Solar Eclipse New Moon in Leo
Kop van een leeuwin (1866 - 1939) by Bernard Willem Wierink
On Wednesday, August 12th, we begin August Eclipse Season with a total Solar Eclipse in fiery Leo. A solar eclipse occurs when the New Moon passes directly between the Earth and the Sun, temporarily obscuring its light. Astrologically, eclipses are often considered more potent New Moons, moments when endings and beginnings overlap, marking turning points more than your typical New Moon. This one takes place in Leo during the newly established Leo-Aquarius nodal cycle, activating the South Node side of that axis, traditionally associated with release, shedding and waning energy.
The Lunar Nodes
Just a few weeks ago, on July 26th, the lunar nodes shifted into the North Node in Aquarius and the South Node in Leo, beginning a new 18-month eclipse cycle. Since eclipses occur near the lunar nodes, this eclipse activates the South Node side of the Leo-Aquarius axis, which many astrologers associate with releasing old identities, outdated patterns or ways of seeking validation that no longer fit. I think of the nodes almost like the rhythm of the Moon itself. It makes it easier for me to think of the North Node like the waxing moon, the inhale, where we direct our light, hopes and aspirations on what we want to cultivate. The South Node is waning, the exhale, what falls away or into shadow to be integrated or released. Most astrologers refer to eclipses as wild cards or amplifiers of the New Moon, and since this one is in Leo, the focus is on the light within the self, and who we truly are when we stop pretending, performing or adjusting ourselves to fit in.
Leo is often reduced to confidence, charisma or wanting to be seen, but I think that misses the deeper symbolism. Leo represents the heart of the individual, our creativity, courage, vitality and what makes us special. Like every sign, it has a shadow. Leo can become performance instead of authenticity, seeking validation and adoration instead of self-possession, often confusing who we really are with who we think we’re supposed to be. Couple that with the North Node in Aquarius and you have a focus on the future, humanitarian endeavors, innovation and sharing our genuine gifts with the world. For the eclipse, Aquarius is taking more of a back seat to Leo, which is to be expected, but it offers a powerful and very necessary counterweight to all that fiery Leo energy.
Aquarius reminds us that we aren’t meant to remain frozen in the identities we’ve built. We are allowed to change and to adapt to new information or to new wants for ourselves. Aquarius and Leo both want us to share our gifts, not keep them locked in a vault never to see the light of day. They’re meant to be shared in whatever way is true for each of us, whether that’s through our work, our relationships, our communities or simply the way we move through the world.
Solar Eclipses in History
For most of human history, though, people didn’t know why the Sun disappeared. They only knew that, sometimes even in the middle of the day, the light simply vanished. Around the world, eclipses inspired stories of dragons, wolves, serpents and jaguars devouring the Sun. In China, people beat drums to frighten away a celestial dragon. In Norse mythology, the wolf Sköll was said to chase and occasionally catch the Sun. Across parts of Mesoamerica, eclipses were seen as a great jaguar devouring the light of the Sun. Different cultures told different stories, but they shared the same instinct: the Sun was being swallowed, albeit temporarily, and that meant something. Today, we understand the science behind it, but I don’t think we’ve outgrown the symbolism. Every eclipse still invites the same question: what has been quietly obscuring our light?
That’s what makes this eclipse so compelling. If ancient cultures imagined something devouring the Sun, then this eclipse asks a remarkably human question: what has been quietly devouring your light? Not your potential, but your enthusiasm. Your creativity. Your sense of purpose. Your willingness to be fully yourself. Sometimes it isn’t one dramatic event. Sometimes it’s years of trying to make something work after it’s stopped bringing you joy, purpose or that fire you feel when you’re doing something you love or know you’re really good at. Sometimes it’s slowly abandoning yourself to fit in, to keep the peace or to become the person you think you’re supposed to be. But who we think we’re supposed to be is rarely who we actually are. Life isn’t about becoming more galvanized, but about becoming more fluid while having a better structure underneath, more complex and also simpler. It’s a paradox and it’s a journey, not a destination, so we need to treat it as such. Eclipses can be great reminders of that.
The Lion Within
To me, this Eclipse Season feels like a continuation of everything we’ve been moving through this year rather than an isolated event. Between the intensity of the astrological new year, the symbolism of the Fire Horse and a Universal Year One, all that Aries planetary energy and the recent astrology, the message seems remarkably consistent: let go of what isn’t working so you can become more fully yourself. Not someone new, but someone more honest.
That may look like dramatic change for some people, but for others it may be much quieter or more subtle. You may find that a relationship that no longer reflects who you’ve become, or the career that you wanted so badly in your youth may now feel more like an obligation. You may have outgrown a long held desire or even neglected what makes your heart sing for so long you’ve forgotten how much it actually means to you. None of those things are failures. They’re reminders that we’re living organisms, not monuments to a past ideal. We change, we evolve, we grow and sometimes our lives need to change with us.
Where my mind keeps returning, though, is to the lion itself. And yes, I know, I’m a cat lady and can bring anything back to the feline mystique, but in this instance, we literally have a Leo Solar Eclipse. We’re watching the Sun disappear in the sign of the Lion, so what is the symbolism trying to tell us? We tend to think of the lion as bold, fearless and always charging ahead. I don’t think that’s the lesson Leo is trying to teach us. This Lion doesn’t need to roar for its power to be felt. The Lion isn’t pretending to be a lion, it is a lion. They don’t apologize for taking up space, for resting, for going after what they need to survive, and a lion never pretends to be something that it isn’t. It inhabits its nature with a quiet confidence that doesn’t require applause or permission. To me, that’s the healthiest expression of Leo. Not becoming the center of attention, but becoming the center of your own life again. And that’s a very different thing.
The way I see it, this eclipse isn’t asking us what we’re becoming. It’s asking where we’ve drifted away from ourselves without even realizing it. Where have we confused performance with authenticity? Where have we slowly abandoned ourselves to fit in, keep the peace or meet someone else’s expectations? Where have we kept pursuing a version of ourselves that no longer feels alive simply because we’ve invested so much time becoming that person? So much of why we stay is related to fear, comfort and the sunken cost fallacy, but at the end of the day, they are excuses. So, beneath the Leo Eclipse, I invite you to ask yourself this; What is consuming your light?
Performance, Purpose & the Devouring of our Light
If you’re anything like me, you’re probably already exhausted halfway through this year, and I find comfort in looking to the same stars people have turned to for thousands of years to see patterns and feel the kind of awe that comes from remembering how we are both terribly small and incredibly significant in this thing we call existence. And the astrology for this year seems pretty clear. Let go of what isn’t working, the old tropes, the old beliefs, whatever is tethering you to an outdated version of yourself, and prepare yourself for something new, and something on the other side of our comfort zone.
For many of us, social media and access to constant information has us living life virtually, and more often, more performatively than is healthy. I’m not denouncing social media, AI, technology or modernity, but it has its place and it shouldn’t be the only version of reality that matters. I’m sure many of you can relate, that the internet has brought us so much closer, we can share so much with so many people, it’s like how the printing press forever changed our ability to experience life without an interpreter. But like everything, there is the shadow, and the shadow actively rewards the hungry ghost in all of us looking for entertainment, community, information and acceptance. We may find ourselves performing for an audience we’ve never met, wondering what the algorithm will reward more than focusing on the content we’re sharing, focusing way too much on what headline will get the most likes and shares, or consuming false ideas that reinforce our fear and anger or spending too much of our real lives being distracted and disengaged from our friends and family.
It’s addictive, and it’s a negative reinforcement pattern that made me start to abandon my own voice, instead focused on reward metrics rather than following the curiosity that made me start writing again in the first place. It happened so gradually I barely noticed.
Performance quietly nudged purpose aside. And I don’t think that’s just a social media problem. I think it’s become a cultural one.
We’re rewarded for visibility over depth, productivity over presence and certainty over curiosity. We consume more than we observe. We react more than we reflect. Somewhere along the way, many of us stopped asking what genuinely makes us come alive and started asking what would be rewarded instead.
The irony is that I started writing because I was endlessly curious and I wanted to share that with other like-minded folks. I’m so passionate about mythology, art, history, nature, psychology, astrology and so much more. Curious about why the same stories, symbols and archetypes seem to emerge across cultures separated by oceans and centuries. Curious about what they might still have to teach us. The more I chased engagement, the further I drifted from that curiosity.
The way I see it, that’s one of the quietest ways we lose ourselves. Not through one dramatic decision, but through thousands of small compromises that slowly pull us away from what once made us feel alive. We become so busy consuming everyone else’s lives that we stop participating fully in our own. And social media is just one way it manifests. I’m sure you can name countless others that have slowly chipped away at your own life. This isn’t some indictment to make you feel shitty, but a recognition that we all have areas of our lives where we’ve slowly abandoned ourselves for convenience, comfort or the illusion of safety or belonging.
I don’t know about you, but I want my life to have meaning, not in some grandiose sense of fame or legacy with my name attached, but in the way I show up for the people around me. I want to leave the people and places I encounter a little better than I found them. I want to keep learning, keep questioning and becoming more honest about who I am. If my name is remembered for years, decades or centuries, that’s fine too, but that’s not what I’m chasing.
That’s one of the reasons astrology continues to fascinate me. It doesn’t remove our agency or tell us what to do. At its best, it offers a symbolic map that reminds us life unfolds in seasons. We find those same patterns echoed in mythology, religion, psychology and nature itself. To me, the point isn’t prediction. It’s reflection. The stars don’t make our choices for us, but they have a remarkable way of inviting us to ask better questions about the lives we’re already living and invite us to start noticing patterns and looking beyond ourselves for a better understanding of the world in which we live.
The Return of the Sun
I’m not here to tell you this eclipse is some mystical portal or that you need to reinvent your life overnight because the astrology says so. That’s not how I engage with astrology. For me, it’s ancient pattern recognition, something our ancestors from every corner of the globe revered and respected, and I love how it makes me see the world from a different vantage point. It makes me feel like I’m a part of the entire universe, not apart from it. I live on this amazing planet full of life, water and wonder, and sometimes I have to look up from whatever screen has grasped my attention to remember that. My cats are excellent teachers here, mini Lions waltzing across my keyboard or curling up in my lap as I immerse myself in an essay, reminding me not to confuse the artificial glow of the digital screen for my own very real light, but to find a way to incorporate this amazing technology in a way that’s healthiest for me. We live in a material world, and I don’t believe the goal is to escape it through spiritual transcendence. The way I see it, the point is almost the opposite, it’s about embodiment. It’s to inhabit this life more fully. To become more honest, more courageous, more compassionate and more completely ourselves in the living, breathing reality around us.
I’ve heard countless conversations about 3D, 5D and ascension, but very few about embodiment in the here and now. But as I grow and evolve, I feel like I’ve come to a place where I am shifting from thinking, living in my air element, so to speak, toward physical embodiment, getting comfortable with my earth element. And I can do that by participating in this beautiful, messy, extraordinary world we all share, and taking better care of my physical body. Eating slowly, appreciating every bit of life that helps sustain mine and really seeing it all. If any spiritual practice continually seems to encourage us to escape reality, I think we’ve missed something fundamental. Every mythology, every sacred story and every spiritual tradition eventually returns us to ordinary life, because that’s where our character is shaped. The Hero’s Journey is all about going out into the world but returning home and living. That may be the home you left, or someplace new entirely, but the point was to live in reality again. That’s where we love, grieve, create, forgive and discover who we really are.
For me, that’s where this eclipse becomes less about astrology and more about being human. Whatever you believe, our souls exist in the present, with this one physical body during this very unique and tangible reality. Rather than trying to escape it, I feel like this eclipse invites us to become more conscious of it and to stop performing our lives and truly live them A Solar Eclipse appears to devour the Sun, temporarily, asking us to notice what in our own lives have been devoured, or where we’ve neglected ourselves, where we’ve been living on autopilot and where we’ve quietly accepted a version of ourselves that no longer feels true. That’s very different from abandoning our responsibilities. If anything, it’s about learning how to honor our responsibilities without abandoning ourselves in the process.
And maybe that’s where the lion has one final lesson to teach us. Lions spend most of their lives resting. They conserve their energy because they understand something we’ve largely forgotten: not every season is meant for action. They’re fully present whether they’re resting or hunting. Neither state makes them any less of what they are.
There’s a difference between rest and distraction, and I think we’ve confused the two. We scroll, compare and consume until we’re exhausted, but exhaustion isn’t the same thing as rest.
Real rest isn’t passive. It’s intentional. It’s making space to hear ourselves again. To reconnect with what genuinely makes us come alive instead of what simply keeps us occupied. Sometimes courage looks like taking a leap. Sometimes courage looks like admitting you’re tired. Sometimes it looks like letting a dream evolve instead of forcing it to remain exactly as it was.
I think that’s another lesson hidden within Leo. The lion isn’t courageous because it’s constantly in motion. It’s courageous because it trusts its own nature. It doesn’t perform. It doesn’t apologize. It doesn’t rush simply because the rest of the world is running. It acts when it’s time to act, and it rests when it’s time to rest.
The stars may point to a season of change, but they don’t dictate its pace. Sometimes growth looks like action. Sometimes it looks like rest, reflection and integration.
If ancient cultures imagined eclipses as something devouring the Sun, they also knew something equally important: the light always returned. The Sun wasn’t destroyed. It was temporarily obscured. I think there’s wisdom in that.
Ultimately, I don’t think the goal is to become someone entirely new. I think it’s to become conscious enough to remember who we’ve always been beneath the performance, and intentional enough to choose how we want to live from here.
Healthy Leo isn’t about becoming the center of attention. It’s about becoming the center of your own life again. Not in the sense of ego or self-importance, but in the quiet confidence that comes from no longer apologizing for who you are or abandoning yourself to fit someone else’s expectations.
The lion doesn’t perform, the lion simply is the lion. Fully, completely, wholly. So ask yourself with the courage, bravery and majesty of the Lion, what has devoured my light? You may not have the answer right away, but simply asking yourself what you want out of your life and what’s stopping you is a good start, and if you pay attention to the signs, the rhythm of nature, your relationships and your own inner compass, you’ll start down the path that’s right for you.
What’s been quietly devouring my light, and what would happen if I let it return?
