From Paralysis to Perspective: Astrology in the Eye of the Storm
wirtten 01/25/25
I’ve woken up every day since that moment (the salute proudly displayed on one of the largest political platforms we have in the country: inauguration day) with a heavy, sinking feeling in my stomach. It’s like I’m carrying not just my own anxiety, but the collective weight of the country—maybe even the world. Every day, there’s a new notification, article, video, or conversation about drastic, and frankly terrifying, changes. The sheer pace of it all feels like an onslaught: attempts to end birthright citizenship, pardoning insurrectionists, rolling back policies that protect the most vulnerable.
And then there’s the exhaustion. The sense of paralysis. I keep asking myself, “Is this where we stand up and say no?” But how? The very system feels like it’s designed to keep us too busy surviving to resist. It’s hard to not feel helpless, like one small voice in a sea of shock and pain.
In these moments, I always come back to astrology—not for easy answers, but for perspective. Because when the world feels this chaotic, I need something to help me make sense of the bigger picture.
Mars Retrograde in Cancer: The Emotional Storm
Right now, we’re under the influence of Mars retrograde in Cancer—a transit that, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, feels like emotional whiplash. Mars wants action. It wants to fight, assert, and move forward. But in Cancer? It’s like trying to wage a battle underwater. Mars in Cancer turns the action inward, stirring up deep emotional tides that make it hard to think clearly, let alone act decisively.
During a retrograde, Mars’s energy isn’t just turned inward—it’s moving backward. The result? Frustration, moodiness, and the reemergence of old emotional wounds we thought we’d already dealt with. And in Cancer, a sign that rules home, family, and protection, this retrograde feels deeply personal. It’s a war on the very things we associate with safety and nurturing.
Historically, Mars retrogrades in Cancer have coincided with times of domestic unrest and heightened emotional tension. These transits force us to confront the cracks in the foundations of our lives—literally and metaphorically. The last time we saw this energy, we saw heightened debates over issues of home and security, both on a personal and societal level. This energy doesn’t let us ignore what’s broken.
Pluto in Aquarius: The Bigger Picture
If Mars retrograde feels like emotional chaos, Pluto in Aquarius reminds us why it’s happening. Pluto doesn’t care about our comfort zones. It’s the planet of transformation—destruction before renewal. And right now, Pluto is sitting at 1° Aquarius, saying: “It’s time to pull up the rot.”
Think of Pluto as the force that flips over a mossy rock, exposing all the critters squirming underneath. It’s gross, it’s overwhelming, but it’s also necessary. Pluto in Aquarius is about collective reckoning. It’s about exposing corruption, breaking apart systems that no longer serve us, and forcing us to reimagine how we live together.
The Sun at 0° Aquarius earlier this month only amplified this energy, shining a literal spotlight on Pluto’s excavation project. No wonder it feels like the foundations are shaking.
Finding Ground in the Chaos
It’s tempting to disconnect right now. I’ve thought about deleting social media, quitting Amazon, and cutting off every corporate entity that’s kowtowing to these new policies. But here’s the thing: connection matters. Communication matters. Even if the system feels rigged against us, staying informed and connected is how we resist.
I know I’m not alone in feeling frozen, helpless, and nauseated by what’s happening. But maybe this is the point in the story where we stop looking away. Where we sit with the discomfort Pluto is dredging up and say, “Okay, what now?”
Mars retrograde in Cancer reminds us that action doesn’t always look like charging forward. Sometimes, it’s about pausing. Reflecting. Tending to the parts of ourselves that are overwhelmed and weary. And Pluto in Aquarius is a long-haul transit—it’s not about quick fixes. It’s about the slow, often painful process of collective transformation.
So, if you’re feeling stuck, start small. Hold space for yourself. Find one thing—one action, one connection—that feels meaningful, and build from there. We’re in this together, even when it feels like the world is pulling us apart.
