The Heroine's Journey ("One of the Greats" by Florence + the Machine)

For the past few years, I've created a pair of playlists every year. One is the vibe of the year, which is based on the energy I'm sensing around New Year's and add to it as I find songs that fit that energy; the other is my "Jess is Awesome!" playlist, which I've made for my birthday every year for the past four years. While the Vibe of the Year usually grows as the year progresses, I make an effort to choose about 10-15 songs for my birthday playlist to encapsulate the moment. To some extent, it captures my mood at the time of creation. For example, "Volume 2: In My Feels" featured "Desert Song" by MCR, "Stronger" by Hanson, and "Jenny, You're Barely Alive" by Rilo Kiley - clearly, I was going through something. Volume 3, in contrast, featured songs like "Golden" by Huntr/x, "In My Blood" by Shawn Mendes, and "Across the Universe" by the Beatles. One of the themes for that year was "Dying Star," which still feels like taking a deep breath of air when I listen to it. The first year was mostly songs that capture my essence, including my namesake, "Jessica" by the Allman Brothers. 

There are some eccentric and unofficial rules around the "Jess is awesome!" playlist. The first is that there's usually a theme song I choose (sometimes two, if I'm feeling especially Gemini Rising). The second - and this seems to be unintentional - but there must always be one Hanson song. Luckily, they have a pretty sizeable repertoire. And third - it's not going to change after July 6th, so the songs must be selected with intention. I was struggling a bit with composing the playlist this year. but I finally put it together a couple of days before my birthday, in a fit of inspiration. Right in the nick of time. For this year, the songs are largely aspirational and motivational - the attitude and perspective I would like to embody (or am embodying) as well as ideas I would like to bring into my life this year. As you may have guessed by the title of this post, "One of the Greats" is my theme for my 39th revolution around the Sun.

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I've been pre-occupied with this idea of greatness. Or, more precisely, this intense introspection into whether or not I'm doing what I was put on this planet to do. More often than not, the answer feels like a resounding "No!" Don't get me wrong - I am really good at my mundane job. And I could probably keep climbing up the ladder indefinitely....but do I want to? True, it keeps me busy - my days are a whirlwind of bullshit that keeps me spinning from task to task. Occasionally, it gets interesting. I'm proud of the things I've accomplished. I like the people I work with (for the most part). And I love the financial stability - arguably the best part of the job (and most mundane jobs) is the salary. That being said - if I won the lottery tomorrow, I'd be out of there in a heartbeat. It's a means to an end.

The harsh reality is that purpose is pursued in the dim light of early mornings and the darkness after bedtime hugs. It's built in the span of a couple free hours on weekends and on breaks during the work day. Often it feels like toiling with no outcome - there is only The Work. Often, there is no tangible reward so you must learn to love the process. It's about the journey and not the destination. And even then, even if you love it, you can burn yourself out from the disappointment. It takes discipline and devotion, when you have nothing left to give. At which point, you just start digging out the bottom of a dry well. In theory, that's where the good stuff is anyway.

In the past - and even now - I struggle with wondering if I'm wasting my time on this. I'm no good at this writing thing, so I should give up. There's no money in it, there's too much competition, everyone is writing something - what more could I have to offer? It used to make me quite depressed and - as the huge blank spaces in the timeline of this blog can attest - unmotivated to write anything, even when I'm overflowing with inspiration. But lately, there's this little voice inside saying, "Who gives a shit?" And instead of scrolling another hour when I get those thoughts, I've been coming here or to my Scrivener projects or to one of my many notebooks....and doing the work. My mind has been so loud this year. And there's really only one way to quiet it. 

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There are some songs I wish I could just shoot into my veins, they are so thoroughly in my blood when I hear them. This latest album from Florence perfectly captures where I am right now. Her albums often do that.  I think it's because we're so close in age (she was born in 1986, about 10 months before me), so we're going through a lot of the same milestones at the same time. That's why I originally wanted to write a 33 1/3 book about "Ceremonials" - in my 20s, it perfectly encapsulated where I was on my journey. Recently, I realized I don't resonate with it as much anymore. Maybe I've overheard the songs too much, or maybe I just have the latest album to compare the feeling to. I still love it but in a different way. The songs on "Everybody Scream" speak of overcoming loss and grief, and I've been through a bit of that in recent years. Florence experienced a miscarriage due to an ectopic pregnancy prior to writing "Everybody Scream." She nearly died herself. I cannot begin to tell you how devastating pregnancy trauma can be. And though I haven't experienced a miscarriage myself, others in my family have gone through the pain of losing children they desperately wanted. It leaves a scar. My heart goes out to her. Art often exists as a byproduct of healing these deep, soul-sucking wounds. I want you to keep that in mind as new technology brings up questions of what the purpose of art is, who gets to be creative, the importance of the creative process, and what is art anyway. Be prepared - we are about to go on a long journey through the lyrics of "One of the Greats." 

I crawled up from under the earth

Broken nails and coughing dirt

Spitting out my songs so you could sing along, oh

And with each bedraggled breath, I knew I came back from the dead

To show you how it's done, to show you what it takes

To conquer and to crucify, to become one of the greats

One of the greats

The first verse begins where many stories do - at the end. She went through a Death. This may have been her miscarriage story - in your story, it could be a loss of identity brought about by any number of things - and yet, in spite of that Death, she has to carry on. There are expectations, responsibilities, contracts she needs to fulfill. The show must go on, regardless of how she's feeling. Regardless of what she is going through. That's what it takes to be one of the greats - you keep going, even when you have nothing left in you. Yes, we state the underlying lesson at the beginning, because that's how you tell a story. The conflict and the lesson are usually co-present at the start, albeit dressed in poetic drapery. 

I kept a scream inside my chest, killed everyone I'd ever kissed

Hung them on the wall like trophies, each name, a stain upon my lips

I told the truth but could never see it through

You see yourself hung on the wall but that song is not about you

I wrote down all my fumbling visions transmitted by a television

Got everything I thought I wanted and cried hungover in a hotel closet

This is, arguably, my favorite verse. It's about the creative process. One of the most amazing things about Florence is that she's very soft-spoken in interviews - at the concert we went to in May, when she would talk to the audience, she sounded so quiet and delicate. But, man, when she sang, she filled the arena. It was amazing to behold. I find that's true about a lot of artists - even myself, at times. When I was acting, I was often told it was "scary" how I could transform into the characters. I became a different person on the stage and then morph back into this quiet, shy girl when rehearsal was over. This is the magic of the creative process - it draws something out of us when we don't feel like we're able to express it in other ways. When we don't feel like we can scream, even though the emotions we're feeling are bursting out of our chest. "I told the truth but could never see it through/You see yourself hung on the wall but that song is not about you." I found myself ruminating deeply on this lyric during my daily commute this summer. It reminds me of Anne Lamott's writing advice (which I'll paraphrase) - tell the truth but change the names....for legal reasons.

What I've realized lately is The Movie Star - or The Journalist or The Poet or The Exorcist or whatever stupid name I give people to explain their place in my story - they're all just characters in my performance. They're shadows at best. The Muse has always been me. These voices in my head are mine alone. The magic flows from my thoughts and ideas, regardless of what's happening in my life. Art is a process. You hear a song or read a book, and we think it's about a certain person in the artist's life, but it's not! It's about their experience. It's about them. A prime example of this is Taylor Swift - we point to lyrics and scream it's about Jake Gyllenhaal or Joe Alwyn, but no! All her songs are about her experience, her feelings, her fears and aspirations and troubles. Except "Wood" - I'm 99% sure that's about her husband's cock. Weird choice to put on an album but I'll allow it. I'm sure I've written spicier stuff so I've no place to judge.

Did I get it right? Do I win the prize?

Do you regret bringing me back to life?

Arms outstretched, back from the dead

Streetlights bursting overhead

Arms outstretched, back from the dead

Streetlights bursting overhead

I did my best, tried to impress, my childhood dream made flesh

And my dresses and my flowering sadness, so like a woman to profit from her madness

I was only beautiful under the lights, only powerful there

Burned down at thirty-six

Why did you dig me up for this?

Moving on. They - and by they, I mean the earth-bound ancestors who have written books about writing and the creative process - say that you start putting out the best work when you don't care anymore. When you're not trying to win anything. When you don't care about the views or the money. When you've scraped the bottom of your grief and have come up empty. When you're doing it just for yourself - that's when the magic becomes unbound. I wonder if I've gotten to that point yet. Or is this the same old drivel I've always written? If it is, do I care? I paused to consider it just now and all I felt was silence. I guess that's as clear a "no" as any. The truth is I wish I could profit from my madness - I think we all do - but even if I never make a dime from my writing, I'll still be doing it. I'm burned out from trying so hard, from being so aware of what I'm putting out there - hoping it's good, hoping it's worth reading, hoping it won't be misconstrued or misinterpreted. The expectations are overwhelming, when it feels like so much of what I'm writing is just screaming into the void. And that's where I am right now - the Void. Nobody can hear me scream here, so why am I doing it? The best answer I've got is I just gotta do it. 

You'll bury me again, you'll say it's all pretend

That I could never be great being held up against such male tastes

'Cause who really gets to be one of the greats, one of the greats?

But I've really done it this time, this one is all mine

I'll be up there with the man and the ten other women

And the hundred greatest records of all time

It must be nice to be a man and make boring music just because you can

Now don't get me wrong, I'm a fan

You're my second favorite frontman

And you could have me if you weren't so afraid of me

It's funny how men don't find power very sexy

So this one's for the ladies

Do I drive you crazy?

Did I get it right?

Easily one of the best bridges I've ever heard. Because who really gets to decide who becomes one of the greats? Historically, it's been men. That's not just me being radically feminist (even if I am) - every day seems to unearth another woman whose contributions to the world have been forgotten or overshadowed or even stolen by the men she worked with. The truth is, women often feel they need to be extraordinary just to hold on to what they have, because the bar is set too high in order to keep them down. I've seen it myself, being in a heavily male-dominated industry. The assumption I've most encountered in my career is I'm too timid to be a leader. And I'm not - I've shown time and time again I am outspoken and smart and have good ideas, sometimes better ideas than my male counterparts. The people I work with closely learn this pretty quick, but it's always the men (and occasionally women) two or three levels above me who have developed this false impression of who I am. That starting assumption is difficult to overcome. Recently, I've realized I've been taking on a lot of extra work at my job and the underlying reason has been to prove I'm worthy of a promotion. But I know I'm worthy of a director-level position. In many cases, I've been doing work my own managers should've been doing, advocating for things my leadership should've already been planning for - and I'm tired of burning myself out for people who have already made up their mind about me.

But the flip side of that coin is being a capable and intelligent woman means that the men you encounter who recognize your brilliance are often intimidated or even afraid of you. If I had a dollar for every man who said I scared them, I'd probably have like $10. Which doesn't sound like much but, psychologically, it takes a toll. Most women's response to this fear - including my younger self - is to make themselves smaller so others feel comfortable and safe. Dimming their light to be less frightening. Even in romantic relationships, many women worry about things like being the breadwinner or letting potential partners win at competitive games so they don't damage a fragile ego. After nearly four decades of living the female experience, I can tell you this isn't the way to go. You deserve to be seen for how beautiful and amazing you are - and if that scares some people away, the Universe is doing you a favor. It's trying to save you from the heartache of losing yourself, which is way more painful than any breakup or lost promotion could ever be. 

Side note - and this absolutely will come up in the future - I love the lyric "you're my second favorite frontman." It always makes me wonder who she's talking about. I've decided it's Dave Matthews. I know I'm probably 100% wrong but it's way funnier than whoever she's actually singing about. It is now official lore. I declare it.

There are many other things I love about this song. The supernatural elements of Florence's work always excites my witchy spirit. I love the symbolism of Death and Rebirth, because Life is just a continuous cycle of Death and Rebirth. It goes without saying but I highly recommend checking out "Everybody Scream." I have quite a few favorites from this album, all of which I plan to write about throughout the rest of this year. I have the posts brewing already.

Thanks for reading my friends. If you feel called to comment, here's your question: What are you creating today?

"One of the Greats" Music Video

250 Years Young ("I'm America" by Cilver)

"If you want to hate America, watch the news; if you want to love America, drive through it." That's how a German World Cup fan described his experience while visiting for the games, repurposing a viral Instagram proverb to fit the moment. It strikes a chord that rings true. I love this country. I don't claim the term "patriot," because it's been co-opted and bastardized by the worst of us. However, I've always had faith in the people and the vision. 

My favorite thing about this country- and arguably, the best thing -  is its diversity.  As a people, we are avid consumers and connoisseurs of what the world has to offer. And the amalgamation all the best parts of the world is quintessential to who we are as a nation. That's the vision of America - the whole is so much greater than the sum of its parts. In my opinion, you can't tell who is an American by a person's race, creed, sexuality, accent, or any of the other different boxes people use to make sense of the world. To love America is to love it's people - all of its people. 

Everybody listen to me

I never thought I'd get this far my own

It's just as hard as it seems

No one can say, no one, no one knows

"I'm America" is one of the songs I picked for my "Vibe for 2026" playlist, which has evolved into mostly a list of great protest and resistance music that has come out in past years. Cilver put this song out in 2016. In the words of Uliana Preotu, Cilver's vocalist, they wanted to put out a song to that was hopeful during a time when the world was tumultuous and people were angry and frustrated (albeit less so than the last few years). Preotu is a Romanian immigrant and "I'm America" is about her experience emigrating to the United States. It's a song about the sacrifices immigrants make to get here, her own struggles getting by with limited English fluency, and ultimately, about the greatness of the country who welcomed her in.

Happy Independence Day

"I'm America" Lyric Video

We're All Mad Here ("Where is my mind?" by Safari Riot feat. Grayson Sanders - Pixies Cover)

In case you haven't noticed, we're in the "find out" stage of fucking around. It's the end of the world as we know it - and I feel strangely fine. Since Uranus moved into Gemini, I've felt a new energy. Then I remember I'm a Gemini rising. These are the times I'm built for. Yes, the transit through Taurus sucked. I've beat that dead horse enough. This year, I've had this underlying fear - I was really anxious about the state of the world and a bit scared of the change coming. However, since the end of April, my attitude has flipped. Fuck it, let it all blow up. Like the ending of "Fight Club." I'll get through it - heck, I might even be thriving by the end. 

I've told my coworkers and my friends numerous times - I'm having a really hard time taking any of this seriously anymore. And at the same time, I care even more deeply than I ever did before. It's paradoxical. The Astrology Podcast always has these fantastic phrases for different transits and in their annual forecast for 2026, I remember Austin Coppock describing the March-April-May timeframe as "deadly unserious." Perfect description. We are living in dangerously unserious times. This is going to be a long one so I invite you to follow me down the rabbit hole.

Revisiting My Embodiment Era ("Francesca" by Hozier)

Now that we're now finally and truly out of it, I'm taking a brief look at how the Uranus in Taurus transit manifested in my life. For better or worse, astrology is best understood in the rear view. It's hard to properly assess exactly how a transit impact your life until it's over and you can see the full arc of the story. Adam Elenbaas of Nightlight astrology mentioned during his latest video about Uranus in Gemini about how, as it transits through a sign, Uranus tends to amplify the themes of the ruling planet. If we apply this idea to Uranus in Taurus, the areas of life Venus rules over - relationships, beauty, art, finances, pleasure - would've become more prominent. And for some reason, something clicked for me. One of the things I realized early on in the transit through Taurus of how I abandoned a lot of the things I enjoyed.

Our trek through Uranus in Taurus started 8 years ago today, on 15 May 2018. I remember that day, surprisingly enough. Okay, maybe not the full day but I remember what was happening that week. I had recently been promoted to team lead of my section, so I was starting a new period in my career. I had gotten a pretty nice raise, which allowed me to fully become the breadwinner for my family. We unexpectedly became a single income household, so that was also around the time we took my oldest out of daycare because it was an unnecessary expense. In hindsight, a lot was happening and it laid the foundation of where I am today. That amazing raise I got? I make more than twice that amount now. The promotion? It set me up to get the certifications and skills that eventually got me hired at my current employer. COVID didn't affect us as much as other families because we already had a stay-at-home parent. I'm extremely grateful now but I'd be lying if all this change didn't come with a lot of inner turmoil. This transit was moving through my 12th House (House of Self-Undoing) and I definitely went through it. Psychologically, probably one of my darkest periods - and I have plenty of morbid, angsty poetry to prove it. 

Understanding transits at a basic level is pretty simple. You take the planet's significations and cross it with the zodiac sign's characteristics, and you'll have a good idea about what sort of stuff to expect. To narrow it down more or to better understand how it might affect you personally, you look at what House the transit falls in for a specific event/natal chart and add on the House significations. Uranus is the planet of unexpected change, revelations, insights, and revolutions. I gave a basic overview of Taurus themes above. For me, a Gemini rising, this transit fell in my 12th House, which signifies the subconscious mind, intuition, spirituality, isolation, dreams, and hidden enemies. To find out what this transit may have impacted for you, look at your natal chart and find the House the sign, Taurus, falls in.

Here are a few of the big lessons I learned while Uranus tore a path through my 12th House:

• Your value is Intrinsic. 

I think this is especially difficult for Cancer and Libra (and to some extent, Pisces) because those two signs are particularly focused on close relationships. Cancer is focused on family (motherhood in particular) and Libra is often associated with partnerships and marriage. As such, it can be instinctual to yoke your value to what you are for other people. For a couple years, I lost myself. I filled my days with all the things needed to sustain my family and my career and in the process, I dropped a lot of the things I used to love. I stopped reading as much. My spiritual practice had faded to nonexistence. I exercised but not as frequently as I would've liked. Uranus in Aries was go, go, go! And when I had a chance to stop and look in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. So when I encountered narcissists and other selfish monsters in real life, my assumption was I was the problem. I wasn't providing enough value to them to be worthy of decent treatment. It's taken 8 years but I finally understand - you're always worthy. And how people treat you is more a reflection about how they feel about themselves rather than what you deserve.

• Ground in your own unique vision of Motherhood.

During this transit, I experienced a lot of firsts in motherhood and I also became a mother again, when I had my second child during COVID. As I've written about before, my relationship with my mother when I was growing up left a lot to be desired. It left a lot of insecurities about motherhood - whether I would be a good mom, if I could control my moody nature and quick temper, whether I could raise a family while working a full 40 hours (or more) a week. And, in the throes of postpartum depression, I struggled with believing I could take care of two children when I could barely care for myself. I remember when I got home from the hospital after giving birth. My dad had bought me my favorite takeout meal - Tofu Pad Thai - and while eating it on the couch, I broke down in tears. The only person who noticed was my oldest. He's such a sweet, thoughtful kid and he did the right thing - instead of dealing with it himself, he got my husband, who put away my food and helped me into bed. After that, I had to breathe and take a step back to see the larger picture. Like all things, you must have a vision for the type of parent you want to be - or rather, the type of parent you want your children to remember. This is your anchor - and when you're caught up in the moment, this is what grounds you. I don't want my children to have to cope with an emotionally volatile mother. I've been there....it's not fun. Children need that Taurean energy - solid, dependable, practical, nourishing - in order to grow.

• Treat Yo'self.

I personally describe myself as rather frugal. I've always been money conscious and concerned about financial stability. Being unable to support my family is a big fear of mine, one that has grown with my income. And that probably won't change. What has changed is how I approach it. As it happens, the 12th House is also a place of hidden fears so when Uranus drops in, you may be forced to change how you face those fears. Up until the past few years, I wouldn't spend money on myself. I'd be generous with others (I'm a great gift giver) but it felt selfish and wrong to waste resources on anything as frivolous as my own desires. As I've succeeded in my career this past decade, I've come to see the gradual ascent into affluence as a permission slip from the Universe that it's okay to buy myself a little treat once in a while. Don't buy out the whole bookstore, but a paperback or two (and a coffee to sip while you browse) is okay. Hardcover books with sprayed edges won't break the bank and neither will mid-priced luxury skincare. Order what you want, not the cheapest item on the menu. For a sensory experience, some people get interested in wine or whisky - I started collecting perfumes, among other pretty things. And while I still stash away quite a bit of my paycheck for a rainy day, I've gotten out of the habit of denying myself life's little pleasures. Because you can't take it with you.

• Get out of your head (and into your body). 

I'm coming up on my 5-year Pole-versary in June. It's hard to believe it's been that long - I thought I'd be better at it by now. Objectively, I am - I can do things I couldn't have even conceived of 5 years ago. But I can't do a handstand without pole support. Ballerina is still a flexibility nightmare I dread every class. One side is a bit more wonky than the other and, after injuring my shoulder last year, there are some intermediate moves that have become an unexpected struggle. But I did graduate to the "Advanced" class (and I'm moderately successful, most of the time). I've gotten better at slowing down and flowing with the music during my freestyles. More than once this year, the pole coaches have commented on how strong I am, which is not a word I would've used to describe my physique before I started. After five years, I still love the community and the art form. And I'm happier. Even when I'm not in the mood or it's after work and I'm tired, I never regret going to class. It's become my outlet for all the frustration that builds up from the pandemonium of modern life. For 1 to 2 hours, I'm solely focused on what crazy trick I'm trying to get my body to do. I'm not thinking about work, I'm not worried about politics, I'm not even formulating what I want to write next. I'm just dancing. That's all I need to do. I cannot overstate the value of taking a mental break and indulging in the pure magic of movement. 

• It's the work that's sacred.

My spiritual journey has deepened to the point where I actively call myself a Seeker. It a moniker one of my favorite authors, Mitch Horowitz, has adopted to describe his adventures in occultism and esoterica. Within the witchcraft and occult communities, it's easy to get caught up on the aesthetics and titles. Putting together a pretty altar layout or witchy outfit is the fun part. Being anointed (by yourself or others) as High Priestess is an honor. But these things may be the results, but they're not the goal. No - the magic comes during the meditation session you didn't want to do because you're too busy. It's when a theosophical concept makes sense have reading your 3rd or 4th book about the subject. When you're doing tarot reading for the group commander and your interpretation leads to him opening up about an ordeal he's going through. It's found in every "oh my god....astrology is real" moment. You can't experience these things - the High Strangeness and the synchronistic breadcrumbs - if you don't do them. In the past 8 years, I've learned that telepathy is real (but you need to be on the same wavelength); wishes do come true (but maybe not in the way you expect); and the Universe is always willing to point you in the right direction (if you want to listen). It's the work that's sacred in all crafts. If I had a dime for every writing book I read reiterating "trust the process," I'd have a whole lotta dimes. But that doesn't make it any less true. Do the work, the rest will follow.

• You can do it alone (but you don't have to). 

For a sign ruled by Venus, Taurus is surprisingly independent. This sign is also known to be a hard worker. And Taurus is considered one of the more stubborn zodiac signs. Not a great combination - it's big "I'll do it my-fucking-self" energy, almost to the detriment of Taurus natives. And - as I learned - having that energy ruling over the House governing mental health was a problem. I have a degree in Psychology and for a long time, my approach was I'm able to handle this stuff - depression, anxiety, cyclothymia, disordered eating, etc - by myself. And, for the most part, I was able to handle it myself. Then the dam broke and I was drowning in darkness. It didn't get better until I made the choice to reach out to somebody for help. I think eventually I would've been able to make it through - but it would've taken longer, it would've been harder, and I don't know if I'd be as strong as I am today. One of the key things I learned about myself during COVID is I like being around people. It's one of the big reasons I'm not desperate for a WFH job - I need human interaction for my happiness. I'm not a true introvert, I never have been. And while I can do many things on my own - write, pole, work, cook - it feels better to have people around. People you can trust to pull you out when you start floundering.

• Don't let life kill your voice.

I started out this transit so hopeful and inspired. You can even see it in this blog - I wrote frequently and the whole vibe of what I was conveying shifted. I can barely believe the posts written when I first started this blog in 2011 were written by the same person writing this post today. My voice seemed so strong - and then somewhere around 2020, it just died. There was nothing in the well and it became so hard to create. And what I was able to pull up from the abyss was terrifying. I remember taking my daily constitutional one day in the middle of COVID (when we had rotating in-person weeks). I was 3 or 4 months pregnant and I passed an old military hotel with a metal ladder going up to the roof. I looked up at this building, which I had seen countless times before, and thought, "I should jump." I didn't, of course - and I wish that had been the extent of my intrusive thoughts - but in retrospect, it was pretty tame in comparison to the other stuff going on inside of my head. 

Eventually, after I broke down in front of my OB/GYN during my 6-week postnatal appointment, I started going to therapy. I told my therapist, BW, that when I went through a similar dark spot in college, during my mom's manic episode, I would have this desire to go outside and scream. And she asked, "Why didn't you?" The answer was....it felt silly and childish. And I didn't want to scare anyone if they heard it. I also doubted anyone would care. I silenced myself. A pattern I'm familiar with, from hiding in closets and playing small to not attract unwanted attention. As a rule, I'm very guarded with what I share with others. It's a protective mechanism - my suffering is no one's business but my own. My own burden to bear and so I did. BW's advice was to scream in the car or to sing really loud. It helps, on occasion. Not as much as talking to someone. Or writing. Getting the thoughts out helps better ones flow in. The normal state of my mind is constant chatter, ideas squirming in the white space of my days, as if the words want to leech out of my skin and orifices. It's chaos, but it's my chaos. 

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I adore this song, from the opening line, all the way to the madrigal chorus at the end. It's about Love, it's about embodiment, it's about indulging in pleasure in spite of the consequences - all of which I felt fitting as a summation of Uranus in Taurus. When you go into an experience which brings you happiness, you don't always know how it will end. Often, the ending is sad. Or even downright tragic, as we'll learn from what happened to Francesca. The accompaniment of this song feels all-consuming and by the end, it envelopes you in a sea of angelic sound. It's beautiful and quintessentially Venusian, in my opinion.

Do you think I'd give up

That this might've shook the love from me

Or that I was on the brink?

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

However, it's never just the song - although it is a masterpiece - but the story behind the song. Y'all know I'm a sucker for a great doomed romance. I present for your consideration the tale of Paulo and Francesca. For those of you who aren't read up on your obscure Italian history, Paulo and Francesca were real people. In a nutshell, Francesca was married to Paulo's brother, Giuseppe, as part of a political alliance. They fell in love and carried on an affair that lasted 10 years, until Giuseppe discovered them in bed and murdered them both. With a sword, which Francesca tried to block, according to some stories. Quite violent, so much blood. The lovers were featured prominently in Dante's Inferno, which is where Hozier draws his inspiration for the lyrics. If you've ever read Inferno, it's essentially Dante Alighieri's Burn Book. In it, he drags dozens of historical Italian figures, not least of which are those who were his critics in life. Paulo and Francesca, obviously, can be found in the third circle of Hell, which is reserved for adulterers. Their fate is to be blown about by tempests, as they were blown about in life by their passions (the metaphors are thick in the Underworld). For eternity, they must fight gusts of wind to find their way back to each other, only to be forced apart again. But hey, at least they get to hold each other for a precious moment. As you can guess, the song is from Paulo's point of view and that's exactly what he's saying. He has no regrets, even though it ended as it did, and if given the chance, he'd do it all over again. And if he could just hold her again for a minute, he'll endure whatever torture the afterlife has in store.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

When the heart would cease

Ours never knew peace

What good would it be on the far side of things?

Side note - I always hear the first line as "Think I give a hoot?" rather than "Think I'd give up?" I don't know why. It certainly doesn't fit the renaissance-theme of the whole piece. Maybe it's because I'm aggressively Americanized. I prefer the tale of the Hatfields and the McCoys over Romeo & Juliet. I can imagine our storybook lover - we'll call him Paul - telling the story of his true love (Franny) outside his cabin in Appalachia. Is it worth it to experience transcendent love in this lifetime, even if only for a moment, even if it would destroy you? Old Paul (speaking through Hozier's immortal voice) screams an unambivalent "Yes! Always! Every time!" into the foggy, forested mountains. He doesn't give a hoot! He'd do it again in a heartbeat - faster, harder, more fully than he did the first time! Thus spake the doomed lover forevermore. Uff-da, I got carried away again....

Though I know my heart would break

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah

When I started this post, I was solidly in my Hozier era. Still am, though less so - we've got some Florence thrown in for good measure. I've collected a couple poetry books, I listen to "Too Sweet" frequently (though not on repeat anymore), and I'm letting my hair grow out questionably long (again). We're in fairytale princess/bog witch territory now - that's how long my hair is. It's giving mermaid. Nay, it's giving hauntingly beautiful yet bloodthirsty siren floating of the coast of Sicily, awaiting unsuspecting young sailors whom I plan to lure to their watery doom. My apologies - this post ended up a bit rambling but I think I've said everything I wanted to say. Please enjoy "Francesca" by Hozier. Video below.

"Francesca" Video

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I would like to take a moment to honor the life of Gordon White, who died this past Tuesday. Gordon played an early role in my Uranus in Taurus journey. I re-read "The Chaos Protocols"; I bonded with an old friend over being mutual listeners of his podcast, Rune Soup; and I got into the semiannual ritual of listening to his half-year astrology forecasts with Austin Coppock. Even though I started listening to Rune Soup less over the years, especially after Gordon started going down the "plandemic" road, I still looked forward to those forecasts. I'm saddened that there won't be an H2 2026 episode. At least, not one with Gordon's unique spin on things. I may have disagreed with some of his more recent views, but I enjoyed his insights on magical and occult topics. He brought so many people together and provided a space for many Seekers. I will forever hold close to my heart his guidance to "find the others." May your ancestors greet you, Gordon, as you go on to the next great adventure.

In Case You're Wondering...("I'm Doing Fine" by Marino)

 Where has this year gone? Time is weird. It seems like 2025 crawled all the way to the finish line and now 2026 is hurtling us at light speed towards....something. Who knows what. A lot is happening. Work is busy and more draining than usual. Everyone's on edge, including me. I've been fighting cynicism and nihilism, just like the best of 'em. I'm taking a cue from some old friends - the Stoics - and learning how to "love my Fate" through the study of ancient Hellenistic astrology. Yet again allowing the music of the spheres to connect the disjointed phases of my life and trying to find meaning in the chaos without getting too spun up about it. Just working my way through the Wheel of Time. The book series, I mean, not philosophically. There's 14 books in the series so I figure that'll keep my mind busy for a while. And then I'll move on to the Discworld novels or the Stormlight Archive. Probably both. Eventually, both.

If you got inside my head, you'd see

There's no point in going to therapy

'least that's what I tell myself 'cause I don't need

Another purchase added to my monthly fees

Most of my writing has been offline. A lot of journaling, writing exercises, and outlining/world-building. I wanted to talk through my playlist of the year, because this is by far the best year for it. I think I still will, I just need to build up the momentum. I'm in a slump, but not in a slump. Maybe it's more like I'm in a shadow - and the issue isn't that I'm afraid of publicly writing what I think, I just don't think it matters anymore. In a way, that's a more dangerous thought. That's true nihilism. It's not dark and edgy, the things we do are just pointless and don't mean anything to anyone. I suppose that's where existentialism comes in - we create our own meaning for the things we do, we create our own "why." On the best of days, the idea feels empowering to me. On days - or months (or years) - where I'm going through the motions, it feels like it's one more thing to do. 

Am I really fine, or am I just really good at lying?

I don't really know, lately, I've been on autopilot in my mind

Keeps me awake, every single night, I stay up late

I don't know how to sleep whеn I'm overthinking every littlе thing

Going back to the subject of time, I've been ruminating more on its slipperiness. The inconsistency of how our minds perceive it. I work with air-gapped networks and they all run off their own internal time-source. Some are more accurate than others. I don't wear a watch, so I often find myself in situations where I'm relying on computer screens or old-school analogs clocks to check the time. More than once this year, I've seen the time on a clock or a screen, panicked because I thought I was late to my next meeting, only to arrive five minutes early. It's disorienting. More often than not lately, I'm wishing for more time or to slow time down. But, in my experience, the only way to effectively slow time down is to be fully in the moment, like in meditation. Once your mind wanders, time starts flowing again. Only in rare moments have I experienced suspended animation during something I'm enjoying. Even rarer, still, is to experience it in the presence of another person.

Alright, okay, sun keeps coming up each day

See it through my window shades, it's alright

Just passing time, I'll watch it fade, can't do too much anyways

In a small town, hid away, I'm doing fine

I don't remember how I came across this song, only that it's upbeat guitar strumming sucked me in and the lyrics kept me there. It's a relatively short song - not even two minutes - but it encapsulates a bit of what I'm seeing with everyone this year. We're all very compartmentalized. There's this knowledge that something is very wrong but there's a pervasive sense of powerlessness. Jaded is probably the best way to describe it. And everyone - including myself - seems to be so focused on the next thing in front of us. Get a job, go to work, pay that bill, rinse, repeat. So much is happening and yet nothing is happening. I'd say we're all zombies but at least zombies feel hunger. I'm starting to shake myself out of this stupor, though. I want more. So much more. I want more meaning, more action, more passion, more excitement, more joy, more whimsy....more - dare I say it? - Hope. Is this what they meant by it being the Year of the Fire Horse? I feel this collective energy building, like a rocket or a geyser. At any moment, we're all going to blink and land in a whole new reality. The only question is - when?

With that in mind, I'm trying to frame the current doldrums as a period of rest. The calm before the shift. Alright, okay, Sun keeps coming up each day. I'm doing fine. I'm still alive, so I'm doing fine.

"I'm Doing Fine" Video

--------------------------------

I wanted to do a few mentions of things I'm loving right now. To keep myself from listening to news podcasts (which is not at all good for my mental health), I'm listening to more audiobooks. I like biographies, especially when they are read by the author. Recently, I finished listening to "The Vegas Diaries" by Holly Madison. It's quite fun and almost like listening to the "Girls Next Level" podcast. While some of her wording choices felt a bit trite and many of the metaphors predictable, I like her approachable writing style. It feels like she's telling her story to a friend rather than a flat retelling of events that occurred at the time. It's also 2010s nostalgic for me, in a good way.

I also just finished binging "Something Very Bad is Going to Happen" on Netflix. I'm torn between thinking that's a terrible name for a show or if it was a perfect name for what I watched. The show is atmospheric, had beautiful cinematography, amazing pacing, great acting, all the works. Camila Morrone looks fucking gorgeous in like every frame she's in, even when she's covered in blood (sorry, spoilers). It was heavy on the jump scares, which I don't like - but the benefit of watching on Netflix is that you can walk away or hide your face from the screen for a few seconds without the judgement. For me, once I understood where the plot was going, I could kind of predict the end but I think that's more because I was watching from a horror writer's perspective and knew that the story had to end that way (otherwise it doesn't work). Therefore, from my perspective, perfect storytelling, no notes. Because I like spoilers, I tend to read the synopsis/summary of the episodes on Netflix so I know what to expect - for the last episode, it simply says, "Something very bad happens." Very clever, Netflix. Ya got me, I loved it. So yeah - if you love horror (especially the supernatural kind), go watch it. 

Hypernormalisation ("The Suburbs" by Arcade Fire)

This was one of the songs I picked early on for my 2025 playlist. I'm not sure why, but it felt like it fit, and as the year dragged on, it became even more apt to describe the current American landscape. I don't think I've ever featured it...I think I've maybe written on a cover, but never the original. But it seems to strike the right note of...what's the word? Nostalgia? Sort of. Melancholy? A bit. Disillusionment? Bingo.

You always seemed so sure

That one day we'd be fighting

In a suburban war

Your part of town against mine

I saw you standing on the opposite shore

But by the time the first bombs fell

We were already bored

We were already, already bored

Life in 2025 was....weird. And yet, it was also strangely mundane. The images in the news and the descriptions of current events on podcasts were far removed from the everyday happenings of my perfectly curated community. The disparity was - and is - unsettling. Intellectually, I know these things are happening. I know there was a ridiculous (and extralegal) black ops-style raid on an apartment building in Chicago, where children were separated from the parents and zip-tied in the freezing cold. I know people are being kidnapped off the street, outside of churches and schools. Indiscriminately. To include US citizens. I know millions of people are going to be unable to afford health insurance next year. I know there was a totally pointless 43-day government shutdown. I know there's disturbing images and documents being released from the Epstein investigation, the implications of which are stomach-turning. And yet, despite the fragility of current circumstances, it feels as if we're just going to continue on forever in this Black Mirror version of reality. 

Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling again

The term hypernormalisation was created by Alexei Yurchak to describe what life was like in the Soviet Union in the decade prior to the collapse. Everyone knew the system was failing but they couldn't imagine a society different from the one they had - they couldn't dream of a different alternative - so everyone just pretended everything was working as it should. Blatant corruption and abject poverty became the norm, and people just accepted it. This is a common reaction - in 1930s Germany, during the rise of Nazism, things didn't change much in the beginning. In his book, "They Thought They Were Free," Milton Sanford Mayer describes how incremental changes caught non-Nazi Germans unaware. A law here, a speech there - it was all very subtle. Until it wasn't. The idea - more like a naive hope - that ignoring a problem makes it go away is enticing. It requires a lot less work and individual courage. In reality, it just allows the problem to become more insidious. Mostly because at some point, they try to paint these ideas as reasonable. It's all semantics and window dressing. They twist definitions and make unrelated things synonymous. They co-opt pop culture and previously noble policy crusades for their own purposes. I don't think anyone would disagree with making America healthy again but when a distinguished cardiologist who made his fortune off peddling contemporary snake oil (Dr. Oz) tells the working class to throw out centuries of medical progress, that's just another grift. 

Kids wanna be so hard

But in my dreams we're still screamin' and runnin' through the yard

And all of the walls that they built in the seventies finally fall

And all of the houses they built in the seventies finally fall

Meant nothin' at all

Meant nothin' at all

It meant nothin

At the tail end of 2024, I listened to the audiobook of "Conspirituality: How New Age Conspiracy Theories Became a Health Threat." There's been this notable progression of really famous pagan and New Age spiritualists becoming born-again Christians. One of the most famous in recent history is Doreen Virtue, who made her fortune off creating tarot and oracle card decks, as well as dozens of books on New Age subjects. In 2017, she declared her previous New Age beliefs were "demonic" and started marketing herself as a fundamentalist Christian. Coincidentally (or maybe not), this was around the time that pagan practices and witchcraft/occult books became extremely popular and common (i.e., more competition in the market). "Conspirituality" explains how the COVID epidemic resulted in a lot of historically more liberal communities (like yoga, New Age, and alternative medicine) taking a hard right turn in recent years. Having floated in these spaces since the home computer became a thing, I've always noticed it but it never alarmed me as much as it has in recent years. Mostly because it doesn't make sense from my perspective. There is a difference between choosing to believe and participating in a belief system, and then there's throwing out critical thinking entirely. I'm not sure everyone knows where that line is. And I think, as a rule, we expect others we run into within the witchcraft/pagan community to be a little weird (in a good way) and, in an attempt to be welcoming and inclusive, we don't always notice when maybe the weirdness comes from someplace unhealthy.

Sometimes I can't believe it

I'm movin' past the feeling

Sometimes I can't believe it

I'm movin' past the feeling and into the night

There's one last disturbing trend I'd like to call attention to and I'll leave 2025 willingly. Trad wives. And it's not the aesthetic - the aesthetic is quite lovely, which is why it's so popular. It's the malignant undercurrent of misogyny fueling it. And even more infuriating - it's a lie! When you look at the most popular "trad wife" accounts, like Ballerina Farms or Nara Smith, these women are working mothers and (in many cases) the breadwinners for their family. The only difference between them and myself is they have a camera rolling while they do their chores (and they can hire a nanny to mind the children while they cook dinner from scratch). So, we have wealthy, Ivy-league educated business-women telling less privileged young girls to forego an education and a career while they themselves are building up their own safety net. And what naturally follows is a parade of articles of divorced single mothers in their late 30s saying they were wrong about the "trad wife life." It is just the most disgusting scam I've ever seen. I appreciate stay-at-home parents - my own career success has been possible due to having a stay-at-home parent - but this is not what these women are. They cosplay a cottage-core fantasy and peddle nonsense about feminine virtue and living a "soft life" while raking in millions from women who will never attain the level of financial freedom needed to acquire a homestead of their own. They are grifters, they are con-men, just like everyone else on TV.

So can you understand

Why I want a daughter while I'm still young?

I wanna hold her hand

And show her some beauty

Before all this damage is done

But if it's too much to ask, if it's too much to ask

Then send me a son

"The Suburbs" came out in 2010 but I had never seen the music video until this year. The music video, which I thought was disturbing 2025, was probably even more so back then. The music video is made up of clips from the Spike Jonze short film inspired by the album, "Scenes from the Suburbs." The central focus is on a group of teenagers, having fun and doing normal teenager shenanigans. Then, the narrative pulls back and we realize they are in the middle of said suburban war. People are being taken from their homes in the middle of the night, there's gunfire and men in uniform around every corner, a barrier with barbed wire divides the neighborhood. In one scene, Black Hawk helicopter hovers over the city. And these kids are just....living through it. Until one of them is forced into the ranks of the soldiers. It ends with him beating up his friend for some reason. It's a metaphor for the angst of having to grow up....I think. I'm going to be honest - some of the images in this film from 15 years ago feel all to real now.

In my dreams we're still screamin'

We're still screamin'

We're still screamin'

None of this is normal. 

"The Suburbs" Music Video

Press Pause ("Dying Star" by Ashnikko, feat. Ethel Cain)

This year has been exhausting but this last month has taken it to a new level. I've been going through the past several weeks - months - like a zombie, soul-weary and tired. I'm grateful this year is over, not because I think next year will better (on a grand scale, I don't think it will be), but because it means I've survived it. I realize not everyone can say the same. Here at the end of 2025, I'm treading water among the wreckage. I found a door to float on but the turbulence beneath the waves threatens to pull me under. One wrong move and I'm out to sea. I'm taking time off for the next couple weeks. I'm ready for a long-awaited breath of air, where my mind is not fixed on the government or everything everyone is demanding of me from day-to-day. Centered only on what matters. One breath in, one breath out. 

The ground reaches out to catch me

Softly in her baseball mitt

I'm tired of the dirt and grit

I want something soft

I'm a fish in a bucket, thrashing

He tried to take me out, hooks in my mouth

Listen to me when I say ouch

I want something soft

I had a lot of good intentions to write this year, but the clock started and I found myself leeched of creativity. And yet, there were moments....moments when the words flowed and I could hear my characters speaking to me. Or moments when an essay started to form. Maybe only snippets, but they were alive. Their pulse beating in my veins, whispering in my brain. Write it down, Jessica. It doesn't have to mean anything but, damn it, write it down. But I was gripped with this fear. Fear that my words may ruin me. May endanger my loved ones. May be misinterpreted by those who want to misinterpret. As the year pressed on, though, the real fear presented itself. No one cares. No one cares what I shout into the void. We are in a unique, blissfully nihilistic time right now. And I still care way too much. And worse, I want others to care more about me and my hopes and dreams than they do. The real fear is I'm merely another product - another transaction - and, despite my best efforts, I'm a boring one. And even if I write some totally outrageous nonsense, who cares? I am nothing and no one. The words I write are beautifully meaningless and for myself alone. And perhaps there is freedom in that.

Oh, to be an existentialist during such an era! To be reminded daily that I am both predictable and replicable is almost to much to bear. I am painfully aware I haven't written here as much as I've wanted. Every few weeks or so, I'll check my stats on this blog knowing they should be in the gutter because I haven't posted anything new in months, and yet there's a spike every few days of thousands upon thousands of views. That's it. There it is. The machines are stealing my words. And I have nothing to show for it, because bots don't click ads (unless you tell them to). A voice cultivated over 30+ years of writing (and life) experience, able to be replicated in seconds. Is this what it feels like? To slowly lose your soul? My sentences, my expressions, my clever turns of phrase sprinkled about hundreds of plagiarized articles and essays. You can imagine how demotivating this can be. More often than not, instead of writing, I've found myself doomscrolling, despite my best efforts not to be on Instagram so much. Every once in a while, I'll stumble across a reel telling me I shouldn't be on there. That I should be reading or writing or studying or doing anything more brilliant than staring at a screen. Like Brené Brown recounting what the People in Charge talk about when they think we drones aren't listening. That they are creating a class of Consumers, while they work towards being known as Philosophers. As a ruling echelon of Thinkers. And I will break out of my stupor, screaming, "No!" No. I am one of the Thinkers. Repeat after me. I am one of the Thinkers. And I have better things to do.

Needless to say, one of my New Years resolutions is deleting Instagram and Bluesky from my phone. And deleting my Facebook, which I haven't really used in a decade and am holding onto for no reason.

So I give in to the fall, fall, fall (it's cold out here)

I need somethin' soft, down feathers over rocks

I died and I land with both of my hands

In the mud, the mud

It felt like a god, how she held me

I slept on her shoulder, I gave her my all (Is there anyone?)

I bathed in her waterfalls

And continued to fall, fall (I'm entering the exosphere)

Astrology, at its core, is a meaning-making system. Like the alchemists and ancient Hellenistic philosophers who came before me, I embrace astrology as a lens through which I choose to view the world and my place in it. We cannot change the stars. We cannot change the moment that we are in. All we can control is how we navigate the cosmic storms. Not that I needed to tell you, but we are in a transitional time. A lot of big movements are happening. As noted before, Pluto is fully going into Aquarius - we're not going back to Capricorn again, we are done with that for another 250 years. We are finishing the last weeks of Neptune in Pisces and we'll be done with that for another 165 years. And Uranus in it's final retrograde through the last degrees of Taurus and we'll be done with that for another 84 years. You and I, my friend, will never see these transits again. So whatever change or turbulence they brought to your life, whatever area of your chart was transformed by those years, it's over. As such, a retrospective is in order.

Uranus is making its last pass through Taurus, which started in May 2018. Back then, in my naivete, I thought I knew what this transit would bring into my life. Boy, was I wrong! My life is completely different from how it was back then. I'm in a different part of my career - I'm at a different company, in a different state, with the triple the salary I was making 7-8 years ago. I earned like 6 Cybersecurity certifications. I bought the house I wanted for my forever home, I bought my first car, and I had a whole other child during that time. And I lived through a pandemic (which, if you're reading this, so did you). My entire mental foundation shifted, which I should've been able to predict considering Uranus was transiting by 12th House. I went through the worst depressive bout I've had during my life, which led to me completely restructuring how I approached my mental health and self-worth. I got back into my habit of reading and started a new hobby I will obsess over until my body gives out (pole dance). And more than ever, I've leaned into my spiritual beliefs. I've learned how to "say it with my chest." I'm much more open about my personal practices and beliefs than I used to be. Uranus is the planet of revolution and revelation. Indeed, that is what it has brought me. Every day, I'm realizing that the most rebellious things one can do in this world is rest, read, and create. As such, I'm actively learning to make time for those things, which isn't easy in the best conditions and is getting harder by design. If you know, you know. 

The forest reaches out to guide me

Blue fire paths of will-o-wisps

Illuminate the darkness's old tricks

I'm nobody's captive (mm-mm)

I asked him not to kill me politely

He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source

I washed up on a sea glass shores

I'm nobody's captive (mm-mm)

The changes and shifts will continue, and maybe even accelerate, as Uranus moves into my 1st House. I can see the possibilities already, in the short time the transit was in play this year. Everything could change, all aspects of my life, but mostly, it will likely change my perspective. How I move through my life, how I perceive the world. Chani probably said it best in her recommendation for Gemini and Virgo Risings - Be the Chaos you wish to see in the world. Challenge accepted. 

Burnin' like a dyin' star

Invasive weeds rooted in my heart

Set in a crooked trajectory

The journey here was hard

I was almost pulled apart

Tryna leave this orbit, took what's left of me

Ashnikko and Ethel Cain were two of my top artists this year. This song, in particular, found me at a time early in the year when I felt especially hopeless. It is a song about finding a place of rest after experiencing a period of turbulence. Specifically, it's about leaving an abusive relationship. It can translate to other situations, though - leaving a soul-sucking job, ending a one-sided friendship, just getting through a rough period in general. In the verses, Ashnikko recounts how she gave her all to a relationship, only to be drained of the essence which made her special, which filled her soul. This is one of the reasons it's hard to leave an abusive situation. It takes and takes and takes, until your sense of self worth is destroyed. And often, it feels like the only way to get it back is to get attention from the person (or situation) that took it. That's why we see these cycles and internal debates between leaving vs staying or leaving and then going back. To break the cycle, it requires a drastic refocus away from that person or situation. It requires a re-centering yourself. The shift is brutal and disorienting - it takes everything you have to pull your energy away. This is where we meet the artist on her journey. The waterfalls she bathes in are her own, she found the softness she needed in herself. Both Ashnikko and Ethel Cain have distinct vocals. Cain has this more ethereal lilt whereas Ashnikko has a more gravelly, raw quality. Together, they create this celestial, atmospheric blend, which complements the metaphors and imagery within the lyrics so well. I hope you enjoy it, I hope it brings you the same peace I feel every time I listen to it.

"Dying Star" Video