June 9 sees Venus & Jupiter locking lips in Cancer for once-in-a-decade kiss & you DON'T want to miss the show
Hey beautiful weirdo,
Just thought I’d check in and make sure you're actually milking this brief moment of cosmic sanity for everything it’s worth.
How’s your head? And how’s your body? Did I catch you marvelling at the vastness and beauty of the sky above, or rather staring at a wall wondering why everything feels so profoundly intense right now?
Take a deep breath..no, really..do it! Fill your lungs with whatever real oxygen we’ve got left before the corporations try to monetize it. Hold it, feel your cells waking up, and as you exhale, spit out the doomscroll poison you’ve been swallowing.
We are currently sitting in a delicious, golden pocket of absolute cosmic pleasure, wedged right in between some seriously fucked up astrology, and I am not about to let you sleepwalk through it.
Grab your coffee, your tea or your favorite vice, and let’s talk about how we’re going to weaponize this gorgeous astrology to ghost the robots & invest our full focus into growing you own local resistance of peace & kindness.
So, Tuesday June 9, about that time..The benefics are throwing a massive party in Cancer before the Gemini New Moon demands a ruthless upgrade to your life’s priorities, just your casual weekend soul homework.
What strikes me about this week isn’t some grand promise of destiny descending from the heavens to personally anoint us with purpose. It’s much smaller than that, which is exactly why it matters. Venus and Jupiter are meeting in Cancer, one of the most generous and life-affirming alignments we’ll get all year, and they’re doing it in the sign of home, belonging, nourishment and the people who show up when your life falls apart.
The culture keeps selling us the fantasy that salvation is somewhere else: another city or another job, another relationship, another follower count, another reinvention. Always within a reach if you only pay premium.
Meanwhile, this astrology keeps pointing stubbornly toward what you already hold in your hands. Your friends. Your neighbours. The weird little community you’ve accidentally built over years of shared cigarettes, favours, heartbreaks, dinners made from pantry scraps that are somehow more memorable than any restaurant visit, and from simply just bearing witness to each others unfolding story of survival.
If there is magic here, it isn’t glamorous. It’s remembering that resilience is collective. It’s making plans with people you trust. It’s investing energy into something tangible, local and alive. Something that makes you in turn feel alive.
Particularly early in the week, there’s a rare sense that what we nurture now could actually sustain us later. Not because the future looks easy, but because it doesn’t.
Of course, the universe rarely serves dessert without slipping something sharp underneath the plate. This beautiful Venus-Jupiter moment immediately runs into Saturn, demanding that we separate genuine support from comforting fiction.
The systems of support we place so much value in that secretly drain our life force instead of replenishing it. And the atmosphere keeps shifting further under our feet. On June 12, Uranus squares the lunar nodes and a hot knife of insanity slices through our buttery smooth week of pleasure and blessings. Uranus rarely knocks politely. He prefers kicking a hole through the wall, allowing for weird & shocking news to come flooding through. Plans change and people start making decisions that seemed impossible twenty-four hours earlier. But as it is always with astrology that happens FOR US and not to us (we did already establish that, right?), whatever gets disrupted now isn’t necessarily falling apart to throw another wrench into your already malfunctioning year. It may simply be refusing to remain frozen in a form that’s already expired.
Then, on June 13, Venus strides into Leo and pure, undiluted desire returns to the room. So does pride. So does the realization that some of us have been accepting crumbs from people who wouldn’t survive a day on the diet they’re serving others.
Venus in Leo isn’t interested in shrinking, apologizing or pretending not to know her worth. She wants joy with a pulse, affection with leo-loud enthusiasm and relationships that don’t feel like unpaid internships.
By Sunday, the Gemini New Moon arrives with a sharp pair of scissors and very little patience for gaslighting (ourselves). It’s a weekend homework of ruthlessly scrapbooking the shit out of our book of our life. Something gets cut out, something else glued in with glittery stickers.
Which conversations leave you feeling more alive? Which ones leave you needing a shower? Which habits are actually serving you and which are just familiar enough to feel safe even if they look like shooting yourself in a foot over and over again?
Gemini is curious, but it’s also shows zero pity or compassion when it finally gets bored. This New Moon offers a rare chance to change your mind about something you’ve mistaken for a permanent truth. The algorithms and AI-generated influencers, paid agents of chaos disguised as podcasters, the digital era propagandists will continue auditioning for your attention.
Let them. You have better things to do.
Every New Moon is a beginning and this one comes carrying a chance to stop feeding the narratives that keep you small and start investing your energy in the people, in the ideas and possibilities that make you feel more fully alive.
Because every season eventually asks the same question in a different costume: who and what are you feeding? The systems profiting from your distraction would very much prefer you remain isolated, overwhelmed and convinced you’re powerless. This astrology suggests otherwise.
It suggests that your most radical act may be refusing cynicism, choosing connection and trusting living human beings over the endless machinery trying to monetize your fear.
••●••
And so I have built you something.
Ok, yes, I've spent an arguably unhealthy amount of time dissecting this astrology in my latest article. I break down exactly what's unfolding through the rest of June, why this fleeting pocket of sweetness matters so much before the summer starts getting weird and how these transits land in each rising sign's chart based on the houses they're currently stirring, blessing, provoking or casually setting on fire.
Because astrology is never just "Venus in Leo" or "Gemini New Moon" in the abstract. It's the specific chapter of your life that the sky has decided to scribble all over. I've also put together what amounts to a survival manual for this transition: guidance for every rising sign, a guided meditation for those of us whose nervous systems interpret good fortune as an immediate threat, a ritual designed to pry open our often-rusted capacity to receive pleasure, and a custom tarot spread with journaling prompts to help translate the astrology into the language of your own story.
Because the real work is in learning how to stay present enough to hear what’s trying to come through for us & to receive what it's trying to give you.
Kuba Vitek-Girard
