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ICYMI, my brand new podcast Call Your Coven (with and my partner Meg Jones Wall) is now streaming on all major platforms! You can also watch our September forecast on YouTube — we heavily discuss today’s New Moon.
For the last 24 hours, I’ve been hip deep in both birth chart readings and book proposal edits. (My brain is finally coming back post-surgery.) But this morning I woke up and went, shit, it’s the new moon! — and scooped this foam off the top of my brain. This is a very shot-off-the-fingertips newsletter about a very nuanced topic, and I absolutely welcome conversation in the comments.
Today’s New Moon arrives at 11* of Virgo, at 9:55pm Eastern.
This summer, I had a conversation where a well-meaning acquaintance asked, essentially, if there was a singular blog post or article that could teach them everything they needed to know about astrology. I understood where the querent was coming from: there is so much information — an overwhelming amount, really, especially in our digital age where something new is just a search bar away. It can be hard to gauge “where” you’re at, knowledge-wise, until you’re in a room full of people you admire and respect who are using a common shorthand you don’t understand.
I appreciate the feeling of isolation that can be present when you’re seemingly the only beginner in a room full of experts and professionals. We were all beginners at some point, after all. In some fields, in some practices, I am still a beginner. And what I have witnessed, through being at all points of the expertise spectrum, is that being a beginner can activate childhood fears around being left out, or left behind. This kind of dissonance can invite a kind of FOMO, alongside insecurities around, for lack of better terms, intelligence or likability. What could I have to contribute to this conversation? Why would they want to talk to me? I don’t know anything.
Such questions are born of that soul-deep human urge to belong and to connect. And I love astrology for its ability to create a shared language in which to process so many different facets of the human experience.
But here, the morning of an ultra-precise Virgo New Moon, I want to affirm that it is okay to be a beginner. It is okay not to know. It is, actually, okay to not belong everywhere. Because belonging everywhere is, actually, impossible.
In recent months, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking around the impacts of declining media literacy (in part due to the wonderful work of ). Digital users are increasingly unable, or unwilling, to assess whether something — an IG thread, a blog post — is “for” them. And it is not such a far leap to say that in an age of the curated feed, users may well expect the algorithm to give them content that is obviously for them, or that they should relate to, identify with, be able to parse. When a social media post or Substack newsletter isn’t automatically accessible, there can be discomfort that is expressed either through frustration with the creator (how dare you put something in the world that I cannot relate to) or with the self, for not knowing enough. This often belies a lack of critical thinking, for sure. But it also belies a concerning lack of discernment (one of the hot topics of Call Your Coven’s September forecast, and also this recent essay).
The dominance of the curated algorithm has had many unintended results, but perhaps the loudest is the amplification of beginner, or outsider, discomfort, and the desire to shortcut one’s way into expertise.
This Virgo New Moon reminds us that we cannot YouTube tutorial our way into instant expertise. There is no shortcut to fluency in a foreign-to-you language, and don’t be fooled: astrology is a language.
This (Western) cultural frustration with the slowness of the learning curve is reminiscent of artists developing their creative process. Sometimes, our taste outpaces our ability — and that is okay. It doesn’t mean that we insist that those we admire drop everything to teach us all they know. It also doesn’t mean that we are ourselves less valuable for not being as advanced in our knowledge or practices.
The process is the teacher.
And we cannot rush the kind of knowledge that takes time to sink into our bones.
This New Moon is a potent one for discernment, for distillation, for harvest. Opposite Saturn in Pisces, it challenges us to work with what is currently possible. It squares Mars and Jupiter (both in Gemini, also answering to Mercury), amplifying frustrations around not moving fast enough. This is not, perhaps, a New Moon of instant manifestation, but rather, one that encourages us to take stock of where we are and make a plan for how we will spend the time we have.
It encourages a refinement of our priorities, and the exercise of discernment as to our actual abilities. In that, this moon also encourages us to set realistic goals that are actually achievable. The precision of Virgo demands that we not react to amorphous feelings of “not enough” and really define what progress will look like, and the steps we can take to get there.
As Mary Oliver wrote in “Don’t Worry,”
Things take the time they take. Don’t
worry.
How many roads did Saint Augustine follow
before he became Saint Augustine?
Also also also.
I am officially opening my books for 2025 Year Ahead readings! The first and primary batch of these sessions will go from late October to mid-December. If you’d rather wait to book, I will be releasing a second, smaller batch of spots in early January after the holidays. (But then: thassit.)
Please note, when booking, that Calendly does not auto-integrate payment. Instructions for Venmo and Paypal are in the calendar invite. If payment is not received within 24 hours of booking, your spot will be released.
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