The Week Ahead (2.19.24 through 2.25.24)
Wake up, babe. I'm hallucinating again.
Hi there! Good morning!
We just reached an exciting milestone: The Curiosity Report is now a “bestselling” Substack, which means it’s time to switch things up! As I emerge from my modified maternity leave, I’m feeling new types of creative surges (urges?). For me, astrology and magic is all about the intersection of artistic expression and spiritual interpretation. And, since this weekly newsletter is a microcosm of mystical exploration, I never want it to feel stale—it should be innovative! Dynamic! Alive!
To that end, I’ll be experimenting with new formats for our weekly reports. They may include personal essays. Or poetry. Or interviews. Or incantations. The essence of this newsletter is—you guessed it—curiosity, so our Monday edition will honor that principle. And, yes, the weekly report will remain free (but subscribing for only $5 will get you a whole lot more).
Anyway, I hope you’re into these slight but meaningful changes! Let me know what you think in the comments and, as always, thank you for being here.
May this upcoming week be the best one yet! xo Aliza
Notable Astrology Happenings
Monday, February 19 4:13PM ET: North Node conjunct Chiron (Aries 16º)
Friday, February 23 2:29AM ET: Mercury enters Pisces
Saturday, February 24 7:30AM: Full Moon in Virgo (Virgo 5º)
My Birth Story, Hallucinations, and Pisces Season
It’s still winter.
I gave birth on the coldest day of 2023. Or, at least, it felt that way. Arctic winds from the north whipped east, across the avenues, as I waddled up-and-down the streets.
Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.
This choreography was known as “curb walking,” and it was a technique used to induce labor. By that point, my daughter’s due date had come and gone. I had been pregnant for over 10-months. Ten thousand years. I was ready for the next chapter. Ready to sleep on my back. Ready to shave my legs. Ready to meet my baby. So, when my contractions began in the middle of the night, I was determined to keep it moving. I threw on whatever awkward pieces of fabric would drape over my enormous stomach—a collection of old pashminas—and got to waddling.
Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.
We arrived at the hospital at 9 o’clock that evening. My labor hadn’t progressed, but after a full day of waddling and waiting—braving the icy temperatures that stuck to my face like freezer burn—I was grateful to have an induction date on the calendar. My birthing room, room number 18, held me like a warm cocoon. We lowered the overhead fluorescent lights and turned up the thermostat. Nurses with cute names like “Nell” and “Faye” poked my veins with needles and velcroed electric straps across my stomach. I appreciated the attention, but my lord couldn’t they have turned down that insistent beeping?
From my elevated bed, I gazed out large, spotless windows into the night’s darkness. My eyes fixated on tiny, illuminated sailboats rocking back-and-forth on the East River; amber lanterns guiding silent, dutiful captain’s braving choppy waters. These boats seemed ancient—how long had they been there? Where were they going? I didn’t care. I was enveloped in a strange energy. We were all frozen in time on a frigid December night. Somewhere between here and there. Lost between worlds.
Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.
I later realized I had been hallucinating; I had lots of visualizations throughout my 45-hour labor. My birthing room was shape-shifting. As were the monitors. As were the nurses. As were the scenes outside the window. At some point, I remember desperately trying to get Luke (my husband) and Angelica (my doula) to understand what I was looking at.
“I just wish you could see what I see.”
As I delivered my daughter, the earth birthed winter. By the time we were discharged from the hospital, the cold had settled in for the season. And this is not my season—I’m a summer witch through-and-through. For the past eleven-weeks, we’ve been mostly inside, with occasional walks (fast, bundled) on sunnier days. But I know that this won’t last forever. I’ve seen as many winters as years I’ve been alive; I know that, soon, this season will loosen its tight grip. Buds will burst through the clenched fists of gnarled tree branches—they always do. This moment is about patience. Just waiting it out.
But my daughter, Talula, knows nothing of spring. To her, existence is winter. She’s never seen a daffodil unfold from the soil. She hasn’t heard the morning birds beckon dawn, a symphony of melodies. She hasn’t smelled warming chlorophyll—the aroma that is distinctly green. To Talula, life is a series of indoor routines. But all that’s about to change.
Talula was born during Sagittarius season, a mutable phase that corresponds with the transition from autumn to winter. Now, we’ve moved through one fourth of the zodiac; Pisces is a mutable sign that guides us from winter to spring. This is where we are now—one of my favorite times of year. The energy of Pisces is dreamy, ethereal. It’s longing. It’s yearning. It’s mythical sirens serenading impossible lovers. The Pisces archetype has a deep association with song; in many ways, I think this season is best expressed through melody. Check out my Pisces season playlist to see what I mean.
As the sun begins to shine brighter and longer, we rock back-and-forth between worlds, seduced by mermaids, like imaginary sailors traversing psychedelic waters.
The Week Ahead (2.19.24 through 2.25.24)
Astrology Forecast
Kicking off this week, the North Node of destiny makes a powerful connection to Chiron in the sign of Aries. Chiron has some pretty poignant mythology: In short, he was a gentle centaur (as opposed to the other centaurs who were allegedly v chaotic) and gifted alchemist, who was working hard to create curing potions and elixirs. But, ultimately, his demise came by way of his altruism: Trying to help Hercules, he was accidentally stabbed by a poisonous dart. Unable to heal himself, he suffered extensively and begged for mortality so he didn’t have to live in eternal anguish. His pleads were honored, and—upon his death—was placed among the stars in the constellation of Centaurus.
In astrology, Chiron—a celestial body discovered in the 1970s—is known as the “wounded healer.” Chiron exposes our deepest pain and empowers us to find strength through those experiences. So, when Chiron connects with the North Node—the placement associated with destiny, fate, and our karmic path path forward—we’re invited to truly tap into our self-actualization journey. Interestingly, the last time Chiron and the North Node met was 2008… the same year Pluto went into Capricorn. Back then, this conjunction occurred in Aquarius, which is also TANC (pssst TANC means there are no coincidences), because that’s the sign Pluto just went into a few weeks ago.
So, the North Node-Chiron conjunction and Pluto appear to be on the same cycle. And this makes sense, because we are always navigating both personal and collective healing by way of transformation (a Plutonian theme). With the North Node-Chiron alignment now occurring in Aries, you’re invited to tap into self expression. Your story matters. Your wisdom matters. Your unique, individual experience matters. Don’t be afraid to share your truth: under this transit, it’s guaranteed to make a difference.
~Related Articles~
Pisces Season: Horoscopes & More
Next, Mercury enters Pisces, which always marks a strange and unusual time. In astrology, planets have preferences: they favor some signs over others. These are called essential dignities. When a planet doesn’t enjoy occupying a certain zodiac sign, it’s considered to be in either its “detriment” or “fall.” Mercury, however, makes a dramatic exception to this rule. While Mercury simply adores to be in the sign of Virgo (Mercury in Virgo is both in its domicile and exalted in Virgo), it hates (!!!) to be in Pisces!! In fact, it hates it so much that it’s in both its fall and determinant in this zodiac sign!!! Hates hates hates!
Sure, Mercury is logical and practical—but communication cannot be relegated to spreadsheets and timestamps. Expression should be fluid. Abstract. Lyrical. Swampy. We may not immediately understand Mercury in Pisces… but there’s value in the artistic, otherworldly puzzle. Think of the next few weeks as an underwater tea party. Now through March 9, give yourself permission to explore dreams, creativity, even telepathy. There are so many ways to talk; just find something that flows.
Finally, the week concludes with a vibrant Full Moon in Virgo. This Moon is extra special to me: Luke and I both met under the Full Moon in Virgo and conceived Talula under the Full Moon in Virgo.
Luke’s a Virgo Moon, I’m a Pisces Moon.
Talula is a Virgo Rising.
I know, you can’t make this shit up. Astrology is so extraordinarily amazing.
And, while I know I’m biased, I really am obsessed with this Full Moon; I think it’s one of the most enchanted and bewitching Moons of the year. Going back to the imagery we conjured earlier—sailors traversing psychedelic waters—this Full Moon is all about exploring practical magic. That is, finding mysticism within the mundane.
Full Moons are about release, so as we inch closer to this lunation, consider what you need to purge. Outdated ideologies? Toxic relationships? Or maybe a nagging voice in the back of your head that doubts your abilities? Not only is the last Full Moon of the astrological year (Aries season begins with the Spring Equinox on March 19), but the next Full Moon will actually be a Lunar Eclipse (!!!). So be sure not to miss your opportunity to work with this magical energy. We’ll be gathering this Thursday, February 22 at 8PM ET in the Constellation Club for a Coven Meeting—I hope you’ll join (and, if you can’t make the live, replays are available). Hope to see you there!
In Constellation Club, we’ll be performing a dynamic ceremony to celebrate the Full Moon in Virgo. Join our Coven Meeting this coming Thursday, February 22 at 8PM ET. Can’t wait to see you there! (P.S. replays are available!)
Aliza’s Mommy Updates
Katrin and I connected to get the inside scoop on my life with newborn Talula.
How are you and Talula doing?