We spend so much time tracking transits, checking our apps, and eyeing the horizon for upcoming retrogrades. We do it because we want to be prepared. We want to "manage" the energy. But I’ve been thinking lately: Is our obsession with knowing the future actually a form of self-sabotage?

A few months ago, I was drowning in a retail job at Walmart. I was exhausted, disconnected, and—most importantly—completely out of sync with my practice. I hadn’t checked my transits in weeks. Then, out of nowhere, the pressure cooker blew. I walked out, left my things, and never looked back.

It was only later that I looked at the sky for that day: Venus was conjunct my natal Sun, and both were exactly opposing Uranus.

In astrology-speak, that is the "I NEED to Break Free" signature. It’s sudden, it’s electrified, and it’s often reckless.

If I had been on top of my astrology that morning, I know exactly what I would have done. I would have seen that Uranus opposition and told myself:

I would have used the stars as a reason to stay small. I would have suppressed the urge for freedom because I would have placed it in a box labeled “this too shall pass energy” rather than a soul-level emergency.

This brings up the big question for all of us who follow the stars: Does knowing what's coming actually change the outcome, or does it just change our ability to surrender to it?

If I had stayed at Walmart to play it safe, I might have saved myself some stress over a car payment. But I also would have missed the exact cosmic window designed to catapult me into my writing career. Sometimes, we need to be blind to the math of the universe in order to stay susceptible to the magic of it.

Is the goal of astrology to help us avoid the storm, or to give us the courage to finally let it wash us away?