Maybe you have been lucky until now. Your life has whirled along, a sea of experiences that never stopped you in your tracks. That bad break up? You drowned it and moved on. The career hurdle? You switched gears. Life as you knew it had bones you put your weight on and the day to day was regular. Its tone and timbre was reliable. Your place in it and part to play known and understood.

Astrology for the apocalypse continues unabated, darklings. The dance of the planets is eternal and does not disrupt its constant choreography just because the seething ball of gas third from the sun is crippled by the labour pain of its rebirthing. As one of its handmaidens and scribes, you can bet your hand sanitiser on its prescriptions continuing here.

After every storm, the sun also rises. When our world is in crisis or we feel under siege, the very best thing we can do is offer support. The rolling disasters of these strange days are pushing us to a revolution of consciousness. We are required to save ourselves and care for others as well as the corner of the earth we call home. With this in mind I have flung open the doors to the Bohomofo Support Salon on Patreon.

The storm is here darklings and the sirens are ringing out around the world. To your bunkers, they cry. Seek shelter and protect yourself from the marauding virus that threatens life as we know it.

I bloody hope so. This tipping point has been ratcheting for some time.

I was chatting with this old bird today and he told me a story from once upon a time in my backyard. In the beginning when his kind had arrived to this lush paradise, he gestured wildly with his wing, life was simple. They ate. They squawked. They flew. They slept.

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.

The good ship 2020 has certainly run aground. Again. That's three times in as many months. First came January, which felt like a hundred years war. In romped February with its smoke and mirrors as those in power scrambled to offset the month prior. Nothing to see here. Oh heyyy March, you pandemic.

Our first good Mercing of this year is drawing its out of the box conclusion today. It is a transit that rewards a telescope more than a microscope.

A curious day in the cosmos darklings, after a weird weekend in Neptunia. Christ on a segway, this year is nothing if not determined to revolutionise. Make a note, if you have not already. You have to take respite as and when you need it. There is no window coming. Scheduling is the secret to peak self care. And tres Virgo, as this moon's mood dictates.

As those in power do their level best to stoke the fires of pandemonium while calling for calm through chattering teeth, we have reached yet another opportunity wrapped in viral crisis. Get used to this dynamic, the hallmark of both revolution and this paradigm shifting year.

Today we welcome a delightful tilt shift in the playing field as two of our personal planets move mansions and moods. If you're feeling stuck in the mud that 2020 has been liberally hurling around, this is antidote and opportunity wrapped in lightning.

The oldest trick in the narcissist's playbook is manipulation through fear. Smart sociopaths know that the fear of fear itself is far worse than the facts, which rarely get in the way of a good story. They will fuel your panic and then tell you to calm down, leaving you drowning in a sea of dread and woefully stricken.

Despite a crowded cosmic choreography, this week bows down to our lady Venus in iconic mode. Her passage through Aries has been greatly obscured by the smoke and mirrors of the Mercing through Neptunia. The next few days we will feel the ripples as she stamps her authority and reminds us of the power of our heart to rule.

You don't have to do it alone, darklings. Just ask Stell and that big smile, the one borne of patient encouragement and unconditional belief. I know she can swim. I know you can too.

As we gallop through the midpoint of Merc's retrograde and he meets the sun in Pisces, we are at the tipping point of this transit. And there is just so very much on multidimensional platforms to consider. Enter the ghosts of missteps past, whose unholy spectre arrives to pull your reluctant attention by the nose.

Though the moon is newly reborn in Pisces, this is not a start line from which to clang or bolt or proclaim. Not all moons are created equal and lunar solidarity resists such limiting prescription, tis the feminine after all. In Pisces the new moon is curtains parting to reveal a deep ocean, gently lit by moonlight whose shining surface promise only its depths.

A word to the wise mermaids, as we navigate the fathoms of Pisces season and Mercury's emo retrograde. Though this sign cultivates the shamanic depths and our emotional currents, it also has a spectacular penchant for drama, delusion and evasive bypass. Pisces is just as great at opting out or cultivating unconsciousness. Everything has its shadow.

Grateful as we may be for the ebbing away of that discerning lunar close up, there's no rest for the wicked. Not this week anyway. Claiming centre stage now as the lights dim are our lady Venus and Uncle Pluto, arm in arm in Capricornia.