Solar Eclipse in Aquarius + Fire Horse
What do we have here? Another auspicious synchronicity? That’s right, we’ve got the start of the Year of the Fire Horse in Chinese Astrology and the Ring of Fire New Moon in Aquarius Eclipse on February 17, 2026. Lunar New Year always begins on the second New Moon after the Winter Solstice, and this year, it’s ushered in by a Ring of Fire Eclipse. The synchronicity I’m talking about here is the theme of fire, which is associated with initiation, transformation and new beginnings. And just a few days later we have Neptune and Saturn aligning at roughly 0° in Aries, the first sign of the zodiac and a fire sign. It all feels like the universe is amping up the intensity with all this fire power, and we’d have to bury our heads in the sand not to at least feel it. Patterns now seem about as subtle as a sledgehammer.
New Moon Ring of Fire Eclipse
This year, 2026, is a year of new beginnings, and the Ring of Fire New Moon Solar Eclipse and the beginning of the Year of the Fire Horse reinforce those themes. New Moons are about beginnings, even if we can’t make out where exactly the journey will lead. When a New Moon happens to also be a Solar Eclipse, that energy is amplified. Here, the darkness of the Moon isn’t about absence so much as revelation. Add in the Ring of Fire aspect and we’ve got the conditions for a pretty powerful reset. Who we thought we were, or what we thought we knew, may begin to fall apart. That can feel jarring, disillusioning, and disorienting, but it might be more accurate to think of it as a chrysalis moment. Something breaking down because it has to, so something else can be born. The possibilities here are real, which means instead of immediately defaulting to fear or bracing for impact, we do have the option to stay curious. And dare I say, even a little hopeful.
Since this New Moon takes place in Aquarius, themes of innovation, systems, collective responsibility, and future-oriented thinking naturally rise to the surface. Aquarius gets framed as humanitarian and visionary a lot, and sure, that’s part of the picture. But Aquarius also asks us to see clearly, to step back far enough to understand how things actually work, not just how we wish they did. That perspective can be liberating, but it can also reveal blind spots. Aquarius, like all zodiac signs, isn’t without its shadow aspects to watch out for. Detachment, technocracy, and overly intellectual certainty can creep in when ideas get prioritized over lived experience. Think airy intellectualism overtaking grounded practicality. Aquarius can come across as detached or spacey, This isn’t about demonizing systems or progress, but about remembering that real lives exist inside every theory, policy, and technological leap.
It does feel obvious that many old structures are under strain and beginning to crack, and that alone can be both unsettling and strangely relieving. Power rarely gives itself up without resistance. It adapts, often appearing cooperative while protecting its core interests.. That doesn’t mean we’re doomed or being tricked at every turn. It simply means discernment matters. Staying awake to nuance here isn’t pessimism. It’s part of growing wiser. This is where Aquarius does some of its best work. Aquarius is a big picture sign, viewing things from a macro, rather than up close and intimate. It helps us zoom out, recognize patterns, and question assumptions without immediately collapsing into reaction. Fire energy can bring urgency and passion, which is valuable, but it can also push us toward action before understanding has fully landed. Neither blind trust nor scorched-earth rebellion is being asked of us here. What is being asked is awareness. The ability to notice what’s being said, what’s being left unsaid, and what emotions are being stirred collectively. That kind of clarity allows us to respond thoughtfully instead of reflexively.
This year’s astrology has felt like a mishmash of complimentary energies, each bringing their own flavor to the cosmic recipe. It’s less like a neat stack and more like a trifle, complete with ladyfingers, jam, custard, raspberries, more ladyfingers…beef sautéed with peas and onions. Solid Friends reference, and yes, I know, I’m mixing a lot of food metaphors, so if you’re hungry now, same. But the point still stands. Each ingredient exists on its own, and none of them cancel each other out. Together, they create something layered and dynamic. That’s how this moment feels to me. Not mechanically perfect, but meaningfully resonant in a way that’s hard to ignore.
Year of the Fire Horse
And then there’s the beginning of the Year of the Fire Horse, arriving alongside all of this. I don’t experience that as a tidy astrological equation so much as another signal pointing in the same direction. Fire Horse energy carries momentum, freedom, and sovereignty. It’s embodied and ready to move. It reminds us that growth requires participation, not just observation. But fire also asks for care. Untended, it can exhaust and overwhelm. Included consciously, it fuels courage, creativity, and self-respect. The invitation here isn’t reckless action, but aligned movement. Beginnings formed under this sky don’t need to impress anyone. They need integrity, patience, and follow-through. They need us to stay present once we’ve named what’s true, even when that’s uncomfortable. If you’d like to read a little more about my take on the Fire Horse themes, you can read that essay here.
Together, these influences don’t cancel each other out. They complement and complicate one another, which feels appropriate for the times we’re living in. We may find ourselves moving along unfamiliar paths after this Eclipse, without a perfect map, but with more awareness than we had before. All of this follows a long stretch of reckoning, personally and collectively. Fear, anger, grief, exhaustion, even disgust didn’t arise randomly. They pointed toward misalignment, misuse of power, and compromises that no longer sit right. That discomfort wasn’t a failure. It was information. We weren’t meant to drown in it, but we weren’t meant to bypass it either. We needed to feel it so we could learn from it.
And this is where the hopeful part really comes in. Aquarius, at its best, reminds us that the future is not something happening to us, but something shaped through collective participation. When you zoom out far enough, it becomes clear that most people want many of the same things: safety, dignity, connection, kindness, and a world that works better than the one we’ve inherited. We may only have direct control over ourselves, but there are billions of us, learning in real time. That matters. Insight leads to better choices. Awareness leads to better systems. Growth is possible.
This New Moon isn’t asking for dramatic declarations or instant reinvention. It’s about coherence. About choosing beginnings that don’t require self-betrayal to sustain them. The kind of beginnings that last because they’re rooted in truth, not adrenaline or fear of being left behind. Slow and steady might not sound glamorous, but it builds something real.
There’s a particular kind of courage here, and it’s not the loud kind. It’s the courage of staying aligned once you’ve named what matters. Of moving forward without guarantees of approval. Of letting your actions quietly reflect your values, even if the world hasn’t caught up yet. Fire burns away anything and everything we cast into it, and as the perennial pioneering element, it’s ok if everyone doesn’t get it quite yet, it only matters what you plan to do with it.
The New Moon never promises certainty. What it offers instead is direction. A seed placed deliberately in the dark, with trust that growth will come in its own time. The Fire Horse quality of this moment suggests that when it’s time to act, you’ll recognize it. Pretending not to see the path forward won’t really be an option anymore. Ready or not. This isn’t a beginning meant to impress. It’s a beginning meant to last.
