🪐Retrograde Season: 🌘
Remembering Who I Am
I don’t always track the planets, but when everything starts feeling upside down — tech glitching, weird dreams, sudden bursts of old emotions — I start to wonder. And sure enough, here we are again. Mercury’s in retrograde. Saturn too. Neptune spinning backward right along with them. And all of it is happening in Aries.
My sign.
I’m used to fire. I’m used to forward motion, to figuring it out as I go. I’ve built a life from sparks and instincts. But this? This retrograde season feels like being asked to sit in a still room while everything rearranges itself. And somehow, I’m supposed to keep breathing through it.
Lately, I’ve been remembering versions of myself I thought I was done with. Old ideas. Old dreams. Old wounds. They’re not loud. They show up in the quiet spaces—in the shower, in traffic, at 2AM when I can’t sleep. Not to haunt me, but to ask:
What have you forgotten about yourself?
And I’ll be honest—part of me wants to run. That Aries fire kicks up, tells me to act, to move, to fix. But there’s a different voice emerging now. It’s softer, but rooted.
It says:
This isn’t about rushing. It’s about refining.
Mercury’s retrograde is making me question how I speak to myself. What I affirm, what I repeat, what I declare without thinking.
Saturn’s retrograde is making me check the structures in my life. The routines. The responsibilities I didn’t question until now.
Neptune’s retrograde? That one’s pulling at my spirit—asking if the vision I’ve been chasing is even mine.
So instead of forcing clarity, I’m letting the questions come.
Instead of chasing the next step, I’m rooting deeper into the present one.
And in the middle of all this planetary rewind, I feel something powerful settling in:
I don’t need to become anything.
I just need to remember who I already am.
And maybe this retrograde, wild as it is, is exactly what I needed.
To slow down enough to hear myself again.
To stand still long enough to let the magic catch up.
To make peace with the pause before the next fire lights up.
Because I’m not lost.
I’m realigning.
And when I move again —
It’s going to be different.
It’s going to be true.
And somehow, all of that is a gift.
This isn’t just cosmic chaos. It’s sacred rearrangement.
That’s the energy I’m manifesting from. Not desperation, not fantasy — but alignment. Trust. Reconnection. I’m not rushing to prove or to fix. I’m opening to receive. I’m calling in what’s already meant for me and clearing out what never truly fit.