Beyond All Reasonable Diggity
Now you know that there's no justice, you can understand why there's no peace.
Perhaps it has taken until now to pick your jaw up off the floor after another horrendous week on Planet Rebirth’s rollercoaster. The outrageous glitching is more than just a herald of revolution well underway. The constant shock horror two-step isn’t just a relentlessly awful avalanche meted out by the monsters in charge. In the stars constant alarm bells are the calling card of Urania, clanging against all that remains sleeping in our souls. Waking us like our lives depend on it, and they do. Last week concluding a feisty retrograde by particle beaming the Aquarian search party on the hunt for The Future and immolating the last of our snoring normcore.
Lightning is the constant consort of Urania, illuminating and eviscerating and unable to be ignored. Ask any Aquarian what those wavy lines really mean. Since September this long annual retrograde redirected those jolts internally, a frequency entrainment program plugged into your path through the fray. Pinging the past to reframe future possibility and persistently buzzing all the significant life altercations underway.
During this long and utterly unique outer planet transit, currently along the bullish axis of sustainability v. extinction, the outward transformation and chaos also twisted and yearned within, seeking roots. Asking the tough questions of your evolution and your life, littering the field with pain points that required innovation to navigate or leave behind. Doing the same thing and expecting a different result is Einstein’s definition of insanity. It is also Uranian kryptonite that instantly blocks the changing channel.
Cosmic acupuncture that alters ailing currents can invert fixed orbits and reset flow in ideal circumstances. These feel far from what we used to call Kansas. But this retrograde can also slowly and interminably expose where you may in fact have your head stuck firmly up Uranus. Impediments to development apply sharp pressure to the stuck places and it is more than just uncomfortable. As one of my most unlikely mentors once sagely intoned, the thing about having your head stuck up your arse is that only one of your senses is working.
And so it was that Urania’s slingshot turn last week operated as another of this year’s numerous startling guns in a month - and a world gone rogue - that has no plans to stop firing at us. Again we just collectively endured piled up revelations of even greater depravity and injustice. Once more the very important somebodies tasked with doing something, did nothing. Not a fucking thing so far, and counting. Everyone who always gets away with it does so again. The screaming eventually collapses into a whimper under the galling weight of despair. The chaos serves its awful purpose, hitting like buckshot and taking another vast swathe of resistance out.
Perhaps you were raised with the understanding that Law and Order was more than a [ bom boom ] television show. Maybe you were taught compliance to a universally agreed set of rules, the one tacked to the wall that could be ardently defended and rigorously tested. Rules counted on to operate as boundaries that kept everyone safe and everything fair. When proven in a court of law beyond reasonable doubt, those rules convicted wrongdoing and sentenced punishment to fit the crime and we all called it justice. A system so lauded by its architects that it was enshrined in constitutions and Hollywood blockbusters alike, its giant statues looming over us in cold stone comfort.
So riddle me this, keyboard revolutionaries and robot spies, as the rot creeps up all our paling legs.
Where is the Rule of Law when the rich and powerful offend its delicate sensibilities with their unchecked psychopathy?
Crickets. Turns out we can’t handle the truth. Like so many of Western modernity’s highfalutin principles, our rough justice lacks integrity when put to the pub test. The court of public opinion lacks sentencing powers by design but will let you shout into the abyss about it forever. The Rule of Law doesn’t deserve its capital letters. It tends to crumble into dust in common hands because of the way the deck is stacked. The pieces have never been evenly distributed. The house always wins and retains the right to appeal even if it does not. The system profits and continues to feed only itself getting fatter on the tailings all the time. The reasonable doubt lever works as intended, putting the victim under justice’s microscope and deftly obscuring the original target of judgement. Then there’s barely a shred of diggity required to dismiss.
We are a terribly long way beyond reasonable diggity and we have been for an awfully long time. Perhaps you have never run the gauntlet of the modern justice system, relying on its presence instead as an ideal or a safety net. Never had it collapse under the flimsy weight of little ol’ you, concurrently crushed by its utter lack of humanity. Never had it turn and devour you for daring to call it by its name and demand the same for yourself. There is something universally galling about realising that the rules don’t apply evenly, or to everyone. That the Rule of Law is not consistent, and nor has it ever been. That the system is operating exactly as it was built to function. And that you are the next in the neverending line required to pay the terrible cost of that well orchestrated justice for all. Shock treated to the kind of rage that ends empires, the compulsory death tax of trying to escape its clutches.
Giant statues of Lady Justice still sit blindfolded and covered in shit outside high courts all over the world, as she valiantly continues to hold sword and scales aloft. Borne of ancient formidable goddesses like Ma'at, Themis and Nemesis, but only portrayed blind since the 16th century curiously coinciding with the rise of colonialism and modern patriarchy. The tale told of her blindfold is that it prevents her from being swayed by outside influence, the lady chaste of corruption. The deeper fable has always wanted us to wonder who blinded her without losing their own eyes, and why. Maybe last week your blindfold finally got ripped all the way off. Now you know that there is no justice, you can finally understand why there is no peace. A truth unilaterally applied that could just invert things and turn them right way up.
In great news courtesy of these stars and planets, despots and dictators and all the vile men of last week’s rotten revelations, the rule of law has irrevocably collapsed. And at the hands of its longterm beneficiaries fallen on their secret swords and systems, finding that the email is indeed mightier. As Urania turned and its Promethean lightning struck like a Palantir calling card, the justice system finally wrote itself out of the social contract crumbling since Covidia. A.I. wobbling on fresh legs that cannot yet bear the weight of expectation, over-inflation or its phat profiteers. Coded in the image of its makers and so far proving to be a similar pox. Financial behemoths built on theft and speculation roiling wildly with no one left to bail out the ballers. The jig is up. The veils are shredded. The cracks are now crevasses and the lava is rising through protest and connection, humans coming together from all quarters bonded by shared shocking realisation. Their common enemy is not the other and neither the exiled stranger. We finally got it in writing. Our common enemy has always been the western world’s status bro.
Let us not forget that the Uanian retrograde kicked off September from new digs in Gemini. In poweful alignment with Pluto and Neptune, as part of last year’s continuing introduction to the New World still in late stage labour. We are deep in transition now where poor care makes you feel like you might not make it.
Urania reversed its struck-truck out of Gemini and into Taurus for the last time in our lifetimes last November. Shifting the evolutionary emphasis from tech and temerity back to resources and money just as the UN Climate Change Conference made a mockery of sustainability. Reminding us all that oil and guns still run the world rather than the institutions supposedly built to save us all from them, and the wars they must foment to flourish. Protest bloomed like algae and revolution began to synapse anew.
Many of our outer planets, the ones whose influence is more often parsed through the wider lens of time and transit than personal effect, moved house and tilt shifted our norms in 2025. This matters because last year was a rolling initiation hinting at impacts that will set firm roots now, once all the snakes have bailed for their bunkers. After the test runs of last year the changes set in from now, liberally peppered through the first half of 2026. January has already seen Neptune settle into Aries. February will witness Saturn follow suit as the old world finally dissolves down the drain it built for its detractors. Their fabled conjunction at the zero point of Aries will overshadow even the solar eclipse in the lightning grip of Urania. And all of it is bearing down now.
In medical astrology Urania governs the movement of fluid in the body, including the key centre of both our physical and psychic being: the cerebrospinal fluid. Our river systems and nervine conduits have their channels flustered whenever the planet of shock and awe makes its presence felt, our energetic cores stirred and shaken up like a non Bond martini. Urania perched at the stubborn end of Taurus has been catching us all between a rock and a hard place roughly since Black Friday, which feels entirely appropriate for the last hurrah of the transit that will sink profit over people capitalism. In reverse gear the sideways planets’ effects are magnified rather than hamstrung, playing in the tides of anaretica with an agenda. Cue the relentless late stage humanity horror show and all of its look-what-you’ve-done’s, prodding us with its guileless parade of known offenders.
The Uranian aim of the game may well be to wake us up. Sadly modern humans prefer to rot in bed until the covers have been ripped right away and you have been dragged far beyond your comfort zone. Then we’re all in it together. The old world and its brutal systems of control are not remotely looking for anyone to get woke, or they would not have weaponised the word. Confusion is a tactic drip feeding this water torture indefinitely. Chaos is a deadening weight on weary souls. Social media keeps you glued to its rolling screens of atrocity by design. The pepper spraying of the E-files is just the latest acid thrown to hit circuits intent on the despair to dissociation pipeline. Cry out, coil, collapse on repeat. Give up, the demon whispers, it hurts less if you stop carrying on.
That is not true in the long term, and just as abhorrent in the short. Still we felt Urania’s bending all last week as a cruel crashing through thresholds we never thought would give way. Ascensionists everywhere unprepared for the floor to fall out when they imagined themselves floating into a shining new reality. Atheists calling out to gods they used to deny. Politicians as useless as ever. The fourth estate falling yet more silent as the world goes darker still.
The only way to soothe the brittle edge of change - and life as we knew it shifting irrevocably - is to nourish thy nerves in order to keep the channels open. This is less about nervous system regulation, which has become a blood sport in recent years and a minefield to manoeuvre, and more about the cultivation of resilience. Any kind of revolution is a marathon not a sprint. A healthy nervous system handles the highs and the hits of its life equally moving between the poles like an endurance athlete, responsive rather than reactive and unflinchingly self aware. A nervous system that cares about itself as central and tends appropriately to far more than its own survival. You have to thrive too. Yes, in this dystopia.
As one who studied its dendrites last century from books and the longform learning of A&P, I didn’t stumble across somatics until well after Alexander and Feldenkrais began to explain how the body holds what happens. Despite regular updates in reading and studies in a vast variety of alternative therapies, it took my own nervous system collapse at the hands of terrible men and a broken justice system to seek another way to heal far away from its petty concessions. I studied somatics anew because I find so much comfort in learning and healing in understanding. Even so, it was still self caring that counted the most.
How you feel inside is a fairly good reflection of how you see the world, though it used to be much easier to spot which came first. The state of your nervous system can determine how you perceive through interioception, constantly scanning your internal environment as a key contributor to the perception that constructs your reality. We sense in multiple directions which makes controlling any inputs you can crucial to your peace.
Whatever your eyes stare at the most changes how your circuits run. The environments you marinate in colour and flavour your world. Sensation shifts mood and behaviour. Shock rarely tips your day the right way. When the buttons that make you freak out light up on your control panel they can crash the system. Consider how often you are letting something inhuman hammer them repeatedly without tacit consent, leaving you pulverised and staring hopelessly into space. Plan a coup and take yourself back over.
The only shock value of this moment is how it may render us, one and all together. Invite us with open arms into a revolution we may not have already joined, now begging us to come prepared. Allies don’t arrive asking to be spoon fed by those who have been on the front lines for decades. We can learn most from the devoted crusaders that have never stopped fighting, who you can always find shouting and organising from the margins. They make sure that the centre that holds is theirs, and know how to channel every hit into fuel for the cause. They have learned the hard way how to salve all that is rocked by inhumanity and rattled loose by injustice, understanding how it buzzes personal pain points. They specialise in their bespoke care.
The secret source of the revolutionary is never just anger, it borne of great love for something spoiled or taken. It is also rest and regulation, a defiant joy and an enduring sense of community. Safety in numbers and loving arms, not screens and memes. Deferring this self care and tender triage lying prone on the bleeding edge of your world is actually self harm that has an expiry date.
We have no choice but to walk through this fire, or we will most certainly be burned out by it. With these fractious stars square dancing just a little longer until Venus joins Mercury in Pisces mid week, challenge garners change. Breakthrough courts innovation from tight corners. Anticipate a gathering momentum towards The Future, even though that may well land as a hail of hell-no’s and not-no-more’s. We are on the way to an eclipse after all.
Skin shedders to the front. Don’t miss what is now also able to shimmer shyly your way. Even in its most embryonic state make a worthy welcome of it, trailing prayers and entreaties and tucking it somewhere safe. The trick is not to get stuck in the funk or sucked into ongoing collapse. Only those who steer clear of departure lounging may ride the lightning. If you tarry too much over the past, you will miss the bolts. Please take your grief with you as valuable carry on luggage because anything we do not properly mourn will weigh too heavily on the journey to come.
May as well make it up as you go, darklings. We are in unchartered territory and the old maps don’t much matter anymore, the rules even less. Allegedly. Blindsiding that crumbles the old and expired is the shadow partner to galloping progress, in case you are already getting ahead of yourself. But true rebellion must have its roots in more than fear or favour, anchored into values that can endure attacks on their integrity. Evolution remains imaginary - or just all talk and press releases - until it is embodied. Make sure yours is sustainable by repeatedly trading that old status quo for something more you, and altogether more universal. Whether things go galactic or just get more galling, the future must be collective or we will be conquered by our great divides.
Resources for the Revolution and our February Witch’s Calendar up now in the Coven Electric because knowledge is power and ritual is bedrock support for your evolutionary front. Together we are most carefully stepping the sequence to the lunar new year, drawing prescient conclusions to round out our year and set sail for the next. If you are keen to move beyond endless info grazing into a lived practice that holds you and keeps you, have you tried witchcraft? You can try out most effective defence against the dark arts for a month at a time and see if the pointy hat fits. Join us here managing mischief and so much more since 2019.
You can tune into my latest podcast as I joined astrologer and mystic Michelle Prentiss on her Persephone Program to talk through the stars that are testing us the most, wondering what we are bringing with us to the revolution. Listen here on Substack and here on Soundcloud.
Shapeshifter sessions and shadow dancing, readings and revelations, epiphanies only found in the cards and channelled company. Book yourself in here or send me a raven. There is so very much to glean from these crossroads.
