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Happy Lunar New Year!
When I woke up at the start of 2026, in a different place than usual, preparing to drive nine hours “home” to be with family again, something in my body said: this doesn’t feel new.
Some years turn over with a clear energetic shift. I’ve welcomed January in other countries, in silent retreats, in seasons of bold change and spacious freedom. Those years felt like crossing a visible threshold.
This year, my body whispered: wait. There’s more. You’ll feel it. Not yet.
It felt like an extended 2025 — a lingering appetizer.
And then slowly, something began to move.
Grounding. Wild. Energizing. Exhausting. Exciting.
The first months of this year have moved faster than any I can remember. I’ve felt deeply aligned and focused, with a current of energy pushing me forward. At the same time, winter arrived in waves — fatigue meeting fire. A strange polarity: exhausted and electrified.
It feels as though I’ve moved through the first swell of it, yet I sense we are only at the beginning. The appetizer before a ten-course meal.
Now we stand at the second New Moon of 2026 in Aquarius — the sign of collective awakening, innovation, and unconventional truth — alongside a solar eclipse and the Lunar New Year of the Fire Horse. Fire Horse energy charges forward. It asks us to work, to create, to heal boldly. To make possible what once felt unreachable.
Astrologically, we are also witnessing larger currents: Neptune’s dreams and dissolutions meeting Saturn’s discipline and structure. Vision meeting responsibility. Imagination meeting form.
However one names it, 2026 feels like the beginning of a deeper consciousness shift — seeding dreams with disciplined action.
And yet.
focus and attention
And in the United States especially, there is a lot grasping at our attention and focus.
News cycles accelerate. Narratives compete. Commentary multiplies. Shock and urgency arrive at once. It’s so easy to feel pulled into reaction.
For months now, I’ve stepped back from actively consuming the news. Not out of denial — but discernment. Information still finds me through conversations, texts from family, art, organizing spaces. I don’t need to seek it constantly to remain aware.
A friend recently shared that they prefer to stay informed and feel capable of managing the stress of media intake. I trust that. And I also believe this:
This is a time for greater discernment.
It is no longer enough to consume information and move on.
Nor to share it freely without considering the energetic impact.
We must ask:
- What is information?
- What is distraction?
- What am I doing with what I take in?
Is it helping me live, relate, work, create — or is it stirring fear, anxiety, reactivity?
Any answer your body gives you is data. Our nervous systems are constantly signaling what supports us and what overwhelms us. Most of us were never taught how to listen.
Spiritual and contemplative practices can help — but only when they are integrated. Ritual as lifestyle, not event. Reflection as habit, not occasional escape.
When we begin asking better questions, we interrupt autopilot.
Imagine the scrolling thumb.
The strained eyes.
The bent neck.
The dissociation.
The quick dopamine hit.
The sudden realization that an hour has passed.
Exhausted. Disconnected. Wanting to escape again.
Perhaps this feels extreme to some. Yet the larger question remains:
How are we integrating what we consume?
In a year where more information will surface — some of it urgent, some of it sensational — how will you remain balanced and regulated?
Two years ago, I left social media.
A year ago, I stepped away from television and news platforms.
I still use YouTube occasionally — cats, yoga, workouts, recipes. It’s a far cry from the nights and weekends once spent binging shows and racing to keep up.
I couldn’t keep up.
And more importantly, I couldn’t find time for what I truly wanted to explore in my life.
And honestly, after years of distraction, I am just beginning to unlearn habits I’ve practiced for 41 years.
What feels encouraging is that we are not doing this alone. The Earth tilts. The Moon pulls. The Sun flares. The planets trace their long arcs across the sky. The tides respond. Seasons turn. Whether we understand these movements astrologically, symbolically, scientifically, or spiritually, they mirror something within us. Consciousness is relational and plural — a dance of opposites, contraction and expansion, winter and fire, discipline and surrender.
The Fire Horse does not demand frenzy. It invites courage. It asks for heart.
There is power in where we place our attention. But power does not always look like spectacle. It does not require militant urgency or dramatic rejection of what came before. Sometimes power looks like a steady flame — quiet, unwavering, illuminating the room without burning it down.
Wei wu wei — action through non-forcing.
Presence without aggression.
Commitment without chaos.
We are not powerless observers of the moment, nor are we required to exhaust ourselves proving our devotion to change. We are participants. And participation can be fierce or gentle, visible or interior.
So under this Solar Eclipse and Aquarius New Moon, I invite you to pause.
Notice your breath.
Your heartbeat.
The current moving through you.
Notice what is not yours to control.
Notice what is yours to tend.
You may choose revolutionary acts.
You may choose reflective ones.
You may choose bold action.
You may choose quiet devotion.
Both shape the world.
All are needed.
In this year of fire and structure, vision and accountability, may you hold both — the stillness that listens and the courage that acts. May your attention be intentional. May your presence be peaceful. May your power be grounded in love.
You have arrived.
We are here.
And the dance continues.
indieHealer 
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