Yesterday, while I was researching for my New Moon in Sagittarius post, I kept seeing this term pop up: The Galactic Center. Apparently, this New Moon was sitting right on top of it at 27° Sagittarius.

Now, if you’re anything like me, you hear a phrase like "Galactic Center" and think: That sounds real cool and all, but it also sounds like it could mean absolutely nothing. Is this just some bullshit trendy spiritual terminology? I don't hear about it often, and quite honestly, I didn't give it much credibility. But I had to know. So, I deep-dived it, as I do… and here is what I found out.

It turns out that this isn't just a fancy spiritual term; it is the literal, physical anchor of our entire existence.

The "Galactic Center" literally points us to the heart of our own galaxy, the Milky Way. Which made me realize I’ve never actually stopped to think about what is at the center of the massive system we live in.

We know the Milky Way is a spiral galaxy, but we don't think of it that way because we can’t see it from the outside. From our perspective—stuck right in the middle of the mess—it just looks like a faint, glowing ribbon of stars in the night sky. But make no mistake: we are part of a giant, swirling disk. And right at the very center of that swirl is a Supermassive Black Hole called Sagittarius A* (pronounced "Sagittarius A-star").

This is the ultimate anchor. It has the mass of roughly 4 million suns, and its gravity is so intense that it holds all 200 billion stars in our galaxy together. Without this "dark heart," our solar system wouldn't exist; we’d just be drifting aimlessly through the void all loosey- goosey.

So, why do we say the Galactic Center is "in" Sagittarius? Simply because from our POV here on Earth, that’s the direction it’s in. When we look toward the "spout" of the teapot on a clear night (the constellation Sagittarius looks like a teapot with a spout), we are looking straight at the engine of our galaxy. It’s about 26,000 light-years away, hidden behind a "Great Rift" of cosmic dust. We can’t see it with our eyes, but we know it’s there because we can watch stars orbiting "nothing" at millions of miles per hour.

Astronomically, the Center stays put, but because Earth has a slow, 26,000-year "wobble" (called precession), the Center appears to move through our zodiac at a very specific rhythm:

If the Sun is the "ego" of our solar system, the Galactic Center is the "Soul of the Galaxy." It represents the Zero Point. Everything in our galaxy is spinning at 500,000 miles per hour around this point, yet the center itself is a place of absolute silence. It’s the "Higher Self"—the part of you that remains calm while the chaos of life spins around you. It’s also the Cosmic Womb. As a black hole, it is a place of both destruction and creation. It reminds us that for something new to be birthed, something old has to be consumed.

Once you move past the science, you start to see that this "Black Hole Heart" is actually a blueprint for how we can stay sane in a chaotic world. Here are the three ways I’m looking at this:

Think about the eye of a hurricane. The only reason the storm has a shape at all is because the center is perfectly still. If the center started moving as fast as the winds, the whole thing would just fly apart.

The Lesson: In our lives, the "void" is that space of quiet we find in meditation or downtime. The quiet isn't a lack of life; it’s the anchor that gives our busy lives their structure. Without that "nothing" in the center of our day, our schedules would just be a chaotic blur that eventually shatters us.

A black hole is a point of infinite potential. Everything that goes in is stripped down to its rawest form.

The Lesson: What we have not become yet is actually what pulls us forward. If you were already "everything" you were ever going to be, you’d have no gravity—no reason to move. It’s the "gap" between where you are and the mystery of where you're going that creates the pull. The void isn't an empty room; it's a magnet.

We think our "identity" is made of our jobs, our cars, and our relationships (the "stars"). But the galaxy shows us that the center is actually invisible.

The Lesson: When we identify with the "nothing" at our core—the silent witness inside us—we stop being reactive to the things spinning around us. Homeostasis comes from realizing that you are the steady center, not the spinning arms.

When I really sit with it, the most mind-blowing thing about the Galactic Center is that it’s the glue holding everything together, even though it is—literally—nothing.

We tend to run from the void, fearing that silence or uncertainty means we’re empty. We distract ourselves with noise and stuff so we don't have to face that space. But the Galactic Center shows us that the Stillness is the Anchor. The most impressive part of you isn't defined by trophies or titles; it is a quiet, invisible gravity at your core. It’s the 'nothing' that keeps the 'everything' from flying apart, and it's the only thing that can truly hold the rest of the mess in place.