Astrology weekly report🪐✨
July 14–20, 2025
This week unfolds like a slow tide—gentle in motion but full of undercurrents. With Saturn, Neptune, and Pluto already retrograde and Mercury now joining them, we are officially in the season of turning inward. The universe is not asking us to speed up. It’s asking us to pause, to listen, to tend to what we’ve left unattended. Growth is not always linear. Often, it spirals backward before it moves forward—and this week, we spiral deep.
On Monday and Tuesday, the Moon moves through Pisces, and memories return like dreams with unfinished endings. You may feel more emotional than usual, more introspective, or nostalgic for something you can’t quite name. This isn’t a sign that you’re regressing. It’s a sacred invitation to recalibrate. Pisces doesn’t need you to explain your feelings. It wants you to witness them. Let the tears come if they do. Let the past flicker through your body like film. Let yourself feel, without trying to fix.
By Wednesday, the emotional tide begins to shift. The Moon enters Aries, and something inside you stirs. You remember who you are—and what you’re no longer willing to carry. After days of drifting in emotional fog, Aries energy is blunt, reactive, and raw. You might feel like you have something to protect, even if you’re not sure what it is. The world may suddenly feel too loud, too fast, too sharp. But Aries doesn’t ask for perfection. It asks for movement. Let yourself speak the truth. Let yourself tremble and do it anyway.
Beneath the surface, Saturn and Neptune meet in a rare exact conjunction on Wednesday, merging the grounded with the spiritual, the structure with the sea. These energies don’t move quickly—they dissolve and rebuild you from the inside out. If you’ve felt heavy, untethered, or unclear, it’s because you’re standing at a threshold you’ve crossed before in a dream. The veil is thin. The lessons are deep. You are being rebuilt in ways that don’t show up on the surface just yet.
On Friday, Mercury officially stations retrograde in Leo, joining the retrograde chorus and asking us to rethink how we express ourselves, how we communicate our joy, our stories, our hearts. Words might feel harder to find. Or harder to trust. Technology may glitch, but so might your inner dialogue. Are you saying what you mean—or are you performing? Are you speaking from your ego—or from your essence? Mercury retrograde doesn’t punish. It invites you to pause before reacting, to listen between the lines, to rewrite your truth with more integrity than before.
That same day, the Moon meets Chiron, Our wounded healer. The pain of not being chosen, of not being seen, of doing it all alone may surface without warning. You may overreact to something small. You may not recognize your own voice in the mirror. You don’t need to force clarity. You need to be gentle. Tell the truth—to yourself first. Not everything has to be shared to be valid. Not everything has to be fixed to be felt.
By the time we reach Saturday, the Moon has moved into Taurus and we begin to land. After a week of fire, emotion, and unraveling, the energy slows. Taurus reminds us that healing is not always a grand revelation. Sometimes, it’s in your morning coffee. In folding the laundry. In the way your body exhales when no one is asking anything of you. The Moon connects gently to Jupiter, Mars, and Pluto, helping us remember that power isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s rooted. Sometimes it’s silent. Sometimes it’s found in the way we choose peace over chaos.
On Sunday, the Sun forms exact trines to both Saturn and Neptune. These are subtle but deeply stabilizing aspects. You may not have a five-step plan. But you’ll feel what’s real. You’ll sense what’s worth protecting. You’ll know what you’re done explaining. And most importantly—you’ll remember how to hold yourself. Not because everything is resolved, but because you’re no longer abandoning yourself in the process.
This isn’t a week for rushing ahead. It’s a time to slow down, take a breath, and remember that strength doesn’t always look like movement. Sometimes, it looks like stillness. Like reflection. Like choosing to care for yourself in quiet ways no one else sees. Growth doesn’t always come with a breakthrough—it often begins in the small, steady moments where you choose to stay present. You don’t need to have all the answers. You don’t need to prove anything. Just keep showing up, honestly and gently. That’s more than enough.
@healwithsprout
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