The New Moon in Libra, occurring on October 6th at 4:05 a.m. PT, offers a master class on tact, diplomacy, and compromise. With Mars in the throne room, ready to do battle with a cocktail sword, there will be situations that force athletic negotiations on this side of the Via Combusta (the traditionally prickly passage between 15° Libra and 15° Scorpio).
Meanwhile, Mercury joins this New Moon as a media scrum, recording the buzz session between Mars and the luminaries. Still engrossed in a Pluto-infused retrograde, Mercury is parsing the deeper subtext — the unspoken jockeying for power — betrayed by body language and crucial omissions. Mercury will be retracing conversations to ferret out a byline that will get at the root of recent cloak-and-dagger.
After the mic-drop moment of Mercury’s station retrograde on September 26th, we may be rebooting something in our lives following this crucial intel. With Pluto about to station direct, there are subterranean tremors beneath the intellectual sparring. More will be revealed in time, but for all the politicking, a deeper process unfolds that will expose decaying social institutions and the growth edges of our relationships.
The day after the New Moon, Mars will be invited to a secret council with the Sun on October 7th. Through a trick door into Sol’s inner sanctum, even the glare of Mercury’s paparazzi flashes are no match for the dazzling heart of the Sun. From the fertile dark of the New Moon to a baptism through fire, a new Mars cycle dawns in the Libra corner of your chart. Mars cycles incite two-year missions in our lives, the goals of which are seeded in the initial cazimi.
On the same day, October 7th, Venus’ ingress into the chaps and spurs of Sagittarius brings some needed adventure into our relationships and pleasure pursuits. ‘Tis the season of riding our trusty steed into those Libran sunsets, and if we can clearly visualize what ‘happily ever after looks like’ we are less likely to tie ourselves into Mercury Retrograde pretzels of acquiescence.
Mercury finds its own dialogue with the Sun on October 9th, ensuring that these new cycles will be informed by fresh epiphanies and reflections — if we can cultivate the space to tune into this transmission.
Before forging ardently ahead, it could be wise to consult our maps, take an inventory of supplies, and sit with our deepest desires a little longer.
Your New Moon horoscopes are written affirmation-style and are meant to be read as inspiration. If you know both your rising sign and sun sign, please read both horoscopes. You’ll know which one resonates more for you from week to week. Take what works for you, and leave the rest. If you want to share this work, please credit the source by quoting it and providing a link to this post and website. Thank you for your support and for spreading the work around. We really appreciate it and you.
The following horoscopes were written by Stephanie Warner.
Aries & Aries Rising
This New Moon, I celebrate the worthy challenge of sharing my life with another. Against the whetstone of other people’s resistance, foibles, and personal agendas, I welcome the opportunity to sharpen the blade of my own convictions.
I also recognize the artful balance within symbiosis: the falconer giving more slack at the first flicker of tension. Accommodation is a dance, and I’m ready to learn the footwork.
In the more bristly patches of cohabitation — when my roommates’ dishes have grown a pelt of mold, and the vacuum cleaner bag is filled with hair (not my own) — I rise to this occasion for acrobatic diplomacy. I count to 1000 if this is what it takes. Even battling a flurry of passive-aggressive post-it notes, I reframe these affronts as an opportunity to open the channels of communication and practice the fine art of negotiation.
We are social creatures, after all, and underneath our petty kitchen sink dramas we ritualize more primal questions. Am I safe here? Am I worthy of love? Am I still part of the pack?
Within the more elaborate rituals of decorum, I try to listen for the emotional pith informing harsh words, ideological skirmishes, or sneaky subtweets. Everybody hurts. Everybody’s scared. Why don’t I start there?
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Taurus & Taurus Rising
This New Moon, I reacquaint myself with the rush of syncopation: the ringing of hammers and tongs. I allow the propulsion of my working rhythm to carry me through the bottle-necks and flurries of deadlines. I trust myself to dance through these time-crunches. I know when to strike, and when to let gravity do the rest.
I can keep every plate, torch, and bowling pin in the air if I do not overthink this. Mistress of my craft, and intrepid collector of calluses, this grace was hard earned. It will rise to this occasion.
Right now, I know, perfection is a trap. Like Medusa’s gaze, it petrifies everything that flows into stone. The hunger for perfection will never be sated. In fact, I have the audacity to make my flaws my signatures. Asymmetry, after all, is the celebration of process. I know that the collapsed wall of an earthenware mug catches the light and delights the eye.
Finished — with dropped stitches — is better than never starting at all.
I also recognize when I am overly attached to the cult of the hustle; the toxic pedigree of exhaustion and capital’s desire that its subjects be worn down. Burnout will serve nobody: not my clients, my co-workers, my work — least of all myself. I demarcate my rest with Justice’s sword, and I do not apologize.
Work is love made visible, after all, and love keeps no hostages.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Gemini & Gemini Rising
This New Moon, I make it my mission to carve out niches of worldly delight. I claim my parcel of the sensual world and pluck the fruit that’s bending branches. Ejected from the death cult of productivity to a lost Eden of repose, I know my soul will find greater harmony here.
I do not have to squeeze market value from every waking hour. Conditioned to reach for my phone, and turn this sunset into a branding exercise, I instead celebrate everything that will not be captured. The subtler dimensions of light, for one.
Even if my fingers catch on burrs of shame, I firmly disengage them. In this season of burning the midnight LED, I recognize when mirth may inform my research — though these capers require no justification.
I also take note of how children play: inventing the rules of engagement as they go. The fluid shifting of hunter and hunted, as the ‘tag’ floats between them, and these games ritualize the edge of some power play that must be unpacked. Or the vanguard parlor games, which allow me to see language as play and divination.
Something wilder is released when the chains of syntax are severed.
I consider what stubborn sorrows or frustrations could be processed through the walled garden of a game. I recognize what needs the permission of the mask, or the safe haven of the stage.
A wild and impolite impulse is waiting to tread here, seeking catharsis.
So be it.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Cancer & Cancer Rising
This New Moon, I am hacking through drywall, and ripping out carpet, to get at the foundations of my anchorage. When they say a house has good bones, what are the bones of my house?
I consider what void in my life has been wall-papered over, rather than repaired. I locate the deeper tracts of wood-rot. I discern which ancestral stories are truly support walls, and which ones ring hollow when I risk a knock.
If my psyche has been parceled, through difficult times, into the safety of tiny rooms, when is it time to reach for my crowbar and open this space? What am I afraid I’ll see if I let the light stream back in?
I recall the way a handful of nails, some scrap and cedar branches, could provide generous shelter. How the wind whistled through these childhood forts, and the cracks let the stars in.
I wonder when I lost this lightness in setting down roots. Is there a home I still carry deep inside? If I’m in a state of domestic transition, can I make like the hermit crab and fashion shelter from the nearest tin can?
For now, I bring my favorite lavender soap to the hotel room; I cover the sub-let fridge with my Polaroids. I give myself permission to gather the people, the patches of land, the fog felting over the hills in the morning — everything sacred and unclaimed — and call this my home.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Leo & Leo Rising
This New Moon, I cast my spells with discernment. I consider the power of my inner monologue to invent the walls of my reality, or twist into a Minotaur’s labyrinth if I’m less than vigilant.
Sticks and stones are amateur hour, while harmful words lodge their splinters in my deepest nooks and crannies. I know the power of words to reverberate long after their utterance. I latch into the stories I already carry — filling in the gaps of my more lacerating mantras or tendrils of magical thinking.
The language of the law is binding. I recognize the power of litigation to change somebody’s life forever through a trick of syntax, or a linguistic loophole. This reminds me of my responsibility to propose, rather than pronounce; to engage with curiosity, rather than reach for a blunt epithet.
Though language swarms chaotically around us, I also know I am the architect of my own mental landscape. For every off-hand remark that shifts shrapnel in my soul, I can counter with daily offerings of gratitude. I can choose to silo the comment sections teaming with trolls, and leave them to their feeding frenzy.
I can give thanks.
I remember that language, like anything else, is a tool with great power — but also limitations. Between every word something more profound flourishes: the electricity of a glance, the pleasure of a booming laugh, or the way our bodies mirror each other in an unconscious but graceful dance.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Virgo & Virgo Rising
Money has a way of spreading its vines and tubers through our most intrinsic emotions. It takes up roost in the lizard brain. It puts its feet up in the limbic system. It presses buttons I didn’t even know existed.
This New Moon, I commit myself to the artful disentangling of this cat’s cradle. I recognize when a friend’s unpaid debt makes me prickle inside, and instead reframe this as an opportunity to hone my skills of tact and graciousness.
I remember that currency is social: a proxy for the complex ties that bind us — and blind us. Exchange fosters intimacy, or curdles into imbalances of power. Gifts become tokens of our soul investment in others. Behind our squabble of whose turn it is to pay the next round, a revelation of deeper tensions needs to be aired.
When they say money talks, am I listening?
I also consider the ways money stories flow an undertow through families, carrying the emotional residue of boom times and bust. I recognize how impersonal — how maddeningly cyclical — the flow of capital can be. There is freedom when I accept it’s not about me or my intrinsic worth.
I also recognize my agency to crawl out of the river of these unconscious stories — to reach for a trailing willow branch. I don’t have to starve for my art, or sing for my supper. My money’s roots don’t need to be entangled with the brambles of shame.
The deities that live in currency take the path of least resistance afterall. When I dare to clear space for my future abundance, they have a way of cheerfully rushing into this furrow.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Libra & Libra Rising
I hear myself in the way I am talking to you: the minute shifts in my behavior and the cadence of my voice. I am talking across the void to another, but I am also addressing what hasn’t yet been claimed in myself. I take mental notes.
I recognize the splinters that shift when an encounter leaves me feeling unseen and unwitnessed in all my usual charm and sparkle. The awkward interaction that sends two magnets spinning, and leaves an open question in the air. Or several. I dwell with this staircase wit — the predicament of thinking of the perfect zinger, later.
This New Moon, I see this hall of social mirrors as an opportunity to redefine myself. I parse the alignment between my outer layers and how I feel inside. I am patient with this process and remember that feedback is a vital loop: never a dead end.
I also remember that anger is crucial intel. Blushing brings this dissonance prickling to the surface — the tricky business of embodiment.
Instead, I hold these moments of disconnect between the soul’s airy grace, and the body’s heavier clothes, with humor. Even irreverence. I find ways to alchemize this disconnect into fashion: patterns that clash so good.
I also accept that in this social tapestry, my thread is not meant to be the entire cloth. The soloist will have its moment, but there is profundity in being carried by the looming of other voices.
I let others bear what cannot be born.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Scorpio & Scorpio Rising
Society has relegated rest as an afterthought, or a luxury. Our devices wage an insidious war on our circadian rhythms. Sleep-hygiene reduces it to a bodily function, and apps break it down into clinical (sellable) data.
This New Moon, I go deeper: to the chthonic depths of my subconscious, where angler fish trail their alien light wands. I recall how the inkiest depths of the ocean are even less explored than space. So it is with the concentric rings of the inner self. Naps shall be my bathysphere through these fathoms.
I pledge myself to the kind of rest that society deems unproductive, indulgent — a spanner in the works of capital. I consider this space of stillness, non action, and even boredom, as a place of fierce resistance. A space where my soul can finally breathe and deeper, invisible processes can begin their service in the fertile dark.
When I demarcate this refuge from social media, the 24 hour news cycle, the ceaseless hustle, I open myself to that original internet — the collective unconscious. I know there’s a transmission here for me: it’s waiting for the hush of perfect stillness to approach through the dark pines of my mind.
I know that I risk betraying myself if I push through the exhaustion, or grind this heavy machinery forward, again, on fumes. For now I have a choice: to claim my sacred rest as a crucial part of the life-cycle. A place that will be rightfully honored.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Sagittarius & Sagittarius Rising
With this New Moon, I practice grace and care in the way I weave through my communities. I am humbled by the part I play in its intricate ecology.
I accept that a seemingly insignificant action can alter the entire system: with the wind that skims off a butterfly’s wing, the greater organism recalibrates to absorb this shift in the force.
I understand that all networks are held together through meticulous, unspoken choreography. Bees and their fancy footwork transmit intel about pollinating flowers. Trees chat about the weather through inaudible clicks that travel the matrix of their roots. Elephants stamp warnings to other packs in sound waves, racing thousands of kilometers, through the resonant dirt.
This connectivity, the beautiful patterns we make — it’s the essence of life itself.
When they say no person is an island, what they mean is that I am tethered to an archipelago. Anchored in the same earth. Connected to processes much larger than myself. Even the internet runs in iron cables deep in the sea bed, vulnerable to the whims of sharks.
Tripping the zeros and ones fantastic — waging our Twitter wars with endless anons, avatars, and trolls — it’s easy to forget the earthen context of our communion.
Wish upon a star, they say, but what if I pledged my hopes and dreams to a humble stone, and slotted it into the fertile mud? What if I whispered my deepest desire into the whorled ear of an ancient oak?
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Capricorn & Capricorn Rising
This New Moon, I trust the flow and connectivity that grace me when I chart my soul’s true path. The way that obstacles seem to melt when I have the audacity to travel the vocational ley-lines of my passion and pleasure.
The resistance I encounter as I dare the dazzling alpine light of the public world kicks up mighty winds. The struggle forms muscles and agilities I didn’t know existed. They will carry me through.
Though our society champions the vista, the Instagram money-shot, I remember that praxis derives from the Greek for ‘doing´. The joy, and soul-tempering struggle, of my work is right now. This moment in time.
For all our Saturn-stamps, gilded laurel crowns, and donor names cut into marble, I consider how this vocational force feels in my body, in motion, in the medium of time. Does it light up the lamps in my spine? Am I ‘present’ in the ‘continuous’ of my work?
If I find myself reaching for the dissociation of Candy Crush, what do I need to change in my career so it roots me in the vital flux of the world, rather than severs me from it?
They say we must leave our mark on the world, but what if I thought in terms of the ways the world presses into me — my footprint in the pliant mud, rushing with water. The way my contribution’s bright flame locks into the mosaic of other art.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Aquarius & Aquarius Rising
This New Moon, I delight in the tango between experiment and hypothesis. I ask bold research questions, and I open myself to the thrill of being proven wrong (as well as right). I am tantalized by the mysteries beyond the limits of human knowledge: that frisky quantum pounce.
I also remember that despite the cliché of the lonely scholar, secreted in their turret, learning is a social process: my argument weaves in and out of citations of the living and the dead. The medieval rituals of the academy or other institutions of knowledge: I find a way to time-travel between them. I was born for this threshold.
Whether I’m a psychopomp of the stacks, or a cosmonaut of YouTube physics tutorials, I lean into the social dimensions of this journey. I draw strength, and camaraderie, from my fellow travelers.
As much as I feel like The Fool traipsing along the cliff edge of my mind, I choose my rabbit holes with discernment. I know that my laser focus can burn a hole through self-care and more mundane responsibilities. I always come up for air.
I also remember that this is a journey with diversions, quirky pit-stops, and loops of course-correction. I find that artful balance between a playful, wandering mind, and the more penetrative tunneling of the sediment layers in my field.
Breakthroughs often slip through the showers and afternoon walks, when my mind is quietly occupied by other rhythms.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.
Pisces & Pisces Rising
This New Moon I remind myself that mourning is not a linear process. The stages of grief are a deck that’s forever cut and reshuffled. I step in and out of this living stream.
Like the prayer mazes that offer comfort to those feeling unmoored, I surrender to the loops and digressions of this process. I remember that time is said to be a thing that whorls, rather than an arrow shot into the sky. The path ahead is circuitous because I need time to dwell with my grief.
Even when I find myself exactly where I started, I place my trust in the wisdom I foraged along the way. It’s not all for nothing. When the path loops back to that same patch of black ice, my feet unconsciously dance around it this time. I may be pulled by the entropy of trauma, back to the site of my wound, but I am responsible for what I do when I get there.
I begin to see this process as sacred cartography: mapping my triggers, mind-traps, and growth edges, this healing feels more manageable. As I wander the moors of my sorrow, an alien, frozen landscape begins to shrink in size: the crumbling stone wall, the slough, the wizened oak — my old friends.
There may be no shifting those iron roots, or ancient slabs, but I can plant my rows of winter vegetables between them. Perhaps we never let go of certain wounds, but we can learn to hold them very tenderly.
The New Moon in Libra renews our inner equilibrium as Mars and Mercury seek counsel from the Sun. We’ve got you covered with altar suggestions and a guided meditation on the CHANI app.