It is 30 years today since Gen X lost our prophet to the weight the world had placed on him, stupid and contagious. Well ahead of the times he occupied as we all came of age in a world that appalled us with its judgements and dictates. It spawned an alternative culture that we still harbour beneath long sleeves under t shirts, tucked somewhere deep inside Gen X's painfully salty identity wounds.

The equinox tipping point beckons but nature never goes early. Her time is ever ours to keep. For more than a day yet we are plunged and resurface gasping through the fathomless whirlpool of Pisces. Its inherent dissolution loosening the bonds to what has already passed. Its inexorable draw torrenting over the falls at the far end of the zodiac.

Vulnerability is the most likely hangover of the dreamy Libran full moon. She who invited us to a fresh union of opposites, in order to come into right relationship with all that lives outside of us. Of course that is a tall order when, like most all living through this post post-modern revolution, we are still working on internal reconciliation.

Though Chiron has been in Aries since Feb last year, with the world burning then flooding then completely freaking out there has been precious little time to dive into our deepest existential identity wounds. Survival mode makes hasty decisions and rash vows. But there ain't nothing like isolation - and a gentle shunt from the stars - to push the world's individuals to grander considerations.

Venus in Aries is iconic and leaves an indelible impression. A one word moniker is often all that is required for these wonder women and gamechanging men. Audrey. Marilyn. Gaga. Rihanna. Einstein. Lincoln. These powerful ranks include epic go getters like Elizabeth Taylor, Jack Nicholson and Katherine Hepburn. Venus in Aries natives are born to shine brightly, lead the charge and leave a formidable legacy.

As the cosmic choreography continues unabated this week, we yet have a little firedancing on our plate. Today our lady Venus spends some quality time with our master revealer Chiron and feels the flames of Aries crucible licking.

Having spent years wailing and fighting, surrendering and accepting, the matrix is already rippling with your healing. In 2010/11 when our greatest cosmic teacher moved into Pisces, we were forced into deeper water and given little choice but to begin our life's greatest education. Today we graduate from Chiron University, with our sights on dancing post grad horizons.

Next cosmic cab off the evolutionary rank during this Saison du Flux is Chiron, following the moonlit path into Aries. Our wounded healer remains our emblem of overbloodycoming. Tempting as it is to see only the claret oozing and float away on a sea of tears and fingerpointing, Chiron is always far more interested in our healing. In how we rise, not what knocked us flat. In how we each alchemise that shit into gold.

For the next few days Mars and Chiron dance again in a capoeira style face off at the tail end of Pisces. All too soon Chiron will be joining the Aries party, having ideally prepared us for the ram's playing field by drowning us in our unresolved merde for eight years. Bless.

Welcome to the Academy of Chiron, a learning institution founded on principles that at first, second and fortieth glance seem fuqing ridiculous. You want me to sign up to deeply revisit all the very worst shit that ever happened to me or that *gasp* I did? Righto. How bout no.