Aquarian Imbolc, Uranus turning direct, and the wisdom of winter stillness

I hadn’t checked out Pinterest in a while, so I innocently, naively, opened the app and was immediately sucked down a time-warping wormhole. I’m just now popping my head up to the surface, like a groundhog who’s been subterranean longer than intended, trying to get out of its shadow.

Straightaway (like second pin in), I was engulfed by an ad for this remarkable Atlanta-based watercolorist and her abstract landscapes created from homemade earth paints. She was so up my alley. I gleefully skipped right down hers and into a dark corridor of my own.

It’s a well-worn rut of mine; I should be making art. I got my B.A. in art. I love art!

Off I went, plunging into her online classes. I’m a motivated learning junkie — much to my betterment and demise. She’s teaching me how to make watercolor paints from the earth (totally in love with her now) using rocks, clay, dirt and more. I’m enraptured. I’ve been teaching classes about the medicinal uses of our local plants and trees for years. Earth paints?!? I’m all in!

And all in I go. I quickly feel the all-too-familiar anxiety of doing too much at once. Psychotically, I hastily pressure myself to build a body of work for a show and secretly plan the curriculum for my Anderson Ranch class. (I literally just laughed out loud at my absurdity, writing that sentence.) Hilarious! But it’s true.

My stress is ramping now, because I already have my regular work to do. Have I mentioned I’m currently writing a book too? (And, yes, I already see myself on an Aspen Words panel.) I’m totally freaking out about how I’m going to fit work, writing, watercoloring, making earth paints, and, of course, skiing into my already busy schedule. I’ve got to get good at this earth pigment, abstract landscape painting thing, quick if I’m going to have my first art show soon.

As I explored the astrological energy of this week, I realized I was right on target to learn this week’s cosmic lesson. The vibes right now invite awareness — with stillness. Sit with it first. Dabble. Land on what’s emerging, wanting to shift, and then sit quietly. Let it unfold. There’s no need to rush, no pressure. At present, it’s just about letting the ideas come, the knowledge, and becoming more conscious of what you want. It’s not an all chips in, let it ride, do or die kind of week.

Uranus is stationing direct on Tuesday

Last week, I wrote about these big outer planets all finally changing signs for good: Moon Mondays: Here’s why everything feels so intense. Now, Uranus is moving towards its Gemini destination (at least for six years). Uranus governs awakening, disruption and liberation — all Gemini themes as well. Uranus begs us to become more aware of what needs changing to set us back on course.

Concurrently, it’s Imbolc, the ancient Celtic festival marking the midpoint between the Capricorn, winter solstice and the Aries, spring equinox. When the sun reaches fifteen degrees of Aquarius, we are officially halfway through winter (and pretty much the ski season too). The light is returning; we begin to sense the promise of spring.

Imbolc means “in the belly,” life stirring underground. Seeds nurtured deep within the earth, we imagine the warmth to come, with quiet hope. Imbolc isn’t about bulbs blooming yet, though. It’s about tending our inner flame, listening for what wants to emerge, and preparing for action — later in spring.

We’re no longer in the darkness of Capricorn’s endurance, but we’re not yet in Aries’ outward momentum. Aquarius fosters awakening, insight, and vision, but at Imbolc, that energy is still internal, same with Uranus changing directions. There’s a stillness before the speed, when the pendulum is at the height of its swing.

Uranus, in Taurus until April, likes to move slowly, enjoy the ride, and savor the beauty. Aquarian Imbolc asks us to wake up and reimagine our lives as we see winter’s finish line approaching. Astrologically, they mirror a moment when new ideas, truths, and desires are forming below, not ready for execution — but very ready to be noticed.

Pay attention when unconscious material begins to surface: quiet dissatisfaction, new longings, less tolerance for old patterns, restlessness, and intuitive nudges that something wants to shift.

Not yet a time to act — it’s a time to notice what you can’t ignore anymore

Uranus stationing direct and Imbolc are both about dormant energy beginning to rouse. Not exploding forward yet, but unmistakably waking up. Something is stirring beneath the surface — not ready to move, but no longer asleep. The future whispers. The only requirement is that we listen, before the ground fully thaws and movement becomes inevitable.

For more astrology insights, you can find my regular astrology coaching columns in The Aspen Times.

🌙 Sheridan 

Astrology Coach & Moon Sisters Circle Guide

I work with women to break old patterns, make clear decisions, and take real-life action using astrological insight