Today, the sun enters Gemini. Here we are: a season of mutability, of sparkling change. Now is the time to follow your curiosity where it leads you. Now is the time to allow your energy to shift and brighten and change its shape. You don’t have to feel stuck anywhere, not even here.
Though it’s been spring for a while now, here’s when it starts to feel like it. The start of spring was for planting seeds, for being reborn into the world, for building, for relearning who you are. Now that the sun is starting to shine and we find ourselves on the precipice of summer, it’s time to actually go out and see and explore and share what we just spent the past two months building.
This isn’t an exploration of the great unknown–the kind that comes with college or careers or space, like it is for Gemini’s sister sign, Sagittarius. Taurus season only just gave us the tools to feel secure in our identity, in what we uniquely bring to the table. Gemini season is about learning to communicate that identity to the world, about exploring your surroundings, sharing what you know, adapting. The idea of an outside world and life after youth still feel so abstract. Before seeing everything the world has to offer, first, you have to know yourself.
There’s something to be said for nights spent alone in your room listening to music and sulking; for Friday afternoons that somehow pass both too quickly and too slowly, when you and your friends walk around waiting for a new street to appear where you’re sick of seeing the same ones you pass every morning. Maybe you’ll go home for dinner and realize that you didn’t “do” anything all day, but you talked for a long time and found yourself relating to people in a way you hadn’t in a a while. Maybe you’ll start watching a movie alone at home because you feel distant or lost, and realize by the end that you’ve found a little piece of yourself in the characters, and feel connected to the world for a brief moment.
There’s something magical going on when your own world might be the only one you really know, so you hold onto the things that you love extra hard, the bands and movies and books and friends. Think of Gemini season as a teenager, still learning to be a person, hating everything, making every emotion and experience more intense because you’re experiencing it for the first time. Going to the mall with your friends just to hang out, agonizing over how boring and uncool it all is before you learn to find it funny.
When you want a change of scenery but your vacation isn’t for another few months, you have to create it yourself. Take different routes to and from school or work or your friend’s place. If you walk through alleyways, houses you’re used to seeing start to look different, and telephone lines become interesting, and new dimensions seem to appear. Seek out places that don’t look like your own. If you walk along the patch of grass by the highway, you might be able to convince yourself you’re anywhere else, in a place you’ve created, far from the neighborhood you know.
Gemini season is being sixteen years old and keeping a diary–an archive of your unedited, stream-of-consciousness thoughts–knowing it’s easier and less daunting to do so when you remember that not everything has to be incredibly profound. No formatting necessary, just throw everything in there, wrappers and clippings and napkins and notes. It’s all the love letters Lara Jean kept in a blue box in her closet. It’s my first kiss outside of a 24-hour-diner on Halloween, worrying if I did it right, wanting to get home immediately to text all of my friends about it. It’s what Tumblr was in 2013. It’s making a mood board, experimenting with your style–sharing, creating, adapting.
Gemini season is a time to absorb everything, go through phases of different interests and identities, and come back to yourself with whatever has stayed in your mind the longest. It’s scary, but exciting, and through this next month, it might feel necessary. Once it’s time to come out on the other side, you’ll have an especially unique way of taking everything in.