There are moments in our lives that are portals. Quantum leaps we make effortlessly that shunt our reality from here to so far over there. The most recent eclipse season was such an animal, brimming with shadow and light. Often it is only with the passage of time and hindsight that it begins to make sense. We feel precisely how our worlds have tipped on their axis. We accept that nothing will ever be the same. We recalibrate.

Welcome one and all to the circus that Mercury retrograde has become in our terribly modern culture that has lost its way. The one that appropriates pop astrology for its own ends while slavishly disregarding the deeper meaning of transit and planet, the greater cosmic choreography and the alignment required to maximise its mighty force.

Curious indeed the cages we pop ourselves in, the limits we place on our dreams and ambitions, the cultivation of hopelessness we can indulge from within. Even on the luckiest days trapping ourselves in prisons of our own making, then gilding the bars with misplaced matyrdom, easy bypass or excuses. Eclipse season arrives twice a year to rattle those bars and our lives in the process.

Mercury has today shifted gears and flipped the switch on our retrograde adventure in consciousness through Aquaria. Our vision tilted, awareness shifted to haul us into the future and our preordained entelechy. Synapses crackling with fresh technologies as nerves thrum ancient codex. New keys jingling steel in your hands.

We are in the final throws of Mercury retrograde, with the messenger planet just about to station before he shunts forwards again at the end of this week. This is the period where everyone breathes a sigh of relief with the end in plain-ish sight but do not be fooled just yet, Bohemians. The stationing point of the retrograde is where the greatest snafus are possible, probable even.