Hi Friend,

In “Hustle and Float,” I explored a fundamental tension in our modern work lives: the systems of continuous, non-stop productivity that we’ve built are often at odds with the natural rhythms of our creative process. We’ve constructed a world that demands constant output, yet our most innovative ideas and profound insights tend to emerge during periods of rest and reflection.

This disconnect is exacerbated by our culture of instant gratification. We’ve become accustomed to immediate responses, quick fixes, and real-time results. In the process, many of us have forgotten how to tap into the deeper wisdoms of our psyches—those insights that require time to percolate, bubbling up to the surface when we least expect them.

I’ve just returned from a week in Turkey, and I’m struck once again by the power of stepping away. Even though I’ve done the research and written extensively about the importance of rest and disconnection, it never ceases to amaze me how well it works. The past few months have been incredibly challenging on both personal and professional levels, and this trip served as a necessary recalibration.

One practice that I’ve found particularly powerful is what I call the “Vacation Ideas” notebook. It’s a simple concept: a thin, portable journal where I jot down open-ended questions before my trip. Questions like: What do I need more of in my life? What changes do I want to make? How am I really feeling about everything? What does my higher self want me to know?

Then, I do something that feels almost subversive in our hyper-connected world: I wait. I go about my vacation, allowing these questions to simmer in my subconscious. Inevitably, answers begin to surface—sometimes in fragments over several days, other times in moments of sudden clarity.

This time, the messages that emerged were clear:

1. It’s time to get serious about putting more writing out into the world.

2. There are some outstanding conflicts that need resolution.

3. Our daily life systems could use some improvements to make things a bit easier.

Along with these directives came a flood of new ideas for stories, books, and even business ventures.

As we dive into this newsletter, we’ll explore some big ideas—from astrological metaphors for our changing world to the power of poetry in processing our complex emotions. But underlying all of these topics is a central question: How can we honor the natural rhythms of our creativity and inner wisdom in a world that often demands constant, visible productivity?

I invite you to consider: When was the last time you allowed yourself to truly disconnect and listen to your inner voice? What insights might be waiting for you if you created space for them to emerge?

Let's dive in.

The Astrology of Late Capitalism: A Thought Experiment

[A note: What follows is not an endorsement of astrology as fact, but an exploration of how mythological frameworks can help us process the overwhelming complexity of our current moment. Think of it as a narrative device, not a horoscope.]

As a researcher, I’m committed to empiricism and rational analysis. But lately, I’ve found myself drawn to older, more mythic ways of understanding the world. This impulse, I think, speaks to our collective need for sense-making tools in an era of cascading crises and rapid change.

This might explain why I’ve been fixated on a recent article from The Cut about astrology. Not because I believe planets determine our behavior, but because it offers a compelling metaphorical framework for the volatility we’re all experiencing. (Consider this the mystical companion piece to my previous analysis of the Fourth Turning theory.)

The article focuses on Pluto’s astrological transition from Capricorn to Aquarius. In astrological terms, Pluto represents transformation, hidden power structures, and subterranean forces. It’s been in Capricorn—associated with industry, corporate power, and workaholism—since 2008. Now, it’s moving into Aquarius, which symbolizes community, technological innovation, and societal change.

The symbolism here is almost too on-the-nose: we’re witnessing the death throes of a hyper-individualistic, work-obsessed culture and the potential birth of something more communally oriented. But the transition is far from smooth.

Two details from this astrological narrative are particularly striking:

1. The last time Pluto was in Aquarius was 248 years ago—coinciding with the American and French Revolutions.
2. Pluto will briefly retrograde back into Capricorn from September 1 to November 19, 2024—aligning precisely with the U.S. presidential election.

Now, do I think celestial bodies are orchestrating global events? Of course not. But as a metaphor for the massive upheavals we’re experiencing—the decline of empires, the failures of late-stage capitalism, the existential threat of climate change—it’s remarkably apt.

Moreover, this framework captures something essential about our current moment: the sense that we’re collectively awakening from the fever dream of neoliberal individualism. We’re recognizing, en masse, that a society oriented solely around work, consumption, and self-optimization is making us miserable, depleted, and sick.

But what comes next is far from certain. The article’s framing of Aquarius as associated with “collective care, humanitarianism, and large-scale societal matters” is appealing. Yet it also notes Aquarius’s connection to “rebellion and revolution, along with scientific breakthroughs, medical advancements, and technological achievements.” In our current context, this could manifest as either a move towards genuine community and care, or as a further entrenchment of techno-utopianism and algorithmic control.

The rapid advancement of AI adds another layer of complexity to this transition. We’re on the cusp of a transformation that could rival the industrial revolution in its impact on labor, creativity, and social organization. Whether this leads to a more equitable distribution of resources and leisure time or to further concentration of power in the hands of tech oligarchs remains to be seen.

Ultimately, whether we frame it through astrology, generational theory, or straightforward socioeconomic analysis, we’re clearly at an inflection point. The old systems are breaking down, but the shape of what comes next is still very much in flux.

As we navigate this period of intense change, perhaps there’s value in engaging with multiple frameworks—including the mythic and the metaphorical—to help us process and respond to the complexity around us. Not as a replacement for rigorous analysis, but as a complement to it.

After all, if we’re going to be living through “interesting times,” we might as well have an interesting narrative to accompany them.

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Echoes of Migrations: The Power of Poetry in a Fractured World

As we grapple with these seismic societal shifts, it’s worth considering how we, as individuals, process and respond to such tumultuous times. Which brings me to a more personal revelation: the upcoming release of my debut poetry collection, “Echoes of Migrations.”

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Poetry has been a constant companion in my life since childhood, but its significance has evolved as I’ve grown. What began as a youthful exploration of language has transformed into a powerful tool for healing and self-discovery. This evolution parallels our collective journey from the hyper-individualistic Capricorn era to the more communal, emotionally aware Aquarian age we’re entering.

Through years of therapy, many of us have learned to identify emotions, to name them, hold them, and then release them. It’s a valuable process, but one that can sometimes feel clinical—another task on our endless to-do lists of self-improvement. Poetry, I’ve found, offers a different path.

Rather than turning emotional processing into yet another chore, poetry invites us to dive deeper into our feelings. It challenges us to capture the ephemeral, to trace the contours of our inner landscapes not in the language of psychology, but in the language of art. There’s a profound beauty in taking a fleeting emotion—the raw material of all my poetry—and crystallizing it in amber, preserving its essence in a form that can be shared and revisited.

This act of creative expression feels particularly significant in our current cultural moment. As a knowledge worker, researcher, and digital anthropologist, I’m constantly urged to “market myself,” to find my niche, to distill my complexity into a unique selling proposition. It’s as if the capitalist logic of the Capricorn era is making its last, desperate attempt to commodify our very selves before the Aquarian revolution.

But there’s something incredibly freeing—dare I say, revolutionary—in resisting this pressure. In showing up in digital spaces as a complicated, multi-faceted person. In expanding our creative muscles beyond the confines of our professional identities. Perhaps this is the Aquarian awakening in action: a collective decision to exist outside the box, to reject the elevator pitch version of ourselves that we’ve been conditioned to present.

“Echoes of Migrations” represents this liberation for me. It’s a declaration that I am more than my LinkedIn profile or Twitter bio. It’s an exploration of the nuanced, often contradictory emotions that make us human—emotions that can’t be neatly packaged into a personal brand or reduced to a tagline.

As we approach the launch date, I’ll be sharing some poems from the collection. I’m eager to hear your thoughts, not just on the poems themselves, but on this act of creative expansion. How are you resisting the pressure to simplify yourself? How are you honoring your complexity in a world that often demands easily digestible personal narratives?

In embracing poetry alongside my academic and professional work, I’m not just indulging a hobby. I’m making a statement about the kind of world I want to live in—one where we’re free to explore all facets of ourselves, where our value isn’t determined by our marketability, and where the language of emotion is given as much weight as the language of data and analysis.

As we navigate this transition from Capricorn to Aquarius, from late capitalism to whatever comes next, perhaps this is the real revolution: reclaiming our right to be fully, messily, beautifully human.

I've got some content recommendations for you coming in the next dispatch, so keep an eye out for that!