New Moon in Leo

Last week I was running my first Summer Camp at the farm and we had a blast. I honestly almost forgot about everything else I had to do while I was there, splashing in the stream and foraging for fairy house materials. At one point, while we were walking the stream, the kids got excited when the sand began to collapse around their feet. “Quicksand!” one of them squealed in delight. It wasn’t real quicksand, obviously, but that feeling of the sand slipping away beneath your feet as you slowly sink, the cool water rushing over your skin-it’s strangely soothing but also a bit unnerving, which is sort of how I would describe the energy coming into the New Moon in Leo this week.

I don’t know about you, but the last few days, maybe weeks, maybe months, have felt like wading through mental quicksand. Like trying to stay balanced while the ground keeps shifting beneath us. I guess I’m lucky I got a little practice with this last week with the help of my new little friends from camp. I came back from living in nature every day to my normal adult responsibilities and the dreaded news or social media doom scrolling and thought to myself “I just want to go back and chill by the stream.” The world is loud, fast, and strange right now, and we’re all just trying to figure out how to live meaningful lives while the old paradigms dissolve around us. And in the midst of it all, this New Moon in Leo rises, quietly but unmistakably, asking us to come home to ourselves.

The New Moon arrives on July 24th, with both the Sun and Moon in Leo, the sign that rules the heart. And with Mercury retrograde in Leo too, our mental energy is turned inward. This isn’t the time to shout, post, or prove anything. It’s a time to listen. To yourself. To your exhaustion. To what’s still sacred and real beneath the noise. This is not a flashy Leo Moon. It’s not the roar of center stage. It’s the kind of roar you feel in your chest when you finally tell the truth, even just to yourself. The lion doesn’t need to perform, and that Leo energy is reminding us that who we truly are is just fine.

Pluto in Aquarius sits directly across from this Moon, bringing emotional pressure and asking us to get honest about where we’re gripping too tightly. Eris in Aries is stirring what’s been ignored, what’s been buried, what’s been quietly gnawing at us beneath the surface. These two aren’t here to comfort, they’re here to clarify.

But we have a golden lion of an opportunity in all this tension, to find clarity, to remember simplicity, and to return to what matters. Leo, when expressed from the heart, is presence, not performance. It doesn’t need to dominate or seek applause. It knows its worth. It radiates, not because it’s trying to, but because it can’t help it. This Moon is inviting us to reconnect with that version of ourselves—the one that doesn’t hustle to be seen or heard, but simply knows who it is.

Mercury retrograde may bring doubt. It might make it feel like your words are landing sideways or your voice is caught in molasses. But that’s not failure, it’s a pause. A recalibration. A moment to remember what your truth sounds like when no one else is around.

Pluto’s opposition might feel like something cracking open. Pressure rising. Stories unraveling. But Pluto only breaks what can’t hold truth anymore. And Eris, the goddess of discord, isn’t stirring things up just for chaos, she reveals what’s been denied. There is always a purpose to Eris, so look to where you’re feeling the chaos and you’ll find the work that needs to be done. Her friction is a form of honesty. Neptune in Pisces, quietly in the background, offers a gentler note. A spiritual whisper that says, slow down. Dream again. Let intuition speak. Everything doesn’t need to be solved or spoken. Some things just need to be felt.

This New Moon isn’t about manifesting more, buying more, or becoming more. It’s about recognizing where we’ve made life harder than it has to be. It’s about letting go of the extra - old efforts, outdated identities, roles we’ve long outgrown, the ways we’ve stretched ourselves thin just to feel enough. I didn’t plan it that way, but looking back, camp gave me a little glimpse of what this Leo Moon is asking us to remember. That version of me, barefoot in the stream, covered in mud and surrounded by kids building mossy fairy houses, that was the most myself I’ve felt in a long time. No effort. No performance. Just presence. I want more of that. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe we don’t need to keep chasing after something else. Maybe we just need to notice where we already feel like ourselves, and choose more of that.

Choose one place in your life to simplify. Just one. Maybe it’s your morning routine. Maybe it’s how you speak to yourself when no one’s listening. Maybe it’s the story you keep rehearsing about who you have to be to deserve love. Let one of those things go. Let yourself see what happens when you stop performing and just exist. Here are a few questions to sit with, or journal through, under this Moon: Where am I trying too hard? What part of me is still performing for approval I no longer need? Where can I choose ease instead of effort?

Let me be clear, this isn’t about giving up. This is about releasing what’s become unnecessarily heavy. That constant push, the invisible pressure to go the extra mile even when you’re tired, the habit of tolerating situations that drain or disrespect you, none of that serves who you’re becoming. It’s okay to walk away. It’s okay to rest. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and the lion is inviting you to fill your own again.

As we head into August, Mercury will still be retrograde, turning direct just before the next Full Moon. Venus will move into Virgo, and the energy will sharpen and refine. But what’s planted under this Leo Moon isn’t loud, it’s steady and it’s real. And it will carry forward in ways that matter.

I didn’t know it at the time, but that stream, those kids, that week of fairy houses and creek walks, that was Leo medicine. Quiet, majestic, powerful, raw, confident, honest, radiant Big Cat Energy. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was full of joy, full of presence, full of me being myself without needing to be anything more. And maybe that’s what this Moon is whispering to all of us. Not to become something new, but to remember who we already are when the noise dies down and we’re finally just… there. Barefoot, laughing, and fully in it. I want more of that. And I think this New Moon is my reminder to choose it, over and over again.

You don’t need to shine harder. You don’t need to prove a thing. You just need to stop dimming who you already are. Let this New Moon remind you that simplicity is powerful. That presence is enough. And that being fully, deeply yourself is the most radiant thing you could ever be.