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December 1 through December 7, 2025

The astrological highlight of the week will be Thursday’s full Moon in Gemini, but if we remember that the full Moon is active about a week ahead of time until it waxes full, there’s good cause to keep an eye out for its influence starting on Monday. The Aries Moon on Monday is great for productivity, but it can also cause extra stress as we try to accomplish more than possible in a 24-hour period, so let’s pace ourselves and stay in the moment! A Taurus Moon hangs overhead Tuesday and Wednesday, adding a more grounded and stable energy to all our movements. The Gemini full Moon shifts our focus to communication skills and social interaction through Friday, compelling us to spend more time talking and less time acting. We’ll drift through the weekend under a watery Cancer Moon, gravitating to whatever strikes our fancy, and the main theme will be relaxing in the comfort of our own homes, in the presence of our friends and loved ones.

The Complex Offerings of Grief: Changing the Legacy of Loss, by Elisa Donovan

(Article originally published in The Llewellyn Journal.)

We live in a society that is uncomfortable with discomfort. Technology and progress are geared towards efficiency. The focus is on making our lives faster and easier, making our consumption greater, eradicating any waiting. When it comes to grief, however, there are no shortcuts. There's no new gadget that allows us to bypass the suffering that comes with loss. There's no easy way out; there is only through. We have to sit with the ache. Grief teaches us that sometimes discomfort is a necessary part of progress.

When we're grieving, it can feel like we are shutting down. As if all parts of us are withdrawing, far away from the world that we'd previously inhabited; a world that made sense to us. And that may be true. But I think simultaneously, we are experiencing an opening. This withdrawal is also a removal of the interference and the distraction of everyday life. A distraction that often muffles our deeper connections and stifles the soul's voice. I believe in some way grief can allow us to get quiet and find a stillness where the whispers of spirit can come through. Where we are clear enough to hear them.

The first person I knew who died was my grandmother; I was 8 years old. Her favorite flowers were African violets, a fondness for which my mother acquired. My mom was never very good at keeping plants alive (I grew up with a lot of dead ferns hanging around), so when the African violet in our kitchen started to brown and wilt on the same day that Grandma died, I didn't think much of it. But then when we returned from her funeral a week later, miraculously, the flower was in full bloom again. As if it had been replaced by a new one. I remember my mom catching her breath when we walked into our kitchen to be greeted by this flower, now vibrant purple and thriving. Mom said simply, "Grandma’s here." I didn’t understand what she meant then. But I certainly do now.

To me, part of the reason these kinds of connections with our loved ones in spirit are so powerful is because there is no interference. That static has been removed. I look at them like direct, pure, unadulterated communications. In all of my experiences with this, as varied as the details may have been— the who, the what, the where, the when—there is always a consistency to the way it feels. Like a pure, all encompassing sensation that is more powerful than anything I've experienced in the physical world alone.

I've had lost loved ones reach out to me in varying ways. Through music, through other people, through psychics, through dreams, through random acts in the physical world. When I was writing my book Wake Me When You Leave, a memoir about losing my father to cancer, I felt the nudges from him constantly. Sometimes in small ways, like a brief sensation, a sense of ease or peace washing over me. And sometimes in very concrete and jarring ways, via otherwise inexplicable events.

One such event occurred when I was writing the chapter about a visitation dream I had with my father. The dream opens with a girl walking a horse on a sidewalk in a sort of idyllic suburban neighborhood. A horse on a sidewalk in the physical world is a somewhat unusual sight, but in the dream it was nothing out of the ordinary at all. At the time I was writing that chapter, we lived across the street from an elementary school in a flat in the Marina district of San Francisco. This part of the city has a sort of suburban feel— no traffic lights, only stop signs. Relatively quiet, wide, streets. I would write in our living room that had a big picture window overlooking the street outside. At this particular moment I was feeling discouraged about the whole project— the book and the film associated with it that I was trying to get off the ground. I remember shutting the computer and saying out loud, "This is just never going to happen. Horses on the sidewalk?! This is stupid and no one will get it. What am I thinking?!" Tears started to well up, when I heard a strange sound coming from outside on the street. I thought it sounded like… horses hooves on pavement. I couldn't and didn't believe my ears. Until the sound got louder and louder and I looked out that window and sure enough, there they were: Not one, but two policemen on horseback. One walking in the middle of the street and one on the sidewalk. Needless to say, there were never horses in our neighborhood (nor were there ever policemen for that matter). In fact I had never seen a horse anywhere in the city whatsoever. I jumped up, flabbergasted and mouth agape, as I watched them mosey on down the block like it was the most natural thing in the world. Clip clop, clip clop. I felt that all-encompassing sensation throughout my body, flushing through me. A heightened yet softened reality, and I sat back down with a reassurance. And kept writing.

Just before Wake Me When You Leave went to the printer, I was in the midst of doing my final author proofread when dear friends of ours experienced an unimaginable tragedy—the violent loss of a 9-year-old son. As a parent myself, this is the unthinkable. I don't know that anyone has the proper words to articulate what that kind of loss does to you. I think of my friends—the boy's mother and her partner—and their loss daily, sometimes hourly. I long to help them. I so deeply long to have the magic salve that will relieve this mother of her grief, and to be able to comfort her partner who had planned to become the boy's stepfather. My logical mind tries to assemble the perfect concoction of words that will alleviate their pain. But every time I attempt to, I am stung by the harsh reminder that I cannot take away a mother's grief. I can't pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. And I can't remove the weight her partner feels supporting her, while simultaneously trying to process his own trauma. I see that it feels insurmountable for them both. So I do what I believe is the only thing I can do to assist them through this unfathomable time: I check in with them, I tell them I love them and am thinking of them. I listen. I am a witness to their pain and I acknowledge it, trying to reflect back the fierce love they have for that boy. Neither of their lives will ever be the same. But how they will be different remains to be seen, and is up to them.

I've been told that when a child that young is taken from their mother so tragically, that they will return back to her. My heart deeply hopes this will be true for my friend. It is still very recent and so fresh, but there have already been inklings that perhaps he might. Shauna, the owner of The Crystal Shrine in Los Angeles, helped me choose some crystals and stones for my friend. All I told Shauna was that I had friend going through unimaginable grief and loss, and I wanted her to have something she could carry with her to help process her grief. Without knowing me or my friend and the specifics of her situation, Shauna said, "Oh. Was he very young? A little boy with dark hair? He's letting me know it's him." She went on to say that sometimes the spirits will come through to her like that, but not always. Shauna's own husband had died suddenly and unexpectedly years earlier, and she believes that he often helps her with this kind of work.

Children also seem to be closer to these sorts of connections. My daughter, who is now 8, has always had a very tangible connection to the other side. I've been told that she met my own father over there, that he held her in his arms, before she was born to me in this life. And when she was 4, she knew that my father-in-law had passed before anyone else did. Then, coming out of the shower just the other night, she told me she had a "crazy dream" that we got all dressed up to go and meet our friends' new baby— the friends who recently lost the child. "Why would we get dressed up to meet a baby??" she laughed, as if that was the strange part, and not the fact that our friends had privately just told us that they are thinking about having a baby. They know that having a baby will not replace their loss, nor will it extinguish their grief, but if my daughter's dreams are any indication—perhaps the soul of that boy will indeed come back to them.

I often picture my father on the other side laughing with a kind of giddy glee. Like he's urging me to let go of my tedious frustrations and fly— to understand that there is so much more than this physical world we inhabit. I think our loved ones long to reach us to share with us the peace and clarity to which they've moved on. To help ease our struggles in this life and free us from the multitude of attachments that we cling to within it. And the companionship their spirits can provide us while we walk the path of this life is an unrivaled kind of support. They can help us to know we are being looked after. That we are okay. That we are enough. That we are free. Although there is a huge emptiness we feel when our loved ones die, I do not believe that it is really the end. In saying that, I do not mean to disregard the deep feelings of loss; sitting with the stages of grief is vital to moving through and beyond them. For me, going through that painful process is how I eventually came to give it, and consequently my whole life, greater meaning. So yes, that loss changed my life forever, but perhaps that's part of the point of this life. If we can reframe how we look at loss, maybe we can shift its legacy into something beautiful.

Sometimes it still makes me sad to think of all of the things that my dad has missed in my life. There has been so much joy and so many big moments in recent years… But then I remember that he probably hasn't missed anything at all. He's been with me the whole time.

Article originally published in The Llewellyn Journal. Copyright Llewellyn Worldwide, 2021. All rights reserved.

My name is Kayla and I'm a Gemini. I had a dream that God was talking to me and he said that I used to be a girl named Kelly Somsky whom people called the shadow because one day I disappeared. He told me I was very religious. In my dream, he also showed me a picture of the girl that was black and white. She had brown hair and brown eyes just like me, but unlike me she, was thin. I have been reading the Bible lately and becoming more religious. Can you tell me what this dream means?

Kayla

Susyn:

You dream has many interesting clues for you to examine. For starters, it is a sign that you need to look more closely at yourself, at who you are and where you are headed. This type of dream often inspires the dreamer to make important changes in their life in order to better align with their soul and destiny.

As a Gemini, you were born into the world with two separate and distinct personalities. We all have a light and shadow side, so it is interesting to note that God referred to a girl named Kelly who used to be called the shadow. The fact that she disappeared is very important, for it suggests that God was referring to a part of you that was hidden or buried early in childhood.

The girl's name is not as important as what you learned about her. Numerologically, the first name Kelly is a number two, which again suggests that there are two sides to you. Your name Kayla vibrates to the number five, which reveals that your intellectual nature is much stronger than your implied counterpart. Number vibrations are similar to astrology; they can influence us but do not absolutely define our personalities or destinies. To learn more, enter your full name and date of birth into a numerological website and find your destiny numbers.

It's interesting to note that in this dream, you were presented with a picture of a girl who looked very similar to you except for her size. This may indicate that when you were younger (and smaller), you had a much broader, more complex personality. Most of us can identify a point in childhood when our innocence and optimism were diminished because some event caused us to pull back and hide certain aspects of ourselves.

In the dream, you were told that you were religious. Religion is a good starting point when people begin to explore their spiritual nature. However, please be cautious about getting involved with any group that might try to control you through fear or moral edicts. You are perfectly capable of connecting with God one-on-one and making your decisions based on intuition, awareness and dreams such as the one you have described.

I feel this dream is calling for you to revive the small child within you and integrate her into your current life. When you feel stressed or confused, that's a great time to call on Kelly, invite her into the light, and learn more about her. A guided meditation or psychic reading can help you learn more about her as well, which will make it easier to meld with her and bring these two parts of yourself back together.

*****

Oceania:

Dreams are often about wish fulfillment, and dream characters are often a part of us. The name Kelly is a thinly-disguised version of Kayla since both contain the letters K, L and Y. Since black-and-white photographs are associated with the past, Kelly is a younger version of you who has since disappeared. She is thin like a shadow, as you once were when you were younger. You dreamed of her because you would like to recover and embrace that lost part of yourself - not just her size but her identity, too.

I encourage you to ponder whether the letters in Somsky bring anything to mind. I notice that it contains all the letters in smoky. Just as hazy smoke obscures vision, you were unable to see clearly that Kelly is you! The word also makes me think of some sky. Are you spending too much time indoors, reading? Do you long to breathe fresh air and see some sky? I recommend you walk through a local garden or park and let Mother Nature nurture you.

Dreams are symbolic, so the black-and-white photo may also represent black-and-white (all-or-none) thinking. It's not a matter of fat or thin; there are many shades of gray and many weights in between. The recent documentary Forks Over Knives, which depicts a loving approach to health and weight-loss, would be worth your while. Most libraries also carry DVDs to help you exercise at home; as little as ten minutes a day would make a difference!

Back to all-or-none thinking: it's not a matter of you being religious or not religious. Pleasure and virtue, body and soul don't have to be mutually exclusive! When we examine the history of the Western world, we see that the ancient Greeks and Romans found value in all aspects of humanity: physical health, intellectual pursuits, artistic expression, sensual pleasures and good character.

Between the fall of their civilizations and the late 1400s, about a thousand years went by during which Christianity promoted asceticism. It was deemed better to suffer in this life as Christ did and put off rewards until the afterlife. The Renaissance brought renewed focus on the joys of earthly life. I believe we can celebrate these joys AND live spiritual lives.

If you are overweight, you may be using food to numb out painful feelings. Becoming very religious is yet another way to avoid oneself by focusing on the soul and excluding the body. I encourage you to seek some counseling so you can reclaim Kelly along with any lost feelings and wisdom she may hold. Bring her out of the shadows and into the light!

Astrea:

Many times in life we hear, "You will always have what you NEED, but not necessarily what you WANT." Your spirit must have needed to experience the feeling of leaving your human body, and the suggestion in the next chapter of Sylvia Brown's book was all it took to get you there.

Even though you hadn't read it yet, your SOUL recognized the title of that chapter as something it had been seeking, and your soul, knowing that you had that reference to read after your experience, got with it and out you went!

While I don't usually recommend her books, Sylvia Brown has a wide reaching and powerful effect on lots of people. A Gemini like you would be able to relate easily to her writing and put it to good use. Synchronicity - you gotta love it!

I like your description of "getting caught." That's exactly what it feels like, isn't it? One minute you're free and hovering above the room, and the next minute, ZAP! back down into your corporeal form you go!

As a little kid, I loved that "feeling of return." With practice, most of the time we can control that event, but sometimes, when our physical ears hear a distracting noise or something else occurs to knock us back into reality, back we go. With practice you will be able to control your return better.

I find it interesting that you were visiting your mother-in-law and not someone in your own genetic family. Evidently, you and your husband got married for reasons that are even deeper than love. His family's interest in "psychic stuff" will nurture your children in such matters and help them to grow into their own abilities.

You'll never have to be concerned that when your daughter visits them, she'll be discouraged from exploring her own psychic life and power. My parents encouraged me to develop my psychic senses in a time when it wasn't nice to even discuss such things in public. Heck, it's STILL not considered a great topic at the dinner table in some families!

Your kids will get to talk about it ALL and ask questions and read and study. This is going to give them such an edge in life! Talk with your husband about how you want to present this to your kiddos, so that you are united in your approach and ready to tell them their experiences are all natural and okay.

A word or two of warning: Geminis often have difficulty staying grounded in REAL LIFE. Don't get so strung out on your ASTRAL life that you neglect what you're doing here on Earth.

You are at the beginning of a long journey to learn where your power really lies. Try to be patient with this process and take your time.