Awwweee!

Due to advantageous planetary movements, particularly the positions of Jupiter and Saturn, there may be opportunities for growth, financial stability, and personal development–– particularly for me (a Gemini). Oh, also for anyone who is a Sagittarius, Virgo, Capricorn, or Pisces, otherwise known as one-third of the zodiac signs.

I don’t mean to disparage or belittle the ideas of my imminent good fortune, or that of my water-signed husband. According to the stars, the planets, and our bank accounts, it’s been a rough three years. We could use a bit of a break tbh!

Do I believe Jupiter’s shifts from nurturing Cancer into bold, expressive Leo will move collective energy from emotional growth to creativity, confidence, and authentic self-expression? Do I think as Saturn begins its long transit through Aries, its “fall” will bring structure, discipline, and reality checks to new beginnings and ambitious pursuits? Could a rare Saturn–Neptune conjunction in early Aries further mark 2026 as an epochal reset, where dreams meet reality at the very first point of the zodiac?

Maybe? Yes? Hopefully??? It’s been a hard few years.

Chinese zodiac echoes astrology. Where 2025’s year of the Wood Snake asked for quiet transformation and painful honesty, like letting go, unraveling, and reevaluating, 2026 is supposed to arrive with the opposite mood. The Fire-Horse gallops in with motion, courage, and forward momentum, turning 2025 shedding into fuel for a fresh start.

Who wouldn’t want to believe in that?

Let’s not get it twisted. I subscribe to astrology. I calculated my children’s charts from the hospital bed within 12 hours of pushing them out of my body, desperate to put a disposition to a face. I hired a tarot reader for my wedding guests. I use it as a way to get to know new people, reference co-workers’ placements in meetings (thank god for Lauren’s Capricorn rising or we’d never get anything done), send sign-appropriate memes to my friends, and ALWAYS blame Mercury when it's in retrograde––much to my husband’s chagrin. He thinks it’s bullshit (but he’s got a Taurus moon, so…).

Truthfully, I only know about the planets’ movements because I’ve trained my Instagram algorithm to exclusively feed me astrology creators, cats being very bad, pretty clothes, and disgruntled corporate job memes. I’m not even that fussy about work right now, but this content squarely fits between the organizational psychology student and digital creative strategist in me, so bring it on!

Could any of this BE any more Gemini-coded? Honestly! You should see the 50+ emotional support browser tabs I have open on my computer as I type this newsletter. But this chaotic good makes me happy.

Harvard professor and happiness researcher Arthur C. Brooks suggests that there are only four ingredients to happiness: faith or philosophical practice, a serious investment in family, friendships that are real rather than transactions, and meaningful work that both produces success and serves others. These are the deposits into the “happiness pension plan” that individuals with the highest levels of satisfaction, enjoyment, and meaning make on a daily basis. From what I know about studying positive psychology (albeit from mostly an organizational and social slant), the past three years, this checks out. The friends and family bit is a little “no shit, Sherlock,” and if you grab a coffee with me, I’ll talk your ear off about meaningful work, but for now, I want to talk about faith.

Brooks expands the definition of faith beyond religious beliefs. He describes it as having a broader philosophical life that allows people to transcend themselves and stand in awe of something bigger than themselves.

Awe is such a cool construct. We mostly know Jonathan Haidt for his most recent (and very important) work, The Anxious Generation, and its harsh critique of social media amongst teens. However, his body of research centers on the intuitive foundations of morality and their connections to culture, politics, and social issues. Though the concept of awe has been described in different ways by philosophers for centuries, it was Haidt and Keltner (2003) who established it, from a psychological perspective, as a broad emotion triggered by vastness (physical or conceptual) that leads to cognitive expansion and increases humility, connectedness, and reduced self-focus.

Are we all wired to seek out experiences of awe? Are they central to the human experience? They certainly do feel good.

Astrology originated in ancient Mesopotamia. Babylonian priests watched the sky for omens and believed the movements of planets and stars reflected the will of the gods. They were responsible for the first zodiac (dividing the sky into 12 segments), planetary interpretations, eclipse predictions, and the idea that celestial events mirror earthly events. This laid the foundation of all Western astrology. It was later shaped by Egyptian and Greek cultures, preserved by the Islamic world, and evolved separately in India and China. As science advanced, its relationship with astronomy diverged and eventually became the symbolic personality system we use today.

It’s just for fun…kind of? Right?? But who can deny a belief and framework that not only endured for thousands of years but also emerged independently in cultures around the world? And just because it shows up in our daily lives through apps and memes, is it any different from Jesus? The Trimurti? Buddah? Hashem? The endless wonder of nature? How my son feels about Blue Whales?

Earlier today, I spent three hours pretending I didn’t have a family or responsibilities. I went to a workout class, picked up a present for a 6-year-old’s birthday party, and grabbed a sandwich. I sat at the counter waiting for my food, and when it arrived, my hunger took over, and I said fuck it–– I’m gonna eat it now. So I opened my book (sadly, I read books on my phone now because it’s the only way I will finish a novel), and peacefully munched away.

Walking back to my car, I was still engrossed in my book (OK, my phone). As I traversed the parking lot, I looked up at just the right time to notice a heart rate monitor band on the ground. I picked it up, realizing it was mine, and had fallen out of my bag on the way to pay at the automated kiosk.

Huh!! What are the odds? There were dozens of ways I could have walked by to the car, and hundreds of moments to look up, or not. It’s not because mercury was in retrograde. It’s not because I am a Gemini sun, Virgo moon, and Taurus rising. I don’t think it’s because I was born in the year of the Ox.

I don’t know exactly why I found the monitor on the ground, but I believe it was something bigger than me. I found myself in awe that events had transpired in just the perfect way. Sometimes that’s how I earn my daily deposit into my happiness pension. Other times…it’s this.

Awe is awe is awe, I guess.