I’m at my family’s cabin in the hill country a couple of days ago. This is a place of refuge and a moment of rest that I had been looking forward to—like sinking into the soft arms of Mother Nature. The droning buzz of the city is replaced by the soothing hum of cicadas in the night. I feel the limestone of the hill country in my bones, and here, they settle.
As I’m brushing my teeth in preparation for bed, I see a spider in the sink—a much larger one than I’ve ever seen out here. Keeping my cool, I go grab a red plastic cup and pad of paper to usher it out the door, as I’ve done dozens of times before. Returning, it’s gone. I brush my teeth, slightly unnerved, turn off the bathroom light, and get into bed to meditate into sleep.
The spider’s still on my mind. I wonder if I should move beds to put some distance between myself and that creature. I get up to check it again, turning on the light, and ah! I see it crawling back into a hole, into the sink—out of reach, into safety. I do a quick Google on “hill country spiders” and find that, yes, we do have very poisonous spiders around. Could this one have been a young black widow? Was that an hourglass body I saw?
I decide to leave the light on in the bathroom, hoping the nocturnal spider will stay put and move beds to the other side of the cabin. Settling into meditation, I find myself saying the rosary, finding comfort in the perfect rhythm of the words, and wondering how Mary snuck her way into the heart of Catholicism.
I still feel sticky and get up to take a quick shower. Opening the bathroom, I see another spider, a much smaller one, on the wall. After a moment’s thought, I decide to smash it with a soap bottle. I rinse and dry off and get back into bed. Turning over in the middle of the night, my mind wanders to the spider on the other side of the cabin and whether I have offended the greater Spider being, that fearsome force of nature. I keep turning the rosary over in my mind, finding continued comfort in it.
I wake up alive, and with curious images and words floating through my head, as if I’ve been visited in the night—fortifying ideas and suggestions beyond my comfort zone. “This is magic,” I think, relieved and in awe. Later, I find a small, clearly distinguishable spider bite on my upper calf, and I chuckle to myself. Some little one must have crawled into my sheets last night.
These events unfolded in the hours before Pluto retrograded out of Aquarius and back into Capricorn. Pluto is the great transformer, absconding us into underworlds and illuminating them, lighting fearsome, alchemical flames. Where Pluto goes, the location of fear, suspicion, horror, and fascination follows. It’s a volcanic intensity. We experience an encounter with some more powerful force than ourselves, and seldom is that force easy to experience.
Pluto first moved into Capricorn in 2008, kicking off an era when our relationship with the world’s structures, authorities, and traditions have been wildly transformed. This was the era of the first black president, the greatest financial crisis since the Great Depression, Occupy Wall Street, the development of Bitcoin, the Me Too and Black Lives Matter movements, the election of Donald Trump, Covid and the radical politicization of health and science, and most recently, the beginnings of a possible World War III in Ukraine, Palestine, and potentially Taiwan. This entry of Pluto back into Capricorn till November 19th represents the final chapter of this story. It will almost certainly feature massively historical events, and I pray we make it through in relative peace.
In the Tarot, Capricorn is associated with Key 15, the Devil. In most Tarot decks, the Devil is represented as a thoroughly bestial figure. Bat wings, furry legs, a goat’s head, claws for feet, horns, women’s breasts, and male genitalia. Snake and spider features could easily belong. Altogether, it’s a chaotic, confusing image, an impossible combination of features creating an otherworldly, fearsome mess.
The Hebrew letter attributed to the Devil is Ayin, which means eye—and in our earliest version of the card, from the Marseilles Tarot, the Devil is depicted with eyes on his knees, a part of the body attributed to Capricorn. In other decks, this becomes a third eye. The magic comes from being able to see through this chaotic appearance, to diffuse the fear we have in the face of such a monstrous image, and make use of the vital force that it represents. Indeed, each of the animal features could symbolize different powerful qualities—and I hope that telling this story serves as a petitionary prayer to Spider so that I may be protected from her wrath and partake of her power of intricate creative organization.
Among the myriad devil-adjacent divinities from the ancient world that have been demonized and scapegoated, my favorite is Pan. Pan is a goat god residing in rural haunts. He’s a god of fright (pan-ic and pan-demic), but also of renewal, festivity, and celebration. He’s a god of music, fertility, and ecstasy. His terrifying arrival is an invitation to change, even resurrection, if we can refrain from or overcome the panic. A similar process could be seen in the awakening of kundalini, the serpent force at the root of the spine, which can be so terrifying, beautiful, and transformational.
There’s plenty to be frightened about in the world right now. The Doomsday Clock is at 90 seconds to midnight, the latest it’s ever been. We could end up in a nuclear war by some accidental bluff or blunder, or just from panic. It’s important to not panic. I understand that the 2008 financial crisis could have been a normal recession, but the powers that be decided to punish Lehman Brothers instead of buying them out and selling off the pieces (the normal course of action)—the next day, a panic was triggered in the market. But regardless if we succumb to panic, an encounter with these powerful forces excites change within us. What calls to rebirth or resurrection are present for you? What comes starkly into view as important, essential, and worth treasuring? Amidst the fragility of things, what bones can you rely on? What survives the churning of the aeons? What alchemizes in you while encountering a potential end, Death?
Crazily, the French astrologer Andre Barbault, who correctly predicted that there would be a worldwide pandemic in 2020, thought that the Uranus-Neptune-Pluto-Jupiter basket aspect pattern highlighting the 0 Aries point, which is already starting to settle into place, will really kick off in the spring of 2025, and will crescendo in the summer of 2026, will bring the “splendid relaunch of civilization.” I’ve heard takes on this that Barbault’s interpretation was tainted by a French utopian imagination that will probably play out as surveillance socialism, and maybe that’s partially true. Still, I do feel that another world is starting to be birthed and that it’s not all downhill. I think we’re on the upswing from the darkest depths of the Kali Yuga. I think that, amidst the terrifying trembling of a dying world order, we can sense this world in becoming, like a glimpse of a wild, virile god that we get when we are immersed in the more-than-human wilderness.
Amidst this, there are some other, more mundane but still very powerful planetary aspects at play in the present moment:
The first is the triple conjunction between Venus, Juno, and the South Node of the Moon, which brings romantic patterns, conditionings, and pasts into consciousness. The South Node of the Moon, at best, is a sort of release valve, giving an opportunity to discard, clean up, and let go. Here, romance is not just eroticism, but also about themes of partnership, commitment, and loyalty (Juno). Old flames, unresolved issues, or familiar dynamics might resurface. Altogether, it’s time to aim at clarity, refinement, equality, and a true sense of harmony or synergy in one’s relationships.
Just as Mercury’s moved direct after a three-week retrograde, Uranus has stationed retrograde themself. Thus, although some of the lower-level plans, logistical elements, or decisions may be ready to start gradually picking up speed after a period of feeling stalled or tangled, there might be a deeper inner revolution or personal awakening brewing with Uranus. Uranus is an electrical energy, prompting innovation and asking us to act out of freedom. Of late, I’ve been resonating with the idea that Uranus’ retrograde is sort of like a higher octave of Mercury’s retrograde. Uranus will be retrograde till January 25th.
Mars is also just about to enter Cancer, signaling a shift to a more intuitive, protective, and emotionally driven approach to action. This directs focus toward home, family, and emotional security and speaks of power to be found when grounded in that softer space. Still, it might be important to navigate emotions constructively, as Mars in Cancer can be very defensive, reactive, or passive-aggressive.
Finally, over the next week or so, especially through the weekend, the Sun will oppose Saturn, which highlights themes of responsibility, navigating limitations, and discipline. It’s a sort of reckoning with reality, and that can feel quite heavy, as if there’s a weight to obligations or a need to address challenges head-on. With Saturn in Pisces, there could be an added element of fatigue, confusion, or spiritual heaviness. Regardless, it’s an energy to use to set boundaries, embrace maturity, and take a structured, steady approach in overcoming obstacles.
Much more on the particular astrological elements at play for the paid subscribers, below! As always, if there’s a way I can be helpful, please reach out to book a reading!