I hear a lot of astrologers looking at this new moon and talking of overwhelm, frustration, fatigue—even I have said that this burnout is real.

But what if that’s the point? What if we’re being prodded into action because things have gotten so bad, so out of control, so destructive that our very lives are at stake?

This isn’t an alarm; it’s a warning bell. The calls for help won’t stop sounding, no matter how many times we press snooze.

The Battle for Middle-earth

I just watched the Lord of the Rings (LOTR) trilogy for the first time, and it changed the way I will forever conceptualize the sign of Aries.

Before you protest—Do we really need more war analogies?—I hear you.

I hate how tech monsters like Peter Thiel and Palmer Luckey have tried to ruin Tolkien for everyone else. They’ve co-opted these beloved fantasies, naming their dystopian businesses—Palantir Technologies, Mithril Capital, and Anduril Industries—and perverting the idea of “fighting for the West.” What they’re doing, essentially, is using Tolkien as an excuse to exploit the world and make a few white men rich.

Do they not get that the Ring is a symbol for unchecked power that turns men into soulless zombies? Clearly, they lack the critical thinking skills needed to understand metaphor.

Anyway, hear me out.

The Aries Journey

The sign of Aries is divided into three ten-degree portions, or decans. While Aries is ruled by Mars, each of these smaller territories has its own ruler.

Today’s new moon is happening in the last decan of Aries. Hold onto that. It will make sense by the end of this.

Aries 1: The Thrust

Approximately 60% of the LOTR movies are people engaging in battle. Each of these struggles starts with a lot of nervousness and commences with one person shooting the first arrow before it’s GAME ON.

This is the Mars decan of Aries. You see the battle ahead, wondering if there’s still time to retreat back to your cutie hobbit hole, but before you have time to think about it, you’re thrust into action.

It’s too late. The fight starts as soon as we step into the battlefield of Aries.

Aries 2: Flowstate

This is the endless series of battle montages.

The Sun decan of Aries is where we see past the reality of oliphaunts and orcs coming at us from all directions to remember why we are fighting in the first place.

If the Mars decan is about mustering the courage to step into battle, the Sun’s decan is all about finding the energy to sustain your lifeforce—to make it through one more battle because Frodo and the future of Middle-earth are depending on you.

Aries 3: Bittersweet Victory

This is the bittersweet moment where you’ve won the battle but have to contend with the casualties on the battlefield—the fallen King Théoden of Rohan and the grief of the shield-maiden Éowyn.

In this decan ruled by Venus, one’s heart is simultaneously contending with victory and the loss of everything that’s been sacrificed for the win.

New Moon Moment

Here we are in the third decan of Aries. This new moon finds many of us tired, depleted. If you’re reading this, you’re still standing. Maybe you’ve won the battle, but there’s a whole war ahead.

Now, I realize the dangers of using war metaphors: there are many people in the middle of a literal battlefield right now, and I don’t want to make light of their situation. And again, I don’t want to create more fodder for loser tech bros to fetishize war.

At the same time, we’re all in the middle of a war: for the planet, for our humanity, and in a million other ways that are personal to you and your life.

This new moon isn’t bringing up anything new. The fight’s been happening whether or not we choose to take action.

And this quiet part of the new moon—this is the bittersweet moment where we’re forced to contend with the reality of everything we’re up against, and the losses of everything we’ve sacrificed.

Join The Astro Community

If you’re looking for a container to support this process of reflection and reset, Club Astro is where we do this work together.

We meet twice each month to explore the sky in real time and make sense of what is unfolding in our lives and in the collective.

Our next gathering is Thursday, April 23rd, at 7pm EDT / 4pm PDT.

If you are craving a rhythm of study, reflection, and conversation during this cycle, I would love to see you there.

Further Reading

“During one meal at Du-par’s, a diner where they had regularly met, Lynch flipped over a place mat and drew a map to help solidify the hazy contours of their magical town: which is, Frost says, what led to the show’s name. ‘As we talked through all the elements, we started to place where they were on a map as he sketched them,’ says Frost. ‘We didn’t have a name for the town, but we had these two mountains, White Tail and Blue Pine, on either side. And I said, ‘Well, why don’t we call it Twin Peaks?’ It hit us on the head like a two-by-four. We said, ‘Yeah, that works.’’ For both writers, the town was becoming real. ‘We knew where everything was, and it helped us decide what mood each place had, and what could happen there,’ said Lynch. ‘Then the characters just introduced themselves to us and walked into the story.’” (Scott Meslow, A Place Both Wonderful and Strange)

Twin Peaks, the unlikely child of TV veteran Mark Frost and film director David Lynch, made its debut on April 8th, 1990. It arrived under a Libra Full Moon, with the dragon’s nodes sprawling across the terrain of Leo and Aquarius.

I’m currently writing under the decimating light of another Libra Full Moon. The nodes will soon make their way back into Leo and Aquarius, having already kicked off the first eclipse in this new cycle’s territory. Astrology has a talent for bringing us back to the stories we need to hear: returning us to the hazy contours of our own maps.

More and more these days, I lean on my craft not to predict the future, but to investigate the past in service of the present. What voices, long silenced, wish to speak again, demanding to be heard.

Return to the Red Room

Less than a year ago, moved by my friend William Holloway’s interview with Mark Frost’s astrologer, Bill Herbst, I was inspired to sit down and watch all three seasons of Twin Peaks—and, of course, the movie, Fire Walk With Me.

I’m not alone in this obsession. In the wake of David Lynch’s death, screenings of Twin Peaks have popped up all over Los Angeles and beyond. According to the sky, this resurgence is right on time. But what lessons do these stories hold for us now?

A New Myth for Americana

A few weeks ago, I invited my dear friend, mentor, and astrologer-magician Micki Pellerano of Time Lord TV back on my podcast to discuss the astrology of Twin Peaks and explore the show’s current resurgence.

Or, perhaps more accurately, why this show has held its place in pop culture’s imagination for well over 30 years.

His response? This is the mythology we need:

“Harry Potter is a new myth, but it conforms to an old model: the orphan child who needs to be redirected to his magical birthright. Same with Game of Thrones: the bastard son, the exiled queen, the dynasty command over dragons. These are all mythological themes with which we’re familiar. But Twin Peaks is new in a way. It put forth into the public conversation a spiritual dimension: a whole new way of looking at alternate dimensions and this pantheon of good and evil beings that inhabit these realms. There are wormholes and enigmas around which these other dimensions weave in and out of mortal reality in our own time and place. There are purgatory waiting rooms, secret codes, the significance of owls, and the mystery of Major Briggs and the Log Lady. It does a masterful job of weaving these bizarre landscapes into mundane, normal Americana—and also indigenous. There’s nothing quite like Twin Peaks as far as a mythological model.”

Listen To The Conversation

Join The Astro Community

Club Astro is where we celebrate our shared language of astrology. Twice a month we gather for Office Hours to explore the current sky, look at our personal birth charts, and make sense of the terrain as it unfolds.

Our next office hours are Thursday, April 23rd, at 7pm EDT / 4pm PDT.

To join simply drop your email below and become a paid subcriber to this Substack!

Further Learning

I’m writing this from a hotel room, seventeen floors above the chaos of Midtown Manhattan. I should be finishing edits on my Twin Peaks podcast episode with Micki Pellerano Instead, I’m thinking about an old Joe Rogan interview with Neil deGrasse Tyson.

Before I lose you with two names that may elicit strong feelings, stick with me.

I only heard about the interview by catching a Threads post by an astrologer I admire. He had listened to the podcast and concluded that he wants to debate Mr. Tyson. I hunted down the interview expecting something greatly upsetting. Instead: nothing. Joe Rogan’s personality is naturally offensive to some (including myself), but that’s not the conversation we’re having.

On the contrary, I enjoyed the recording. I thought Mr. Tyson offered insights on a variety of topics. Astrology took up maybe fifteen minutes of a three-hour conversation.

What I can’t stop thinking about is why it bothers me when astrologers want to go head-to-head with scientists. Typically, the conversation starts by attempting to discredit material science (as in, “what do they know?”), and then concludes with the idea that these skeptics “don’t understand astrology.”

It’s the same binary thinking used against us to defend astrology: “you’re wrong, we’re right.”

This essay isn’t a critique of this particular astrologer’s comments. I have no idea what he might argue in his hypothetical debate. His post simply resonated with a growing internal feeling. Similarly, this isn’t a defense of astrology itself. Its lineage is far too ancient and vast to require my protection.

Instead, Mr. Tyson’s critiques, alongside one astrologer’s reaction to them, have prompted me to delve deeper into my personal motivations for studying this art.

Beyond the Binary

In this interview, Mr Tyson begins his critique of astrology in familiar ways. He highlights the shortcomings of horoscopes, the “absurdity” of Mercury retrograde sending people into a tizzy, and the discussion of why our bodies aren’t affected by the moon’s tides.

None of it’s original. But let’s face it: astrology doesn’t have the best PR campaign.

Whatever your take on the state of astrology, none of us can deny that the world has changed drastically since astronomy and astrology diverged. At one point, people consulted astrological charts for questions like, “Am I pregnant?” or “Will there be war?” We now have pregnancy tests and robust predictive models for almost everything.

Similarly, medicine—a branch of science once entwined with astrology—has seen immense advances in the past few hundred years, replacing decumbiture charts with diagnostic tools. While there is plenty of corruption in the industry, it’s a fact that many people live long and healthy lives without ever consulting the sky.

This isn’t to say they should live their lives without looking to the sky.

I’m not arguing that astrology isn’t a useful tool for prediction, or that medical astrologers don’t help their clients. (I personally consult a medical astrologer who’s also a medical practitioner.) What I am saying is this: if your worldview is binary—good/bad, yes/no, pass/fail—I can see why astrology might not make sense to you.

While I may disagree with Mr. Tyson, I acknowledge he’s a smart person who has devoted his life to studying the Universe’s laws. To say he could teach me a thing or two is an understatement. Furthermore, I acknowledge that some of his criticisms are valid: astrology is harmful when used to avoid accountability. The stars did not “make” you do it.

But is it our job to convert people? What if astrology just isn’t for everyone?

The Gift of the “Why”

As an astrophysicist, Mr Tyson comes from a field of science that can tell us a lot about how the universe works. What it cannot tell us is why the Universe works. And that’s where astrology comes in.

In my own life, astrology has proven invaluable for navigating mental and physical health. It has allowed me to foresee challenging periods in my life and those of my clients, helped me understand history through time cycles, and even once assisted in finding a missing necklace!

Yet, these results represent only one part of the story.

Each time we pause to interpret the sky's symbols, we grapple with what it means to be human. From a materialist perspective, the full moon may exert no physical effect on me. Yet, when I gaze skyward, see something of the world reflected in that fattening moon, I am engaging in a search for truth beyond quantification

A Hermetic Perspective

The astrologer has a way of framing this that’s been rattling around in my head. He suggests that astrology isn’t pseudo-scientific; instead, modern science is “pseudo-Hermetic.”

In Hermetic tradition, reality is a trinity. Caton explains, “the source of the physical world is Spiritual and there are three parts of anything physical: the material aspect or body, the animating force or soul, and the spirit or consciousness.” Yet, about four hundred years ago, Gary continues, “Science turned its back on soul and spirit,” insisting that only the material aspect of our world is real.

When we consider the progress of the material world in the last four centuries, science demonstrates immense success. However, in the realms of Soul and Spirit, its insights are profoundly limited. Psychology has attempted to reintroduce the Soul, but Spirit largely remains an unaddressed mystery.

What if our work isn’t about proving science wrong? What if astrology is a study for the initiates who are willing to look at the whole of reality?

Perhaps the most powerful thing we can do is express gratitude for receiving the call. We do that by devoting our lives to the nuances of this powerful art, rather than begging for the approval of those who have spent four hundred years learning how to see only a third of the sky.

Join The Astro Community

Club Astro is the container where we study the sky together in real time. Twice a month we gather for Office Hours to explore the current astrology, look at charts from the group, and make sense of the terrain as it unfolds. It’s less about prediction and more about practice: a place where questions are welcomed and the sky becomes a shared language.

The next office hours are Thursday, April 9th, at 7pm EDT / 4pm PDT.

To join simply drop your email below and become a paid subcriber to this Substack!

Further Learning

The most Aries thing I ever heard came from an acquaintance with an Aries sun who recounted this wild tale:

His cousin had recently moved into his house – the one he took out a mortgage for, mind you. (Seriously, keep that in mind.) Both of them have notoriously bad tempers, and one day they went at it. Over what? I honestly can’t recall, and I’m not sure he remembers either.

The argument escalated to the point where she locked herself in her room. His response? He stormed outside, poured gasoline on her AC window unit, and SET HIS OWN HOUSE ON FIRE.

After a moment of pure, fiery Aries passion, the gravity of the situation hit him, and he managed to put out the blaze. However, it was too late: his cousin’s boyfriend had already called the cops. They arrived quickly and arrested our fiery protagonist.

During the six months he spent in jail, his cousin and her boyfriend continued to live in his house, rent-free. When he was finally released, he genuinely couldn’t understand why she was still upset with him. His take? “You fight. You make up. What’s the big deal?”

Classic Aries: quick to anger, even quicker to forget.

Now, while I don’t anticipate any of you burning down houses (intentionally, at least!), I do want to remind everyone to take a few deep breaths. With Saturn (the ultimate buzzkill authority) currently in Aries, there might be extra harsh consequences for impulsive actions this season. You’ve been warned.

Thank you for your patience waiting for this very late newsletter, by the way! I was in Mexico City celebrating the spring equinox and my Aries birthday, blissfully away from my devices.

With that, I have two exciting events coming up — one in NYC and another in Los Angeles. Keep reading for the good details!

Yours,
Vivi

Los Angeles Astro Salon: Alchemical Astrology!

This month’s Los Angeles Astro Salon is for everyone interested in bringing some magic into their astrological practice!

I’m thrilled to be joined by William Kiesel of Ouroboros Press and 22 Teachings. William will delve into the heart of astrology, the Sun and Moon, through a fascinating alchemical lens.

• Where: The Philosophical Research Society, 3910 Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90027

• When: Tuesday, March 31st, 7 PM PDT

  Secure Your Spot

ART of the ZODIAC is Coming to Brooklyn!

I’m heading to NYC next week for some exciting pop-ups!

Astrology & Henna Evening with Lisa!
Join my dear friend Lisa and me for an evening celebrating two of my favorite things: astrology and henna!

• When: Thursday, April 2nd, 7pm-9pm

• Where: Cafe Calaca, 505 Franklin Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11238

• Format: Stop by for a quick reading and some henna!

• Cost: $65 for henna and tarot (walk-ins welcome!)

Intimate Astrology Readings at Spooksvilla!
Looking for a more personal session? I’ll be popping up at Spooksvilla in the East Village for astrology readings.

• When: Thursday, April 2nd, from 12-5 PM

• Where: Spooksvilla + Friends, 309 East 9th Street New York, NY 10003

• Appointment: I also have some availability for readings on Friday and Saturday. Reach out to set up a private appointment!

Book a 15-Minute Reading

Book a 30-Minute Reading

Join the Astro-Community!

Spaces are now open for Club Astro, my monthly membership. Enjoy perks like discounted tickets to the LA Astro Salon and LA Astro Fest, plus access to twice-monthly open calls. Bring your birth chart, ask personal questions, and connect with fellow seekers.

The next Office Hours are Thursday, April 9th, at 7pm EDT / 4 pm, PDT.

To join, simply become a paid subscriber for $18 a month. If you’re craving ongoing insights and community, I’d love to see you there.

Further Reading

As I write, the Moon closes into newness in its conjunction with the Pisces Sun. In just a few days, Mercury will make its direct station. This is a final declaration in this same watery territory, amplified by the ravenous dragon’s head.

A voice that began as a whisper is turning to a scream: ghosts begging for our attention.

I’ve spent a lot of time writing about Mercury’s retrograde cycle over the past few weeks, but the part I’ve failed to mention is the hauntings—the visiting spirits from past lives, arriving in dreams and in waking life.

Yesterday, out of the nowhere-blue of social media, a friend of my father’s reached out. My father had a Scorpio Sun. He was a man who carried a lot of pain and secrets, but who found joy near the end life in his retirement job driving a truck for PlayStation. On the road, he befriended a group of young gamers. They spent their off-hours trading inside jokes and exploring the local food scene in every new city.

That short period of time was the happiest I’d ever seen him, so hearing from one of these friends felt like a blessing. It was a punctuation mark on weeks of ceaseless dreaming about my father. Though he’s been gone twelve years, his voice only grows louder.

Usually, in my dreams, he’s, well—haunting me. He’s either just out of reach or chasing after me. It’s never pleasant. Until last night, when we finally caught up. In my dream I was back in the doctor’s office, receiving his cancer diagnosis, and for the first time, I was able to sit with the bigness of that pain and the depth of his loss without running away.

Upon waking, I did what any astrologer would do: I began to connect the dots.

The 6-Year Echo: Discovering the Whole of Your Story

If you listened to my most recent podcast with , you’d know that Mercury retrogrades occur in elemental cycles. Right now, we’re wrapping up a Mercury retrograde in Pisces, part of a watery cycle that will last through 2027.

Every six years, these cycles repeat. This means you can use Mercury’s frequent underworld journeys to tell a larger story over time, both individually and collectively.

Going into this retrograde, I knew the last Mercury retrograde in Pisces was March 2020, just before the world shut down for COVID. For me, that time marked the beginning of an insomnia and anxiety spiral that eventually landed me in therapy, working through my CPTSD and— surprise!—my father issues. It was the moment I realized how hardcore I had dissociated after his death.

But when I woke up this morning, I had a hunch that Mercury was trying to tell me something even deeper. I was correct.

It turns out the water cycle preceding the one in 2020 coincided exactly with the duration of my father’s sickness and eventual death in late 2013. The ghosts aren’t just visiting; they are following a map.

Mercury as Psychopomp: Carrying Us Home

Mercury is the Roman relative of the Greek god Hermes. He is the trickster, the philosopher, and the psychopomp. He is the one known for escorting souls into the Underworld, and for the unique ability to enter and exit it of his own accord.

Much like the lunar nodes, Mercury’s retrogrades move against the zodiacal grain. In the moment, each cycle can feel chaotic. Gary Caton describes these periods as the “churning of an ocean” where all the gunk comes to the surface, blinding us in the storm. Yet this, Gary reminds us, is “where the life is.” It’s messy, but it’s how we transform.

Twelve years after my father’s death, and after countless trips to the Underworld and back, I’m finally making peace with him. I’m learning that the “haunting” isn’t a threat. It’s an invitation to finish the conversation.

Whatever stories are being churned up for you, whatever ghosts are tugging at your sleeves or your dreams, I hope Mercury helps you find the clarity to finally wish them goodnight.

Take a breath. The water is clearing.

Find Your Story

Curious to explore your personal retrograde story? I have a few reading spots left for April. Club Astro Members: Scroll down for your discount code to book at the $175 supporter rate.

Book A Reading

Join the Astro-Community!

Spaces are now open for Club Astro, my monthly membership. Enjoy perks like discounted tickets to the LA Astro Salon and LA Astro Fest, plus access to twice-monthly open calls. Bring your birth chart, ask personal questions, and connect with fellow seekers.

The next Office Hours are Thursday, March 26th, at 7pm EDT / 4 pm, PDT.

To join, simply become a paid subscriber for $18 a month. If you’re craving ongoing insights and community, I’d love to see you there.

Further Learning

Read more

is an alchemist, skywatcher, and a leading intellectual force behind reshaping our collective understanding of the Mercury retrograde cycle. His groundbreaking book, Mercury Element Year, dives deep into this phenomenon.

Three to four times a year, Mercury appears to move backward in the sky. This is when magazine writers and meme creators go wild with travel advisories and tales of impending catastrophe. But here’s what’s really happening: Mercury is transitioning from an evening star to a morning star, ushering in a profound period of reflection, release, and regeneration.

In Mercury Element Year, Gary reveals how this cycle is part of a larger elemental pattern of retrogrades. These retrogrades occur in elemental clusters, with Mercury — much like the lunar nodes — gradually moving against the zodiacal grain over time. For one to two years, all retrogrades happen within a single element (fire, water, air, or earth) before transitioning to the next.

For instance, as I write this in March 2026, we are experiencing watery retrogrades, soon to transition into airy ones. In six to seven years from now, Mercury will have retrograded through all four elements. And over a 20-year span, Mercury will touch every decan of the Zodiac, alchemically transforming each and every one of us in the process.

It’s super powerful stuff.

The following interview is an excerpt from my conversation with Gary where we get into Mercury’s elemental year along with prophetic dreams, the time he stumbled into Project Hindsight and a lot of other goodness.

To say I learned a lot is an understatement; I hope Gary joins me for another chat soon!

Listen to the Full Podcast Now

On Prophetic Dreams

Vivi Henriette: You have this story about finding astrology through a dream about a Sun–Venus conjunction. Can we talk about that?

Gary P Caton: That moment probably remains the defining moment of my life. I had been through a very hard time—I see it now through the lens of alchemy as the middle stage of a transformation, where I had been through a dark night of the soul. That dream was like the white light at the end of the tunnel. I was just lying on my back in a field of green grass, and I realized I could look right at the sun. It was like this living being. And in the heart of the sun was the Venus glyph. I knew it was coming from someplace I trusted. So I got an ephemeris, looked up the positions of Venus and the Sun on that day—and they were conjunct.

Vh: So you started studying from there?

GPC: Yeah. I stayed up with that ephemeris by candlelight—literally, because I was living in a house with no electricity. I was the guy who was supposed to fix the house. So at night I had a candle and I’m flipping through the pages trying to make sense of it. I began journaling my experiences while watching the transits. I did that for a couple of years—just letting life teach me astrology.

On Wandering

Vh: You just come along these monks on the road and you’re like, “Yeah, I’ll join you.” And then from there someone’s like, “There’s some astrology down the street” —

GPC: Totally. That’s exactly what it was like. And that’s the way I lived my life at that time. I was absolutely peregrino.

Have you ever noticed how that term “peregrine” — in Spain, they call the people walking the Camino de Santiago “peregrino.” You’re a wanderer. You’re a pilgrim.

Vh: I never knew that. Everyone just thinks it’s the worst a planet can be. But there’s a sense of being really dependent on others, really vulnerable — which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

GPC: Yeah, but you’re also the most free. When you’re peregrine, you do what you want. You don’t have that duty toward the ruler. And that’s how I lived my life at that time. I was absolutely peregrino.

On Working With Mercury Retrograde

Vh: Learning that Mercury retrograde is an astrological period I can work with—that it’s a place where I can find magic and meaning—changed my entire outlook. It went from something passive to something I can collaborate with to have richness in my life.

GPC: That’s been a mission of mine. I was hearing stuff in the pop media that made me ashamed—not because astrology is bad or wrong, but because the fruits of my sacred science were turning rotten. There had to be a better way. My friend Laurie Naughtin said she reads my work to remember that astrology is a path toward awakening and transformation—not just a weather forecast.

Vh: How would you explain what’s going on during Mercury retrograde, both astronomically and symbolically?

GPC: If you watch ocean documentaries, most of the ocean is basically a desert. It’s where different currents come together—the warm and the cold—that force the water down and stir up nutrients from the bottom. That’s basically what’s happening in a retrograde: this stirring.

There are four astronomical realities shifting all at once—direct versus retrograde motion, above and below the ecliptic, the transition from evening sky to morning sky, and from superior to inferior conjunction. That’s why there’s this profound churning of reality. It can be very difficult. I get why people might want to hide from that. But that’s where the life is—where all the stuff is churning around. It’s messy and chaotic, but that’s life. And that’s how we transform.

Vh: What guidance do you give people for dealing with Mercury retrograde—these churning periods?

GPC: Understand that it’s a process, and there is a map. In the Rosarium Philosophorum, they say, “When the matter becomes black, rejoice—for this is the beginning of the work.” Breakdown precedes breakthrough. That’s just the way it works. Don’t freak out. Don’t even necessarily avoid it. It’s worth it to wrestle with these tides, with this churning—because that’s where transformation occurs. That’s where the future enters your life.

Join the Astro-Community!

Spaces are now open for Club Astro, my monthly membership. Enjoy perks like discounted tickets to the LA Astro Salon and LA Astro Fest, plus access to twice-monthly open calls. Bring your birth chart, ask personal questions, and connect with fellow seekers.

The next Office Hours are Thursday, March 26th, at 4 PM PT.

To join, simply become a paid subscriber for $18 a month. If you’re craving ongoing insights and community, I’d love to see you there.

About Gary

Gary P. Caton is a transdisciplinary Hermetic practitioner integrating diverse traditions, art forms and practices gathered over a full Saturn cycle, after being initiated as an astrologer by a magnificent Dream in 1993. Gary has published in many prominent journals and magazines since 2002, and is author of the Hermetica Triptycha book series on Mercury. Gary is also an accomplished counselor, teacher, podcaster, and photographer.

His book, Hermetica Triptycha: Elemental Ephemerides (1925-2050), is available at Rubedo Press.

For more insights and updates, follow right here on Substack! Listen to him on the Hermetic Astrology Podcast.

About Vivi

Vivi Henriette is an LA-based astrologer and tarot reader whose practice centers on storytelling, mythology, and collaborative divination. She creates a space for clients to reclaim their personal narratives through the lens of ancient archetypes. Vivi produces LA Astro Fest, hosts the Los Angeles Astro Salon, and is the creator of the podcast TalkTalkTalk. You can find her weekly writing on ritual and meaning right here on ART of the ZODIAC.

Further Learning

Hello Loves,

I’m having a crisis of prediction.

As an astrologer, I’ve often shied away from talking about future transits. It was a reaction to “fear-culture” and my own worry that someone might use my writing as a curse against themselves, the idea that the sky looks rough, therefore I’m going to have a bad day.

At the same time, astrology is a tool meant to guide us. It shows us the upcoming terrain so we can prepare for what we’d like to happen, or, more practically, to reduce the damage. We do this in our individual lives and in our communities.

This was highlighted recently by a participant in my “Astrology For Tarot Readers” container. Already a gifted reader, she is learning astrology to better guide her clients. This newsletter, and all future ones, is dedicated to her.

Below is a snapshot of the current sky, the upcoming terrain, and a few ways to join the conversation.

Do you like this new format? Do you hate it? Respond to this email or share a comment below. Your feedback is welcome, spicy, but not cruel, please.

Jupiter Direct in Cancer: The Great Blessing (Now!)

At long last, Jupiter has stationed direct in Cancer, the sign of its exaltation. This is a delight for everyone waiting on “big blessings,” but you know what? Being alive is the greatest blessing of all. And here you are!

Good things happen under “bad” astrology all the time. But please, don’t expect one planet to solve all your problems with quick miracle fixes when the rest of the sky is busted.

Mercury Retrograde: The Bad Trip (Now - March 20th)

Have you ever had an experience on psychedelics so intense and terrifying that it took you six months to get over the residual anxiety? I have. I also have natal Mercury in Pisces, so I speak with a certain authority when I say that this Mercury Retrograde in Pisces has been a “bad trip” for most of us.

While we’ve passed the turning point in Mercury’s cycle, Cazimi! Hooray! This final stretch is extra intense. This is where the belligerent drunks and fire-breathing dragons come out.

Be on the lookout for unhinged aggression and delusional anger. If that’s you, go for a run around the block or scream into a pillow. Whoever says “bad trips” don’t exist is an idiot; sometimes we have to face the dark stuff to let it go.

The good news? The psychic and emotional gunk being stirred up by this wrecking crew in Pisces is the last bit of an excavation that started over two and a half years ago.

New Moon in Pisces: Narrative Shifts (March 18th)

Finally, a moment of collective integration. The Moon dies and renews in Pisces, marking the beginning of a collection of new stories set to hatch six months from now under the Pisces Full Moon.

Blast Off Into Aries: Rest Up Now (March 20th)

Hermes, the heavenly messenger, stations direct just as the Sun moves into fiery Aries, ushering in the birth of a zodiacal new year.

If you, like me, have been overwhelmed by vibrant dreams and heavy insomnia this retrograde season, hearing the “alarm” is about to sound isn’t exactly what you want to hear. But here we are. Try to get some rest while you can. There is no snooze button in the sky. While this shift into Aries might bring clarity, it isn’t guaranteed to bring rationality, and it definitely won’t bring “chill.”

Our task is to temper the fire and to take care of each other.

Office Hours

Looking for support on your astro journey? Club Astro is where we do this work together.

We meet twice each month to explore the sky in real time and make sense of what’s unfolding in our lives and in the collective.

Our next gathering is Thursday, March 26 at 7pm EDT / 4pm PDT, over ZOOM.

To join, simply become a paid subscriber ($18 a month).

Los Angeles Astro Salon

This month’s in-person Los Angeles Astro Salon is for everyone who has ever looked to the sky in awe. Whether you’re a seasoned astrologer or simply astro-curious, this month’s salon is a celebration of the cosmos.

Join your host Vivi Henriette and very special guest William Kiesel, of Ouroboros Press, as they embark on a journey into the alchemical heart of astrology.

When: March 31, 2026

Where: Philosophical Research Society 3910 Los Feliz Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90027

Time: 7:00pm PDT

Get Your Tickets

“The future is a concept. The past is a memory. But the present is where the entire universe is happening.”

—

The most powerful magic is mastery over one’s mind.

That was one of the many takeaways from a recent lunch with William Kiesel of Ouroboros Press. He wasn’t talking about New Age optimism or the power of positive thought. He meant something much more disciplined.

The ability to fully inhabit the present moment. To distinguish between feeling, emotion, and intellect, so that one can make clear decisions about what to do next.

From that place, and this is my extrapolation, one can begin to shape the future.

In other words, yes, manifesting is real. But it begins with clarity.

The Sky Right Now

On February 25, Mercury stationed retrograde and began its descent toward the Underworld.

Much of the sky is speaking of release right now. Mercury retrograde and eclipse season are both powerful agents of transformation. They bring shifting plot-lines, changes in fortune, and, sometimes, literal endings.

Individually and collectively, it’s easy to become overwhelmed by grief and despair. And honestly, that response makes sense. The world is a lot to sit with.

But what happens when we stop to ask, “What stories am I telling myself?” And “Which of them are actually mine?”

Are we feeding our fears with sorrow, making an already difficult situation feel even more overwhelming?

Mercury Reset

On Saturday, March 7, Mercury enters the heart of the Sun. Astrologers call this moment a cazimi.

In mythic terms, Mercury passes through the solar fire. Its impurities burn away as it prepares to emerge again as the morning star.

We can treat this moment the same way.

A reset.

A chance to release the burdens and narratives that were never ours to carry in the first place.

This is astrology as collaboration.

The sky presents the rhythm. We decide how to respond.

An Invitation to Ritual

On Saturday morning, I will sit before my small travel altar. A candle. Some incense. A small offering of water.

Then I will write.

Pen to paper, not a screen. I will keep writing until the stories empty themselves out of my body. If I’m lucky, there will be a few deep sobs and perhaps even a guttural scream.

This is the turning point.

The old stories dissolve. New ones are born from conscious desire.

If you’re reading this, I invite you to do the same.

Reflection, Insight, Action

Every Mercury retrograde follows a similar arc.

Mercury begins visible in the evening sky, descending toward darkness. After its cazimi, it slowly returns as a morning star.

It’s a three-part meditation.

Reflection.

Insight.

Action.

The period between Mercury’s cazimi on March 7 and its station direct on March 20 offers a powerful window for dreaming forward.

Not frantic planning. Vision.

What do you want your life to look like next?

What are you ready to invite in?

“The Universe wants to play.”

—

If we listen closely, Mercury retrograde invites us to slow down, explore the depths of our own minds, and return with renewed clarity.

On March 20, Mercury stations direct in Pisces at the same moment that the Sun follows the Moon, Venus, and Saturn into Aries, ushering in both spring and the zodiacal new year.

By then, we will be rested. Clearer. Ready to meet the present moment.

Club Astro

If you’re looking for a container to support this process of reflection and reset, Club Astro is where we do this work together.

We meet twice each month to explore the sky in real time and make sense of what is unfolding in our lives and in the collective.

Our next gathering is Thursday, March 12 at 5 PM PT.

If you are craving a rhythm of study, reflection, and conversation during this cycle, I would love to see you there.

To join, simply become a paid subscriber ($18 a month).

Office Hours are a dedicated space for members to bring their charts, ask questions, and find clarity with a small cohort of seekers.

Members also enjoy access to workshops, discounts on in-person events (including the monthly Los Angeles Astro Salon and LA Astro Fest), and a consistent rhythm of conversation that extends beyond any single transit.

Further Study

Hello Loves,

I’m excited to share a new TalkTalkTalk with you!

This episode is brought to you courtesy of the great churning of the Milky Ocean and the unexpected delights—yes, delights!—of the eclipse portal. It’s always, or so it seems, during the dragon’s season that I’m drawn to one of my very first astrologer teachers, .

Early in my studies, I had the good fortune to travel to Mexico with Brett and a small cohort of fellow seekers to study the sky and absorb story, myth, and song from Brett and a few other brilliant teachers.

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to learn from Brett, you know he’s a master storyteller, and that every conversation with him turns into a journey.

This conversation is no different.

In this TalkTalkTalk, we get into the Saturn-Neptune conjunction, dreams, eclipse-lore, and journey to a lot of other places I can’t recall right now—because we were that in the moment.

It’s an honor to share my teacher with you.

Xo Vivi

Listen to the full Podcast

The following conversation is a selection of highlights from my podcast conversation with Gemini Brett.

On Dreams and the Saturn-Neptune Conjunction

Vivi Henriette: I’ve been having the craziest dreams lately.

Gemini Brett: You should be. We’re in the eclipse season right now, but the big news—one of the big stories of the year—is that this Saturn-Neptune conjunction is finally upon us. I’ve been tuning into that in every way I can. It feels like a new opportunity to explore the form of the formlessness. Saturn conjunct Neptune feels like this opportunity to understand the rules of the vision space. You know, Neptune is dream, vision, spirit, non-physical. And Saturn is form, structure, body, matter, reality. So to see them together, it feels like this new opportunity to build the form of our dreams.

Vivi Henriette: Can I offer you something I’ve been thinking about? I was thinking about Saturn as a spacecraft. When it reenters the earth, it’s subjected to so much heat and pressure that if the container isn’t strong enough, it’ll disintegrate. Thinking about Saturn in Aries that way—as a test to your shell.

Gemini Brett: So Saturn is the ceramic nose cap of the space shuttle. That’s a really cool and intriguing way to see it. And then this question of whether Saturn can handle the fire is an interesting one as well. I think you’re touching on something really profound about what it means to give form to the ethereal.

On Bridging Traditional and Modern Astrology

Vivi Henriette: You mentioned the dissolving—the Neptune word—of this rift between the traditional and the modern. In one way of seeing things, modern astrology is just an evolution. Since the Babylonian era, astrology has been constantly evolving itself. That’s how we get anywhere.

Gemini Brett: But so much of it was forgotten. The ceramic shuttle cone that can’t survive the reentry flame—so much of this was burned at the stake. A successful campaign to destroy astrology to the point where people forgot how long the year was.

his is really what the Hellenistic Revival was about, right? And so when that came back, a lot of the language changed, a lot of the terms changed. The Tropical Zodiac was reborn. One of my prayers is that this Saturn-Neptune conjunction might build bridges between those inclined towards traditional astrology and those towards the modern. I think this conjunction will likely begin a renaissance—more of an integration of the old and the new. It’s time to remember what was forgotten and see how it harmonizes with what has evolved.

Vivi Henriette: So much of what you taught me sky-wise really shaped my fundamental understanding of astrology. I’ll never forget—the twelfth house is where the sun rises. We always say it’s this crazy, difficult house, but it’s also that place where you’re sitting alone with your thoughts in the morning. You can’t see the forest for the trees.

Gemini Brett: For me, one of the gifts of modern astrology was that it was born in this psychological time—the Jungian archetypal dream space. Our craft is not just some language of symbols and rules. As I like to say, it’s the poetic breath of nature. So it can’t go away. But it did have, in a sense, to be dreamed anew. In the modern, archetypal approach, each sign is a book—these beautiful poetic dreamscape streams on the psychology of each sign. I feel like that’s actually a great gift of modern astrology. But we can’t forget the astronomy and the physical reality that grounds it all.

On the Astronomy of the Zero Aries Point

Vivi Henriette: We’ve been out in space in Pisces. We’ve done the whole twelve zodiac signs already, and here we are to begin again. We’re back in vulnerable Aries. There’s a sense of a return.

Gemini Brett: The Zero Aries Point, the Pisces-Aries cusp, is due east of the center of the Earth. Not of LA or New York—those are different things. Due east of the Earth’s center, which is where we measure planets and the signs from. That place we’re all connected, and therefore it works like a global ascendant. East is the place of new beginnings. And here we have Saturn coming to this place of beginnings every twenty-nine and a half years. Neptune getting there every 165 years. But for them to be together there—it’s been thousands of years since that happened. This is truly a rare and potent beginning.

Vivi Henriette: And that’s happening in the eclipse portal. We shouldn’t ignore that, right? The intensity of this conjunction is amplified by the eclipses.

Gemini Brett: Right. Ours is a study of wheels within wheels. The eclipse itself is so interesting because we have this truth of moon and sun appearing to be the same size in our sky—even though the moon is 400 times smaller than the sun by diameter, but 400 times closer to earth. We get these images of the alchemical marriage, which I think is so beautiful and important. It’s a moment of profound cosmic alignment and potent symbolism, reminding us of the union of opposites.

On Singing the Sun and the Twelfth House

Vivi Henriette: Thinking about something like Mercury retrograde—people are losing their minds, but it’s a phase change. It’s really beautiful. So much of what we have in astrology, if we can take it back to the astronomy, starts to have such a bigness to it. It moves beyond just a predictive chart and becomes a living, breathing experience.

Gemini Brett: I had an experience once on Haleakalā—the House of the Sun—in Maui. In Hawaii, they have a chant. They’ll sing to the sun at sunrise, and it starts when the light’s coming, before you can see the sun. They won’t finish until you can see the entire sun disk above the ground. It’s so powerful to experience. It’s also this kind of Saturn-Neptune thing—so much dream and vision and power in the chant, but it’s also tradition. It’s an old form. It’s the structured container for the boundless, sacred experience.

Vivi Henriette: I love that image. The blend of ancient ritual with a profound astronomical event.

Gemini Brett: I was up there one night and the sun rose, and I was like—oh yeah, that’s why ‘hidden things.’ Because the sun rises to illuminate the earth, but when he does, he hides the stars. By day, there’s only one star in your sky. It completely transforms the celestial landscape, showing us how perspective dictates what is revealed and what is concealed. It gives a whole new dimension to the “hiddenness” of the twelfth house.

On the Leo-Aquarius Axis

Vivi Henriette: Could you share what the Aquarius-Leo axis looks like? Thinking about it as two sides of one whole, can we talk about the differences—and what brings them into unity?

Gemini Brett: Aries is the spark that starts the fire—and that could rage out of control. But Leo’s here to fix the fire. You can’t have the beach party all night long, which Leo definitely wants. So we fix that flame, we feed it slowly, and that flame is you and me. It’s taking the fire from the heavens as Prometheus did and putting it in the hearth—really feeling that roaring flame and sharing it through our own radiance. Leo understands that personal warmth and expressive power are meant to be shared, not just consumed.

Vivi Henriette: And on the other side? What does that Aquarian energy bring to this axis?

Gemini Brett: Aquarius is the child of Libra. Libra is relational context, equality—and what does equality birth? Equanimity. In this adventure towards equality between you and me, we realize we should have equality for everyone. And Aquarius can blossom in that.

So when Leo is expressing that individual radiance, Aquarius provides the framework for that radiance to benefit the collective. But the true celebrity of Leo isn’t the one telling us to be like them—it’s the one reminding us it’s okay to be like me, because they’re not afraid to step into their own personal power. They inspire others to find their unique light.

On Dreaming and the Collective

Vivi Henriette: Where does the individual stand in the collective? Oftentimes when I’m dreaming, I feel like I’m connecting to something much greater than myself. I think part of the way a lot of us are reckoning with ‘Who am I? Where do I fall in this collective? Do I bring my heart to it?’ is through dreams —I think there’s a lot of work being done in the dream world.

Gemini Brett: Having that remembrance in the dream world that you’re connecting to something larger than you—whatever we want to call that—hopefully will be a reminder that that’s what the waking world is too. There are many dreaming traditions that say the waking space is the dream. When you dream at night, you’re remembering what you really are. Then you wake up and fall prey to this dream life of cars and things. It’s a profound shift in perspective, seeing our waking reality as a different kind of dream, with its own illusions and lessons.

Vivi Henriette: This is maybe too much of a confessional, but my dreams can be so vivid and intense. Sometimes I’m forced to look at things that are necessary that I don’t want to, and sometimes I’m afraid to fall asleep.

Gemini Brett: Here’s a Saturn-Neptune thing: it’s okay to make some boundaries around that. But we want to be careful not to say no to the magic, because it might be like dispelling Santa and you can never go back. You can state: ‘Tonight, my dream domain is allowed to go from here to there, and that’s it. Tonight I will not fly. Tonight I’m not okay with dreaming about the death and pain—and I will do that another time.’ I think it’s an important time for us to reclaim the power of: I get to make the rules for me. We have more agency over our inner worlds than we often realize.

On the Oasis: Having the Courage to Dream Again

Vivi Henriette: For people who have planets at early degrees of the cardinal signs, Saturn is going to come through first and then Neptune. What does that feel like?

Gemini Brett: The vision I received drumming about this was—you’re all alone, dying of thirst in the desert. These are gonna be your last steps. But just in that final decision that it’s time to lay down, you see that shimmer on the horizon. There’s an oasis. The question is, will you be courageous enough to take a sip? Because so many of us feel we’ve gained some kind of wisdom—our experience has taught us that’s not an oasis at all. It’s a mirage. Why should I just drink more sand? This conjunction offers a potential renewal, but it requires faith to step into it.

Vivi Henriette: That’s so powerful. What does that look like in practice, when you’re sitting with someone?

Gemini Brett: So many times in sessions, somebody will profess their wisdom around love—they’ve gotten smart, they’ve gotten wise, and love is just a place of use and abuse. And I’m like, ‘What did love used to be?’ And they’ll tell me about this beautiful dream. Getting past the statements of our scar tissue and back to the original vision—the times before we were burned—that feels like an opportunity for this conjunction to be a new beginning. Where we’re reminded that it’s okay to dream, but we don’t get attached to the dream. It’s okay to have a wish. Saturn provides the structure to hold the dream, and Neptune offers the vision.

Vivi Henriette: The beauty of Saturn is that it can protect us. It’s what yokes us, reminds us to wake up, brings us back to grounded reality. But sometimes we become too invested in that scar tissue—like, reality is too much, I’m cutting myself off from the dream world. But Neptune coming to a Saturn that’s getting broken down in the fires of Aries—it can allow us to, as you say, take that sip. It’s a chance for our hardened containers to soften and receive new inspiration.

Gemini Brett: Yeah. And by the way, I just can’t get over how you describe your dreams as vivid and your name is Vivi. It’s a beautiful synchronicity.

On Personal Agency and Stepping Into Power

Vivi Henriette: I was thinking about the eclipses and what it means that we’re transitioning into Leo-Aquarius. We have this reminder of both the call to connection and the power of individuality that is this Saturn-Neptune moment, and at the same time the south node moving into Leo. It feels like another conversation between hive-mind thinking and remembering the power of the individual.

Gemini Brett: I asked a question in class once: if Aquarius is power to the people, then who would keep us from stepping into that power? I was thinking we would open up into all the conspiracy rabbit holes. But instead, three people at once said, ‘Oh, we ourselves would.’ Because we’re afraid to step into our own personal power, or we’ve been programmed to be afraid of that. If I don’t think I have agency in my own life, then I’m begging. If I don’t think I can find my way to the river, then I need somebody to lead me there—or follow the herd. It’s a profound realization that the greatest barrier to collective empowerment might be individual disempowerment.

Join the Astro-Community!

Spaces are now open for Club Astro, my monthly membership. Enjoy perks like discounted tickets to the LA Astro Salon and LA Astro Fest, plus access to twice-monthly open calls. Bring your birth chart, ask personal questions, and connect with fellow seekers.

The next Office Hours are Thursday, March 12th, at 5 PM PT.

To join, simply become a paid subscriber for $18 a month. If you’re craving ongoing insights and community, I’d love to see you there.

About Gemini

Gemini Brett is a leader in the movement to re-nature astrology by integrating our two-dimensional charts with the infinite living sky. He is a world-renowned astronomy-for-astrologers authority, shamanic StarryTeller, and inspiring educator. Brett’s terrestrial translations of the celestial conversation, expressed through the ancient arts of sacred geometry, musical harmony, embodied astronomy, and number magic, activate seasoned sages as much as they initiate students new to the cosmic curriculum. Brett is the president of the San Francisco Bay Area chapter of NCGR and the winner of the 2020 OPA Orion Award for Outstanding Contribution to Astrology.

Find Brett, his School of Earthstrology, and the Constellations Community at: ⁠http://GeminiBrett.com⁠Learn more about his

Song of the Soul project with Erik Deutsch at: ⁠http://ChartSong.Com⁠

Join him and Ana Zahara each month for their monthly moon circle: ⁠https://www.anazaharia.com/events⁠

About Vivi

Vivi Henriette is an LA-based astrologer and tarot reader whose practice centers on storytelling, mythology, and collaborative divination. She creates a space for clients to reclaim their personal narratives through the lens of ancient archetypes. Vivi produces ⁠LA Astro Fest⁠, hosts the Los Angeles Astro Salon, and is the creator of the podcast ⁠TalkTalkTalk⁠.

FURTHER LEARNING

Hello Loves,

There are moments on my astrology path where I suddenly think I’m a crazy person, that the astro world is a cult, and I ask myself, “How did I even get here?”

My latest reckoning began with a Neil deGrasse Tyson rabbit hole. I went in trying to sharpen my astronomy skills and came out wondering: “What’s the point of astrology? What’s the point of any of this?”

I’m not the first to point out that science can be its own religion—and it can be a real bummer.

This isn’t anti-science rhetoric; it’s simply a plea for meaning. One can easily go mad seeing connections in everything, yet I choose to believe in a world infused with significance.

As I sat down to prepare notes for my upcoming course, Astrology for Tarot Readers, the same question kept resurfacing: “Why any of this?”

After a long internal debate, I landed somewhere steady. Astrology is scaffolding. It’s the structure upon which we hang our stories. It’s more than that, of course. But as a tool for meaning-making, it’s extraordinarily powerful. Whether or not it’s “true” is beside the point. Storytelling is a fundamental human need.

I learned this the hard way.

In my early years as an astrologer working in a psychic shop, I looked at tarot readers the way some astronomers look at astrologers: as phonies. My people memorized cycles and historical patterns to glimpse the future. These hacks shuffled a deck and suddenly had answers?

I was quickly humbled.

Clients would look at my computer screen and ask, “Where’re the pictures?” Yes, they actually asked for pictures. I was giving them planets; they wanted cards.

And that was how I started reading tarot.

Early humans looked to the sky, saw images, and told stories. Astrology was born from that instinct. It was never purely mathematical. It was symbolic. Narrative. Image-driven.

In the late nineteenth century, during astrology’s revival in the West, members of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn created a rigorous table of correspondences linking tarot and astrology. MacGregor Mathers anchored the Minor Arcana to the 36 decans of the zodiac, tying the cards to ancient segments of the sky already rich with sacred imagery.

Without venturing too far into historical terrain beyond my expertise, here’s my working thesis: Tarot is a gift to astrology. Like the discovery of the outer planets or the influence of depth psychology, it has expanded the dimensions of our craft.

When astrology becomes too abstract, tarot restores the image.

Astrology for Tarot Readers

Over the next six weeks, I’ll be exploring this intersection in my course, Astrology for Tarot Readers.

We’ll move through the building blocks of astrology—planets, signs, and houses—and map them onto the tarot in real time. Together, we’ll move beyond correspondence into the space of storytelling and lived experience to find our own symbolic fluency.

If you’re new to astrology, you’ll leave with a solid foundation. If you’re a seasoned practitioner, expect to leave with new allies and new language for your practice.

Class begins this Sunday, March 1, at 11 AM PT and is offered through Laetitia Cartomancy.

ENROLL HERE

Eclipse Special: One-on-One Readings

As the eclipse season unfolds, I’m offering a small number of focused eclipse readings at a reduced rate.

Eclipses tend to accelerate the narrative. They illuminate fault lines and bring conversations that have been simmering into the open. In these sessions, we’ll look at the house axis being activated in your chart and trace the deeper storyline that wants your attention now.

If you’re standing at a threshold, this is a powerful time to gain clarity.

BOOK YOUR ECLIPSE READING HERE

Club Astro

If you prefer to study the sky in community, Club Astro remains my favorite container. We meet twice a month to make sense of the terrain together. This is a dedicated space to bring your charts, ask questions, and find clarity alongside a small cohort of seekers.

Members also receive access to workshops, discounts on in-person events, and a steady rhythm of conversation that continues beyond any single transit.

The next Office Hours are Thursday, March 12th, at 5 PM PT. To join, simply become a paid subscriber ($18 a month). If you’re craving continuity rather than one-off insights, I’d love to see you there.

FURTHER READING

Greetings Loves,

On this day in 1989—February 24th, at 11:30 AM—Agent Dale Cooper first stepped into the fictional yet hauntingly real town of Twin Peaks. (I know this because it was the first news I received upon waking this morning via William Holloway.)

If you aren’t familiar with the show, stay with me for a moment. The timing here is more than just a cinematic milestone.

“This must be where pies go when they die.” — Dale Cooper

Thinking about Dale’s entrance gives me chills. I have the privilege (and the burden) of knowing how the story unravels. But as an astrologer, I also know that in that moment, Dale stood in the space between eclipses—inside the portal of the dragon’s lair.

Just as we do today.

The windows between eclipses are times of great reveals and narrative shifts—especially with a Mercury Retrograde soon in the mix! We see it in the headlines and, for some of us, in the massive uprooting of our own lives. Our collective and individual stories are shifting.

Upcoming Astro Support

Join me for Office Hours this Thursday, February 26th, at 5 PM. These bi-monthly Zoom sessions offer a dedicated space to bring your charts, ask questions, and make sense of the current terrain alongside a small cohort of seekers.

To join us, simply become a paid subscriber to this Substack (starting at $18/month). Your Club Astro membership includes:

• Bi-monthly Office Hours (Zoom)

• Secret invites and discounted readings/workshops

• A $10 discount code for my in-person Astro Salons

  Unlock Club Astro. Subscribe for instant access to monthly office hours, member discounts, secret invites, and more.

Mapping the Story

If you’d like one-on-one guidance navigating this season’s terrain, I’m offering a limited number of specially priced readings where we can map out your personal eclipse story together.

Secure Your Reading

Tonight in Los Angeles

I look forward to seeing many of you tonight at the Philosophical Research Society for the Los Angeles Astro Salon. I’ll be joined by Vedic Astrologer Chris van der Walt to discuss the Planetary Ages of Maturation.

A Note on Accessibility: If you want to attend Office Hours or the Salon but truly can’t afford the expense right now, drop me a line. I’ll make sure you have a spot.

Questions? Thoughts? Feedback? Send me a note. I’m here for all of it.

Yours,

Vivi

Further Listening

“The nodes are wormholes into these parallel existences. There’s the capacity for holiness and renunciation with Ketu, but also for depravity with Rahu.”

— Micki Pellerano, Time Lord TV

Hello Loves,

As eclipse season shifts from the Virgo/Pisces axis into Leo and Aquarius, I wanted to share something special.

The above audio clip is an unreleased selection from my TalkTalkTalk with Micki Pellerano on the Lunar Nodes.

For my astro-newbies, eclipses always follow the Nodes of the Moon. In this conversation, you will hear the North Node referred to as Rahu, the head of the dragon, and the South Node as Ketu, the tail.

These names come from the Vedic tradition and the myth of the churning of the Milky Ocean, where a dragon is severed in two. The head and the tail remain eternally hungry, forever chasing the Sun and Moon. It is why eclipses are sometimes called dragon holes, portals where we convene with the severed dragon.

The nodes move counter to the rest of the zodiac, completing a full cycle every 18.5 years. Their rhythm is strange, recursive, and deeply mythic.

Which brings us to Twin Peaks.

The cult classic premiered on April 8, 1990, while the nodes were in Leo and Aquarius. Twenty-seven years later, exactly one and a half nodal cycles later, Twin Peaks: The Return debuted after nearly three decades of silence.

Now, as the eclipses shift back into this exact region of the sky, the show is resurfacing in the public imagination, with screenings popping up across Los Angeles.

The dragon’s head turns back toward Leo and Aquarius.

So I have to ask—

What is returning now?
What unfinished story is resurfacing?

Explore Your Eclipse Story

If you are feeling the heat of this shift, I am offering a limited number of discounted eclipse readings.

Eclipses activate a specific house axis in your chart. They tend to coincide with fated meetings, abrupt endings, course corrections, and revelations that refuse to stay buried. They expose the storyline that has been quietly developing beneath the surface.

In a focused session, we will look at where Leo and Aquarius fall in your chart, what themes are being stirred, and how this current eclipse season connects to past turning points in your life. The goal is not prediction for prediction’s sake, but clarity about the narrative that is unfolding.

These spots are limited and offered at a reduced rate for the season.

Book Your Reading

Are You in Los Angeles?

Our next LA Astro Salon is coming up, and this eclipse cycle will be part of the terrain we explore together in real time.

We gather not just to forecast, but to contextualize. To tell stories. To make sense of what is surfacing under these dragon skies.

Club Astro members receive a $10 discount code for the Astro Salon. Your membership is meant to extend beyond Zoom, offering tangible perks for showing up in person and deepening your engagement with the community.

Get Your Tickets

Astro members, you can find your discount code in your inbox.

Not in LA?

Join from anywhere in the world for Office Hours: an intimate, community-driven space to discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices. These conversational gatherings are a direct way to connect with me and fellow curious minds as we build knowledge and community together.

Office Hours are held online twice a month and are exclusive to Club Astro members.

The next session is today, Thursday, February 26th, at 5pm PT.

How to join: A paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC grants you full access to Club Astro and all its perks, including office hours, discounted readings, and secret invites.

Further Reading:

Hello Loves,

If this newsletter looks different, it’s because I’m slowly transitioning from Mailchimp to Substack. Other than cosmetic differences, this shouldn’t mean any changes for you.

With that out of the way, I’m going to skip the announcements and get straight to the good parts: the new podcast episode!

Last week I sat down with astrologer Chris van der Walt to discuss a Vedic technique called the Ages of Maturation. If you’re new to astrology, this is a tool you can hit the ground running with. And for advanced practitioners, it will add new layers of depth to your readings.

The concept is simple: every planet has a specific year in which it matures. Starting the year before that age, the planet begins to bloom, marking a period where its full expression comes into play.

For example, Venus matures at age 25. For someone with a prominent 10th-house Venus, we’d expect that energy to make itself heard in the public sector of their life between the ages of 24 and 25. Think: job promotions, career shifts, or significant changes in reputation.

Similarly, once a planet reaches maturation, we can expect full mastery over its themes. This is why we often say Saturn becomes easier after its maturation at age 36.

So elegant! So powerful!

During our conversation, Chris and I go over each of the planets, their themes, and their year of maturation, sharing stories from our own lives.

I’m sharing an excerpt from that conversation below, along with a list of ages, so you can walk through your own timeline and see how the planets show up for you.

If you’d like one-on-one guidance, I’m offering a limited number of specially priced readings where we can map out your planetary story together.

Book Your Reading

Are you in Los Angeles? Chris is my guest for the upcoming Los Angeles Astro Salon at the Philosophical Research Society on Tuesday, February 24th. We’ll be exploring the Years of Maturation along with a few other accessible techniques, then opening up the room for your stories.

Can’t make it in person? No problem! We’ll be recording the session.

Listen to the Full Podcast

The following excerpts have been edited and condensed from the original interview.

Jupiter at 16: The Heretic’s Award

Chris: Jupiter’s associated with reproduction — most people hit reproductive maturity around 16. It also rules philosophical understanding, higher wisdom, and your moral framework. I was brought up Catholic, going to a Jesuit college. Up until that point I’d been really wrestling with my faith. That year I decided I was an atheist. But at the end of the year, I was given the religious award for my class. I have Jupiter on my Aquarius ascendant — it’s my 11th Lord, and the 11th is the house of awards. I was quite embarrassed to get that award. Aquarius is associated with heretics and outsiders.

Sun at 21: The Father and the Self

Chris: The sun is the manifestation of how the divine wants to express itself in your life. It’s also the king of the chart — where we start to feel ambition for what we want to create, what legacy we want to leave. I have Ketu conjunct my sun in Cancer in the sixth house — the house of divorce. When I was 21, my parents were going through a divorce. My father actually came to me and asked whether he should leave my mother, because he said he had no friends to talk to. Part of my sun maturation was losing a lot of respect for my father. Your karma expresses itself through the personalities of your parents, and there’s not much you can do about that.

Moon at 24: Where You Feel at Home

Chris: Moon is how we create intimacy, how receptive we are to others, and how things grow in our life. It’s also very much about where we feel at home. I grew up in South Africa and left when I was five or six. At 24, I went back to Cape Town and was completely overwhelmed by this feeling of being home — realizing that part of me had been missing it the whole time, and I had just learned how to turn that off. That’s very much a Moon-Ketu experience, because moon is also where you feel at home.

Venus at 25: Worth and Disruption

Chris: Venus is how we value things — and ourselves. An afflicted Venus tends toward low self-worth, which is why people get into destructive relationships. I was living a very strict spiritual life and was celibate. I have Venus in the sixth house conjunct Ketu — the sixth is the house of celibacy, and Ketu takes things away. I was working in London at a meditation center, completely oblivious that someone there had developed a crush on me. My guru asked me to attend meditations in Oxford for a few months instead — so every Wednesday and Sunday I was spending three hours round-trip on a train. Venus is my ninth lord. It expressed all the weird things about my Venus.

Mars at 28: Swimming to France

Chris: Mars is the warrior — how we fight for things, protect what we have, develop skills. It’s also courage. I have Mars in Aries in the third house. That year I swam from England to France. It was the scariest thing I could think of doing. I trained for six months. The swim itself took 13 hours and 21 minutes. Most days in Dover I couldn’t even see France — just an endless ocean. When I achieved it, it radically changed the way I thought about my will and my ability to endure things. Before that I always thought I wasn’t very disciplined. Mars tells you what you need; the moon tells you what you need, and Mars goes out and gets it.

Mercury at 32: Peak Competence

Chris: Mercury is how we communicate, evaluate the pros and cons, and manage our time. You can think of it as a kind of executive function. The Mercury maturation is where you reach peak competence with Mercury. It tends to be subtle unless you have a very prominent placement. It’s sandwiched between two heavy events — the Saturn return and the Saturn maturation — and Mercury isn’t a loud planet. Most clients I’ve spoken to don’t have an amazing Mercury story. It’s more like a litmus test on your competence.

Saturn at 36: The Full Backpack

Chris: Saturn matures at 36, and it’s usually a non-trivial event. Until you turn 36, you haven’t had to pick up the full backpack of your heavy karma. Saturn gives by taking things away. That year I left my spiritual community after 13 or 14 years. My guru had passed, I’d ended up in a relationship, there was a pregnancy that miscarried, and then someone I’d confided in used that to have me exiled from the meditation center. Saturn is in my fifth house, aspecting the 11th — community — and my ascendant. I basically started my life over at 36. Jung said you’re not really an adult until 36, and when I first heard about this technique, I thought: that’s interesting that he tweaked to that.

Rahu at 42: Into the Jungle

Chris: Rahu represents unfulfilled desire, craving, the feeling of incompetence in a house we need to develop. Whatever security we’ve built around the Ketu placement can start to feel like a prison, or it can collapse — and we’re forced out into the jungle. My Rahu is in Capricorn. I had been living monastically for years, never thinking about money. Then suddenly I was married, running a tech company, thinking about having children. I had to step up my Capricorn game and start getting a grip on the material side of my life — starting way behind, because I’d spent decades prioritizing inner state over outer conditions. Rahu is an innovator. The key is accepting that you’re going to make mistakes in that house; that’s not failure, it’s the process.

Ketu at 48: The Conscious Return

Chris: Ketu is the subtlest maturation. It’s not characterized by outer events — it’s an inner realignment. As a child, you create a security paradigm unconsciously, trying to make yourself as small a target as possible. When you return to Ketu at 48, you’re doing it consciously. For me it was during COVID lockdown in Sydney. Every day I was walking on the beach, listening to mantra, and I just started feeling this incredible peace — an acceptance of everything. Part of that was accepting that having roots in a physical place maybe wasn’t on the cards for me. Home is internal. The Ketu maturation is about accepting your imperfections and recognizing that life is already perfect — just not in the way you expected.

Did you enjoy this conversation? Do you wanna talk talk talk about it with other astrologers?

Join me for Office Hours: an intimate, community-driven space to discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices. These conversational gatherings are a direct way to connect with me and fellow curious minds as we build knowledge and community together.

Office Hours are held online twice a month and are exclusive to Club Astro members.

The next session is today, Thursday, February 26th, at 5pm PT.

How to join: A paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC grants you full access to Club Astro and all its perks, including office hours, discounted readings, and secret invites.

About Chris

Chris Van de Walt is an LA-based Vedic astrologer and his approach focuses on understanding the unique karmas expressed in each client’s chart, how these patterns manifest in their lives and then collaborates with them to support their growth and fulfilment. He has studied with astrologers Ernst Wilhelm, Ryan Kurczak and Freedom Cole and has been longtime practitioner of meditation under the guidance of his Guru, Sri Chinmoy.

Visit his Website, Core Astrology.

About Vivi

Vivi Henriette is an LA-based astrologer and tarot reader whose practice centers on storytelling, mythology, and collaborative divination. She creates a space for clients to reclaim their personal narratives through the lens of ancient archetypes. Vivi produces⁠LA Astro Fest,⁠ hosts the Los Angeles Astro Salon, and creator of the podcast⁠TALK TALK TALK⁠. You can find her weekly writing on ritual and meaning at her Substack,⁠ART of the ZODIAC⁠.

Further Reading

I don’t want to keep talking about myself or my dead parents, but Saturn is crossing my Sun at zero degrees Aries, so all this fuss about the Saturn-Neptune conjunction feels extra personal.

While I’m won’t get into the weeds of what this transit means for my specific chart, I will offer a personal narrative that contains a universal lesson.

My father died during my Saturn return in Scorpio after an unexpected and far too short bout with cancer. It was, as you might imagine, a dark and melancholy period. The aftermath of his death was as complicated as our relationship. I found myself grieving the loss of a man who had once been my primary caretaker, but who was also extremely psychologically abusive.

The bright side, if there is ever truly a bright side, was that his death brought me closer to my mother.

She was a woman who left when I was ten. Her vices and our collective pain had prevented us from ever fulling knowing each other, despite her taking every opportunity to remind me, “We’re the only family we have left.”

Honestly, I thought she would live forever. Not because her lifestyle suggested it, but despite it. I come from a long line of heavy drinkers who all lived well into old age because, I am convinced, the alcohol eventually pickled their bodies.

Her death was shocking and astrologically perfect. She passed as Venus crossed my descendant and the Lord of Time stepped in to make his final square to my Moon, the sky’s symbol for body and mother.

In the span of Saturn’s watery trine, the two people who cared for me the most and caused me the most pain have died. The two people who made me have left this world.

If we’re lucky to live long enough, all of us will experience the death of those we love, even if that love is thorny. Biological parents, caretakers, mentors, partners—friends who supported and uplifted.

Eventually, Saturn comes for all of them. Including ourselves.

Astrologers often speak of Saturn as responsibility, burden, gravity. And yet it’s also Saturn’s sickle that clears the field. The cosmic composter, if you will.

When I look back at early memories of me and my parents, it’s haunting to realize I’m the last survivor. Sitting with those impressions now, I find I’m no longer angry at them or myself. The old traumas have faded into ghosts I can finally bid farewell to.

In the two and a half years since Saturn entered Pisces, I have done a great deal of sitting with my feelings. I have made peace with my inheritance.

The last time I saw my mother, she was surprisingly open. She shared stories of my mémé’s childhood in Paris and sent me home with old photographs, including one of her as a teenager. I placed it on my bookshelf when I returned to Los Angeles.

That visit, like every visit over the past two years, ended with her telling me to “make a list of the things you want to take out of here when I die.” She was leaving her house, which had been her mother’s house, to her husband’s nephew because “it’s obvious you’re not moving back to Detroit.”

“Don’t worry,” she threatened, “I’m not dying soon. I have at least 20 years left.”

“In that case, could I have this piggy bank?” It was one of two pieces of pottery she made in a high school ceramics class. The beginning and end of her art career, as far as I know.

“No,” she quickly retorted. “I like it too. You can have it when I’m dead.”

Blast Off

When a spacecraft reenters the atmosphere, it’s subjected to enormous pressure and heat. If not properly fortified, it breaks apart during the descent.

With Saturn’s move into Aries, the fiery beginning of the zodiac, we are asked to undergo a similar passage. The last droplets of Pisces evaporate. What was watery becomes combustible.

For me, this marks the beginning of a phase where I’m truly going at it alone, walking for the first time without the two people who ushered me into this world.

Whether or not you’ve lost your parents, we’re all leaving stories behind. Structures are being tested. We’re being called into courage and independence.

When my mother died, I took the ceramic piggy bank from her house. I wrapped it in piles of clothes and buried in my suitcase for the trip back to California.

When I opened it in Los Angeles, I found it had cracked clean in half during the journey.

And I celebrated the blessing.

The old breaks so that the new can be born.

Looking to explore your own Saturn in Aries story?

Join me for Office Hours: an intimate, community-driven space to discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices. These conversational gatherings are a direct way to connect with me and fellow curious minds as we build knowledge and community together.

Office Hours are held online twice a month and are exclusive to Club Astro members.

The next session is today, Thursday, February 26th, at 5pm PT.

How to join:
A paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC grants you full access to Club Astro and all its perks, including office hours, discounted readings, and secret invites.

FURTHER READING

went from digital brand strategist to full-time astrologer overnight after what he describes as a “freak concussion.” In less time than it takes to complete most foundational courses, he has propelled himself into a TikTok and entertainment sensation, with his work featured everywhere from The Economist and E! News to People Magazine.

I have a confession: I was not a fan when I first encountered him. I was at Dynasty Typewriter when his face popped up on the screen promoting an upcoming night of readings, and I immediately recoiled.

Was it jealousy at his social media fame that sparked my ire? Perhaps. I’m one of those crusty snobs who believes that astrology is a nuanced, one-on-one affair, and I’m inherently distrustful of anyone who makes their bread and butter announcing the daily transits. And, if I’m honest, my own fear of going on camera makes me distrustful of anyone who spends their time in front of one.

But when I finally had the opportunity to meet Evan, I was proven wrong — humbled even — and reminded of a fact I’m often quick to forget: sometimes things are popular because they’re good.

It turns out Evan is a damn fine astrologer. He’s well-researched, authentically magnetic, and possesses a rare talent for connecting with people. He’s also been blessed with a psychic touch that gives his predictions an eerie level of accuracy. It’s not an exaggeration to say that he has forced me to reframe my definition of “good” astrology.

At the end of 2025, he graciously made time to speak at the Los Angeles Astro Salon. We discussed his personal story and the year ahead. Unfortunately, before I could release the episode, life happened—and here we are. We’re now in the early stretches of February 2026, and so far, Evan’s assessment of the year is right on.

Fortunately, much of our talk is evergreen, making this a recording I see myself returning to often over the coming years.

What follows is an excerpt from that conversation, recorded at the Philosophical Research Society on Tuesday, December 16th, as part of my monthly Los Angeles Astro Salon.

If you’re in Los Angeles, join us in person on the fourth Tuesday of each month, where I’m joined by a new guest to share stories and talk astrology.

Listen To The Full Episode

The following has been condensed and edited for print.

The Concussion & The Calling

Vivi Henriette: You have a really interesting story. You’ve talked about coming to astrology following a concussion—could you tell us how that happened?

Evan Nathaniel Grim: It truly found me; I wasn’t looking for it. In 2019, I was working in New York City in data analytics and marketing strategy for luxury brands like Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Astrology was mostly just the joke you’d throw around—the idea that twelve signs meant twelve personalities seemed shallow to me.

Then, I had a freak accident at a nightclub called the Pyramid Club. I was laughing so hard that I keeled over; I threw my head back just as a friend was leaning down. The back of my head hit his eyebrow ridge—the hardest part of the face. It felt like a golf ball hit me from a hundred yards away. Shortly after, while still hazy from the injury, I walked into a shop and a piece of Labradorite started “screaming” my name. The clerk told me Scorpios were often drawn to it. I’m a Scorpio, but I figured the odds were just one in twelve. However, as my head cleared, I started having these strange, extrasensory connections with nature—specifically a tree by the East River that I felt compelled to meditate in front of every day. That was the catalyst.

The Corporate Anchor

Vivi Henriette: I’m curious if your background in corporate America was actually a secret form of training—a way to ground you. You have the ability to access these really distant places, but you’re also very grounded, whereas you meet some people in this field and you feel like they’ve just “left the planet.” Was that an important part of your journey?

Evan Nathaniel Grim: I have a “boss upstairs” for sure—my Capricorn Saturn and Scorpio stellium. It is a blessing and a curse. When I was at Northwestern University, I felt the pressure to go to McKinsey or Goldman Sachs. I actually had an “ego death” in 2012, but my Saturn told me to get a practical job and just “do the thing.”

When I finally announced to my corporate office over Zoom that I was an astrologer, it was freeing, but that background still drives me. I see the summit I’m working toward, and I enjoy the process of walking there. For Capricorn placements, we want to have that plan. I have to catch myself sometimes because I’ve found a rhythm online, but that “corporate” side of me ensures I don’t stay completely untethered.

Sheet Music of the Soul

Vivi Henriette: In Geoffrey Cornelius’s book The Moment of Astrology, he talks about a “moment” that happens between the reader and the client where something else—something psychic—takes over. It sounds like you’re really good at tapping into that. Can you tell me more about how you use degrees and intuition in your readings?

Evan Nathaniel Grim: I consider myself a psychic, and that instinct is probably doing half the work. Astrology for me is like sheet music—I hear almost a sound. Because I’m a musician, I look for patterns and universal language. When I look at a chart, I hear the sonic texture. Harsh aspects like Mars or Saturn have a sound like metal grating together; that’s how I hear a car accident.

I once did a blind reading for a stranger on Clubhouse. I saw her Saturn and Mars were both at 14 degrees. I asked, “Was your dad in a drunk driving accident when you were 14?” and she was stunned. I use “Degree Theory,” where you convert the degrees of the planets into ages. About 90% of the time, it resonates in shocking ways. The aspects are the “loud” parts of the sheet music. They define the song.

The Problem with Daily Content

Vivi Henriette: The thing that always trips me up is the consumption of daily content. I think the beauty of astrology is found in the longer patterns—the “shape” of our lives. I worry that the anxiety of “what is the moon doing today” makes astrology do something it isn’t actually good at. How do you think about that as a creator?

Evan Nathaniel Grim: I want to be the Charli XCX of astrologers—Top 40, but still indie. I try to thread the needle where I’m appealing to a lot of people, but I’m still forcing them to learn what a superior square is. I understand that anxiety, which is why I’ve actually pared back my posting schedule. You don’t want to drown in the collective energy.

I try to paint every transit as a spectrum of choice. It’s not a lottery; you aren’t just playing Powerball numbers with your Rising sign and waiting to win. I want to use the daily content as a gateway to help people restore faith in a realistic way, rather than just looking for tragedy.

The Oasis of 2026

Vivi Henriette: I’m going to end on a hopeful note. We’ve all been hearing so much about the volatility of 2026. How do you frame that “light at the end of the tunnel” for us?

Evan Nathaniel Grim: 2026 is an oasis in an otherwise dry and hot era. We’ve had Neptune and Saturn in Pisces lately, and a lot of people have gone into a depressing “hermit mode.” But next year, as planets move into fire and air signs, there is a “Great Untethering.” It’s a year for taking bold risks on things you’ve been ruminating on for years.

The Virgo-Pisces eclipses we’re moving through are about detoxifying—getting rid of the habits and people that drain us. People ask me when things get “better,” and I look to 2032 as the birth of a new system. Until then, my advice is to get back into your local community. We are biologically wired to process 25 deep relationships, not thousands of parasocial ones. Take your knowledge and do something with the person standing right in front of you. Localize your life.

Wanna see what 2026 has in store for you?

Join me for Office Hours: an intimate, community-driven space to discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices. These conversational gatherings are a direct way to connect with me and fellow curious minds as we build knowledge and community together.

Office Hours are held online twice a month and are exclusive to Club Astro members.

The next session is today, Thursday, February 26th, at 5pm PT.

How to join:
A paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC grants you full access to Club Astro and all its perks, including office hours, discounted readings, and secret invites.

About Evan

⁠Evan Nathaniel Grim⁠ went from successful digital strategist in New York to world-renowned astrologer practically overnight after a freak concussion. The concussion enhanced his connection to the spirit world and he’s now blazing a new trail in the field of astrology with his analytical approach and eerily accurate predictions. His straightforward yet deeply intuitive reading style has caught the attention of over 80 million people across⁠ TikTok⁠, ⁠Instagram⁠ and ⁠YouTube⁠. He has been cited in The Economist, E! News, People, and more. He also hosts a live show doing on-the-spot readings of audience members at various theaters.

About Vivi

Vivi Henriette is an LA-based astrologer and tarot reader whose practice centers on storytelling, mythology, and collaborative divination. She creates a space for clients to reclaim their personal narratives through the lens of ancient archetypes. Vivi produces ⁠LA Astro Fest,⁠ hosts the Los Angeles Astro Salon, and creator of the podcast ⁠TALK TALK TALK⁠. You can find her weekly writing on ritual and meaning at her Substack, ⁠ART of the ZODIAC⁠.

About The Los Angeles Astro Salon

The ⁠Los Angeles Astro Salon⁠ is a monthly meetup for professional astrologers and serious astrology students of all levels. Hosted by Vivi Henriette of ART of the ZODIAC on the 4th Tuesday of each month at the , each Salon features a new co-host and a robust audience driven conversation.

Further Learning

Like many of you, I live with ADHD. My time management skills are weak, and my tolerance for boring tasks is non-existent. Yet, by the grace of God and plenty of external support, I’ve managed to remain self-employed for 12 years.

Getting here has taken a massive amount of trial and error. I’ve tried a lot: supplements, micro-dosing, timers, calendars, and to-do apps. I’ve thrown money at bracelets that buzz and high-tech meditation gear meant to soothe my vagus nerve.

While much of that helped me build a toolkit to survive my compromised executive function, one method is currently outperforming the rest. It’s simple, it’s free, and it might even make you a better astrologer.

I’m talking about planetary days.

What Are Planetary Days?

Every day of the week is governed by a planet, and each night by another. Each 24-hour day is also divided into planetary hours. Astrologers and magicians have used this structure for centuries to guide timing for rituals, decisions, and work.

Even if you don’t think you know planetary days, you probably do. The pattern is hidden in plain sight, especially in Romance languages. Lunes for the Moon, martes for Mars, miércoles for Mercury, jueves for Jupiter, and so on. Our calendar is already coded with planetary rhythm.

We’ll focus here on the seven planetary days and how to use them as a structure for your energy, your to-do list, or even your wardrobe.

Why It Works

Each planet in traditional astrology carries a personality. They have their own intelligence, preferences, discomforts, and gifts. Working with them is not about belief. It is about collaboration.

These seven celestial bodies govern everything from war and love to rest and communication. The simplest daily tasks, email, errands, art, affection, all live under one of their umbrellas.

Learning to collaborate with these planetary rhythms is foundational to astrology. If you want a deeper dive into their natures, check out my guide, ABC of Astrology: On The Planets & Their Natures.

Living in step with the planets is not unlike syncing with the seasons. Both give us structure. They help us hold the parts of life that aren’t just productive or inspired — like maintenance, rest, and repair.

Planets in Practice

Like many of you, there are things I love to do and things I try to avoid.

There are also things I love in theory but rarely do in practice. In theory, I am someone who handwrites letters. In practice... I am not.

Here is the shift: when I break my week into planetary days, the hard parts of life become ritual, and the sweet parts feel earned.

Every Thursday, Jupiter’s day, I show up to study. Every Friday, Venus’s day, I make time for pleasure. Even when I’m behind. Especially when I’m behind.

Each day below includes its associated planet, energy, color, and how I work with it in real life. If you want to go deeper, try dressing in the color of the day. My partner, who inspired this piece, does exactly that, and the results are both grounding and affirming.

Sunday: Sun’s Day

Color: Yellow, Gold

Sunday is for getting out into the sun — literally and symbolically.

This is where I begin my week. Ideally, with a morning hike and a long, slow brunch. Sunday is for inspired labor, the kind that nourishes the soul rather than drains it.

I dedicate this day to long-term visions: my podcast, LA Astro Fest, big-picture work that might not bloom right away. If I show up consistently, I find the results eventually shine brighter than anything I could rush in a single day or week.

This is also when I map out the week ahead and bank some inspiration to carry me through.

Monday: Moon’s Day

Color: White, Silver

The Moon is elusive, reflective, and deeply human — a keeper of memory and feeling.

While Sunday is about outward planning, Monday is where I ease in. I try not to schedule meetings. Instead, I use Moon’s Day for writing my newsletter and doing deeper research. I expect slowness. I leave room for lunar interruption — a friend in need, a mood I need to move through.

At night, I love to cook. Usually for my partner, or a friend, with plenty of leftovers for the week. It’s a soft day that asks for softness in return.

Tuesday: Mars’ Day

Color: Red

Mars’ Day is for taking action.

If I worked a 9-to-5, I would argue Monday should be a slow start from home. Tuesday is when we hit the ground running. Ideally with a workout, or at least some momentum.

I send my newsletter on Tuesdays. I schedule my busiest, most energized tasks for this day: strategy, meetings, pitch calls, brainstorming sessions. Mars loves movement, pressure, and focus. And on Mars’ Day, I let that drive run the show.

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Wednesday: Mercury’s Day

Color: Multicolor, Prints

Mercury’s Day is for communication and exchange.

Mercury rules messages, messengers, and movement — both in words and in the mind. It is the midweek handoff, guiding us through the transition between the push of Mars and the reflectiveness of Jupiter.

This is the day I pay bills, send follow-ups, and write my big Thursday newsletter.

It’s also a beautiful day for connecting more soulfully. Handwritten letters. Long phone calls. Conversations that start with logistics but end somewhere surprising.

Shoutout to the Los Angeles Breakfast Club, who’ve been celebrating Mercury’s Day for over 100 years with songs and guest speakers. The ultimate Mercury ritual.

Thursday: Jupiter’s Day

Color: Purple, Bright Blue

Jupiter’s Day is for expansion and meaning.

In Vedic astrology, it’s said that if you want to make friends with Jupiter, you should visit a temple. Which temple? That depends on you.

For me, this means visiting the temple of books. It’s a study day. A day for mentorship, both giving and receiving. I meet with my therapist and with students. I try to attend a lecture or take in something that stretches me.

If I’ve honored the earlier days, Jupiter’s Day is when I finally get to sink into joyfully focused work. It’s also a great day to start a trip or initiate something big-hearted.

Friday: Venus’s Day

Color: Green, Copper

If you control your schedule, take Friday off.

Venus is for beauty, pleasure, and desire. She wants you to remember that your senses are sacred.

Sleep in. Eat something luxurious. Have a long breakfast. Let your body move toward what feels good.

Trying to call in love? Build an altar with flowers and sweets. Light a green candle. Write love notes to yourself. Go on a date, or take yourself on one. Let the night be long. Let it be beautiful.

Saturday: Saturn’s Day

Color: Black, Charcoal

Saturn’s Day is for structure, endings, and clean-up.

Some witches I know use Saturday to deep clean. That’s not quite my vibe. But I do use the day to tie up loose ends. Return packages. Donate clothes. Clear out what doesn’t need to come into the week ahead.

Sometimes I run errands with my partner. Sometimes I sit in silence. It’s not a glamorous day, but Saturn isn’t here to be glamorous. Saturn is here to help you face what’s unfinished and prepare the container for what’s next.

Finding Your Personal Rhythm

Working with planetary days has given me a structure I can return to, one that doesn’t ask me to be perfect, just present. Some weeks I follow it closely. Other weeks it’s more of a backdrop. But knowing that each day brings its own flavor, its own invitation, helps me stay in sync with time instead of feeling ruled by it.

Ready to build your own weekly architecture?

Join me on Sunday, February 15th at 4 PM PT for my live workshop: Planetary Days in Action: Reclaiming Your Focus Through the Magic of Weekly Ritual.

This is where we move beyond the theory and get into the specific mechanics of your own chart. Together, we’ll map out a weekly flow that respects your challenges and amplifies your natural strengths. If you’ve been searching for a system that feels alive rather than rigid—one that actually holds you—this is it.

Whether you’re navigating ADHD, building a creative practice, or just tired of feeling unmoored, this is how you start working with time instead of being ruled by it.

Tickets are $35, but Club Astro members attend for free. To join us, just upgrade to a paid subscription below

✨ Planetary Days in Action: Reclaiming Your Focus Through the Magic of Weekly Ritual

🗓️ Sunday, February 15th
🕓 4 PM PT
💻 Live on Zoom (Link provided upon registration)

Secure Your Spot

Read more

It’s been one week since my mother was rushed into emergency surgery. Five days since she died.

When she was alive, I could never see her astrology chart. Despite all my training and experience, it just looked like abstract symbols. Over the years, a few of these markings began to emerge from the noise.

Her Virgo moon I will forever attribute to her chronic anxiety—the source of her own discomfort and criticism, especially of the way my Gemini moon throws around money and ideas. What yoked us was our Mercurial moons and our talent for being aloof and avoidant.

Her Sun in Cancer was at odds with mine in Aries, and was the reason, I’m convinced, that she tried to nurture everyone around her but me. Her housekeeper, her hairdresser, her large adopted family, her dogs and neighborhood strays: my mother had endless time, space and resources for all of them.

Until her death, the only parts of her chart that spoke to me were those that mirrored our relationship. It was difficult to see her as a separate entity, with her own complex web of needs, desires, traumas and destiny.

A Nodal Story

Sitting with my mother’s chart after her passing, it was as if a fog had been lifted: a story began to take shape. One wholly independent of me—one her life had prevented me from seeing.

I had never realized she was born shortly after a solar eclipse, the south node of the moon draining the sun of its ego and vitality.

For the first time, I saw past my mother’s anxieties to her own insecurities and self-doubts—the abandoned hobbies and ambitions, the years of domestic abuse, the ways she constantly sacrificed her needs for others.

I could also see why my own amped-up Sun caused her such pain: I contain a fierceness that was completely out of reach to her.

What I once saw as derision and resentment now takes the shape of concern. My independence, stubbornness, and devotion to wild ideas made my mother worry. Her own experience taught her that there were consequences for shining too brightly.

A Final Message

As we prepare for the final leg of eclipses through Virgo/Pisces, I, like many of us, have been trying to sort out my own story.

For me, this terrain falls in the 2nd and 8th houses of my chart, an axis marked by finances—both personal and shared—and death. We could further extrapolate to say that the 2nd house is that which nurtures our person, and the 8th is a shared source of nourishment.

For months I have been looking at this part of my life, thinking I had it sussed out. This eclipse season has brought changes in my work life, both financially and collaboratively, but death had never crossed my mind.

Nor had the intense ways in which my own life was so deeply entwined with my mother’s.

As I said my final goodbyes to her lifeless body, it occurred to me for the first time: this is the vessel that gave me life.

Unraveling her story from mine starts now, and it’s the work of a lifetime.

A Guide to Eclipse Survival: Join Us Live in Los Angeles

Roughly four times a year, these harbingers of change descend upon our lives. Like trying to grasp at shadows, their actions are hard to predict — but one thing is certain: wherever eclipses land in our charts becomes a flashpoint for the unexpected.

Sometimes the shifts are subtle. Other times, they are life-altering.

This month, I’ll be joined by Marval A Rex for a deep dive into the upcoming eclipse season. Together, we’ll explore the stories being churned up on the Virgo/Pisces axis and look ahead to what the Leo/Aquarius cycle has in store. Expect history, survival tactics, and some good old-fashioned astro-therapy. Come ready to participate and find your footing in the change.

Join Us In Los Angeles

Learn Astrology! Make Friends!

Join me for an intimate, community-driven space where we discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices together. Office Hours are designed to be conversational, flexible, and an opportunity to connect directly with me and with fellow astrologically curious minds, building knowledge and community simultaneously.

Office Hours are held online once a month and are open to all Club Astro members.

The next office hours are today, Wednesday, January 28th, at 4pm PT.

Joining is simple: Your paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC provides access to Club Astro. If you’re already a supporter, welcome to the club! You’re all set.

Whenever I struggle with my own astrology practice, I return to the work of Susan Miller.

In an age of TikTok astrologers, where predictions have become party tricks and daily horoscopes are wielded as fear tactics to drive engagement, it’s easy to feel disillusioned. Sometimes, I want to throw in the towel.

In those moments, I think of Susan.

I think of the way she fondly recalls her mother studying the stars in the quiet hours of night. A mother who once warned her that sharing astrology publicly was a risk—that it might mean alienation.

Susan went on to become one of the most esteemed astrologers of our time, her work appearing everywhere from Vogue to The New York Times. But it’s not her fame or her precision that draws me in. It’s the way she cares for her readers. She sees herself as a translator for the planets, committed to making their movements accessible—so that life on Earth might feel just a little less chaotic.

I remember her once saying, over lunch, that she wouldn’t release a “year ahead” forecast because the terrain was too hard. She didn’t want to speak unless she had something productive to say.

That kind of integrity stays with me. It reminds me that being part of this lineage is a gift—and that the only way forward is with devotion and service.

This conversation is part of the Los Angeles Astro Salon, my monthly meetup at the . Each month, I sit down with a guest astrologer to explore the cosmic weather. This one was intended to be a “year ahead” forecast. But with Susan, things rarely stay on script.

Listen To The Full Interview

On Her Origins and the 12-Year Rule

“My mother had studied astrology for eight years before she ever even looked at my chart. When I was 14, I was in the hospital for a full year. I bleed internally—I’ve had 40 transfusions in my life. I was in grueling physical therapy, learning how to walk again, and I wanted to know if this was going to have a happy ending. I asked my mother to teach me so I could see my own future.

She said, ‘No. You’ll start reading for people after a year and you won’t know anything. If you don’t study for 12 years, you won’t be any good.’ I finally wrote to Horoscope Magazine and they picked my question. When my mother saw my chart and my time of birth in the magazine, she realized I was serious. That’s when she finally began teaching me.”

On the Prophecy of the “Dots and Lines”

Long before the world knew what a “web browser” was, Susan’s mother predicted her daughter’s digital career with startling accuracy.

“When I was nine years old, my mother told me, ‘Susan, you’re going to write. You have Gemini rising. But then, when you get close to 40, you have Aquarius on the Midheaven—some newly invented form of communication. We don’t know the name of it yet.’

I followed her around the house as she vacuumed, asking, ‘What is it?’ She told me, ‘Aquarius is an air sign. I’m going to say something that will make no sense to you, but there are little dots and lines that go through the air that are invisible, and that have something to do with your writing. That is your destiny.’

She was predicting the internet. Years later, when I was in the Time Life building meeting a webmaster to launch the site, I put my elbows on the table and said, ‘Don’t you see? This is my destiny.’”

On the Philosophy of “Writing Long”

In the early days of the web, the “pundits” told Susan that internet readers had no attention span. They wanted her to cap her horoscopes at 25 words. She refused.

“I said, ‘I want to change the world, and I can’t do it at 25 words.’ I felt like a lawyer arguing a case—here is the provenance of every single aspect, here is why you should believe me. Whenever you make a decision out of courage rather than fear, it’s the right decision. Use your gut. It will change your life.”

On the “Partnership” with the Stars

One of Susan’s most famous traits is her ability to animate the planets, treating them not as abstract rocks in space, but as active characters in our lives.

“It’s a partnership. You can have the best aspects in the world, but if you don’t leave the house, it isn’t going to affect you. I’ll get letters from readers saying, ‘I didn’t meet the man of my dreams.’ And I ask, ‘Did you leave the house?’ I think of the planets as little people. I say to them, ‘What are you trying to tell me?’ I have to crack the code.

Astrology isn’t just ‘blue sky and rainbows’; it’s practical. I went into astrology to help people who feel like they are on a raft in the middle of the ocean during a storm. Astrology helps you find the shore.”

On the “Frankfurter” Rule and the Astrology of 2026

Looking ahead to 2026, Susan notes that while it may be a smoother ride than 2027, we have to respect the “timekeeper” of the zodiac: Mars.

“I like 2026 better than 2027. We have Mars going retrograde in January and staying in Virgo for eight months. Mars is the timekeeper—it’s where your focus is. When it’s retrograde, you cannot sell a frankfurter! You shouldn’t launch a new business or a project during that time because Mars is your competition.

But we also have big shifts: Uranus goes into Gemini in April 2026, and Saturn finally leaves Pisces. For the fixed signs—Leo, Aquarius, Taurus, and Scorpio—you’ve had your feet held to the fire lately. But the universe is an equal-opportunity employer. The aspects will change.”

On Eclipses as the “Hand of God”

Susan views eclipses as non-negotiable pivots that often do for us what we are too afraid to do for ourselves.

“An eclipse laughs at your ‘convenient’ schedule. If you can’t remedy a situation, an eclipse will come in and do it for you. I had an infection in my kidney for six years, and no doctor would touch it. Then an eclipse hit my chart exactly. I found the right doctor, and he pulverized the stone and vacuum-cleaned my kidney.

Some people would say, ‘Susan, what a terrible year, you had surgery.’ No! It was a wonderful year. I found the help I needed. It’s all about how you frame it.”

Final Advice for the “Astro-Seeker”

Susan’s technical advice remains consistent, whether she’s writing for Vogue or speaking to an intimate salon at the Philosophical Research Society.

“Read both your Sun sign and your Rising sign. If you only read one, you’re only getting 50%. And if someone says they don’t ‘feel’ like their sign, look at their Moon. If they were born at night—even one minute after the sun went down—they will often exhibit the Moon sign more strongly.

Life comes at you like a pie in the face constantly. I always say I get hit by a bus every day; I just don’t know which direction it’s coming from! But you keep going. You are learning from every single battle you lose. So keep going.”

Learn Astrology! Make Friends!

Join me for an intimate, community-driven space where we discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices together. Office Hours are designed to be conversational, flexible, and an opportunity to connect directly with me and with fellow astrologically curious minds, building knowledge and community simultaneously.

Office Hours are held online once a month and are open to all Club Astro members.

The next office hours are today, Wednesday, January 28th, at 4pm PT.

Joining is simple: Your paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC provides access to Club Astro. If you’re already a supporter, welcome to the club! You’re all set.

ABOUT SUSAN

Susan Miller is the visionary force behind AstrologyZone.com, a platform she launched in 1995 that has since become a celestial compass for millions. With over 13 million unique visitors annually, Susan’s in-depth and insightful horoscopes have guided seekers through the ebbs and flows of life.

Beyond her digital presence, Susan has authored 17 books, penned columns for international fashion magazines, and collaborated with renowned brands, seamlessly weaving astrology into the fabric of contemporary culture.

ABOUT VIVI

Vivi Henriette is an LA-based astrologer and tarot reader whose practice centers on storytelling, mythology, and collaborative divination. She creates a space for clients to reclaim their personal narratives through the lens of ancient archetypes. Vivi produces LA Astro Fest, hosts the Los Angeles Astro Salon, and creator of the podcast TALK TALK TALK. You can find her weekly writing on ritual and meaning at her Substack, ART of the ZODIAC.

MORE SUSAN!

Early in my astrology journey, I was hired as the in-house astrologer at a psychic shop.

I was warned that I needed to know tarot because the clientele tended to be skeptical of astrologers. A warning I heard and promptly forgot. Because really, who doesn’t like an astrologer? Specifically, who doesn’t like an astrologer at a psychic shop?

A lot of people…

Read more

My prediction for 2026 is that—like any other—the year will bring its own set of challenges; some more dynamic and explosive than others.

Before I panic over everyone else’s astrological forecasts, I’m reminding myself that our lives stretch far beyond a single day, a single year—or even a single lifetime. In every moment, we are living out multiple timelines simultaneously:

• The Mars timeline (roughly 2 years)

• The Venus timeline (roughly 8 years)

• The Jupiter timeline (roughly 12 years)

• The Saturn timeline (roughly 29 years)

The Biography of Time

To isolate the “year ahead” is like watching a biography—fast-forwarding to the middle—and turning it off after twenty minutes. We might catch the protagonist at a low point—heartache, the loss of a job, a significant death—but without the rest of the film, we have no context.

We can neither understand the depth of the tragedy nor know how the story will eventually play out. There is little use in predicting a “year” when our personal rhythms rarely resolve within a tidy, 12-month window.

What stories are currently unfolding in your own life? Which feel like they’re coming to a close? Which have just begun to unravel?

The Logic of the Linger

At the same time, every year is comprised of four seasons: spring, summer, fall, and winter. Each has its own logic and directives. In terms of astrological timing, January 1st is an arbitrary start date, yet it always falls during Capricorn season—the first triad of winter.

Children of the Northern Hemisphere: this is a time for rest and regeneration—a time for reflecting on the past and dreaming up the future.

Before you push into action on January 1st, I encourage you to linger a little longer. Take stock of the narratives weaving through your life and let this wisdom gestate.

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The Architecture of Winter

The first two portions of winter, Capricorn and Aquarius, are ruled by Saturn, the agriculture god of death, whose sickle clears the dead land to make room for fresh life. In Capricorn season, we reckon with which parts of our lives are best given over to the compost. Aquarius season, and the stillness of mid-winter, offers us the perspective needed to build the scaffolding for a new reality.

Finally, Pisces season, the domain of wise and benevolent Jupiter, provides space for meditation and integration before spring calls us into action once more.

In March, like tiny shoots bursting through fresh soil, we too will awaken from our hibernation to step back into our lives, carrying the knowledge that we are always in the heart of many unfolding chapters.

End-of-Year Reading Special: Astrology As Creative Prompt

If you’re seeking guidance during this period of meaning-making, I’m offering a limited number of interactive reading packages for the season. Over the course of three sessions, we will explore your life through a blend of astrological wisdom and creative inquiry—identifying the narratives calling for release while nurturing those that seek to break forth in spring.

Going beyond a standard forecast, this offer includes:

• Three Interactive Readings — A dedicated container designed to be used within the first six months of the year.

• A Unique Approach — A rhythmic combination of divinatory wisdom and creative play.

• Deep Integration — A process that challenges you to refine your goals using custom writing prompts and meditations.

Because this is a limited and unique offering, the package is priced at $575—significantly lower than my standard reading rates.

Explore Your Stories

Club Astro Office Hours

Join me for an intimate, community-driven space where we discuss the current sky, explore your questions, and share practices together. Office Hours are designed to be conversational, flexible, and an opportunity to connect directly with me and with fellow astrologically curious minds, building knowledge and community simultaneously.

Office Hours are held online once a month and are open to all Club Astro members.

The next office hours are on Thursday, January 8th, at 4pm PT.

Joining is simple: Your paid subscription to ART of the ZODIAC provides access to Club Astro. If you’re already a supporter, welcome to the club! You’re all set.

Further Study