America votes this week, and the whole world’s holding its breath with it. Everyone wants to know who takes the House and the Senate, and underneath that sits the question that’s been keeping people up at night: what happens once the polls close, with Trump already saying he’ll only accept the result if he judges the process legitimate, and his Justice Department asking states to set ballots aside before a single one’s been counted?
The sky has plenty to say about it, and what it lays out is a road, running from this week’s vote all the way to the gavel in January. In November, after the first count turns out to be just a draft, the challenges land, the noise from the White House gets louder, and America’s mad king reaches for war and escalation. In December everything grinds to a standstill, with a shutdown cliff, the slow work of the courts, and a fog that settles over Washington and stops dead there, and then in January the new Congress takes its seats and the gavel comes down.
Along the way the sky lights up the people at the centre of the story. There’s the week the GOP’s future starts visibly attaching itself to JD Vance, and the crossroads waiting for Mike Johnson and Chuck Schumer. There’s the moment Hakeem Jeffries and the Democrats have to face whether they’ll go there on impeachment, the weight being handed to Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, John Thune holding his ground, and the day the Supreme Court speaks. And the Republican party faces the kind of reckoning with its own power that comes to an institution only once in a very long life. For anyone hoping it all wraps up neatly in November, the sky’s answer is that this fight gets rewritten all the way to Easter.
It’s going to be a loud few months, especially for those at the epicentre of it in the United States, so the road ends with what all of this asks of the rest of us, and how we carry ourselves through it together.
But it all begins with a date every British child knows by heart. Two days after America votes, it’s the 5th of November, the night bonfires are lit across Britain to remember the man caught beneath Parliament with thirty-six barrels of gunpowder. Four centuries on, the sky over the count shares the same signature as the sky over that cellar - only the plot runs the other way now, with the king stacking the barrels against the ballot box.
This time, it’s the crowd holding the matches.
Never miss a word.
This piece was first published in part in
The Week Ahead: Gunpowder, Treason and the Ballot
The Cellar Under the Chamber
In the small hours of the 5th of November 1605, a search party with lanterns went down into the cellars beneath the House of Lords in London and found a tall man in a cloak and spurs named Guy Fawkes standing guard over a pile of firewood, underneath which were thirty-six barrels of gunpowder, enough to take the chamber above, and everyone in it, into the sky.
Parliament was due to open that morning, with the lords, the bishops, the judges and the heirs - the whole structure of the English state, and even the King - all gathered under one roof; the plan was to light the fuse while they were all in it, and reset the government by obliterating the existing one. The plot was foiled when the King got word of it in the form of an anonymous letter alluding to the coup, and he had the cellars searched; Fawkes was eventually executed in the yard beside the building he’d meant to destroy, and Parliament passed a law making the 5th of November an annual day of thanksgiving, with bells and bonfires, atop which Fawkes was burned in effigy. A stuffed figure with a papier-mâché mask of a moustached man has burned for centuries since, as a cautionary tale of what happens to those who try to destroy the system.
In 1605, if you were a subject who wanted a change in government, gunpowder was pretty much the only way to get it. The sky back then belonged to kings; Jupiter and Saturn had just met in Sagittarius, their first meeting in a fire sign in nearly 600 years, igniting a new era forged in the element of conquerors, crusades and crowns that would run for the next two centuries, through the age of absolute monarchs, divine right and empire.
At the same time, Pluto, the planet of power, was in Aries, the sign ruled by Mars, the planet of force, so these were the days when kings ruled by divine right and answered to God alone. Most people had no vote - there was no ballot box to change things with, there was only the cellar. Force was the only language power spoke, and the only way to challenge that rule was with equal force. With the sky favouring top-down rule, the plot against the throne failed and the bonfires were lit to remind the crowd what happens to those who come for the crown.
In our time, the sky has shifted, and so have things on the ground below. Saturn and Jupiter met again back in 2020, at the very first degree of Aquarius, opening a new era that runs to the end of this century in the element of air - ideas, conversation, networks, and agreement. Today, when the people want change, they can bring a government down by consensus, no cellar required - the people vote, the government changes, and nobody has to light a fuse. Power now ultimately comes from the people, and perhaps that’s why the symbol of Guy Fawkes has come to mean something entirely different over the course of the last few decades.
In the 1980s, David Lloyd and Alan Moore published a comic book called V for Vendetta about a vigilante’s efforts to destroy an authoritarian government in a dystopian future United Kingdom, and that vigilante wore a mask reminiscent of the traditional Guy Fawkes one, complete with pale face, thin smile, upturned moustache and pointed beard. When the comic was made into a film in 2005, it became iconic, and the mask began turning up in protests and demonstrations - in 2008 Anonymous wore it to its first big street protests against the Church of Scientology, and in 2011 Occupy carried it to Wall Street and it’s since been worn in front of parliaments and banks all over the world. The man the crown taught the crowd to burn for centuries has, over time, become the face of the crowd.
The crowd is lit up in the sky right now too, now that Pluto has moved into Aquarius, the sign of the many, where power belongs to whatever the people agree to hold up. The last time Pluto walked through Aquarius, between 1777 and 1798, divine right died - America declared it had no king and France took the head off one.
In 2026 the sky belongs to the people, and it’s showing which way power is flowing. In 1605 it flowed up towards the throne, and anyone trying to pull it down by force was swimming against the current. In 2026 it flows down towards the crowd, and anyone trying to hold it up there by force is swimming against the tide.
And on this 5th of November, two days after America votes in what many are calling the most important election in recent history, the crowd holds the matches at the ballot box.
Remember, Remember
The sky over America’s count this week shares the same signature as the sky over Guy Fawkes’ cellar in 1605. The Sun was in Scorpio that November, and so was Mercury, the planet of letters and messages. Scorpio is the sign of what’s hidden and who really holds the power, and it was a Scorpio plot in every sense: planned in the dark, placed beneath the floor, and undone by a message that moved in the dark too.
This week the Sun is in Scorpio again, and Mercury is in Scorpio walking backwards, about to pass into the heart of the Sun the day after America votes - the midpoint of every retrograde, when the old astrologers said the messenger goes into the fire and comes out carrying a different message.
Mercury’s done this to an American election before. In 2020 it began its retrograde at almost exactly the degree of Scorpio where the Sun swallows it this week, and it turned forward again on election day itself, with the count that followed contested for two months. And in 2006, the last midterm held with Mercury backwards in Scorpio, both houses of Congress changed hands overnight.
So the first thing the sky says about this week is much like the anonymous letter that alerted the King to Guy Fawkes’ plot in 1605 - whatever’s been laid beneath the count comes into the light after it. Under a backward Mercury in Scorpio the plots don’t succeed, and they don’t stay hidden either. They leak. And some of them right now aren’t even bothering to hide.
Before a single vote’s been counted, the US Justice Department has asked the state of Washington to set aside ballots from 400 people it says registered without being citizens, and it tried the same in California with a list of 20,000 before a federal appeals court turned the request away. Trump has said that whether he accepts the result depends on whether he judges the process legitimate, and he’s also directed the Justice Department to file in court asking Alaska not to certify its Senate result if the Republican, Dan Sullivan, narrowly loses, on the grounds that voters might confuse him with another candidate on the ballot called Daniel J. Sullivan.
This is a presidency that has already sent troops into American cities over the objections of their governors and mayors - the old tactics of force being wheeled out by America’s mad king. The barrels this year are being stacked against the ballot box, in plain sight, before the opening - force is trying to get its answer in before the people have given theirs, under a sky that no longer favours force.
In a nation’s chart the Moon is its people, and this week the point of destiny - the place in the sky that shows where a collective is being pulled next - sits exactly on America’s Moon, which only happens once every two decades. In the very week the people vote, the sky is putting the people themselves at the centre of the story, and keeping them there from the vote to the gavel, right through the end of this year. The chamber is theirs, and every plot beneath the count is a plot beneath them.
In 1605 the king won over the crowd under a sky that belonged to the throne, so the plot against it was found out, the plotters were hanged, and the crowd was handed matches and taught to cheer. This 5th of November the sky has flipped, and so have the chairs. It’s the man on the throne who’s stacking the barrels now, and the system he’s trying to blow up is the one the people use to choose who sits there.
Four centuries ago, the cautionary tale was the man who came for the king. Under Pluto in Aquarius, with the point of destiny sitting on the people’s Moon, the cautionary tale is the king who came for the count. These days, the Fawkes mask belongs to the crowd, and the guy on top of the fire, the one that will be held up for generations as a warning of what happens to those who try to blow up the system, is starting to look a lot like the man in the palace.
November: The Fight & the Fury
As America heads to the polls this week, they’re doing the kind of Aquarian work this sky supports - casting a vote, consensus and agreement, millions of people deciding at the same time who they wish to hold up. It’s exactly the kind of thing that threatens a king who rules by force, so under a sky that supports the people, we can expect those trying to dominate from above to get louder.
The vote lands on Tuesday under a Virgo Moon, the sign of the ledger, and the count gets read on Wednesday in the heart of the Sun, so we should expect the first count to be a draft, and the real story to arrive later - ultimately we’re not going to have a clear sense of things until Mercury and Venus turn forward mid-month. That’s when the counts firm up and the challenges land.
The sky doesn’t tell us clearly who wins, or which party takes the House or the Senate, but it does send us signals about which way the energy is flowing. On polling day the Sun sits on the Democratic Party’s Jupiter, its expansion, and the next day on its Mars, its fight. Jupiter squares the Republican Party’s Moon, its base, which inflames and unsettles it.
Current Speaker Mike Johnson’s chart takes a jolt mid-month, right around the time House Republicans will be choosing their leaders for the new Congress, when Mercury, the planet of messages, turns forward and stands exactly square his point of destiny, the place in his chart that shows where his life is heading. That’s a crossroads: a message arrives that turns the direction of his career. Around the same time Venus, the planet of what we value and who we back, turns forward opposite his Mars, his drive to fight for what he wants. That’s his will meeting other people’s verdict on what he’s worth to them - the count sends him somewhere new, and his own colleagues decide how much fight they’ll give him for it.
Around the same time, over in the Senate, the New Moon in Scorpio on the 9th lands on the very top of Chuck Schumer’s chart, his standing in the world, directly opposite his Moon and square his Pluto. A New Moon on the top of a chart is a new chapter in a career, and with Pluto squared it’s a chapter about who holds power.
And while the individuals vie for their place in the caucus, the king will be raging in every direction, as Mars, the planet of the fight, meets Jupiter, the planet that makes everything bigger, in Leo, the sign of the king, right on Mars in Trump’s own chart. For Trump, November is the fight getting louder while the walls close in - we can expect bluster, threats, legal challenges, and a flurry of disinformation and distraction gushing from the White House, as the man who can never bear to lose faces what the polls suggest may be the biggest loss of his life.
And the distraction he reaches for - as he’s done before - will likely be war.
The Wall Street Journal reports the US has warned Gulf states to be ready for “a short, intense military offensive against Iran after the US midterm elections.” A Patriot missile battery is moving to Israel and a carrier group is due next month. Trump told a Florida rally last week, “We may do another little Epic Fury,” and Senator Chris Murphy, who’s been briefed on the plan, says he can’t share the details, but that “the plan is insane. It will not achieve objectives and will set off a new cycle of escalation.” Hegseth has just removed the Pentagon’s top war planner, Lieutenant General Brett Sylvia, accusing him of leaking classified information about the Iran and Ukraine wars and sending his case to the Justice Department - he’s the second person to lose that job under Hegseth, and nearly two dozen senior officers have now also gone. Meanwhile, out in the Gulf, mines are hitting tankers in the Strait of Hormuz again.
Between the 12th and the 16th, the top of Trump’s and Iran’s charts take multiple hits in rapid succession, striking the place where a leader or a nation acts on the world stage, within a degree of each other in Taurus, so when the sky comes for one, it comes for both. Jupiter, the planet that makes everything bigger, squares both charts first, then Mars, the planet of the fight, and then on the 16th, Mars and Jupiter meet on Trump’s own Mars, standing square to the top of both charts together: the fight, made bigger, aimed straight at the place where both men and both nations act on the world. If there’s a window for a big, aggressive move on the world stage, the sky says mid November is where it will land, the perfect distraction just as the count finally settles.
The sky’s just as clear about how that kind of move will likely go. Jupiter squaring the top of Trump’s chart is overreach, doing more than the moment can bear, and Saturn squares Trump’s Mercury the whole time, so plans meet walls and the story runs out of his hands - it’s force swimming against a sky of consensus. And diplomacy comes to a head in the very same days: Venus, the planet of treaties, turns forward mid-month just as Iran weighs a Qatari peace proposal and a letter from Vance sits in Tehran. The sky leaves the outcome open, and shows the bombs and the treaties peaking together.
And if that’s not enough noise for one month, the Full Moon on the 24th will be one to watch. A Full Moon is the moment something reaches its peak and becomes impossible to ignore, and this one falls in Gemini right beside Uranus, the planet of sudden change, with the Sun opposing Uranus the next day. It’s the rupture Moon of the month, and what breaks into the open is the question of who comes after Trump.
This Moon lands right on the point of destiny in JD Vance’s chart, the place that shows where his life is heading, with Uranus hovering over the same point. That’s a sharp, sudden turn in his path, and a Full Moon makes it public. And on the very same day it lands on the point of destiny in the Republican Party’s chart. The heir’s direction and the party’s direction light up together. If there’s a moment on this road when the party’s future starts visibly attaching itself to Vance, this is it.
At the same time the pressure lands on Trump personally. Mars, the planet of the fight, crosses his rising sign that week, the point in a chart that stands for the person himself, how he carries himself and meets the world, and the Full Moon squares the same point. Expect heat, confrontation and strain around the man himself, more than around his policies.
The Supreme Court is standing where it lands too. The Full Moon squares the Mercury in the Court’s chart, and Mercury is the Court’s words, so look for a ruling or statement from the justices that lands right at the turning point.
And the other side of the aisle gets its own jolt. The same Full Moon squares Hakeem Jeffries’ point of destiny, Uranus right beside it, just as House Democrats are choosing their leader and deciding what to do with the power they’ve won. This is where the impeachment question is likely to break into the open - the sky says this is the week Democrats have to face whether they’ll go there. In Chuck Schumer’s chart the Full Moon falls on his Sun, with Uranus exactly opposite his Venus, the planet of who backs us, so the questions over his leadership peak too, and support can shift fast.
So the last week of November is when the succession question breaks into the open: the heir’s path and the party’s path turning together, pressure landing on the king himself, the Court speaking, and lawmakers deciding what to do with the power in their hands.
December: The Standstill
The noise and bluster of November all comes to a standstill in December as force meets the walls.
At the start of December, Pluto squares the Pluto in the Republican Party’s chart, which happens to most institutions only once in a very long life, and it’s the deep reckoning with its own power. This comes just days before the New Moon in Sagittarius lands on Trump’s Moon, his base, opposite his point of destiny: a new chapter for the crowd that holds him up. This is the sky asking whether the party is done with Trump and whether it can survive itself, and that question sits underneath every vote and statement made throughout December.
As the New Moon rises, the point of destiny returns to where it sits in Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s chart, a return that happens only once every twenty years or so, while Saturn squares her own Saturn. That’s the signature of someone being called up and tested hard - at a time when a new bloc on the left of the Democratic Party will be holding conversations about who should be banging the gavel as the Speaker of the House come January, and when 2028 presidential hopefuls will be throwing their hats in the ring. AOC rejoined the Democratic Socialists this year, and the sky says she’s being asked to carry weight she hasn’t carried before, perhaps as the voice of a movement as much as a member of a party.
Then a remarkable cosmic sequence unfolds over the course of four days:
On the 10th, Saturn turns direct, standing on the square to Trump’s Mercury - the planet of walls and limits stops, holding the wall against his words.
Then on the 11th, the government’s due to run out of money, unless of course Congress has managed to avoid a government shutdown, but to do that Speaker Mike Johnson will have to get a funding bill through a House he’s spent the autumn keeping away from votes that might impeach Hegseth or release the rest of the Epstein files, so whether this happens remains to be seen.
When the long shutdown of 2025 began, Neptune, the planet of fog, sat opposite the very top of America’s chart, the seat of government, and on the night this money runs out, Neptune is back on exactly the same spot, and the next day it stops dead there. The fog that hung over the longest shutdown in American history comes back and stands still over this deadline.
Shutdowns carry a cosmic code - they start when Mercury, the planet of words and deals, gets blocked, and they end when Mercury finds harmony again, usually after a New or Full Moon and a Mars climax push leaders to the brink. We saw this play out over more than a month in 2025 - this time the whole code is packed into three days. The New Moon comes on the 9th, the same day Mercury squares Mars, the climax. At midnight on the 11th Mercury sits exactly opposite Uranus in America’s chart, a sudden jolt to the talks, but on the day itself Mercury also makes an easy trine to Saturn, the planet of limits, and that’s the harmony that was missing in October 2025. So the sky points to a cliff edge, maybe a brief lapse as the deadline runs into a Saturday, then a grudging patch that kicks the fight into the new year, rather than another six-week lockout.
And then on the 13th, Jupiter stops and turns backwards, exactly opposite the Moon in America’s chart - the people - and right on top of Trump’s Mars and JD Vance’s rising sign all at once. The heir’s face and the king’s fight are tied at the same point, and Jupiter stands still on both, expanding Vance’s prominence and Trump’s fury, while both face the American people across the sky, and they’re angry.
As Jupiter stops on Trump’s Mars, it also stops on Lilith in the chart of Hakeem Jeffries, the man in line for the gavel in January if Democrats win the House. Lilith is the part of us that refuses to bow, and she’s also the voice of everyone who’s been left out, so Jupiter swelling her cuts both ways: it can lift Jeffries as the one standing up to the king, and it can just as easily swell the restless members of his own party who’ve spent the year refusing to commit to him. Saturn has been flowing to his Sun and Mars this year and does again in February, which is the mark of someone handed authority because he’s steady and has done the work, more than because the crowd is crying out for him. But Uranus, the planet of sudden change, sits square his point of destiny right through December and into the spring, and as the new Congress sits, the point of destiny squares his Saturn. That’s a man who may well get the gavel and then feel the ground move the moment he picks it up. The sky hands him the chair, and leaves wide open the question of whether he’s the one this moment has been waiting for.
All in all, December is the modern equivalent of the cellar loaded with explosives being searched. The courts, the shutdown, the challenges and the stalled handover all live here, in the fortnight before Christmas, with the fog standing still over Washington and the people standing opposite the king-maker. This will be the loudest fortnight of the whole road, but it will be noise that takes us nowhere, because that’s what stations do. Nothing moves, and everything’s exposed - we see it, and we can’t stop seeing it, and we just have to keep seeing it because everything’s stuck.
By Christmas Eve, a Full Moon in Cancer, the sign of home and family, lands on Jupiter in America’s chart, offering a breath of grace in the middle of the standstill: the people at their tables, the country finding out it’s still a country.
It’s the night the lanterns come up from the cellar.
January: The Gavel
January is consensus taking the chair, and force turning inward.
The new Congress sits on 3 January under Venus square Jupiter, which is value against grandeur, the ballot against the banner. The moment the new Congress convenes, at noon in Washington, the Sun sits right at the top of the sky, exactly opposite the Sun in America’s chart, and in a nation’s chart the Sun is the head of state. This Congress is born standing directly across from the President, and that’s the shape of a House that’s changed hands: one with the power to call witnesses, demand documents and issue subpoenas. Lilith, the one who keeps count of everyone left out, sits at the top of that chart too, so the people who’ve been shut out arrive at the top of the room. And on the same day Mercury squares Saturn in America’s chart, so the rules get tested from the first bang of the gavel.
Then on the 6th, the sixth anniversary of the Capitol riot, Chiron, the planet of the old wound, turns direct; the wound that’s been going backwards since the summer starts moving forward again on the day it was made.
On the 7th, the Capricorn New Moon, in the sign of government, lands right on John Thune’s Sun and his Saturn, the signature of a man who keeps the job in the Senate and carries more weight with it, whether his party still holds the majority or not. The same New Moon lands on the Sun in the Democratic Party’s chart, a new chapter for the party in the week it takes its seats. Things are less clear for Chuck Schumer - by the end of January the point of destiny, the direction a whole collective is being pulled, squares the very top of his chart, his career and standing, and his Moon, his bond with the people who’ve backed him. That’s a crossroads: the road he’s been on stops leading where things are heading, so whether or not he keeps the title, the sky says the party’s direction and Schumer’s are starting to part ways, and his base can feel it.
Then Mars turns retrograde, exactly square Saturn in the Republican Party’s chart. The fight turns inward and backward on the party’s own structure, with Lilith, the one who keeps count of everyone left out, moving onto the top of that chart through the middle of January, while Saturn comes back to the exact square to Trump’s Mercury for the second time, the wall on his words closing again as the new Congress finds its feet. This is the strongest sign that the party’s reckoning with Trump arrives after the gavel, when he’s a lame duck, and the race for 2028 is already quietly under way.
And Mars stays backwards until the first of April, when it turns forward again back in Leo, the sign of the king, so the honest answer to when the chaos of this whole election cycle shakes out is that it doesn’t finish neatly in November, or even in January. It turns inward, it goes back over its own ground for the whole of the winter, and it comes back to the king’s sign in the spring. The fight we see in November is the first draft of a fight that gets rewritten all the way to Easter.
The coda comes on the 20th, when the Sun enters Aquarius, the sign of the people, two years to the day since Trump’s inauguration, and meets Pluto on the 25th. The crown meets the crowd, and the power that’s been sliding towards the many all year stands in the full light of the Sun.
And there’s one more story stirring underneath the gavel, one we’ll come back to in the weeks ahead. Uranus, the planet of sudden breaks, is moving through Gemini, the sign of the twins and of things splitting in two. The last two times it came through here, in 1860 and 1948, the Democratic Party split apart, and as it approached in the 1850s, the Whigs collapsed and the Republicans were born. But this time Pluto, the planet of power, is in Aquarius, the sign of the many, at the same time, and the last time those two stood in those signs together was between 1777 and 1782, when America was fighting its way out from under a king and inventing itself from scratch, before a single political party existed. It’s happened just once in the last thousand years. Jeffries may well hold the gavel in January, but there’s a new bloc forming on the left of his party, MAGA and the old guard are pulling apart on the right, and the sky suggests the two-party map we’ve known all our lives is starting to come apart at the seams. What it becomes is something none of us has ever seen. More on that soon…
The Fire That Guards the Way
So that’s the road from now to January - from the vote to the gavel - and there’s no avoiding that it’s going to be loud. How we yearn for some respite from the relentless madness - for the days when elections were polite matters, where people voted, and things changed, or they didn’t, and we all just got on with it, without melting down and going to war.
But those days are long gone. A man came for the system; he stood in the palace with the keys in his hand and stacked the barrels against the count in plain sight, and whatever the count says this week, we can’t unsee that. Once we know what was stored in the cellar, we can never walk across that floor the same way again.
That doesn’t mean we never find peace again. Quite the opposite. This is the path to peace that we’re walking right now, believe it or not, but the path to peace runs straight through the fire. That peace must be earned, and for it to last, some things have to burn - things can’t be allowed to just settle back into the way they were, because the way they were gave rise to the king who came for the crowd. We need a better way - not the way things were, but something better, and that’s where this road leads us.
We are walking through the fire that guards the gateway into a new age.
Four hundred years ago Jupiter and Saturn crowned an age of fire, an age of kings, and the plot against the throne was found out and burned. In 2020 they met again and opened an age of air, an age of consensus, and Pluto has walked into the sign of the many and won’t leave until 2044. An age doesn’t change hands quietly - the old one goes down in flames, shouting loudest on its way out the door.
After the 5th of November 1605, the king turned the man who came for him into a cautionary tale, and for four hundred years the crowd has lit a fire every autumn and burned his effigy, so that nobody would ever forget what happens to those who come for the crown.
This age is writing its own cautionary tale, and we’re currently living inside it. It’s the story of the tyrant who came for the people: the man who stacked the barrels against the ballot box, who reached for war as the count slipped away, and who found that the sky had changed beneath his feet. Guy Fawkes has burned for four centuries, and the memory of this man will burn just as long.
That’s why everything feels so loud right now. This is more than an election. Friends, this moment we’re living through is monumental. Our grandchildren’s grandchildren will speak of it the way British children still tell the story of the man in the cellar, as a warning of what happens when a king comes for the people’s power, told while the age of consensus grows strong around them.
How we tell that story matters. The mind will want to light a bonfire under his face and leave it there, but the heart is the better teller of this story - it can keep the same fire as a hearth, the place where the story gets told, so the memory stays warm enough to teach and the fear never hardens into the next king’s fury. Remember, remember was always about memory, and that’s the fire worth keeping.
And when that story is told, we will be its heroes. The ordinary people who kept voting and kept counting, who stood in the long lines and sat on the long juries, who kept their neighbours fed through the shutdown and their nerve through the noise, and who held the matches without burning down the house.
We are Dumbledore’s Army defending the castle in the Battle of Hogwarts.
We are the hobbits who come home to find a petty tyrant ruling the Shire by force, who rise together, door by door, to drive him out, and who let him walk away rather than stain their own hands.
We are the rebels of Rogue One, carrying the plans through the dark knowing we may never see the victory, and doing it anyway, because rebellions are built on hope.
We are the people on the barricade in Les Misérables, singing for a tomorrow we may not live to see.
And when the curtain is pulled back, we’re Dorothy and her friends, discovering that the great and terrible wizard was only ever a frightened man pulling levers.
None of those unlikely heroes were chosen, crowned or sure of winning; they were ordinary people banding together, who refused to stop and just kept on going. That’s what heroes look like in an age of consensus.
Yes, we are the heroes of this story, but to earn our place and the honour of that title, we’ll have to get through what’s coming, and these next few months will be hard, especially for those right at the epicentre of the story in the United States. There’ll be weeks when the noise is so loud it feels like the whole house is coming down. Shutdowns hurt real families, and war hurts even more. The courts will be slow and the fog will be thick, and some days it’ll feel like nothing is moving at all.
The pain will be great, but in the end - in the final telling of the story - it will be worth it. For our children, and our children’s children, who get to grow up in an age where power belongs to the many, and where a king coming for the crowd is something they only know from a story told by the fire.
So when the barrels come up out of the cellar in the coming weeks, and they will, we don’t need to rush to a solution, or fall into fear, or go into a panic, or worry that the we’re doomed. It’s the old world that’s doomed - something better is trying to be born, and our work is to let it. So when the fear rises, we stop, and we seek the stillness, and we breathe deeply as we drop out of the noise and into the deepest part of us, and let the fear be there without turning it into a face. Then we remember who we are, and what we’re carrying across this threshold.
We can do hard things, friends.
We’ve done them before, and we’ll do them again now, together.
Remember, remember.
The age of kings is burning down.
The crowd is holding the matches.
Let’s use them to light the way through the gateway.
And so rises the Age of the Heart.
If this writing resonated with you, please share it with your friends.
I never realized how important patterns were. WIZ, until I started reading your work. Thanks for being here with us though the chaos.