It’s warm now, especially warm for northern Germany. I’m not sweltering like my friends in the southern US, but my spouse and I are throwing off the covers at night. Little breezes waft in from the balcony outside our bedroom, but the unfamiliar stickiness of our sheets still wakes us up every once in a while.

And the days are long, so long that it seems there is nothing but daylight. Nature has adopted a daily uniform of warmth and light. We are so blinded by sunlight that we don’t see the flickering otherness, the quick-change nights that appear and disappear before we look out the window.

But all around us, very specific changes are coming. My spouse has a new boss arriving in the fall. I’ve sent my novel off and am waiting for a response from a publisher. Our nephew is back living with us, until it’s time for classes at the university to begin again. Occupying his old room at the top of the stairs, he exists on the threshold between his teens and adulthood.

Everyone seems to be occupying this threshold place. Everyone is exiting one room, entering another. Doors are opening, but there’s still some hesitation. Can we take the next step? Can we really go in?

We are still attached to the past, and that’s because of the strong Cancer influence right now. A friend of mine in Venezuela is moving towards the new job he’s been dreaming of for years, and the new job is in Canada. At last, it’s happening. But looking back at his old life, what he sees is a bookcase in his old apartment. How to get this bookcase to Canada? This has required a lot of strategizing.

He might be able to work it out. He might be able to keep the bookcase. But I think, as we all cross the next threshold in our lives, there will be a lot more letting go than keeping.

The spate of new beginnings started with Uranus entering fiery Aries in late May, but the changes become deeper, more emphatic, and more lasting as we move through this next month. It’s the eclipse season, beginning with the partial lunar eclipse at the full moon of June 26, and continuing with the new moon and total solar eclipse of July 11.

The eclipses are in Cancer and Capricorn. Cancer is about processing feelings and dealing with the past, while Capricorn is about developing new forms, systems and strategies. At the same time, Uranus in Aries is also a player, keeping things in flux, rebelling against structure.

And the radical energy of Uranus also keeps us on these thresholds. Once we go in the door, it will be all about arranging the furniture, putting things away, and creating a nice, functional environment. But as long as we’re poised here, we could go anywhere. We can stay out here, wild and free, ready for anything, can’t we?

And so at the moment, we have three different energies, all at odds with each other. Water, fire and earth.

Water: the part of us that can’t let go, the part of us that cries and mourns and remembers. In July, this is strongest when the sun and Mercury are in Cancer, during the first third of the month. But all month, the south node in Cancer will give a certain need to sink into the comforts of the familiar.

Fire: the part of us that’s excited by change, and is ready to leap into something new. This is the passionate and heroic persona in each of us. In July, Uranus and Jupiter are in Aries all month, and both stimulate the need to define and express oneself, and to fight whatever dragons happen to show up.

Earth: the business-like, practical part of us, intent on creating solid, binding forms. In July, Pluto is in earthy Capricorn, giving its flavor to the age, and the north node is here too. We are living in a pragmatic age, and we are not really used to this yet. But, these days, it’s not really about being a hero anymore. It’s about learning to be good, productive earthlings.

However, if it was left up to Capricorn, it would just be a reworking of the old forms. Businesses and governments would change shape, but they would still be the ruling powers. It’s the fiery influence of Aries that brings in the individual, and makes her voice louder, stronger, more strident. What about me? My power springs from my soul, and there needs to be a place for that in this world.

And the watery influence is not just about sappy nostalgia. It’s about staying in touch with emotional sustenance during this time of change. And if this means spending more time on the threshold, that’s okay.

Power breakdowns have begun. We see it in the ever-increasing devastation of the oil slick. The dolphins don’t write updates, but they have many friends in the human world. People are aghast when the waves are spotted like lepers, when the moonlit sea has an eerie shine, when the sand clots and bunches.

Power does not break down because it makes mistakes. Big business and its government friends routinely scratch and scramble to cover up mistakes that injure vast numbers of people, and they always have. But in this time of power breakdowns, mistakes enter the public consciousness in a new way. There is a new sense of righteous anger.

And the watery energy of nostalgia contributes to the breakdown of power. We want our beaches like they always were. We are intuitively connected to the sea, and we mourn the lives lost there. Like the fires being set on the surface of the water, these sorrowful feelings also combust into anger.

The protests at the G-20 summit in Toronto are another sign of cracks in the power structure. Here you have economies in serious trouble all over the world, and the heads of state meet in Toronto to try to fix things. They work diligently, within their own view of how the world has always functioned and how it will continue to function. Meanwhile, the newspaper accounts say that the streets are full of thugs.

Yes, there was violence, but the streets were also full of thousands of peaceful protestors looking for a voice. In the mainstream media, nobody went out and said, “Say, what are you folks concerned about?” Now, when it’s so clear that the old order hasn’t worked, isn’t it time to consider some grassroots movements towards change? These movements aren’t going away. They’re becoming stronger.

The whole world is watching. The whole world watches everything these days. And it’s also true that the whole world feels everything intuitively, and that we often discredit our feelings because they aren’t reflected in the newspapers. I think it will be harder to discount them in July. We are going somewhere different, and it will take some people by surprise. But most of us, no. We know it’s coming.

Index of Jenny Yates' Writings on Lesbian.com