21/09/2025
Heeeeey my cosmic babes,
Todaaaay is the eclipse. How are you doing? The Virgo eclipse is here to burn through the bu****it. Think less “gentle moon bath” and more “celestial Marie Kondo on a manic episode.” The universe is wielding a broom like a weapon, pulling your life apart, shaking it upside down, and shrieking, “This doesn’t spark joy. Toss it. And this. And that. Stop clinging to things that are slowly rotting you from the inside out.”
This is not a drill. This is not polite. It’s cosmic housekeeping at its most chaotic, and no one gets to hide under the duvet.
Virgo rules the tiny, often boring details that secretly shape the entire game board. Habits. Health. Routines. Systems. The small, unsexy things that stack up and either build you into the most unstoppable version of yourself, or quietly eat away at your energy until you’re stuck binge-watching shows you hate with people you don’t even like. Under this eclipse, the cracks light up like neon. Where are you bleeding time, energy, or love? Where are you patching holes instead of fixing foundations? Virgo doesn’t do denial. Virgo points, loudly.
And here’s the kicker: this eclipse isn’t asking you to get perfect. Virgo is not some pencil-skirt-wearing, clipboard-tapping hall monitor, even though people love to stereotype it that way. Virgo energy is actually about alignment. It’s about creating a life that functions like a symphony, where every note matters. It doesn’t care if your kitchen counters are spotless. It cares that you stop living on caffeine and self-loathing, calling it “productivity.”
So, ask yourself:
What am I doing on autopilot that tastes stale?
Where am I dragging chaos around like it’s a Gucci tote?
What am I still saying yes to that makes me feel small, drained, or dead inside?
The Virgo eclipse is your reboot. The universe is your IT guy, unplugging the whole damn system, blowing the dust out, and forcing you to upgrade. Outdated files? Gone. Shady apps? Deleted. This is your cosmic software refresh. It stirs up endings, beginnings, and every messy in-between moment you’ve been avoiding.
Every choice counts. Every ritual is a spell. The way you wake up, the way you eat, the way you move through the day - that is the magic writing your future. And under this eclipse, your daily rhythm is either upgrading you to boss-level goddess energy, or keeping you stuck in the swamp.
Now, every element feels this purge in a different way. Let’s talk about how the chaos shakes out.
Water Signs (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces)
For you, this eclipse drags your emotional patterns into the spotlight. Your messy little loops in love. The ways you give until you’re hollow. The moments where you’re basically an unpaid therapist, mother, or martyr. Virgo doesn’t let that slide anymore. It puts your emotional habits under a microscope, highlighting where you’ve been over-giving, over-caring, and under-nourishing yourself.
Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces - you love hard, but sometimes you bleed out in the process. Old wounds may bubble up, like ghosts knocking on your door at 3am. They’re not here to torment you. They’re here so you can finally look them in the face, say “I see you,” and slam the door shut for good.
This eclipse is asking you to stop trying to fix everyone else’s chaos. To stop feeding your worth through sacrifice. To stop making yourself the emotional sponge for other people’s bu****it.
Work with it:
Journal every morning like your pen is an exorcism. Write it all out. Don’t censor.
Eat food that feels like comfort and medicine, not punishment. Think roasted sweet potatoes, hearty soups, warm tea, love in a bowl.
Say no without writing a three-page apology email.
Ask yourself: What emotional pattern am I smashing into pieces and tossing in the recycling bin of the universe?
Shadow side: You may try to numb this purge with fantasy, wine, or toxic nostalgia. Don’t. Let the wounds bleed once so they can actually heal.
Air Signs (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius)
Your brain is a carnival. Constant chatter, endless scrolling, group chats with 3,000 unread messages. This eclipse wants receipts, filters, and a mute button. Virgo is exposing your mental clutter like a harsh fluorescent light. The scattered routines, the draining conversations, the social media feeds that feel like psychic garbage - all of it is screaming for a cleanse.
Air signs thrive on communication, but too much input fries your circuits. This eclipse is your invitation to stop doom-scrolling, stop gossiping, stop filling the silence with noise. Speak only when you mean it. Consume only what uplifts. Curate your brain like it’s your personal art gallery.
Work with it:
Write affirmations like graffiti on your bathroom mirror. Remind yourself you’re not a trash can for other people’s thoughts.
Unfollow ruthlessly. Cut half your feed. Stop pretending you care about your cousin’s neighbour’s dog’s birthday.
Practice radical silence. Meditation, long walks, or just shutting up for once.
Ask yourself: What noise am I finally cutting so I can hear my own genius?
Shadow side: You’ll be tempted to intellectualise your feelings instead of feeling them. You’ll want to talk instead of act. Resist the urge to spin in circles.
Fire Signs (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius)
Your energy leaks like a busted hydrant. You say yes to everything, run everywhere, burn yourself crispy, then wonder why you’re exhausted and cranky. This eclipse slaps your hand, says “sit the hell down,” and exposes every place you waste your fire.
Aries, Leo, Sagittarius - you’re built to blaze, but fire without focus just burns down the house. Virgo wants you to aim your flames with sniper precision. No more fifty side quests. No more chasing shiny distractions. No more running until you collapse.
This eclipse is your cosmic intervention. Slow down. Choose carefully. Channel your passion into what genuinely lights you up, not what strokes your ego or fills your calendar.
Work with it:
Move your body mindfully. Yoga, dance, something that stretches instead of scorches.
Create an evening ritual of reflection. Sit with your fire instead of running from it.
Protect your energy like it’s Cartier. Not everything deserves your spark.
Ask yourself: Where do I actually want to set s**t on fire?
Shadow side: You may rebel against slowing down, overcommit harder, or run into burnout just to “prove” you can. Don’t. Real strength is discipline, not chaos.
Earth Signs (Ta**us, Virgo, Capricorn)
This eclipse is in your territory, so buckle up. Routines, health, and systems get dragged to the front row. Earth signs love their structures, but here’s the truth: some of yours are duct-taped together with denial. Virgo is here to stress-test the whole thing.
Ta**us, Virgo, Capricorn - you’ve been chasing perfection when what you need is sustainability. Virgo reminds you that “perfect” is sterile, lifeless, boring. What actually works long-term is messy, flexible, and human. This eclipse is your chance to strip down your systems and rebuild foundations that actually hold you.
This isn’t about a Pinterest-perfect bullet journal or the “aesthetic” life you show online. It’s about creating structures that make you feel steady, nourished, and free.
Work with it:
Scrub your space. Clean like you’re banishing demons.
Redesign your calendar. Delete commitments that drain you.
Create rituals you genuinely love, not ones that look good for Instagram.
Ask yourself: What foundation makes me unshakable, even when the rest of the world burns?
Shadow side: You may spiral into control-freak mode, obsessing over details or micromanaging every breath. Don’t. Virgo energy is about flow through structure, not strangling yourself with lists.
The collective vibe:
This Virgo eclipse is not soft. It is not gentle. It is a cosmic exorcism, a soul detox, an energetic intervention. If your life feels like it’s falling apart, it’s because it is. But it’s falling apart in the exact places it’s supposed to. The universe is ripping out the rotten beams so you don’t build a castle on sand.
This eclipse is the reminder that endings are holy. That clarity is sacred. That daily rituals are not chores, but magic spells written in the language of action. It’s not about overnight transformation. It’s about micro-shifts that stack up into revolutions.
So, whether you’re crying on the kitchen floor, deleting numbers you should have blocked years ago, or finally dragging your ass to the gym - it’s all sacred. It’s all eclipse medicine.
Eclipse ritual ideas:
Cosmic Declutter: Clean one drawer, one closet, or one digital folder. Burn incense. Blast music. Make it a ritual.
Journaling Purge: Write down every habit, person, or thought that feels like sludge. Rip it up. Burn it. Flush it.
Body Reset: Eat something nourishing. Take a salt bath. Move like you actually live in your body.
Energy Protection: Set boundaries. Say no. Unfollow. Block. Cut cords.
Journal Prompts
What habits are secretly running my life, and how do they make me feel?
Where am I carrying other people’s chaos like it’s my responsibility?
What foundation am I building now that my future self will thank me for?
If my daily rituals are spells, what magic am I casting right now?
The Virgo eclipse is here to delete, destroy, and detox everything that doesn’t belong in your next chapter. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and maybe a little unhinged - but that’s the point. Let it strip you clean. Let it reboot your system. Let it shock you into clarity.
What’s left will actually feel like you. And isn’t that the whole point?
