what are you supposed to "get" out of astrology?

an essay/rant on astrology apps, relational astrology, and more

This morning, I awoke to another one of these in my inbox.

Most folks who unsubscribe from the paid version of this newsletter do so for financial reasons, especially these days. We are, after all, in a recession. Budgets are tight, and whew, do I feel you all on that. But sprinkled in, every other week or so, is one of these.

We’ve discussed this phenomenon before, about how you can’t “hack” creativity. But it seems, during eclipse season (where, unsurprisingly, I’m having that eclipse axis hit my own 9th house which deals with teaching and spirituality and belief and, you guessed it, astrology), that it’s time to have this conversation again. But different.

What, in 2023, do people expect from astrology content?

Especially content you are paying for.

Especially content you expect to support your creative and/or professional life.

I know better than most. Not hubris. Fact.

I’ve worked for some of the most popular astrology apps on your phone.

In 2019 through early 2020, I worked for the astrology app Sanctuary as their Head Astrologer and Content Lead. I wrote their daily horoscopes (something which will whip even the most amateur astrologers into working shape), but also consulted on product.

I was an astrologer who could write, but Sanctuary was especially excited to hire me because of my marketing experience with startups. And because I was in New York, where the offices were, I was in the WeWork for meetings regularly about marketing, brand voice, audience expectations, and all the trial and error of things like daily tarot cards and branding partnerships that the astro-savvy Millennial would be interested in. I also refused to go through media training, because I knew that I absolutely did not want to be the face of an astrology app. More than once, the CEO suggested that I should go on the TODAY show, say, to promote the app. Our PR people could set it up. I said no; surely, someone else could do it. I didn’t know entirely what I wanted out of my astrology career, but I knew that I didn’t want to be explaining what the signs were on national television for a brand.

Meanwhile, Chani Nicholas and I were longtime mutuals on Twitter. She slid into my DMs in early 2020 asking if I’d be interested in a job. I was at Sanctuary, but I loved her work, and her methodology resonated more closely with my own, personally, than what I was doing at Sanctuary.

So we got on the phone, and then I had another call with her and her wife. I turned down their initial offer, which would have required me to move to California, but then they came back to me, saying it was okay if I worked remotely in NYC. And then I was their new Director of Content for the as-yet-extremely-on-the-DL CHANI app. Once again, I got that job because of my unique career intersection of marketing, writing, and astrology. I understood the astro, but also the user.

(And then lockdown happened. And a few months later, I got a book deal. 2020 was a big year.)

It was one of the most intense and educational years of my life. One thing I will offer is that I learned a lot about how a person becomes and maintains a brand, and I also learned a lot from Chani about how to protect yourself as a person within that enormous structure.

Cut to now, two years later, and I’m once again working, behind the scenes, on yet another astrology app. (There are a few of us in the industry who have worked on multiple astro apps and just sort of circle around all of them. It’s fun.) I’m contracting, not full-time, but I trust the people who are in charge and I think this one will be incredibly fun for the audience it’s intended for.

This is all to say.

I’ve written for and helped some of the most popular, ethical astrology apps around. I’ve seen the metrics. I know what kinds of information and dopamine hits most astro-curious folks are looking for. I’ve seen the money and sacrifices it takes to reach the top of the astro-heap.

That has never, ever interested me when it comes to my own astrology work. It has also informed the wildly divergent direction this newsletter has taken.

The timing of this newsletter in my overarching astrological career is interesting. Timing is the astrologer’s currency, after all. I started this newsletter only a few months before I started working for Sanctuary; part of my negotiation with Chani was that I would be able to keep my own public-facing work.

And so Astrology for Writers has grown alongside those apps I helped to build: a concurrent record of my progression in astrological knowledge and philosophy. A place where I always was able to do something wildly, wildly different than what I was writing for other people. 

So…. what, in 2023, does the average layperson expect out of astrology content? 

A quick hit of dopamine. Information to help orient their day. An affirmation of something to do, or something to avoid. 

But there is what I personally have come to think of as “app astrology,” which is either a dopamine or cortisol hit, or, alternately, is referential (let me check where the moon is, what the planetary hour is, I forgot my Mars sign), and then, there is the actual practice of astrology. 

What we do here at this newsletter? Is the actual practice of astrology. (It is but one way to practice. There are many.)

When you practice astrology, you are integrating the principles of the planetary cycles into your life itself. Here, there is reciprocity with the world around us, not merely a capitalist extraction of vitality from the sun, or manifestation from a verdant New Moon. Having nearly exhausted our resources here on earth, we don’t look to the cosmos as a new energy source to take from. Those of you who share my own (conservative, evangelical) religious background may also find it revelatory that we do not merely offer our prayers and gratitude, but also do, in fact, receive! Requests can be made. Wonder of wonders. 

Pallas K. Augustine calls this relational astrology, this way of living in harmony and intuitive knowledge of the cosmos. There is a heavily animist component to it, but also a simple way of going about one’s day honoring spirit. 

You can see how this way of living is also a way of mindfulness, that brings us into greater understanding of our intuition, our inner voice, our connection to those around us who are both corporeal and non. You might also, then, appreciate how this way of living may sensitize you further to your own creativity: to your impulses, to your body’s needs, to how you attend to your daily routines, to your muses, to your reading, to your inputs and outputs. 

For me, astrology has offered a path into a deeper spiritual practice with my ancestors and with spirit around me. It is the cyclical language of the universe I find most natural, most comfortable, although there are plenty of others that, at this moment in time, might well be labeled more scientific in nature. It’s all part and parcel of the same story, though. 

This mindfulness encourages a slower way of living. And listen: I still love my TikToks and video games. But astrology has slowed me down. Brought me into such deeper intimacy with my creative life and purpose. Its cycles offer containers for reflection, such as the Venus Rx Cloister for Creative Recovery so many of you participated in over the summer, as well as for action, as with the current group who are Showing Up for the Work with Mars in Scorpio (now closed).

Astrology has become so much a part of the cultural conversation that it now has its own category under Barnes & Noble Nonfiction. At this point, the field has ceased to be a fad — I really don’t see it going anywhere. In many ways, I am grateful for that. This is a millennia-old practice in virtually every corner of the world, with numerous traditions and lineages that deserve their time in the sun.

astrology and tarot! is its own section! WILD STUFF

This also means that there are people new to astrology discovering the practice every day. I appreciate that plenty of folks will likely continue to sign up for the newsletter and unsubscribe because of a misalignment of purpose, because they want to know more about their chart or something else that I won’t offer here. 

My hope is that the folks who fuck with it, fuck with it.

Thanks for being here. I’m excited to see how this practices continues to influence and change our lives — creatively, professionally, personally. Appreciate you reading, as always.

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P.S. Fun fact: Astrology for Writers is one of the oldest astrology newsletters on Substack! This spring, it'll turn 5 years old. Five years! (Has it ever been recognized by Substack? No. But I was profiled in the New York Times earlier this year, so there is that.)