This week’s Solar Eclipse (Aug. 12, 2026, 10:36 am PDT) takes place in Leo, the sign in which the self struggles to be fully realized. The Leo self sings, dances, paints, delivers monologues; creation and performance are how it discovers who and what it is, and what it wants to become. When the authentic Leo self is given free rein, it eventually finds its audience. But while validation of an audience is intoxicating, it’s also dangerous. If we begin to spend more time performing for an audience than immersed in the joy of creation, too much time begging for attention and too little absorbed in happy, creative reverie, we lose the connection to our internal power source.
I realize that advocating for creative joy seems trivial in the face of the horrifying displays of racism and threats of war that fill the news, and that it’s no substitute for activism. But in celebrating joy and sacred selfhood, we automatically reject the horrors of hatred and warped pride, and affirm the very happiest reasons for living.
Love is not a cure for all that ails us, but it’s the right inspiration for the fight.
When we create, we’re active, engaged, and awake. The first thing I notice during a power cut is how much I rely on entertainment created by others, instead of turning instinctively to making my own creative mischief. How I miss my Netflix and email and social media, even though I complain about how they suck too many hours from my days!
But gradually, I surrender to the darkness. I wander through the house lighting candles. I try not to mind that I neglected to charge my phone earlier in the day. I enjoy the challenge of unpacking the dishwasher in the dark. I chat with my husband and pet the cats. I think about something I’m writing and perhaps gain a new perspective on it.
I’ll admit, it’s a relief when the lights come back on and normalcy returns. But part of me feels a bit melancholy, too, as though a soulful conversation has ended too soon. Like a pilgrim in the path of totality after four minutes of magical, eclipsed solar darkness, or even our nightly sleeping selves, exploring the hidden realms of our dreams, we can be changed by darkness.
Power that comes from outside of us is something we take for granted—relying on it in ways we don’t even notice, like the father we didn’t know was a source of strength until he’d gone away; or fearing it, as the bared teeth and saber-rattling of maddened despots. But when the lights go out at the Leo Solar Eclipse, we get the chance to reconnect with the solar god within ourselves, to reclaim the throne as monarchs of our own sacred realms.
The eclipse is coming. And as we draw closer to the quiet holiness of the eclipse moment, something sweet, serious, and profoundly heartfelt is trying to emerge. Make room for it. Light a candle, and offer a little prayer. Shut out the chaos for awhile, and tune into your own frequency. All is well in your own kingdom. Decide what you will create there.
Writing and artwork by April Elliott Kent, © 2017 -2026
