THE PLACE OF MEDICINE: SOLSTICE, CAP I + ASCLEPIUS

This longest night of the year is always a tethering time. A moment for quiet reflection on all that happens in a full Solar revolution.

For me, it’s been a considerable stretch since I’ve been still. These last few months have witnessed more condensed movement than I’ve experienced in my entire life. I’ve been from bed to bed to bed since the beginning of July. I’ve not spent more than 21 days in a single place, and often less than 7. In many ways this has been exhausting. It has also been incredibly liberating, opening, healing.

I’ve been held in ways I never dreamed of - by friends and lovers and family and strangers too. And by the spirits of time, by the planets, by the rituals I hold close. Admittedly with so many changing tides and spaces, beginnings and endings, it hasn’t been the easiest to stay with every ritual and rhythm I’ve created since my astrology practice started over a decade ago. But today, as the Sun enters Capricorn, and more specifically, the first decan of Capricorn, I’d like to talk to you about one spirit and a series of rituals that have kept me clear and primed me with presence for the urgent creative portal I’ve been inhabiting.

That spirit is Asclepius, the God of Healing.

First, let me explain to you why Asclepius is of importance right now. On the solstice, the Sun passes the threshold between Sagittarius and Capricorn, entering the first degree of the sea-goat’s domain. For the next 10 days, the Sun will be in the 1st decan of Capricorn. This decan is presided over by Asclepius.

A quick TLDR on the decans: I’ve been casually mentioning these subsections of the zodiac for a while now. Essentially, the entire 360° zodiac is split up into 36 equal subsections called the decans, each 10° wide. There are exactly three decans in each zodiac sign. Thus, we will often refer to the decans as Aries I, Cancer II, Sagittarius III, etc. Since the Sun just entered Capricorn, it is currently passing through Capricorn I.

The decans are each ruled by 1 or 2 planets, depending on the rulership system you use. Many astrologers today use both the descending and triplicity orders for decan rulership (it’s okay if this part is going over your head - stay with me I’ll get to the juicy less technical stuff soon). Every decan carries a specific energy based on the planets that rule it. For centuries, many astrologers (including some contemporary figures) have ascribed images to the decans, giving fleshy visuals that provide myriad nuance to our interpretations of various chart placements. In some ways, they are like mini zodiac signs in and of themselves. I love working with the decans in my consulting practice. Most of what I’ve learned about the decans comes from my primary teacher Austin Coppock, in addition my own reflections and conversations with colleagues. Currently, my friend and colleague Kira Ryberg is doing an incredible podcast series on the decans with another astrologer, Chloe Margherita. If your interest is peaked, I recommend checking out Threads of Fatepodcast for a rich and free resource. If you want the technical breakdown, Kira has a fantastic and accessible guidebook on the decans. Okay, moving on to what this newsletter is actually about…

Asclepius is the deity associated with Capricorn Decan I,

Cap I for short. Asclepius is the maker of medicine, god of healing, husband to Hygeia, Goddess of Health, student of the centaur Chiron, alchemist and healer and the Son of Apollo.

It is interesting to me that Asclepius presides over the decan in which the Sun has just passed the darkest moment of the year and begins its slow climb in light because Asclepius is the Son of the Sun.

Cap I therefore, is represented by the child of the light. The progeny of our greatest seasonal marker. The seed of spirit.

“In sacred silence, under starry-eyed dark, You shed light under the roots, seeing clearly the elements beneath.

You hold the bounds of the whole Order of Things, the ends of everything, the Cosmic All.

Yours are Beginning and Ending, Rulership and Accomplishment, the leader of the Mysteries is dear to You.”

-excerpt from the Orphic Hymn to Apollo, trans. by Kristin Mathis
as far as I know, you can only get her full translation of this hymn by joining her and Drew Levanti’s class STAR - run, don’t walk to that one

Astrology is a visual practice. Our understandings originate from what we can see; the movement of the stars, but also the literal light provided by the Sun and the Moon.

That said, our understandings are also formulated from the absence of light.

Just because we can’t see the Sun, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. The longer the night in the Northern Hemisphere, the longer the day in the Southern. Whether or not we can see it, the Sun is busy hurling light under the roots, establishing clarity for the elements beneath. The waxing and waning presence of the Sun is the order maker. The equinoxes and solstices for our very zodiac are the time markers, the tethers of our year. The Sun creates the bounds, ends and beginnings of everything. It does not seem that such a magnanimous and obvious force would be a doorway to the mysteries and yet Apollo was known for a long time as the Oracle Keeper at Delphi.

The light is there even when we can’t see it. The inner knowing, the intuitive luminosity, the inherent animated spirit of the world - all depend on the movements of our dear Sol.

As the Son of Apollo, Asclepius was first and foremost known as the God of Medicine and Healing. More specifically, he was an alchemist. Asclepius was one that had the power to compound disparate elements and create sol-utions. He was a god of healing in the sense of knowing how to make things whole and also how to transform something into something else by the power of opening and addition. Asclepius knows how to cohere various forces, the same way the Sun’s gravity coheres the intricate solar system of planets who revolve around it.

Asclepius literally means “to cut open”, named because his mother died in childbirth and when her body was laid upon the pyre, his father Apollo cut open her womb to save Asclepius, still alive within. This also speaks to the way information and illumination sometimes has a penetrating painful effect. It is hard to heal a wound you cannot fully see. Surgery tends to require some degree of slicing open if we’d like to repair internal damage.

Asclepius also famously discovered the secrets to resurrecting the dead. After a few revivals, this angered both Hades and Zeus, because it was seen as defiance to their divine rulership over the concept of mortality, and thus, Zeus struck Asclepius down with a thunderbolt. Still the god of medicine’s power is undeniable for what is more alchemically binding ending to beginning than resurrection?

According to legend, Asclepius was later placed among the stars as the constellation Ophiucus (the serpent holder/charmer) at the request of his father Apollo. If this sounds familiar, it’s because I wrote to you about Ophiucus in a newsletter at the beginning of December. I am admittedly, a very big Asclepius fan.

In astrology, when a planet is too close to the Sun, it is considered to be combust or under the beams. In other words, it gets a little sunburnt. Sometimes, Sol has malefic tendencies, though it is traditionally considered a planet of health and healing. Elementally, fire and light are purifying forces. Fire burns away toxins. Light permeates, inspiriting matter with the divine. Light across many cultures, specifically the light of the stars, is generally seen as holy and sacred. The dark, which is of course always in relationship to light, has its own mysterious quality of divine sacrament as well.

I find that Capricorn, the sea-goat, is one of the most misunderstood signs of the zodiac. Very often caught in images of capitalism, oppression, and exploitation, Capricorn gets a bad rap for misplaced notions of greediness. Generally, Capricorn placements are not inclined to correct misperception. Rather, the Saturnian nature of Capricorn is to rest contentedly in the dark, in the mysteries of things. Most Capricorn placements I know are wholehearted, full of love for the world and extremely perceptive and critical of the systems which keep us down. And most have very esoteric, divine and erudite creative inclinations.

Yes, the goat part of Capricorn includes mountain summits, the literal prongs of earth’s crowns lunging towards the sky. But Capricorn also references her soul, the cavernous underwater valleys, currents pulsing with vast ecosystems, bioluminescence radiating from gullies beneath lush coral reefs.

The Sun will touch the top of the mountain. But its rays will also drench the undersea, even if we are not swimming below and able to see it. Capricorn can rest on the floor of the deep waters.

The Sun moving through the first decan of Capricorn marks the first glimpse of growing light. And - it also highlights the depth of the dark. The light is not absent, it just hits different. It is illuminating a mysterious somewhere else, known and unknown, understood yet imperceptible.

The first decan of Capricorn is about the things illuminated to us that help us heal. The knowledge that changes us. It is co-ruled by Jupiter and Saturn. It is about the first experiences that alter our very foundations. The birth of principles that structure our lives. It is repair at an elemental level. Like the light, placements and transits to this place can sometimes pierce through us, leaving a burn or a cut we cannot ignore, to which we must commit to tending.

It is the medicinal place where the end meets the beginning.

Where firsts honor finality. Where limits take the lead and grace fills in the gap. Where sol-ution starts.

Amidst this season of incredible change, I’ve been reflecting on the nature of healing. Where it commences, where it ends, where it begins again. The little journeys speckled across the giant web of regeneration and repair. What it takes for us to heal ourselves and heal the world.

I’ve been thinking about New Solar Cycles and where they start. And New Moons which also mark beginnings and endings, especially last week’s New Moon in Sagittarius, which carried a heavier note of loss as it was square to Saturn and overcome by the Lunar South Node.

Part of healing is being able to see the parts and the whole. To make use of a story and also to let it go when it no longer functions. Some of the endings that were ushered in last week were the ends of critical firsts. First loves, first losses, first jobs, first escapes, first moves, first homes, first leaps and risks, first years learning new languages, etc.

The end of a first doesn’t mean it will be the last.

First-time experiences are special. They awaken us. They empower our capacity. Teach us about our perception. Expand our horizons.

Firsts change what we believe is possible about ourselves and our lives. First times, like the dawn of light, are healing.

Trying something new is a delight. Firsts are a form of liberation. Beginnings are medicine.

When first times end - whether it be a love, a type of job, a trip to a place where we discovered a piece of ourselves, a teacher who taught us a thing for the first time, the first year immersed in the study of something you love - the loss can feel devastating.

The end of a beginning is crushing. Saturn, who rules Capricorn and co-rules Capricorn Decan I, is a planet of endings. A crushed first is painful. It feels like we will never get that feeling back. And it’s true, we’ll never get another first.

But Jupiter is the other ruler. Jupiter reminds us that once our eyes, hearts, minds, and bodies are open, we have the ability to have so many more experiences. The first will certainly not be the last.

2025 has been filled with firsts and replete with endings. The outer planets dance on the thresholds of signs and we prepare to enter an age colored by fire and air. Eclipses in Virgo and Pisces welcomed many a first and permitted so much to pass away.

This New Moon in Sagittarius ushered the Sun into the first decan of Capricorn, emphasizing the the close and opening of our Solar year.

Sagittarius, ruled by Jupiter, is a sign of possibility. And Cap I is a place where the possibility of healing alchemizes into tangible change.

Feel the grief for whatever firsts are departing. Find the gratitude for everything they cracked open

And especially remember, the first is not the last. Whatever light the first lit for you, it’s your light - and it’s just the beginning.

A few months ago I wrote to you at length about the practice of astrological magic. This practice has been constant for me through this time of upheaval. It held me through every first that didn’t last and it has helped me integrate the medicine of firsts so their lessons endure.

Asclepius Kolonía travel size bottle by Sphere + Sundry

Every single day when I wake up, I cleanse my physical and energetic body with an Asclepius Kolonía made by Sphere + Sundry.

I recite the Orphic hymn to Asclepius at least once, sometimes up to 10 times a day. The spirit of this deity is my most constant companion. Keeper of the mysteries. Tender of the new light. Purifier of all.

About a month ago, Sphere + Sundry, the most renowned contemporary magical apothecary, opened a program for affiliates. If you know me, you know I am not generally a person who partners with brands to sell things. That said, I’ve been applying Sphere + Sundry magic daily for years and I can honestly say their products have assisted me, many friends and a plethora of clients with all kinds of situations and ailments, values-based learning and the cultivation of qualities which we would like to embody. Sphere + Sundry products are integrated to my life to a point where I will often not shut up about how magically potent, supportive and nourishing their apothecary has been, especially in this time. So when the program opened, I applied because I was already recommending their products regularly in personal and professional settings. I am sharing this as a disclaimer but also to let you know I am a proud affiliate in their program. It might be the only partnership of this nature that I ever do.

It feels apropos to tell you this right now, as the Sun enters the first decan of Capricorn, Asclepius’ decan. All Sphere + Sundry magic has the potential to be healing, as their products are renowned for being remedial grade talismanic materia. But most especially, their Asclepius materia is geared for this exact thing.

I have worked with three of four of Sphere + Sundry’s Asclepius series over the years (every series is limited in quantity so we are now on Asclepius IV). Each series has unique notes but at their core, each is profoundly healing.

Asclepius magic took me a while to work with. The first few times I applied (especially the Son of Apollo subset), I felt energetically burnt out. This series is known to induce intense bouts of sleep if that is actually what you need. Ironically, it can be medicine for burnout, usually in that it compels you to engage rest and legitimate self-care practices that bring you back into your center. When I first started working with Asclepius, I was very far from my core and I felt the effects of that when I applied it. While generally more temperate than traditional solar materia, Asclepius does still carry solar qualities. But as the God of Cap I, it also has an inclination towards structural coherence.

Admittedly, I was only able to establish a healthy working relationship with Asclepius after about six months of reciting the Orphic Hymn to Apollo and making nice with his dear old dad. Before that, I struggled because I had misconceptions about what the Sun does. Based on those misconceptions, I had judgement and fear of the solar sphere: namely visibility, selfishness, dominance, and taking up space.

I didn’t understand on an embodied level that visibility is really about perception, seeing and being seen; that selfishness sits on the same pillar as generosity; that dominance requires knowing how to stand in your own power without giving it away and that there are ways of wielding dominance and participating in submission with consent that can be profoundly healing, even transcendent, for everyone involved if done with care.

Son of Apollo Anointing Oil by Sphere + Sundry

Today, I do not apply any magic without first applying Asclepius. Just as Capricorn Decan I marks the beginning of new light, Asclepius is a primer for other magical and healing work. It cleans the palate, scrapes away literal and metaphorical dead skin, clears the canvas, and nourishes flesh so it is fertile for seeding other magical energies.

Asclepius supports clarity and integration. It helps you recognize what is new, what is familiar, what has to be cut away and what must be alchemized to persist. It is illumination and discernment. The spirit of medicine. The essence of the divine doctor. Asclepius is one of my most powerful allies. More than anything, working with Asclepius helps me make healthy choices. Teaches me when to act and when to pause. When to decide not to decide. When to forge ahead and learn even under grave mistakes, the throes of pain, or the chasm of grief. It is a learning and healing miracle.

As the Sun moves through Asclepius’s decan, draw touch-points for your health and healing. Re-invigorate your rituals and routines. Rest luxuriously where you can. Scrape away situations that are fogging up your vision. Integrate the lessons gleaned from first experiences and the boundaries built from the ashes of grief. Don’t assume a first is the last. And remember that healing is not marked by a perfect destination but by a divine journey in which we practice becoming whole.