Hey, it’s the week of the Leonid meteor shower! Did you practice finding the Leo constellation last week? Look up after midnight, all this week, to see the shower’s peak.
The moon’s doing some cool stuff this week. It’ll be a waxing crescent setting just after sunset near Jupiter and Saturn. We’re still approaching the great conjunction next month, so the celestial bodies will keep creeping closer to each other.
I’ve mentioned the Summer Triangle before, three bright stars in three separate constellations that travel together. They’re heading towards the western horizon before they’ll re-emerge in the east in June next year.
We trade the Summer Triangle for Orion, the Hunter, who will guide us through the winter months. He’s in the southeast sky in the early evening. The stars in Orion’s belt have meaning for cultures all over the world. A few minutes spent gazing at them in the crisp fall night connects you to millennia of people watching the approach of winter.
Orion brings Canis Minor and Canis Major with him. They’re dimmer constellations, but dogs, so worth finding in the night sky. Follow the path of Orion’s belt down to Canis Major, hunting the rabbit, Lepus. He’s easy to find because of the bright star, Sirius.
Your Sign for the Week
This year isn’t pulling out of its uncontrolled nose-dive anytime soon. So, we’ve taken to gazing up at the clouds, searching for meaning. This week features your sign as a cloud pattern.
Cirrus. Do you ever do auto-writing as a meditation, Rams? Speak your existential questions into a mug, turn it over onto the page of a notebook and let your mind go blank as you write. Your subconscious might unlock the answers you’ve been seeking.
Stratus. Apologies need six components to be real, Bulls. But learning how to apologize and move on is a superpower. Regret, explain, acknowledge, repent, repair, request forgiveness, rinse, and repeat. Think of “sorry” as the skeleton key for an easy life.
Altostratus. Time for you to read the tea leaves for yourself, Twins. You won’t know what to pursue until you see what’s important to you. If you keep spreading yourself so thin, pretty soon, you’ll rip right in two.
Stratocumulus. Don’t hesitate to offer guidance to others, Crabs, even if you’re feeling a little adrift yourself. It’s the perfect week to tackle the mindless tasks you’ve been putting off and getting caught up on podcasts. You’ll find your mooring soon.
Cumulonimbus. Stay light on your toes, Lions; there are hijinks afoot. Stay ahead of the competition this week with an online Tarot card reading, or just, you know, reading the news. Start separating from the things that no longer serve you; significant changes are imminent.
Mammatus. How are you staying centered these days, Virgo? If you’re, uhm, not, it’s time to add some structure and discipline to your life. The orbits around you will continue to spin out unless you find a way to hold the center.
Cirrostratus. This week leading into the start of the holidays is perfect for you to start reflecting on the energy you want to carry into 2021 and beyond. If that energy isn’t already a SAD lamp, it’s time to bite the bullet and glow your way to happiness.
Cumulus. Are you happy with your TikTok branding, Scorpions? If you’re not curating your content, you’re not growing your base, you know? Is there anyone more capable of tapping into the cultural zeitgeist than you?
Cirrocumulus. Now until spring won’t be an easy time, Archers, but your trials and tribulations will give you an iron heart in the face of future hardships. Also, have you considered puzzling? A good 1000 piece-er will take the starch out of your wanderlust.
Kelvin-Helmholtz. Virtual is the new analog! Later is the new now! Sweatpants are the new workwear! These last months of 2020 are the insult following the injury the year’s done to your plans—nothing to do if you can’t beat them but join them.
Altocumulus. Gotta look back to look forward. There are lessons in the long drudgery of the year. The more you’re able to glean from the misadventures of 2020, the better prepared you’ll be for the catastrophe of 2021 (Jk, I’m sure next year will be fine).
Nimbostratus. Make yourself available to new (virtual) experiences, Fishes. Trapped in quarantine, it can feel as though you’re cut off from social interactions and mysterious strangers, but keep an eye out for the unexpected (maybe join a book group?)