MERCURIAL MACHINATIONS
Mercury & the NN| May 23
Image credit—@aiinthekitchen on Instagram
Let’s get one thing straight: Mercury in Taurus doesn’t rush...
It chews.
It tastes.
It lets language dissolve on the tongue like a square of 90% dark chocolate spiked with some long-lost herb from an ancient mountaintop garden…
And when Mercury, dressed in a cashmere robe and smelling faintly of cedar and old books, connects to the lunar nodes?—that’s not just a conversation—it’s a karmic calibration.
This isn’t the Mercury that texts you back at 3AM with a conspiracy theory and three memes…
This is the Mercury that steps onto sacred ground and says, “Speak only if it’s necessary—or nourishing.”
And on May 23, Mercury in Taurus makes two perfectly poised moves: a sextile to the North Node in Pisces and a trine to the South Node in Virgo…
Destiny meets discernment.
Vision meets verification.
The infinite shakes hands with the incarnate, and they both agree to take it slow.
What emerges is a reckoning of the inner voice—specifically, how much of that voice is yours, and how much of it is a looped recording of your ancestors, your culture, your high school principal, or the algorithm in your pocket… you may find yourself suddenly aware of the story you’ve been telling yourself about yourself—and realize that the plot’s been getting a little stale.
You might also get real sick of your own schtick.
Good.
That’s Mercury holding up a cosmic mirror and saying, “Let’s do better...”
The trine to the South Node in Virgo brings in the editor, the pattern-sniffer, the ghost of routines past—it wants to sort, correct, file, and fix—it says: You’ve tried precision. You’ve tried control. Now what if you tried presence?
Meanwhile, the North Node in Pisces hums with the echo of What Could Be—if you stopped clutching so tightly to What Was... it wants your thoughts to float, not fracture—it says: Don’t just speak from the head. Speak from the shoreline between worlds.
But Mercury in Taurus isn’t so easily seduced by the abstract... it says: If your insight can’t plant a garden, cook a meal, or pay a bill, I’m not sure it’s worth much…
This is the part of the mind that wants wisdom to have weight, and beauty to have ballast. That’s why this day is less about epiphany and more about embodied realization… the kind that grows slowly in the marrow—the kind that feels like truth because it’s quiet, and firm, and refuses to be rushed.
Still, a trap waits: self-seriousness...
The shadow of this moment is getting too attached to being “right,” too enamored with your own insight.
That’s the ego, freshly polished and ready to lecture the room…
But if you can stay curious, stay grounded, and bring a twinkle of humor into your search for truth, you’ll find yourself not just seeing reality more clearly—but inhabiting it more fully.
So: check your facts.
Test your voice.
Touch the ground.
And when the divine whispers something strange and luminous from the edge of your awareness—don’t dismiss it—write it down in ink…
Bury it in the soil of your new life.
Watch what grows…