Eclipse week is here darklings and this witch could not be more enthralled! Though we may now boast a haughty modern understanding of the orbits and intersections of our sun and moon, the folklore and magic attributed to our luminaries offers far more.

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.

What if, in the middle of poppycock and all the noise of the world, fate yet took you by the hand smiling? Stopped you right in the middle of what you weren't really doing and turned your head just so. Enough for you to sigh and spy the beautiful blindfolded goddess staring you down, the horn of plenty in her outstretched hand.

In a world trying to become more empathic and compassionate, our oldest wounds still smart. In our charts this is Chironic territory, a vital learning curve that shapes and frames the human experience. All of us have this tender place, but fewer move beyond its militant protection to unlock the treasure inside it.

Being a witch does not preclude enchantment by the beautiful fables, tenets and architecture of other religious paths. If anything it has connected me to them, echoes blessing my crooked path with their particular magic. And this week and its first full moon after the equinox is fairly crammed with them.

Einstein was a certified genius who knew unequivocally the "only real valuable thing is intuition". He attributed some of his greatest discoveries to this very human wonder, at times feeling he was certain he was right without - yet - knowing the reason why. Some of humanity's greatest breakthroughs have come courtesy of hunches, visions and dreams.

A palpable heaviness hangs in the air and floods our days and dreams. The weight and its grave implications are impossible to ignore. In this year of transition we will keep finding ourselves caught between worlds real and imaginary as the old gives way. Its slippage uncertain and discombobulating as the devil we know falls into these broiling seas of stormy change. Though we have felt it incoming like a smackdown for a day or more, Venus is now passing by Saturn in Aquaria.

This wide ranging conversation explored the initiation sequence now ignited by the Aries equinox and new moon that pulls us further into the Age of Aquarius. We mused on the soul's calling gaining momentum in each of us, the world and its evolution, epoch changes and trauma, listening to the call of the god/desses and our modern hunger for an embodied enlivened spirituality. Jumping between intuition, shadow, stars, magic, ritual and so much more.

Some days this world continues to defy belief. The news breaks our hearts. It leaves us mute in shock, harried and hopeless. The scales feel tipped too far in the wrong direction, the hurdles tower over us and faith jumps a bus for the coast. Revolution leaves everyone weary and worm down, especially on days where it feels like the needle hasn't really moved at all.

After any torrid passage, on earth or in the stars, there is a yawning need for rest. Time to tend and digest all that has gone on. Space to muse on what has moved or been shaken beyond beyond former recognition. Room to wonder where and why as we align to a fresh bearing. Its good value won't wait for the dust to settle or the to do list to get done first.

Until June, Pluto makes his first foray into Aquarius and a new generational chime rings out. More deep sub than bell tower, Pluto's impact is occulted and works from the ground down and the inside out. The last time he descended into the water bearer's realm was an era of revolution and invention but we cannot infer the same direct impact in the age of information and tech. How Hades' clarion call to our humanity takes root is yet to be understood, cloudy forms taking shape in dark crystals that defy gnosis.

For a year and a day now my very first book baby has been making her way into the world. Self published on the Aries equinox after years - some would say decades - of procrastination, ruthless editing, relentless changes in form and shape, long stretches of self doubt and even greater nights of scribbling and scribing. Pouring my soul out on to the pages, weaving its song through magical tales to carry us all away.

In the place just before transition, when emergence beckons and you can hear the call of the next horizon flickering beyond the threshold, the temptation is to leap. To bolt towards what comes next, trading the present for the future in a whirling swirling haste.

In the shadow of some heavy planetary jostling, our serene Lady of Love exits the ram's lair for her home state. A torrid crossing that saw her squaring Pluto's anaretica as issues of power and control challenged heartfelt values. Once more with feeling. Venus arrives to her domicile and sinks herself gratefully into its fleshy welcome.

Neptune's fathomless depths draw mighty forces towards the falls at the end of the waterworld. A messy tangle of planets caught in the drag net and tumbling over one another, sometimes swimming in an enchanted synchronicity and other times gasping for air.

We make our way through the far end of the zodiac as if underwater. An odd surrealism permeates the landscape. We are between beginnings and endings, then and the next now. Things are hazy, lines are blurred slack. Worlds are overlapping, mingling in brackish corners.

Saturn's seachange has arrived, towed in by the virgin's moon. She who has already moved on, now ensconced with Neptune at the zodiac bar that overlooks the great falls of Pisces. These cocktails could take down a dragon or two. Nothing is clear. Hard and fast borders and exclamations have dissolved. Feelings have been spilt all over the floor.

The very best kind of magic is sympathetic magic. It harnesses the power of one of our world's most significant forces, that of resonance. A recognition of its counterpoint in another.