It seems redundant to suggest that this year’s Leo Season will be “extra” or “dramatic:” since when does Leo ever tone it down? But this summer, as with last summer, we’ve got a fistful of eclipses coinciding with the month of Leo, and things feel loud, dynamic, and liable to switch it up on a dime.
Somehow, this seems fitting for a sign that has a reputation for owning it, strutting its stuff, and doing everything with a sense of drama and flair. In Leo Land, it’s a far bigger sin to be boring than it is to sacrifice a little truth for the sake of the narrative (and ultimately, the entertainment value).
Leo is often associated with the arts, creativity, performance, and theatre, because on an elemental level, it deals with expression. Expression is basically what happens when you project yourself outwardly into the world, offering up a form of poetry that describes the shape of who you are. This is merely the followup to Cancer, which is more outside-in than inside-out — a dynamic that you can quite literally see played out between the Moon and the Sun. Leo’s ruler, the Sun, emits life-giving rays from its own internal source. Cancer’s ruler, the Moon, provides a receptacle and reflects it all back.
The shift from the navel-gazing of Cancer to the proud, confident strides of Leo is a lot like the dichotomy between impressionism and expressionism. We care less about the immediate perceptions we absorb from the energies around us, and more about the drama of our subjective experience.
Leo, after all, is all about the ego identity we assume to make our lived experience on Earth more interesting. Without ego or personality, we’d all basically be one undifferentiated soup of consciousness that has nothing to learn or understand about itself, and that’s because there’d be no duality to raise those types of questions in the first place. But to experience consciousness as an easily bruised ego that is learning to define itself through the constant soap opera of “other people?” That’s the real shit. That’s worth breaking out the popcorn for. All the world’s a stage, sure — but it’s also possible to deliver a performance so riveting that we awaken something in the people watching.
Of course, this is where we get into “Leo on a good day” versus “Leo on a bad day.” In its most highly evolved form, Leo’s abundant joy can be infectious. Whether they’re the stereotypical life of the party or a slightly more subdued font of enthusiasm for their pet hobby or “thing,” Leo folks have a persuasive way of demonstrating their appreciation for life. The light that they emit is often vital and compelling, so it’s not at all unusual to find a pride of lions assembled around their gregarious ringleader.
The low-vibe flipside of all of this? A Sun that’s so blinded by its own light that it can’t see what’s around it; or a Sun that’s too accustomed to having everything else in the solar system constantly revolve around it. Leo can be self-centered, petty, narcissistic, and supremely needy, just like Cancer. Except this time, the neediness stems from an insatiable need for attention and approval — not a hunger for security.
Keep this spectrum of possibility in mind as we make our way into the hot, sultry domain of “fabulous,” because while confidence is a lesson we all need to relearn from time to time, there will always be a fine line between pride and arrogance.
Leo might not have all the answers, but here’s what it does know: the path to nobility lies in owning what you’ve got; always opt for peak radiance; do it from the heart, or don’t bother; and never settle for anything less than a “fuck yes.”
If attention is what you crave this month, try a daily, weekly, or monthly personal horoscope on for size. My transit reports keep you up to speed on how the cosmic weather is affecting your individual stars <3