When the Sky Cracks Open
Friends on the Path,
We’re standing at one of those threshold moments—the kind you’ll look back on years from now and think, ah yes, that’s when everything shifted.
Three cosmic events are converging to crack open the shell of what was: an eclipse on February 17th, the once-in-9,000-years Saturn-Neptune conjunction at 0° Aries on February 20th, and another eclipse on March 3rd. And woven through it all, the Year of the Fire Horse gallops in on the 17th, bringing its own wild, untameable energy.
If you’ve felt the ground trembling beneath your feet these past weeks, you’re not imagining things. The old world is dissolving. A new one is being born.
The Astrology of Becoming
Here’s what’s happening in simple terms: Saturn (structure, reality, what’s solid) is meeting Neptune (dreams, spirit, what dissolves) at the very first degree of Aries—the sign of new beginnings. It’s like watching a wave crash against a stone wall, except the wall becomes the wave, and the wave becomes the wall, and suddenly you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
This hasn’t happened at this exact point in the zodiac for approximately 9,000 years. The last time these planets met here, humans were just learning to plant seeds in the ground, just beginning to settle, just starting to dream of something beyond survival.
What are we being asked to seed now?
The eclipse on the 17th—just three days before the conjunction—comes through in Aquarius, square to Uranus (one of the rulers of Aquarius). It’s a lightning bolt, a revelation, the moment when something you’ve known in your bones finally becomes undeniable. Once seen, it cannot be unseen. Once known, it cannot be unknown. Once opened, it cannot be closed.
And then, as if to underscore the message, another eclipse arrives on March 3rd in Virgo, asking us to integrate, to refine, to bring the vision into the daily practice of living. To put it all in service.
Meanwhile, the Fire Horse—arriving on the exact same day as the first eclipse—brings an energy of momentum, courage, and the kind of action that doesn’t wait for permission. In Chinese astrology, this combination only appears once every 60 years. The last Fire Horse year was 1966, when revolutions were sparked and old orders began to crumble.
What Your Nervous System Needs Right Now
These transits are intense. Your body knows it. Your nervous system is probably screaming it.
This is not the time to push through or pretend you’re fine when you’re not. This is the time to become exquisitely tender with yourself, to treat your body like the sacred vessel it is.
Ground. Get your bare feet on the earth. Let gravity hold you. Let the soil receive whatever you need to release.
Meditate. Even five minutes of sitting with your breath tells your nervous system: we’re safe, we can be present, we can hold this.
Cook a nourishing meal. Slowly. Connect with your senses. Delight in the flavors and the textures. Enjoy the sense of satiety.
Detox. Not just your body—your calendar, your commitments, your phone, your thoughts, your emotions. What can you release? What’s taking up space that no longer serves?
Stay open. The temptation will be to contract, to armor up. Resist it. Stay soft where you can. Stay curious. Stay connected.
Hug people you trust. Physical touch with safe humans regulates your nervous system in ways nothing else can. Let yourself be held.
The Sacred Work of Letting Go
Here’s what I know after three decades on this path: real transformation requires space. You cannot call in the new while clinging to the old. While being clogged up by unprocessed things.
Look within. What old structures are you carrying? What patterns have you outgrown? What identities are you defending that no longer fit? What emotions are unprocessed, and act as toxicity? What dreams are you holding onto that have gone cold, that aren’t truly yours, that you’re only keeping because you invested so much in them?
Let them go.
Not with violence or force, but with tenderness. Thank them for what they were. Honor the part of you that needed them once. And then—gently, ceremonially—release them.
This creates the space. Sacred space. Empty space. Fertile space.
The space where something new can be born.
The Sleep You Didn’t Know You Needed
Good sleep is not optional right now.
When you sleep—especially during REM sleep—your brain processes emotional memories, stripping them of their sharpest edges and filing them away. It’s how you integrate experiences without being overwhelmed by them. It’s how you metabolize change.
Without adequate sleep, your amygdala (the fear center) goes into overdrive while your prefrontal cortex (the part that helps you regulate) goes offline. In other words: you become more reactive, more emotional, less able to see clearly.
These cosmic shifts are asking you to process more than usual. Your brain needs the night hours to do its sacred work of rewiring, integrating, making sense.
So please: prioritize sleep. Let it be as important as your meditation practice. As non-negotiable as breathing.
A Practice: Making Space for the New
Here’s what I invite you to do in these weeks between the eclipses:
Find a quiet moment. Light a candle if that speaks to you. Burn some incense. Sit somewhere where you feel safe.
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly. Feel yourself breathing.
Ask yourself:
∙ What am I carrying that no longer serves my becoming?
∙ What old story am I ready to release?
∙ What past emotion that I never managed to feel, can I welcome and process right now, allowing it to transform and release the grip it has had on me?
∙ What part of my identity is too small for who I’m becoming?
∙ What dream am I holding onto that has gone cold?
Listen. Don’t force an answer. Just listen. Your body knows.
When something arises, breathe into it. Feel it fully. Then, on an exhale, let it go. Imagine it flowing down through your feet into the earth, where it can be composted, transformed, returned to Source.
Then ask:
∙ What wants to be born through me now?
∙ What vision am I being called toward?
∙ What courage is asking to emerge?
Breathe that in. Let it fill the space you’ve just created.
Close with gratitude. For your courage. For your willingness. For your tender, brave, beautiful heart.
It All Comes Back to Love
In all my years of study—of psychology, of spiritual traditions, of the stars—here’s what I keep coming back to: transformation is an act of love.
Letting go is an act of love.
Making space is an act of love.
Showing up for your own becoming is an act of love.
These transits aren’t asking you to be perfect. They’re asking you to be real. To be brave enough to shed what no longer fits. To trust that what’s emerging is worth the discomfort of the becoming.
The Fire Horse gallops not toward some distant future, but toward the truth of who you’ve always been beneath all the layers you’ve accumulated.
The eclipses help us release old masks and illuminate what’s ready to be seen.
The Saturn-Neptune conjunction asks: what if the dream and the reality could be the same thing?
And your only job—your sacred, simple, profound job—is to stay grounded, stay open, stay tender with yourself, and trust the process.
You’re not falling apart. You’re falling into place.
Remember: this isn’t just happening in the sky. It’s happening in you. In your body, in your relationships, in your work, in your way of being in the world. Be gentle with yourself. The caterpillar doesn’t know it’s becoming a butterfly—it just knows everything it thought was solid is dissolving. Trust the chrysalis. Trust the transformation. Trust yourself.
With deep love and steady presence,
Rita
