angstoic.com Astrologer, Ang Stoic
And so it’s 2026… although dates like December 31st mean less and less to us astroniks. Me? I spent the evening in pyjamas, dancing around the fire, connected via Zoom to friends and family across three continents and several timelines, just to prove how arbitrary and out of sync these 3D-bound markers have become in real, present-tense time. Neither here nor there. Everywhere and nowhere. The world we inhabit grows less dependent on three-dimensional commutation by the day. Communication itself is becoming unmoored from sentiment, from the marketing-led consumerist rituals we’ve attributed to tradition, from the silly muscle-memory ordeals we’ve mistaken for meaning. The champagne corks still pop, but something in us has stopped believing the fizz.
Meanwhile, something else accelerates beyond our wildest capacity to track it. Superintelligent modules hover just above us in the data cloud, their algorithmic generators widening apertures of perception we barely knew we had. I feel it strongly as we bid farewell to 2025: we are also bidding farewell to the last vestiges of what we once called humanness. Letting go of attachment to even the most comforting of creature comforts. Priming ourselves for something cold and fantastically unfathomable. The world we enter after the March Equinox, when the Sun completes its final pass through Aquarius and Pisces and thrusts ceremoniously into Aries. A Brave New World, whether we’re ready or not.
But let’s keep perspective. The calendar says January, yet we’ve only just passed the three-quarter mark of the Sun’s actual cycle through the zodiac. Capricorn brings us to the business end of the year: time to close the deal, not open anything new. After Sagittarius’s delightful ambiguities, its projections and philosophical meanderings, the emphasis shifts to accomplishing one of them. Delivering on one thing. Capricorn has a ruthless way of translating “I’ll see what I can do” into oath, a hunch into binding obligation. The goat is not about dreaming about the summit, but all about completing the climb.
Stellium in Capricorn
Looking at the lunation chart, we see the Sun, flanked tightly by Venus and Mars, approaching the 13th degree of Capricorn, a coordinate that is not neutral ground. Pluto crossed this exact degree five times between early 2014 and late 2015, grinding back and forth like a proverbial drill bit, and precisely eleven years ago, on Jan 4, 2015, a Full Moon fell exactly there while Pluto was exacting its 7th and final square to Uranus. Quite the hinge point. The moment we signed the papers, most of us without reading the fine print.
Let’s just think about what was happening then. Twitter and Facebook had already become the prevailing norm rather than novelty, and something in the collective nervous system crossed a threshold that year, tilting from “using the platform” to “being used by it.” An entire species made a Faustian pact to forfeit three-dimensional selfhood in exchange for an online entity, an avatar, a curated broadcast version of their individual soul. Invisibly, as is always the way with Pluto, we entered a shared mind-field that was still, at the time, largely unfamiliar territory. If you’ve watched Vince Gilligan’s Pluribus, you know the metaphor: admission into a fourth-dimensional state, a Chrysalids-like hive-consciousness that promised belonging but would quietly disintegrate the membrane between self and swarm.
What began under the guise of “social media” evolved into an anti-social medium that would eventually wreak irrevocable consequences on our tribal heritage.
Now the current stellium, activated by another Cancer Full Moon, reactivates that degree. More ruination. Or perhaps the completion of what Puto seeded back in January 2015. Mercury conjunct Juno now joins the climbers at base camp, introducing contractual language, explicit terms, the mind’s insistence on knowing where it stands. We are heading somewhere, but we want assurance about the conditions between us and those who vow to stand beside us.
Venus and Mars manifest as desire honed into an agenda, affection fused with strategic ends, the erotic and the ambitious entwined around the solar spine. And Vesta edges toward the anaretic 29th degree, that final notch before the sign changes and something must be released or surrendered. Vesta there looks like a vow that has reached its expiration date. A devotion that kept you climbing but is now too narrow to survive the descent. A purity standard that may have worked as armour but has retrospectively become its own kind of cage.
Consider how the media landscape has inverted itself since that 2014–15 crossing. The “alternative” voices online, once dismissed as fringe, paranoid, or dangerously independent, have migrated toward the mainstream. Meanwhile, legacy outlets that gatekept the centre for decades began haemorrhaging credibility, eventually borrowing the aesthetic and delivery of the upstarts they once mocked. Pluto’s passage out of Capricorn, the sign of corporate and state hierarchy, and into Aquarius, the sign of decentralised networks, accelerates this convergence. Soon enough, it will be difficult to distinguish the establishment from the insurgency; the line between official and rogue narratives has diminished. The old gatekeepers are not so much being replaced as absorbed into a scatterfield where everyone broadcasts and no one arbitrates. Whether that democratises truth or drowns it into the maya of illusion remains the open question of the decade.
What we are witnessing, in miniature and in the macro, is an eleven-year loop coming to its closing audit. The admission price we paid in 2014–15 is being reviewed. The identity we traded for digital belonging is being weighed, tagged, and encoded into a comprehensive, universally accessible signature. The old three-dimensional markers of status, nation, class, tribe, religion, political affiliation, those crumbling monuments to a world that sorted humans by geography and bloodline, are being superseded by something that doesn’t care about your passport or your postcode. It apprises you a whole new identity badge, one replete with the full trail of your “intelligence”: what you think, who you engage with, your whims and predilections, your passions and dispassions, your sins, your indiscretions, your crimes. Every click a confession. Every scroll a deposition on the complexity of your inner being, logged without your consent, interpreted without your knowledge. The new sorting infrastructure cares nothing for where you were born. It already knows what you’ve become. It’s got you sized up in ways and means you couldn’t possibly imagine, and it’s just getting started.
Some will cling to the old 3D architecture. They lack the tools, the hardware, to run the new software. They will double down on nationalism, inherited identity, fundamentalist religion, the comforting folklore of belonging to something solid. They will cling to notions of a “leader” or a “messiah” to deliver their contingent to a promised land, hopefully vanquish all others and leave them the spoils, as history has always done for its victors. These are the people still waiting for someone else to save them. They will be waiting a long time.
Others are already untethering, floating precariously into a fourth-dimensional existence where presence matters more than provenance, where like-minded consciousness clusters regardless of borders, where questions like “where are you from?” and “what’s your area of expertise?” sound quaint, almost nostalgically redundant, like asking someone’s fax number.
Neither path is wrong. But both are being forced to declare themselves. The Capricorn stellium demands you pick a direction and commit to it with your feet, your resources, your actual behaviour. Enough with hypothetical futures. Enough with “I’ll decide when things settle down.” If you’re not somehow settled with the constant state of unsettlement, if you haven’t learned to be present in the crackling now, the coming twelve to fifteen months will look properly unnerving.
The goat doesn’t dream about the summit. It just keeps climbing.
The Cancer Full Moon: The Body that Refuses to Keep Lying
And now, into this charged field, the Moon rises full in Cancer.
If Capricorn depicts the climb, Cancer is why you started climbing in the first place. The origins from which you spawned. The root system that nourished you and helped you keep your footing so you could embark on your expedition. The safety you’re trying to secure. The people you want to protect, provide for, belong to. Cancer is the primordial ancestor who crawled out of the sea and onto the beach, the soft animal of your life, the part that unconsciously remembers you need rest, warmth, nourishment, emotional truth. It is the side of you, like mother, who could care little about social accomplishments and outer-world metrics. The side that only cares whether you’re okay.
As the Cancer Full Moon peaks in opposition to the Sun at 13° Capricorn, we reflect upon a degree we established carries heavy weight. We’ve already traced its recent lineage, a past still activated with the radioactive afterglow of human evolution: the Pluto years, the Faustian bargain, the moment humanity signed away its three-dimensional selfhood for a place in the cloudhive. Now the Moon illuminates the cost of all this in anything but abstractions. The impact is visceral, hitting you in the body, in the gut. Listen to the part of you that’s been screaming “be careful,” “don’t sign away the farm,” “stay connected to something innately human” while your mind was busy justifying the status-obsessed social arrangement.
Full Moons are nothing if not fully confronting. The intensity of both Sun and Moon serves to bring two disparate areas to a point of culmination and exposure. This one functions like a memory flare: whatever you agreed to under that earlier Pluto pressure, whatever identity compromises were made in exchange for belonging, status, legitimacy, or digital refuge, now comes up for review in the one place you cannot gaslight. Your wracked-out nervous system knows what your ambition refuses to admit. Your erratic sleep patterns have been testifying for years. Your appetite, your mood, your startle reflex, your capacity for tenderness, your entire idea of identity, inner and outer, all of it has been recording the real terms of the deal you made.
The opposition tightens because Venus and Mars flank the Sun, fused into the same Capricorn agenda. Duty versus feeling is the surface read. But to whom? What?? Beneath it: attraction, appetite, ambition, libido, and relationship strategy are packed into the “close the deal” programming. Your wants have a plan. Your relationships are negotiating power, time, and labour from you. Some body wants more of you, but which “you” is that? Venus conjunct Mars in Capricorn makes love look like logistics and desire look like a project. Phenomenal for building something real, loyal, enduring. Vicious for self-betrayal, because you can mistake intensity for compatibility, and “we’re doing a lot together” for “yeah, this is healthy.”
Meanwhile, Uranus in Taurus works the minor hard aspects like grit in the gears. Semi-squares and sesqui-squares rarely announce themselves as one dramatic event. They show up as persistent irritation, sudden reversals, technical glitches, financial wobbles, bodily restlessness, and the visceral sense that the ground truth has changed and you’re late to notice. Taurus rules the material layer: security, money, food, the body. The disruption, now years in the making, hits the exact places people pretend are stable. Capricorn wants chains of command and predictable progress. Uranus has badly wanted autonomy, rupture, and reconfiguration of the entire supply chain. The climb feels tenuous. Resources are precariously unbalanced. You are trying to build permanence while the underlying system mutates beneath your feet. The old strategies for success, influence, and stability are starting to produce diminishing returns. The summit you were promised keeps shifting; for many, it’s already out of reach.
What’s Coming to an End
The old social contract, the one that proclaimed survival requires increasing increments of self-abandonment, is closing out. You can’t keep doing this. The belief that you must perform increasingly futile, demeaning, denigrating acts to be safe, keep “putting out” just to be worthy, comply to utterly incomprehensible narratives to belong… that’s getting you nowhere. This lunation pressures that bargain until the seams are at least showing. It exposes how the arrangement has surreptitiously hollowed out people’s souls since the Pluto-in-Capricorn years, because the body has a limit and it has been keeping tabs on precisely when it became exhausted. You cannot keep paying Capricorn with Cancer forever. The soft animal will either wilt or revolt. In fact, it is revolting now, in a thousand small ways you’ve been calling stress, fatigue, disconnection, inexplicable sadness, the inability to feel at home anywhere, even at home. By March, at this rate, we will be in a dire state.
What’s ending is the tolerance for the half-life. The shell of you without the soft centre. The grim, Sisyphean labour of maintaining control so you never have to feel helpless again. The tantalising Faustian terms that made sense under pressure but have long since curdled into self-punishment dressed as discipline. Treat this lunation like the annual health check-up. The body is the final arbiter. The results are in. Let’s hope you’re ready for the verdict.
What Can Come Through
Best-case scenario, Capricorn becomes the container that protects Cancer rather than consumes it. But know this: both Capricorn and its ruler, Saturn, have been through an epic, end-of-empires grade collapse process.
Focus on building routines that preserve sleep and sanity, rather than routines that optimise output until you yourself collapse. Boundaries that prevent your essential decency and self-preservation instincts from being annexed by whoever needs you most. Agreements explicit enough to survive Neptune’s overwhelming fog and Uranus’s relentless, earthquaking chaos. Translate feeling into policy. Translate needs into structure. Let the emotional body set the non-negotiables, then let the executive mind engineer the plan. Make this a priority over the next two weeks.
Aim for disciplined care. That’s the synthesis. Come now, soft indulgence won’t hold. Feeding brutal productivity into a soul-numbing infrastructure has already failed. The returns have shagged you. What remains is the rigorous protection of what still keeps you human in a world accelerating past human scale.
If you’re not hearing the warning sirens, this Full Moon forces the same question you’ve been circling all year, all decade, perhaps all your life: what are you willing to close out, and what kind of self must you keep intact to live in what comes next?
What comes next bears zero resemblance to “normal”. I promise you. The Capricorn New Moon on January 18th falls at the anaretic degree, the final notch before Aquarius takes over entirely. That lunation is the mother fucking threshold. Between now and then, you have a window to clear the debris of eleven years, to sort what’s still load-bearing from what’s just dead weight.
The world after March refuses to wait for anyone still straggling. The Saturn-Neptune conjunction at the Aries Point will rewrite the entire operating system. As the old map expires, taking with it a whole stratum of variables, a new order takes its place. If you enter that passage still dragging contracts you never consciously signed, still performing the bullshit self you no longer believe in, the transition gets rougher than it needs to be.
Have I mentioned how the goat doesn’t dream about the summit, how it just keeps on climbing? Well, even the goat knows when to stop, turn it in. When the sky turns nasty and hostile, the only wise move is to seek shelter and wait for dawn.
This is that night. Use it well.
Stay with it. I leave you with these indispensable horoscope messages. Till next time xx
ARIES | TAURUS | GEMINI | CANCER | LEO | VIRGO | LIBRA | SCORPIO | SAGITTARIUS | CAPRICORN | AQUARIUS | PISCES
In this fortnight’s horoscope messages, I show you where this Cancer Full Moon is calling you to stop abandoning yourself for the interminable climb, and where honouring that soft animal becomes your fiercest act of sovereignty.
The Full Moon at 13° Cancer lands somewhere specific in your chart. That’s where the body has been keeping score of all the sleights and indignations; where the Faustian terms you signed back in the Pluto years have finally come due, and where the soul you bartered for status, security, or a seat at the table is asking to be bought back. Your horoscope message cuts through all abstraction and lands the transit precisely where it lives in your life. What exactly is coming to an end? What has to stop? Where is reclaiming yourself the only deal worth making?
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ARIES | TAURUS | GEMINI | CANCER | LEO | VIRGO | LIBRA | SCORPIO | SAGITTARIUS | CAPRICORN | AQUARIUS | PISCES
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Ang Stoic is renowned not just for his searing accuracy, but for his empathetic, personalised approach and deep astrological expertise, guiding clients through major life transitions—career changes, relationship upheavals, Saturn returns, midlife crises, and other pivotal phases. With his penetrating insights and warm, supportive style, he empowers you to transform challenges into opportunities for growth and self-discovery.
