I'm just a Cosmic Girl
laser beaming you with my cosmic eyes
It’s been a bit since I’ve talked astrology here and it’s a new moon in Cancer. Cancer, who is ruled by the moon is at home here, in its domicile. And to sweeten the pot, yesterday there was a Jupiter cazimi, also in Cancer. A cazimi is when a planet meets right at the center of the Sun in its transit, and as you can imagine, sheds the most potent, powerful beams of light through that planet and onto us with its sparks of clarity and blessings.
Jupiter had already entered Cancer earlier this month, but yesterday’s cazimi marked a moment of purification and illumination of this new Jupiter cycle. That means this part of your chart, wherever Cancer resides, is being blessed by the planet of growth, abundance, and wisdom, lit up from the inside out for its 12 month trek until June 30, 2026.
“The big planet goes home” - The Old Farmers Almanac
This is why we love astrology. Look at all this information we get from distinct moments in time… and now we get to use our free will, our intentions, and our actions to meet the occasion. Sometimes it’s about navigating challenging periods with more awareness and grace. While other times, it’s about readying ourselves to receive and sustain the growth and expansion being presented.
Either way, this moment feels especially significant—not in a “your life is going to change tomorrow” kind of way, but in the sense that you have an opportunity not just to catch a collective wave of goodness, but to set your sights on where you’d like to invite in a little good fortune.
And just as the planets move through the sky, and through our lives, there are phases where we’re invited to peel back new layers, to revisit old themes from a fresh perspective, or to simply pause. These different points along the way can represent times to reflect, realign, recharge or gather strength from the well of the cosmos within us, to keep going in the direction of our dreams.
So do as the astrologers advise (if you want), and set your intentions; then let the Moon, the Sun, Jupiter, and Cancer conspire on your behalf. And do your part in the group project by considering: Who do I need to be to receive the results of my intentions? What needs to happen on my end to co-create the richness of life that I want to experience more of?
For me, there have been many themes circling, but lately, so much has centered around storytelling—the way we share our stories with people we trust and the way it feels to be seen and heard in those spaces. Those moments are energizing. They help us sift through the mud to find the bits of gold within our stories.
Through The Confession Book, I’m getting to hear small glimpses into people’s lives that feel deeply generative. Like bite-sized truths that pack the flavor of whole lifetimes. We’re mirroring things back to each other in real time—what we see, what we feel—and for me, that’s something we need more of.
I happened on this painting yesterday and it stopped me in my pinterest scrolling tracks. It felt like a visual transmission of exactly what I’ve been feeling: the charge, the behind the scenes bolts of electricity, and creative friction that come from being both inside yourself and connected to the world that exists outside of you. The kind of spark that happens when we ride collective waves but stay anchored in our own frequency. That’s what’s been stirring the excitement to tell more of my own stories and to see them not just as memories, but as portals.
To witness them as this version of me.
It reminds me that even the same message or memory can strike differently depending on who we are when we meet it. Like watching a movie you’ve seen a dozen times and suddenly catching something new, not because the film changed, but because you did. It’s the same with life lessons: we can see or hear them over and over, but until we’re ready to truly listen, they tend to pass us by.
In the spirit of storytelling, these past few months have ushered in a personal revival of an album that not only defined a poignant chapter of self-discovery at a young age, it also helped shape my musical taste, it showed me the liberation and body wisdom that come through dance, and how powerful lyrics can become a guide throughout your life.
Traveling Without Moving by Jamiroquai was the first time I loved music that wasn’t directly influenced by my drummer dad, my cooler older siblings and cousins, or the best radio stations in the country—obviously Wild 94.9 and 106 KMEL. I couldn’t explain it… how Cosmic Girl hit me, how my body just moved intuitively, and how, for 4 minutes and 4 seconds, I was that girl.
These memories live somewhere in the body, waiting for the right version of you to remember how alive they made you feel. As I write this, Use the Force is playing and what I may not have realized at the time but see much clearer today is how the lyrics were part mantra and part spell casting. I was ten years old when this album came out. And like my most cherished books I have on audio and hardcover, I had this on cassette and cd later on. Before I had language for or embodiment or even understood intuition, these songs planted deep.
Hearing it now, the lyrics land differently:
I must believe I can do anything...
I am the wind, I am the sea, I am the sun...
I can be anyone.
I can turn any stone.
Call any place my home.
I see now how those words manifested in real life; in a strong inner dialogue, in resilience, and in the thread of optimism and self-trust that runs through everything I do.
In a conversation with a friend today, I mentioned how lucky I felt to have grown up in a time that was so creatively expressive and strange. The Neverending Story, Labyrinth, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Garbage Pail Kids… these childhood obsessions, so unique to the era, were like invitations to imaginative freedom. And every new opportunity to revisit them, through music, memory, deeper conversations, or even a painting, feels like a reclamation.
The astrology of the week offers us a chance to remember what’s always been there. To choose what we’ll carry into the next cycle. And to recognize how even the strangest corners of our past can hold keys to our most expansive chapter yet.
We remember, and by remembering, we reclaim. In reclaiming, we become more of who we already are.
