This post is highly Northern Hemisphere centric, so keep that in mind as you read if you’re from the south (or closer to the equator). There’s a lot of discourse in the Northern Hemisphere at this time of year, specifically in the spiritual community, around the seemingly contradictory nature of having a new year in the dead of winter (although I’m about to outline why it’s not contradictory at all and it’s exactly how nature intended). Capricorn is a feminine sign (where we got it wrong) Capricorn is a feminine sign—earth, yin. It was never meant to be a sign related to the hustle and grind, but somehow this sign and time of year has been long associated with an external measure of success—money, status, material possessions. A dick swinging competition that leaves us feeling dry and empty over time. I believe the resistance comes from misunderstanding the natural world and looking at the sign of Capricorn with a patriarchal lens. As time went on, productivity was pushed on us until January 1st became something it was never intended to be, a time of immediate action and productivity. I used to view Saturn (the ruler of Capricorn) as a man. He was grumpy, authoritarian, and carried a stick around to beat me into shape when I would fall out of step. He had expectations of me I couldn’t uphold even if I was doing everything he said I needed to do. I thought nothing good would come without working hard, even if it killed me in the process. I thought hardening my sensitivities and pushing through with brute force would get me where I needed to go. I thought I had to climb the corporate ladder as I gained more prestige, money, and power above those beneath me. I thought I had to claw my way to the top using the bodies of everyone who was also racing for success because if they got there before me it would mean I had failed—maybe there wouldn’t be enough room at the top by the time I got there. But it never quite felt right. Until one day I realised Saturn is a woman—a wise grandmother, the matriarch—kind, encouraging, soft yet stern, and deeply present above all else. She’s the one who holds the vision for me when I can’t hold it myself, and instead of beating me into shape with a stick, she gently guides me to find my own wisdom from within, allowing me to find answers that are true to me rather than telling me how to do it her way. She knows what she’s responsible for while holding healthy boundaries, and that inspires me to learn what I am responsible for, too. She shows me what it means to be a true leader of my life by holding leadership in her own life—inspiration over authoritarianism, integrity over performance. Softness isn’t weakness, saying no to responsibilities that aren’t mine to shoulder isn’t selfish, listening to the cues of my body and respecting how I feel isn’t failure—it allows me to be present with purpose, and purposeful in my presence. Knowing what I’m responsible for creates clarity, devotion, and a true sense of fulfilment because I know exactly where to place my front foot as I move forward. It allows me to focus on the follow through because each step forward creates muscle memory. I feel so filled with purpose that if my mind tries to have my foot step on someone else’s path it wouldn’t be possible because I’m so in step with who I’m becoming that my body wouldn’t let it happen no matter what my mind has to say about it. The true Capricorn measure of success is what fills you with purpose from the inside. It’s the ability to be present with what is, and having the courage to change course or recommit to your future. “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” — the Serenity Prayer is grandmother Saturn, the essence of Capricorn energy. Darkness comes before the dawn: the return of the light This time of year in the Northern Hemisphere brings long nights and shorter days for some, depending on where you live. Things slow down, take longer to wake in the morning, and retreat earlier in the night. There’s a quietness of winter, like when the snow falls and everything around seems to have lost its sound until the only sound you can hear is the snow crunching beneath your feet. It’s barren, cold, and to the untrained eye it could seem like everything is dead—but that’s not the case. When it’s quiet we can hear our inner thoughts without the external noise, which is why this time of year is arguably the best time to set goals, because if we are met with external silence and aligned with our innermost workings, our goals are more likely to be aligned with our true essence and purpose. In modern times, New Year’s Resolutions have taken a different tone, unfortunately. People around the world set goals based on the outside world, they search for the noise even in the dead of night—get thin, get money, get the things that make me look good rather than what makes me feel good. When we remember that Capricorn is a feminine sign, we remember to include our intuition and our inherent sensitivities in our decision making process. We soften into the body, we feel our desires, we notice what’s alive within us knowing that under the blanket of snow is a dream waiting to be birthed, a seed ready to sprout at the first sign of spring. Grandmother Saturn reminds us we are already whole as we are, there’s nothing to fix because we were never broken. The New Moon A part of my soul withers when I see an astrologer discredit this new year, because how can someone tell me the new moon—the darkest night—is a new beginning, but somehow the darkest days are not? Everything begins in the dark. There’s a quiet preparation that happens when there is an absence of light, but societally we’re conditioned to believe the dark is bad and scary, quiet means something is missing, fast pace and productivity rule over presence. Even when the snow covers the land, there are seeds forming under the surface, hot spot embers waiting to catch wind and reignite when the snow melts, dreams waiting to be realised, death nourishing new life. There’s a reason we only dream while we sleep. It’s the mother who wakes up in the early morning before the sun and her kids so she can find presence within herself before taking on the day, connecting with self and creating the structure to be able to hold her responsibilities with full presence after tending to self first. The darkness is the new beginning, and just because it looks like nothing is happening on the outside, there is so much happening under the surface. After the darkness comes the light in both the lunar and solar cycles. The beginning of Capricorn season in the northern hemisphere holds similarities to the new moon phase. Capricorn season begins on the day the light of the sun begins its return—the days start getting longer and our life force slowly comes back. Much like the new moon phase where the light of the moon is returning too. Is returning of the light not cause for celebration itself? New beginnings are slow. Good things take time. Capricorn energy and grandmother Saturn know things that last take time and care to build and bloom, yet in a time where we place more value on speed and convenience, we tend to lose patience for delayed gratification and purpose that’s rooted in integrity. Some of my best ideas were born during the darkest days and nights—both physically and metaphorically. It’s where hope lives, where we can hear our own voice, where we can take a blank slate and create something new out of nothing. Connection to the natural world Those who are closest to the natural world know this time holds great value in the process. I grew up in a community where farming and fishing fuel our economy, and let me tell you—things don’t stop just because it’s winter. The winter is the time where those who work hard during the on-season now have time and energy to celebrate after a long season. As thing… This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit kaitlynramsay.substack.com/subscribe
