This Week in Astrology

This week arrives with the kind of trepidation only a woman in a chain mail caftan and ridiculous shoes about to navigate a marble staircase under lights understands. This is us all running the failing patriarchal gauntlet as the earth heaves. The next few months crunch the dinosaurs with dicks even further, ultimately blowing their old house down. Up. To smithereens, either way.The stars they would be shaking wizened fists at, if they peered beyond their stale echo chambers, are the continuing fallout of the Capricorn congress of Jupiter, Pluto and Saturn. Currently retrograding just in case they missed anything. Now squared, shaken and violently stirred by old Uncle Mars, all fired up in Aries and preparing to go rogue.Last week our planetary warrior squared off with Jupiter and the result was incendiary. During the weekend he plotted and ranted with the queens of take no shit, Eris and Lilith. Armed to the teeth and centuries beyond fed up, their meeting further fuelled righteous outrage and discord. Perfect prep for the Mars Pluto shitstorm that will blow up midweek. The powder keg is shuddering and the fuse may have already lit itself.What can we do, beyond sensible shoes and PPE, to navigate this week of landmines and blindsides? Channel your firepower. It is still lion season, darklings. The waterworld of tears and terror and tantrums will simply become hot air, a vapour that makes no impact and ceases to hold water.Consider instead that these roaring flames are burning down the old and freeing up the energy you have devoted to it. Given away to all the thems that crept under your skin and made it their home. This fire is forging you. Transforming your molten liquid into a sharp sword to cut through brick walls and glass ceilings, sever cords and binds and ultimately set you free.Did you really think your revolution would arrive without a fight? That all you are yet to claim would be laid at your feet? That the battle would be won by memes and keyboard warriors, as you sat a safe distance away and warbled change gonna come?Revolt begs more than a perfectly raised eyebrow. It howls to your blood and this week conjures it to a high simmer. Rewrite your burning times anew or be consumed. This week takes no prisoners and tells no lies. Shot from the Dior Spring 1998 couture lineWords c. Kerrie Basha 2020