Ashlee Reads the Stars Gets Her Stars Read

Ashlee, you won a Sun, Moon and Ascendant reading, and I fully intended to behave myself and stick to those three things. I did not. There are two other bits in your chart that are simply too good to leave sitting there, so I’m sneaking them in at the end.

SUN IN SAGITTARIUS, 2ND HOUSE

Your Sun is at 11°19′ Sagittarius in the 2nd house. Sagittarius needs room. It wants to discover things for itself, follow its nose, find out what happens if it goes over there and pokes that thing with a stick.

Put the Sun in the 2nd house and the questions get personal. What is worth your time? What do you value? What are you willing to build around? What belongs to you because you chose it, rather than because you got good at it and everybody assumed you would carry on forever?

You spent fifteen years as a cosmetic chemist and then, in 2018, packed up your life and moved from New Jersey to California because you wanted a change. Well, there’s Sagittarius. Sometimes Sag doesn’t leave because something is terrible. It leaves because it has seen enough of that particular landscape and wants to know what’s over the hill.

Your Sun sits on the Sabian Symbol Sagittarius 12: “A Flag That Turns Into An Eagle That Crows.” A flag is the official version. It tells everybody what they’re looking at, but the poor bugger can’t go anywhere. The wind blows one way, it flaps one way. Wind changes, off it goes in the other direction. Then it turns into a bird, and now we have a living thing with its own direction, its own movement and, apparently, opinions.

You can be very good at being the recognizable version of yourself: competent, useful, everybody knowing who you are and what you do. Until you aren’t that anymore. Then the eagle flies away, better horizons and all that.

There is one thing I’d keep an eye on with all that Sagittarius. Sagittarians can get terribly excited when they discover something and then come lunging at the rest of us like Tigger. LOOK WHAT I FOUND! BOING. They mean well. They’re delighted. They cannot imagine why everybody in the room isn’t equally delighted.

This is where your Libra Moon and Libra Ascendant come in handy. They give you a pretty good sense of whether another person is actually interested, whether the door is open, whether you’ve been invited in. The rule for Sagittarius is probably: go where you’re invited. After that, pounce away.

MOON IN LIBRA, 12TH HOUSE

Your Moon is at 24°10′ Libra in the 12th house, very close to your Ascendant and conjunct Pluto. This is not fluffy Libra.

Libra notices what’s happening between people: tone, timing, who moved closer, who backed away, who said “that’s fine” in a voice suggesting that it is most certainly not fine. With the Moon in the 12th, you may pick this stuff up before you know what you’ve picked up. You walk into a room and something’s funny. Later you know why.

Pluto is sitting right beside the Moon, so there’s depth underneath the social radar. You’re likely noticing more than whether everybody is getting along. You may pick up motive, attachment, withdrawal, pressure, the thing underneath the thing.

Your Moon is on Libra 25: “An Autumn Leaf.” The autumn leaf knows the season is done. The tree pulls back what it needs, the chemistry changes, the colour comes, the leaf goes. Nobody holds a committee meeting. The system knows.

I suspect you can know that way too. Something can still look perfectly serviceable from the outside while some part of you has already clocked that it’s finished. You may not act immediately. You’ve got a lot of Libra. Libra can sit at the table for quite a while wondering whether everybody has had enough potatoes. But the Moon knows.

And then we get the Sun. The Moon knows the season is over; the Sun grows wings. There’s your moving-to-California mechanism right there.

LIBRA RISING

Your Ascendant is 24°54′ Libra, with the Moon sitting less than a degree behind it. So people meet Libra first. You probably seem socially aware, observant, approachable, pretty good at figuring out what sort of interaction you’re actually in.

What they may not see straight away is the Moon-Pluto machinery sitting immediately behind the front door. There’s a fair bit more going on in there than the receptionist is letting on.

This is also where Libra helps with the Sagittarian Sun. Sagittarius sees something wonderful and wants to run over and share it. Libra has the good sense to look at the other person first. Are they interested? Did they ask? Are they backing slowly toward the hedge? Useful information.

You don’t need less enthusiasm. You need somewhere appropriate to put it. Feel the invitation, then pounce.

AND NOW I CHEAT

I promised you Sun, Moon and Ascendant. Unfortunately, your Mercury and Uranus are sitting half a degree apart in Scorpio, so obviously I’m going to talk about them.

Mercury is at 26°48′ Scorpio and Uranus is at 26°15′ Scorpio. Both are on Scorpio 27: “A Military Band on the March.”

Forget the military bit for a minute and look at the band. Lots of separate people doing separate things — brass, woodwind, percussion, everybody breathing and counting and moving — while somehow the whole lot becomes one piece of music.

That is a cracking image for Mercury conjunct Uranus. You can hear the individual instruments and the arrangement. In practical terms, you may make connections bloody fast. Other people are still examining Piece A and Piece B and you’re already saying, “Yes, but look what happens when you put A, B, F and that weird thing over there together.”

Because it’s Scorpio, you’re unlikely to be satisfied with the obvious explanation either. You want to know what makes the thing work, what’s underneath it, what causes it and what changes when you alter one ingredient. Suddenly fifteen years as a cosmetic chemist looks hilariously appropriate. Of course.

MARS IN CAPRICORN

Then we have Mars at 8°35′ Capricorn in the 3rd house. Mars is exalted in Capricorn. This Mars is good with tools. It likes knowing how, it likes competence, and it would rather do something properly than stand around discussing how marvellous it would be if somebody did it.

Your Mars sits on Capricorn 9: “An Angel Playing a Harp.” Which sounds a bit precious until you think about the actual harp. It’s a great big bloody contraption full of strings under tension. You don’t produce beautiful music by gazing soulfully at it. You need hands, timing, practice, pressure and technique.

Perfect Mars in Capricorn.

Put that together with Mercury-Uranus and you get a useful combination: Mercury-Uranus hears the arrangement and Mars can play the bloody instrument. You’re not limited to spotting patterns. You can make use of what you see.

SO, ASHLEE…

You’ve got Libra at the front door watching what everybody is doing, the Libra Moon noticing when the season has changed, Mercury-Uranus figuring out how the pieces fit together, Sagittarius eventually asking, “Well, why the hell am I still doing this, then?” and Mars in Capricorn getting out the toolbox.

The bit I’d watch is the seesaw between Libra and Sagittarius. Libra can spend too much time taking everybody else into account. Sagittarius can occasionally forget there are any other people. Fortunately, they live in the same woman.

So Libra gets to check whether the gate is open. Sagittarius gets to fly away, better horizons and all that.

Feel the invitation. Then pounce.

I always like to give people a theme song with a reading. Astrology is one language; music is another, and sometimes a song catches the whole thing faster than another three paragraphs of explanation ever could.

For you, it’s “Closer to Fine” by Indigo Girls.

It has that Sagittarian urge to go out and find out for yourself, but it also has the Libra ability to hold more than one truth at once without having to club everybody over the head with a conclusion. It feels curious, thoughtful, mobile, and just skeptical enough of Great Big Answers to suit you beautifully.

Here it is:

CONCLUSION

One last thing, and this time I actually mean last.

Right now, Jupiter is moving through Leo, which is a much more expansive, visible, cheerful bit of weather than some of the heavier stuff in the sky has been offering. Jupiter tends to enlarge whatever it touches, and Leo likes warmth, confidence, creativity, pleasure, and the occasional grand entrance.

So this is a good time to let yourself take up a bit more room.

Not recklessly. Not because every idea needs a marching band. Just enough to notice where life is opening rather than closing, where your confidence is growing, where you feel more willing to show what you know or try something that would have felt a bit too exposed before.

Jupiter in Leo can be gloriously encouraging, but it can also get a little full of itself, so the usual rule applies: enjoy the confidence boost without appointing yourself Queen of Everything.

Use the lift.

Have some fun with it.

You’ve earned a bit of sky that says yes.