widely. How to step into your power as teacher, mentor, parent — as one who has learned much and still has more to learn. Needing to be seen in your competence. Needing to love yourself for more than your competence.
It’s okay to be intense about: Your hopes and dreams for a day when your friendships feel different — more intimate, more boundaried, more in-person, merely more. Your deep love for the courage, intelligence, and caring of those you love. Your aspirations to be part of an even larger world of brave, brilliant, and caring people. Your ability to expand into whatever shape you find, and the necessity of demanding shapes that permit the fullness of your being. Getting uncramped. Stretching out toward your future.