This Sagittarius New Moon, right as the year closes, is bringing with it the medicine we need most: hope.

If you’re not quite woo, allow me to set the scene. New Moons are thought of as a time for setting intentions, to nurture something into fullness.

This particular New Moon is in the sign of Sagittarius, arriving at 8:43 PM (EST) on Friday, December 19th. Sagittarius can be thought of as the adventurer, the optimist, the student — a vibrant energy that encourages us to embrace the unknown.

This can sound trite given the year we’ve experienced.

But this New Moon is asking us to remember what transcends the here and now, what endures, and allow it to soften us. Sagittarius insists, “When the chips are down, what matters most is revealed.”

The tides of history are asking us to remember who we are to each other. And this New Moon, Sagittarius is urging us on, as if to say, “We aren’t born to suffer endlessly — we’re here to love, to play, to learn.”

Yes, even now. Especially now.

Send me back to Malta! 🇲🇹
These tarotscopes are brought to you in part by the magic of my ancestors. I’m working to secure dual citizenship and return to Malta, where my family is from. If you’d like to support me in my journey, please consider subscribing!

Check out your sun sign and your rising, if you know it!

Aries

Your card: The Chariot (Reversed)

New Moon assignment: Get out of your head.

Aries, I pulled the Chariot in reverse for you. I see this most often when the head and the heart aren’t in agreement. This can feel a lot like “one foot on the brake and another on the gas.” 

You may feel a strong desire to commit to a goal or check something off your list, especially with the new year just around the corner. 

But when your self-worth depends on constant striving and decisive action, this can hasten burnout. This New Moon may be an invitation to be with your heart instead of barreling ahead.

So, what joyful activities get you out of your head and wake up your heart? For me, this is dancing, but maybe for you it’s reading poetry, cooking an elaborate meal, creating a collage, or making out with a stranger.

Whatever it is, make time for it. Your vitality isn’t an afterthought, it’s your essence.

(Reminder: We’re not pursuing joy to optimize ourselves or achieve something, but to anchor fully into the present moment. We need you here, where life is happening. And you deserve to experience it!)

Taurus

Your card: The Fool (Reversed)

New Moon assignment: Take yourself less seriously, please!

The Fool is a card of new beginnings, of joyful naivete, of open roads. In reverse, this tells me that something is blocking this energy in your life, Taurus.

In the realm of self-development and mental health, we talk a lot about our inner children, but less so about our inner teens. This New Moon, I’m inviting you to reconnect with your angsty teenaged self — the one who wanted to fit in, figure it out, find their place.

Our teen selves instinctively knew where the lessons were to be found: In taking risks, going against the grain, and yes, looking foolish. What could you do in the next week or two that fits the bill?

I recently bought a puppet. Yes, I’m living with my parents right now, and instead of paying for LinkedIn premium or whatever, I bought a puppet.

Since then, I’ve been inventing new (and very unhinged) pranks to play when I video call my friends and family. 

But you know what? It continues to bring me an absurd amount of joy.

My younger self would’ve found this equal parts cringe and hilarious. And that’s the sweet spot we’re looking for, Taurus. Embrace the chaos. Your “cool girl” persona (gender neutral) isn’t fooling anyone.

Gemini

Your card: Queen of Cups (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Embrace your inner world.

Gemini, the Queen of Cups is known for her compassionate, intuitive, nurturing vibe. In a friend group, she’s the one that you fall apart with, because you know she’s seen it all and can hold it tenderly. 

It’s important to recognize how she sustains this, however — it’s by pouring into her inner world, staying in touch with her own feelings, needs, and desires.

This New Moon, I’m inviting you to create more intentional space to wander the halls of your soul. 

If you’re a creative, this is the perfect time to carve out an afternoon for yourself.

Try dabbling in your preferred medium, or taking a workshop or class that reignites your spark. If you’re not the artsy type (I’d argue we all are, but I digress), creating a playlist or writing a letter to your future self can help unlock this energy for you, too!

Remember, we’re not creating with an agenda — this isn’t the bridge to your future side hustle or another self-optimization opportunity. 

We’re creating in the spirit of Sagittarius, to explore without an end. Being a student of your own heart is one of the greatest parts of being human. Allow yourself to savor it.

Cancer

Your card: The Empress (Reversed)

New Moon assignment: Reconnect with nature.

Cancer, the Empress is known for her connection to the Earth, to the great mothering energy. In reverse, though, I imagine your energetic cup may be feeling a bit… light.

The culture likes to tell us that when our cup is empty, we need to withdraw. I find that for those of us who are deeply relational and empathetic, the idea of pulling back feels counter to who we are, or like a binary that doesn’t quite compute.

I’d like to offer a gentle reframe, in the spirit of the Empress. 

How are you engaging in your relationship with the Earth?

When’s the last time you touched a tree, swam in water, watched the clouds drift by? When did you last warm your hands by a fire, linger with the steam from a hot cup of tea, or wish upon the first star that you saw?

In other words: When’s the last time you allowed yourself to be held by Nature, however briefly? And did you reciprocate with gratitude, offering your total presence like the gift it truly is?

This New Moon, I’m not asking you to be less relational or to pull back. Instead, expand your idea of what and who you’re in relationship with — including the Earth, with all of its quiet power and magic.

Even for just a moment, let it reflect back the power and magic that lives within you, too.

Leo

Your card: Four of Swords (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Carve out a quiet moment.

Leo, I feel called to tell you a story.

As someone with ADHD, I’ve collected a lot of stories about myself over the years. One of those stories was that, “because of my neurotype,” stillness and total silence were intolerable — I simply wasn’t “wired” to find ease where there is no stimulation.

But after major surgery this year, I found myself recovering in quiet solitude for long stretches of time. Imagine my surprise when I realized that I genuinely enjoyed the silence, after years of proclaiming that silence was my mortal enemy.

The difference wasn’t that my mind was less hyperactive. But rather, I was no longer threatened by it — after surviving a near death experience, I was simply grateful to be present, observing my inner world with gentleness and appreciation.

The Four of Swords is a card associated with rest and stillness, especially after a period of blazing a little too bright.

This New Moon, I’m inviting you back into stillness.

In a world that is bombarding us with near-constant stimulation and distraction, it is a radical act to refamiliarize yourself with your inner landscape… and it’s downright luxurious to decide not to attach any meaning, good or bad, to what you experience.

Allow yourself to be surprised by what you uncover in daydreaming, staring at the ceiling or out the window. If that feels too big, just take a shower or a walk without the addition of music or a podcast.

The lost art of a wandering mind and grateful heart may be the exact reprieve you need.

Virgo

Your card: Three of Wands (Reversed)

New Moon assignment: Embrace the in-between.

Virgo, I see the Three of Wands in reverse appearing when frustrations connected to your past are blocking your future gifts. 

If you’re someone who has typically found a sense of pride in your obligations — a job well done, a ladder being climbed, a parent or partner taken care of — it can rock our world when those anchors are lost, be it through a job loss, a breakup, a stinging rejection, or feeling less needed, wanted, or capable overall.

I want you to remember that your responsibility to yourself in those moments isn’t to rush to fill the space. 

Instead, dig deep. Consider that your value and worth as a person are actually the most evident and simultaneously the most challenged when you have “nothing” to show for it.

Your worth is not contingent upon proving yourself. And it is exactly in these liminal spaces that you get to reconnect with the quieter parts of yourself.

Not the parts of you that strive or strain, but instead, the parts of you that know ease and tenderness.

One of the greatest and most precious obligations we have as human beings is to our own becoming. And this isn’t uncovered through relentless pursuit — some of the most sacred parts of ourselves can only be revealed to us by softening, through surrender.

If you aren’t sure where to start, set a timer and crack open that journal. Start with the words, “I almost forgot…”

Libra

Your card: Five of Pentacles (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Keep your heart open.

Libra, I’m going to hold your hand when I say this.

At your best, you bring a beautiful balance to tense and complex situations. Your harmonious nature is medicine, to be sure. But at your worst — which is to say, your most afraid — your desire to keep the peace can break your own heart.

The Five of Pentacles here tells me that you’re holding something in, and it’s costing you. You may feel the pressure to be the strong one, but what if I told you that there’s strength in letting yourself fall apart and be witnessed in that?

Start with noticing.

In the course of a day, how often do you feel a flicker of sadness, or tears forming in your eyes, just to quickly compartmentalize it? When someone asks how you’re doing, how often do you change the subject or avoid depth? When you’re struggling, how often do you reach for a distraction instead of connection?

What you do with that noticing is up to you, but I would encourage you to see these moments as opportunities to open up.

It doesn’t have to be drastic. A text that says, “Can we get lunch soon?” with a quiet commitment to show up soft. A pause before reflexively saying “same old, same old.” 

Lingering in a hug offered by someone you love, letting silence stay between you instead of rushing to fill it, allowing a tear to fall instead of blinking it away, or switching up your “hanging in there” for something more honest like, “It’s been hard.”

You may be thinking, “Well, it’s hard for everyone, I’m managing.”

Libra, you are included in everyone. You deserve care, managing or not. You’re not a magical exception to the basic rule — that all human beings need one another.

Allow yourself to have needs, to be soft. Your softness, too, is medicine, especially in a world that tells us to keep up appearances and carry on, even when it’s all falling apart.

Scorpio

Your card: The Sun (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Don’t keep your joy a secret.

Scorpio, now is not the time to dim your shine or be secretive with your light.

For those of us who derive a sense of power or mastery from all we’ve overcome, it can feel vulnerable to be seen in our joy, our laughter, our enthusiasm — but that’s the invitation on this New Moon.

Recently, my family was generous enough to bring me along on a trip to Mexico. There were moments where I left photos unsent, and was reluctant to even share that I’d left the country, because my joy felt brash somehow, like it was a designer purchase that I would be flaunting if I dared to be seen with it.

When I clocked the absurdity of being stressed about happiness, I had to ask myself: “Who does it serve, to mistake my joy for a commodity to stow away? Who does it serve, to regard my enthusiasm as an annoyance that must be portion-controlled?”

And I had to let that really sink in. Because while I’d be the first to tell my people that joy and vitality are our birthright, I hadn’t noticed just how often I reflexively tempered my light, especially during times of collective struggle.

Scorpio, I want you to know that it is exactly because of everything you’ve endured that, when your light is seen, it is all the more precious.

Send the photo of you beaming by the ocean. Share your favorite song with a crush. Ask a friend to watch the film you adore. Give the full “in this essay I will” monologue about the thing you’re passionate about.

There will always be those who misunderstand you.

But when you allow your joy to be fully witnessed, you weave yourself back into the fabric of community — and like it or not, some of our most beautiful blooms come when we allow ourselves to belong to one another again.

Sagittarius

Your Card: The Lovers (Reversed)

New Moon assignment: Seek out full-bodied joy.

It’s your season, Sagittarius (happy birthday!), and the Lovers in reverse wants you to remember who the hell you are, okay?

When we become so focused on the horizon — the next goal, the next gig, the next relationship, the next rent payment — we can slowly detach from our true essence, treating our joy like a rare event, instead of the lifeblood that makes any of this worth doing.

When we’re in a season of scarcity or pressure, we may unknowingly trade active joy (the joy found in engaging with something wholeheartedly) for passive joy (witnessing joy like a distant observer or experiencing it as a concept). 

For example, have you ever replied to a funny meme with “lol,” just to have your bestie who sent it yell from across the room, “I didn’t hear you laugh out loud!” 

Passive joy says “I thought that was funny, in my head” and moves onto the next thing. 

Active, embodied joy simply laughs, and then savors it.

When’s the last time you lived into joy instead of catching a glimpse of it from the sidelines? When’s the last time you put yourself directly in joy’s path, instead of hoping you’d encounter it later on?

It doesn’t have to be extraordinary. Starting small is perfectly acceptable! If you’re unsure of where to start, I highly encourage something nostalgic — 90s karaoke in the car, a favorite childhood flick, or reminiscing with an old friend.

Whatever you choose to do, commit to doing it loudly. Life is too short and too precious to do it any other way, my friend.

Capricorn

Your Card: Five of Cups (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Grieve so you can dream bigger.

When I see the Five of Cups, Capricorn, one word comes through clearly every time: Grief.

Don’t get it twisted, though. Grief is sacred.

It reminds us of how truly precious our time on earth is. Grief, especially with this New Moon, is not an invitation to drown, but instead, let everything you lost this year guide you toward what you want the most.

To find the current of life again, as it were.

This year, I had a medical crisis that nearly cost me my life. In that moment, if you’d asked me what this experience gave me, I would’ve been horrified. “Gave me? You mean, the medical PTSD? Or the financial ruin?”

But months out, I am overflowing with gratitude. The agony of that experience shifted my priorities so profoundly — grief gave me the freedom to radically reimagine my life, and the permission to begin again.

So, I’ll ask you what I asked myself this past summer: 

If I could start over and have anything I wanted, what would my life look like? 

What do I need to grieve (and what am I willing to let go of) in order to move closer to that vision?

Having my life come completely undone revealed to me what I thought I couldn’t live without, versus what I was actually willing to let go of in service of a bigger, more expansive life.

As it turns out, I was willing to shed a lot when I was clearer about what it was all for.

(I do recommend avoiding the whole “almost dying” route to glean this wisdom and, instead, stick to journaling about it!)

Aquarius

Your Card: Ace of Pentacles (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Take a little risk, as a treat.

Aquarius, this isn’t just a cliche, it’s the truth: Everything can change in a single moment.

When we’re stuck in survival mode, it’s easy to forget that our participation in life can be the very thing that transforms it. One chance encounter, one risk taken, one whim that turns into something bigger than we ever imagined.

A single domino falling can be all it takes.

What is the single domino you’re holding close to your chest? A fledgling dream or whim that sits at the edges of your consciousness, just to be swatted away like a fruitfly?

When I was in my early twenties, I had very severe agoraphobia. I only left my home to go to my nannying job, and I stuck to the same practiced route, no detours or dalliances.

And every single day, I drove past a very cute pie shop, promising myself that someday, I would stop by after work and have a slice of pie.

It took years, but finally, I found the courage to do it — and I had the kind of coconut cream pie that you’ll still dream about years later.

This may seem small in the scheme of things. At that time, it felt a little pitiful. It was just pie, after all! I didn’t meet a millionaire investor there or find my true love at the booth across from mine.

It took me years to understand that this was exactly what life’s about: Breaking free, taking little risks, finding joy where we can, and allowing ourselves to savor the magic that’s waiting just around the corner.

Each time I’ve been stuck, I remember that slice of pie I spent years working up the courage to try. 

Because healing isn’t just about big strides: Oftentimes, it’s in the personal victories and meaningful gestures that remind us that we deserve good things… and that they can be found almost anywhere, even in the most unremarkable moments.

What’s your coconut cream pie, Aquarius? Find it before the year ends. Life is too short to miss it.

Pisces

Your Card: Ten of Swords (Upright)

New Moon assignment: Be gentle with yourself.

The Ten of Swords is a card associated with painful endings, which you’re no stranger to, Pisces. This particular ending has a flavor of “I tried, and I tried, and I tried,” and while you’re coming to accept this ending, that doesn’t make it less brutal.

The optimistic New Moon in Sagittarius wants to remind you that painful endings make room for abundant new beginnings.

But I want to be clear about why these new beginnings follow, because it isn’t just a platitude to make you feel better.

When our hearts decide on something — a person, a creative venture, a city, a job, a dream — we begin to build ourselves up and rise to meet it. 

The loss of that thing isn’t a total demolition or self-annihilation, though it can feel that way at first. Instead, imagine grief like a sifter, refining what we don’t wish to stay attached to, allowing what’s truly enduring to be revealed and, with time, more deeply loved.

When some people see a Ten of Swords in a reading, their reflex is “ouch.”

But consider that this pain is giving you the gift of discernment — the lessons you’ll carry forward, the grit you didn’t know you had, and the chance to meet yourself with care instead of judgment.

This moment is a compass, not a collapse. You are older, wiser, softer. Your scars are your most irrefutable and sacred reminder that you are still alive. Love them — and you — accordingly.

A parting gift…

This song by Mon Rovîa, Heavy Foot, is (in my humble opinion) the anthem of this New Moon.

“Love me now / hold me down / and the government is staying on heavy foot / and they try to keep us all down / no, they never gonna keep us all down”

Remember: There’s more of us than them. 

And when we access our joy, our vitality, our light? The darkness has no choice but to yield.