There’s something deliciously poetic about watching my teenage Runner ducks manage their world right now. At 14 weeks old, they’re in that gloriously awkward stage – too big to be babies, not quite grown enough to have it all figured out. (Sound familiar, fellow human?)
They remind me of where we all are right now – in that powerful pause where nature gets real with itself. Mercury has started its illusionary backward dance, the season’s shifting, and everything feels like it’s caught between what was and what could be.
Speaking of Mercury Retrograde (I can hear the collective groan from here), I want to clear something up: it’s not the cosmic equivalent of that chaotic friend who shows up to brunch and somehow creates drama with the waiter. It’s more like… well, imagine you’re on a train platform. The train next to you starts moving, and for a moment, you could swear it’s you who’s in motion.
That’s Mercury Retrograde – a cosmic optical illusion that’s less about things going wrong and more about seeing things differently.
Having said that, here’s what this particular season is inviting each of us to explore:
π Re-view (like my ducks reviewing their reflection in the pond, equal parts curious and suspicious)
π Re-flect (on the stories we’ve been telling ourselves)
π Re-align (with what actually matters)
You know those shadows you’ve been trying to shush? The ones that feel too big, too messy, too complicated? They’re not the villains in your story. They’re more like… well, like my ducks at dusk – casting long shadows that look intimidating but are really just evidence of light existing.
This is your permission slip to:
– Send that “hey, I’ve been thinking about you” text
– Finally crack open that journal you bought (you know the one)
– Listen to the songs that shaped your teenage dreams
– Make peace with your past self’s choices (they were doing their best)
Because here’s what I’m learning from my lanky teenage ducks: transformation isn’t always graceful, but it’s always purposeful. They stumble sometimes, their feet too big for their bodies, their quacks caught between baby peeps and adult declarations. But they keep going, keep growing, keep exploring.
And maybe that’s the real invitation of this moment – to welcome the awkward, beautiful process of becoming.
Truth doesn’t have to be a weapon.
Values don’t have to be walls.
Conviction doesn’t have to mean condemnation.
In a world that demands we choose sides, maybe the bravest choice is learning to hold complexity with grace – just like how my ducks somehow manage to be both completely ridiculous and utterly wise at the same time.
So yes, maybe double-check your important emails. Back up your data. Read the fine print.
But also?
Maybe the real purpose of this retrograde is to slow us down just enough to catch the whispers we’ve been too busy to hear.
To sit with the questions until they transform into doorways.
To remember that sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is simply pause and listen to what the silence has to say.
Because Mercury Retrograde isn’t out to get you. It’s trying to get you to get yourself.
π Oh, and the next time you feel like everything’s moving backward, remember – sometimes you have to retreat to advance.
