I can still smell the dove deodorant mixed with dried sticky sweat.
I can still smell the gasoline-like fumes of the pointe shoe glue.
I can still feel the rough knit of the grey carpet, the cold beams of the fluorescent light.
I can still hear Tchaikovsky being played on piano for swan lake rehearsal, the taps of twenty fluttering swans echoing from the next room.
It’s 2012. I’m living in New York City, pursuing my dream of being a ballet dancer. I’m training day and night. I’m on a break between classes, sprawled on the floor in a straddle, legs playing tetris with those of my fellow dancers.
Sadly, this is my favorite moment of the day. In the time between classes I get to check the daily horoscope app I paid .99 cents for and see what my day might hold.
I didn’t really understand depression back then, but I knew I wasn’t well.
Let’s just say at this moment in my life, mental health was bad. Physical health, also bad. I was kind of a mess, which might be fine for a normal teenager but I was on a mission. My ballet career hadn’t even begun, and I was already fighting back its expiration date.
So there I was, sprawled out, not daring to miss an opportunity to stretch in my free moment, clicking into my horoscope for the day, hungrily waiting for the app to load and reveal my destiny.
It didn’t matter that the app looked like one of the first things to ever be created on the internet, or that it was probably all written by an algorithm. It didn’t matter that some days it was completely wrong (it wasn’t always!).
Every time I’d open it, there was this little spark of hope, a hitched inhale, a rush of adrenaline, a child’s heart aching and wishing to hear something “good.” Inside I quietly prayed, maybe someone will see me today. Maybe someone understands. Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe today will be better.
Looking back I can see that there was a touch of what’s called fortune telling addiction in my compulsive horoscope reading. Though this wasn’t my worst addiction at the time, it was a kind of medicine for me then.
All addictions are some kind of medicine. Meant to numb the pain we’d rather not feel. Meant to numb the truths we’re not willing to face. Meant to mask our disappointment with the sometimes grey, sometimes utterly colorless reality of life.
Fortune telling addiction is actually a serious mental condition. Almost like a gambling addiction, it can deeply derail someone’s life. It’s a version of engaging “spiritually” that only serves to disempower, keeping the seeker second guessing all their choices, and even mistrusting their own thoughts, feelings, and intuitive voice.
The horoscope app became part of my daily habit, but I can’t say it ever helped me. Reading it was like scratching a bug bite—there was relief in the moment, but it actually only made the itch worse.
When the daily horoscopes eventually started feeling repetitive and useless, I stopped checking the app.
Most horoscopes are full of shit.
They hook into the part of you that wants answers to impossible questions, and is willing to stretch into the strangest shapes, as a way to avoid feeling fear.
But the thing is, this is how most people engage with astrology, at least at the beginning…
About a year after my daily horoscope addiction came to an end, I discovered the work of Mystic Mamma, and a new, deeper, relationship to astrology began to emerge.
My very! groovy! and very!! energetically tapped in mama forwarded me an email about the full moon. It wasn’t your typical astrology newsletter—it was full of gorgeous art and poetic writing, with insight about the full moon from real astrologers who were putting their name on their work.
The words touched my heart, not my fears. They made me ask more questions, not spin out on answers I did or did not want to hear.
From then on my practice with astrology became a dance with the moon. The moon kept me in rhythm with myself.
Every new and full moon I’d take the Mystic Mamma inspo and use it to fuel my own rituals.1 I’d take the astrologers’ words, and reconfigure them as questions, using the cosmic info as a mirror and guide, not a parking spot for my anxiety.
When I decided to take astrology seriously and step into this role, I was very clear that I wanted to do things my own way—a way that actually supports and nourishes, not profits off of fear and anxiety.
And I’ll let you in on a little secret… I had a LOT of inner resistance to sharing astrology publicly and making it my work! I hated the idea of being in a position that disempowers others, as I was in those early days of horoscope obsession.
So the first time I sat down to write a horoscope, they came out as questions—just like the questions I’d created for myself for years.
I called them reflective horoscopes, because they are just that.2
Reflective horoscopes are one way of using astrology to open up space within us. They are cosmically timed windows, meant to reveal what truly lives inside our minds and hearts.
They are my answer to the hollow norm of horoscopes using shallow predictions that give us a quick high, but like scratching that bug bite don’t actually help the healing process, and sometimes make it worse.
Questions lead us into the energy of discovery. Questions feed curiosity, growth, freedom, the pursuit of truth. Predictions, whether they end up being true or not, lead us into fixation on imagined futures, and, too often, fixation on our fears.
Reflective horoscopes are intended to reflect your wholeness, to be a light in dark moments, and to lead you back home to you.
Reflective horoscopes seek to honor the wisdom you already carry within.
Check your most recent reflective horoscope.
WITH SKY KISSES.
xo Eden Sky
I acknowledge that I live and work on the stolen, ancestral lands of the Lenape people. I humbly give respect and reverence to those who have always been here.
These rituals looked like singing, chanting, journaling, and dancing naked through a very purposefully placed grid of candles, stones, and other witchy accoutrement. I spent hours and hours, and countless Saturday nights in college alone, with myself. Feeling my way through the heartbreak of choosing to end my dance career, and the stress of starting college years behind everyone else. But my moon rituals weren’t just about healing, they were play. The moon helped me see myself, and my non traditional path with so much more excitement, clarity, and the feeling of belonging perfectly to the moment I was in.
The actual meaning of the word horoscope is - time observer. From Greek hōroskopos, from hōra ‘time’ + skopos ‘observer’.
I resonate soo hard with this piece. I started writing and sharing on astrology after being burnt out "fixing" my life and ofcourse after being burnt out AFTER having a spiritual/self help business. So it was rough because the skepticism to not fall into another trap another rabbit hole was really big. The fear of depth was fucking palpable. But over time I have been leaning more into it, almost 2 years of writing on astrology and I am finding this work so beautiful and gorgeous and actually for once embracing the reflective depths of it. It's soo important to have astrologers who take deep reflection and authenticity seriously as part of astrology. The commercial horoscope memory is haunting - i struggle with naming ny articles HOROSCOPE because that's not what I want to associate with but i guess it is what it is. They are horoscopes but hopefully not full of shit? Hahaha! We def need to break the stereotypes of horoscopes. For me they are like having a heart to heart rather than a predication - i hope my audience feels it 🙂☁️☁️ thank you for this. I feel so seen and understood 🎀