What’s Misaligned Has No Anchor

I’m no longer protecting myself. Protection builds walls, and I’m not here to live in a prison of my own making. When I’m attuning, it’s so precise, so clean, that the noise can’t find me. It’s not a matter of hiding or standing behind a shield. When I attune my frequency, the vibration of the space doesn’t allow what’s not meant to cross my path to see me—or hear me. That’s what it means to live in coherence. What’s misaligned has no anchor. I don’t push it away. It simply can’t enter. I’m learning that true boundaries aren’t about defending—they’re about resonating. ~me

NOTE: As I write this, civil disorder is erupting—Los Angeles, New York City, Ireland. In Colombia, an assassination attempt was made on a presidential candidate and he survived. With Jupiter and Mercury at the Anaretic 29° of Gemini, crossing into Cancer, extreme ideologies are hardening into fierce nationalism—willing to do whatever it takes to preserve the perceived principles of the motherland. These acts are volatile at his threshold, holding the last breath of mental dispersal before emotion floods the field. Thought becomes conviction, words turn into shields. There is an amplification of identity and bloodline. A psychological border is being crossed.

I pray for peace and call for realignment—tuning into the frequency of pure light.

Identity is gradual, cumulative; because there is no need for it to manifest itself, it shows itself intermittently, the way a star hints at the pulse of its being by means of its flickering light. But at what moment in this oscillation is our true self manifested? In the darkness or the twinkle? Paintings by Emil Bisttram

What Lands in the Body Becomes Real

I’m writing this from a place of attunement. I’ve been asking myself: what still inspires me? What do I want to speak into the field that feels resonant—not reactive?

Maybe you can share with me at the end in the comments—what is it that you're feeling, sensing, reading, what is it th at is inspiring you right now, what is it that is keeping you awake. Because you can't wait for the next time that you can actually do that. It doesn't have to be artistic. It could be creative in many different ways. If you have a project in your mind that you would like to do—simple, like you would like to learn about something—then you're going to figure out how to study it, where to study it, why to study it, and how much time you're going to devote to that.

You know what else I'm also noticing, probably for a couple of months now? People are going under the radar. People are not available. When I say people, I mean people I used to chat with. It's like—they're just not available anymore. And it happens to me too. I'm not being very available either. I wonder if it's a kind of self-regulating protection. Somehow, we don’t want to be out there as much. I think there's a fatigue about being available. A fatigue that comes with so much noise going on. People are just doing their own thing. Whatever that is, they just stop being so available. I'm noticing that.

In that quiet, I’ve been reflecting on the people who shaped my ability to feel again.

For a while I have been meaning to share the source of many of my mentors and practitioners who, one way or another, created an impact and mirrored moments of truth—when my inquiry led me to seek their support. I have practiced many modalities.

When the Body Remembers for You

Today, I want to honor the many great people who have mentored me—and whom I have mentored. Some I’ve worked with in the past, some I still work with. Each of them opened a door—into trauma, ancestry, memory—and I’m still walking through it. I’ve tapped into deep layers of pain and lineage, and I’m still in the process. Because it’s not that I want to make a big deal about my vulnerabilities. What I want to make a big deal about is the possibility of living a life without their grip—or at least integrating them so I become my evolving self. Their transmissions and mirroring moved the mentor-mentee dynamic into something else—something that touches both inner and outer authority. It’s a dual relationship, where both disciple and mentor learn what they need to reflect within the relationship itself. You could call them a wisdom family. They’ve shaped, beyond the deeper study of astrology, my work with Human Design (via a study group I’ve facilitated since the end of 2022), and the somatic practices that now anchor this emotional unfolding.

Victimhood is a decision to live without courage

~Tiziano Sguerso

So I have to grant a lot of acknowledgment to evolutionary astrology, not only to my teachers, Simon and Ari, but to the people who made this paradigm be—Dane Rudhyar, Jeffrey Wolf Green. I also want to acknowledge Gabor. I think it was through the somatic work in his workshops that something was unlocked and made that happen—despite the pain I knew I would feel.

Gabor's Compassionate Inquiry’s approach sent me into shock in 2021, when I discovered—during one of his workshops—that my cellular memory had kept track of my mother’s nervous system. My mom was pregnant with me when my elder brother developed asthma. She mirrored his ailment, becoming asthmatic herself. I must have absorbed all her fears, all the protective signals she was sending—before I was even born. Then, when I arrived strong and healthy, her attention shifted to him. He needed more. I felt my first abandonment. Later, when I was eight, my father died suddenly. That was the second. These early imprints shaped me into someone who over-pleased, who fused with others’ needs, who disappeared inside caretaking. The nervous system kept the score. What I experienced through Gabor’s work was the unlocking of ancestral imprint through embodied awareness. A recognition that what I had carried all along didn’t begin with me, but it lived in me. And I was ready to release it. My astrology signature proves this, but that would be another article.

Lineage, Memory, and the Shape of Love

The little girl and my dad

Lately I’ve been watching these videos of little girls with their dads—tender, playful moments where the father is present, flirting with her spirit, and the girl feels seen. They touch me so deeply. There’s something about that kind of innocence and safety that goes right into my heart. It made me realize—I want to go back to that place. Not to the past, but to the feeling. The way I once related to my dad. That longing to return to innocence led me deeper into the lineage I had once blocked out entirely. My mom had a similar story, a tragic one, and these days I’ve been working on that imprint. I want to find how to relate to him again—but as an adult.

My grandfather and the kidney stones

In an earlier article, I shared this experience: My mother and I didn’t grow up with a father. There’s a long line of absence there. And on the first anniversary of her death, I did a very short session—less than 30 minutes—with someone in Australia named Tiziano. He practices something called Language of the Soul, a form of systemic therapy and family constellations. He asked me to connect to my grandfather, which I had never even considered before. I don’t remember exactly what he said—but the next day, I had intense pain in my back. It turned out to be kidney stones. I dissolved them naturally. At the time, I thought—maybe this is connected. But it wasn’t until nine months later—just recently—that I realized how deeply connected it really was.

He tapped into the Morphogenetic Field. According to Rupert Sheldrake’s theory, every system—whether a cell, a body, a family, or a species—contains a memory field that holds the imprint of all past forms and experiences. This field shapes the present through resonance with ancestral patterns. We entered that field as a living reality—an ancestral signal moving through sensation, breath, and presence. It revealed what had been held in silence for generations. Both time and space dissolved. A profound healing was activated. I could track it back to a pain that had crystallized. My mother suffered facial paralysis when she was young—after her father died suddenly. My session with Tiziano helped me unload her burden and mine. It was a powerful, liberating experience.

I’m also working with Mark Jones, who I have to say is a fantastic evolutionary astrologer and therapist. His books are my favorite on Evolutionary Astrology—more than even Jeffrey Wolf Green’s. While Jeffrey’s Pluto books are powerful transmissions, they’re mostly compiled from his talks. Mark was a direct student of Jeffrey, and what he has done is synthesize that body of work and build on it, using Psychosynthesis and years of doing sessions. He brings a depth that reveals many layers. I told Mark the story last week, and we were both fascinated by the soul’s capacity to tap across time and space into breakthrough.

So it's been a process, and while I'm still in the middle of it, I can see the new shape of it. Between Kai Mantsch—where I work on boundary issues somatically—Mark Jones, and that one session with Tiziano, the perceptions that held me prisoner have begun to dissolve. My lengthy studies with Simon Vorster and Ari Moshe Wolfe, along with multiple workshop interactions with Gabor Maté, have anchored the layers—emotional, ancestral, and psychological. I’ve been slowly deepening into my inner child bliss. Sound therapy and humming are my main practices, and they align beautifully with Gate 15, where my North Node is found.

The greater soul moves in only one direction,and that is to bring into union that which has been made separate.

Bert Hellinger

The Moment When Meaning Lands

What I think was interesting is that the Lunar nodes entered Cancer on November 6, 2018, and stayed there until May 5, 2020—too early, in a way, to fully understand the deeper themes of emotional security, ancestral roots, nurturing connections, and the emotional legacy we were living through at the time. But then, when the North Node moved into Gemini, it took about a year and a half before we could begin making sense of what had just happened to us with the imposed scamdemic and imposed lock down. The focus shifted toward the small daily gestures that gave meaning. We started paying attention to how we communicated—first with ourselves, then with those we lived with, or those we could reach despite the lockdown.

And now, it feels like we’re in the reverse. Jupiter is finishing its cycle in Gemini, where we entertained many ideas and explored endless mental loops and projects. But with the tension of the square to Saturn, we’ve been pressed to ask: what structure actually supports expansion? That square made people nervous, uneasy—especially around their own authority. There’s been a rising insecurity not just about who we are, but about how to hold space around that identity—how to express ourselves emotionally in a way that feels grounded.

Now the structure is in the individuality—Saturn in Aries—and the expansion is in emotional security—Jupiter in Cancer. What this axis is asking is simple and hard at the same time: can your individuation hold your belonging? I’ve spent the last year moving through ideas, patterns, mental loops, and new projects—Jupiter in Gemini offered a lot of possibilities. But Saturn kept squaring it, and that tension made it clear: expansion without a stable structure just disperses.

Now, as the square completes and the signs shift, something else is emerging. I’m asking how curiosity and purpose can land. How they become embodied. How they take form in something I trust. Inner authority isn’t about certainty. It’s about coherence. It’s about being able to show up emotionally because I’ve built something inside that can hold what I feel.

Giving acknowledgment to the processes and teachers who have supported my reconnection to the emotional body is the perfect segue from Jupiter and Mercury at 29° Gemini to 0° Cancer. Jupiter is the teacher—and in Gemini, it was about how I communicated with their teachings, how I found the language. Now the step is integration. I’ve been working with trauma in ways I’m now ready to share. With Jupiter so close to my North Node, this marks a long arc of emotional integration.

Jupiter at 29 degrees is the final teaching through landscape, dialogue, and cognition. I’ve been finding the words for what I’ve been living. As it crosses into Cancer, the teachings enter the body. This is the portal where recognition becomes embodiment. Acknowledgment becomes integration. This is the moment the teaching lands. With Jupiter conjuncting my North Node, this is a karmic expansion. I am stepping into the destiny of lived emotional wisdom. I am embodying my value. I become the one who holds and transmits it. This is lineage-level integration.

In Evolutionary Astrology, the quarter square from Aries to Cancer creates a nervous insecurity—not just about taking space as an individual, but about fully feeling it in the body. Here, emotions become the language, not the mind. With Saturn, Neptune, and Ceres now in Aries, the pressure to define form and nurture the self is building. But it’s a subterranean and cellular event. These planets square Jupiter and Mercury in Cancer, demanding a new kind of communication—one that moves from somatic truth. This is where emotion instructs, as we are being asked to anchor our individuality not through force, but through the coherence of felt sense.

…And one realizes that Carl Jung and Roberto Assagioli were not just students of astrology, they were dynamic practicing astrologers, and isn’t it interesting? A book that I started out to write about what psychotherapy in particular could offer astrology in terms of communicating with clients and the relationship dynamic and putting across a sense of service and meaning within it, also came this realization that astrology itself had supported these pioneering figures to go beyond Freud into deeper meaning…. […] But yes, it became this bigger realization that at the heart of the 20th century–just prior to the Second World War, just prior to the Holocaust, the Atomic Revolution, just coincident with the discovery of Pluto basically, in a year that’s shaped by the discovery of Pluto–you have this incredible meeting of these figures who personally interact with each other: the founders of depth psychology and the core figure–in my view, Dane Rudhyar is the core figure–of the foundation of modern psychological, and especially modern spiritual astrology via evolutionary astrology, who I think one can correctly see Dane Rudhyar is the father of really….

Mark Jones on the Therapeutic Potential of Astrology

With Chris Brennan, The Astrology Podcast, 2015

Full Moon Truth: Meaning Is a Felt Sense

This Full Moon on the 11th falls at 20° Sagittarius and opposes my Venus. Venus in Gemini has been central in this arc—especially as it’s where Jupiter began its retrograde last year. I’m integrating what’s unfolded since then: the way small gestures became meaningful, how past interactions deepened, how my perception shifted.

The Moon also squares the nodal axis across my second and eighth houses. This is a reckoning with real, embodied value. Saturn squaring Jupiter in the cardinal signs makes it all land in the body. The clock ticks forward. We’ve synthesized. Now: can we feel it?

During this same period, I began working with Mark. The seed was planted in October, and as Venus retrograded, our sessions deepened. Around that time, the ancestral healing with Tiziano emerged. Layer by layer, I’m still unfolding what’s lived inside all along.

Saturn crossed my Chiron. Chiron passed my Mars. I’ve been learning what makes me vulnerable and what makes me strong—and how those are partners, not opposites. I’m sharing from that place now.

image snatched from the WWW.

Magnetism, Rhythm, and Re-patterning

Gate 15 is now being activated by Jupiter as it meets my natal North Node. This gate is about rhythm, magnetism, and finding flow—my own natural tempo, not what the world expects of me. Since it’s in my North Node, it’s part of my long-term direction. I’m here to embody the energy of acceptance, the full spectrum of being, and living in a way that honors my own timing. With Jupiter here, the volume is turned up. I feel an expansion around how I express my rhythm and how I attract others through it. When I’m in sync with myself, I am aligned, I become magnetic. When I’m not, I feel it immediately—things get noisy, disjointed and completely out of sync.

The Rhythm of Lineage

This transit is pushing me to be more intentional about the environments I choose and the energy I tune in. I’m learning to move in my own rhythm, not just for me—but as an act of healing for those who came before me. This is the rhythm of lineage-level embodiment.

I’ve come to understand that Uranus in my 7th house is about liberation through relationships. Each partnership I’ve drawn in has shown me something about my own individuation—sometimes through sudden ruptures, other times through dynamics that don’t follow the rules. I’ve never been able to conform to relationship norms. I need space more than security. The moment someone tries to define me, something inside resists.

With Uranus in Virgo, that resistance becomes even more precise. My liberation comes through discernment. I’ve had to break from inherited notions of duty or perfection—especially the ones that make me feel fragmented or like I have to fix myself or others. The healing began when I stopped organizing my life to be useful for others and started tuning into what brings coherence to me.

In my chart, Uranus is conjunct with Pluto in the 8th house. Relationships are karmic, transformative—as these planets are in a balsamic relationship. Carrying intensity, they’ve forced me to break contracts I didn’t even know I made and rebuild from truth. With Pluto in the 8th, it goes deeper. The bonds I form are never superficial, there’s always merging, always something at stake. But nothing stays if it doesn’t evolve.

Uranus also opposes my Saturn in Pisces in the 1st house. This has been a lifelong dance between needing structure and needing freedom—between dissolving into others and finding spiritual ground within myself. I’ve had to let go of martyrdom and learn what it means to carry my own authority. This whole setup is a setup I created in this lifetime to evolve, a liberation path that moves through intimacy, truth, and presence. I’m walking it now.

I have been working with Mark on the idea of putting myself back in the market, lol. Someone asked me this last week in Vegas and I smiled and nodded, yes, almost there. While I have acquired my full freedom, it is through small nuances that I build a steady grounded base—to support my needs and not project them into the other.

Now in 2025, transiting Pluto at 3° Aquarius makes a perfect quincunx (150°) to my natal North Node at 3° Cancer, and squares my natal Jupiter at 3° Taurus as well. The cycle returns in layered precision. A symbolic alignment. Synchrony echoing three global shifts—each landing directly on the axis of my emotional truth and expansion. A karmic convergence at different times, calling for recalibration to embody my heart and act from inner authority, having left all control behind. That is my cross.

This aspect pulls my emotional purpose (Cancer Jupiter/Node) into relationship with collective transformation and individuation (Pluto in Aquarius). It’s dissonant on the surface, but powerful when harmonized through embodiment.

The New Moon on June 25 is at 4° Cancer, ruled by the Moon itself. On this same day, Jupiter conjuncts my North Node—a moment that links body, memory, and meaning. The odds echo past initiations: on 9/11/2001, Jupiter was at 11° Cancer and the Moon conjunct the nodal axis, exactly on my North Node at 3° Cancer. Then, on March 24, 2020—just 10 days after the lockdown—Jupiter and Pluto joined at 24° Capricorn while I had my second nodal return. These events aren’t random. They form a symbolic triad, mapping global shifts onto personal transformation. Each one marked an inflection point in how I relate to safety, truth, and embodiment.

Together, these transits say: you cannot think your way through this. Embodiment is the call. Let it land in the body. Let it ripple through the cells. Let your wisdom magnetize what is true.

Inheritance Is Cellular

In Human Design, Gate 15 is the Gate of Extremes—but it’s also the Gate of Humanity, of accepting diversity in all things: schedules, energies, moods, lifestyles. When it lands in Cancer, this gate becomes even more sensitive, cyclical, and emotionally attuned.

“Let’s look at the emotional inheritance.”“Let’s explore what nurtures and what depletes you.”“Let’s grow by healing the family frequency—and rewriting the rhythm.”

So as Jupiter meets Gate 15 from now till June 26, 2025 in Cancer, it’s like the universe is offering a chance to:

• Tune into ancestral rhythms: What emotional cycles have been on repeat?

• Break patterns that keep you out of your true timing—especially those that came from trying to please, protect, or fit in with family dynamics.

• Claim a new rhythm that honors your emotional needs, not just your responsibilities.

You’re not just feeling into your rhythm—you’re feeling into the emotional tempo of your lineage. The way your ancestors coped, adapted, nurtured, and protected—that’s woven into your current flow. And now, with Jupiter lighting this gate up, it’s like a spotlight on the question:

"Am I still carrying emotional patterns that don’t belong to me?"

Since this is my North Node, it isn’t a small theme. This is my soul's compass saying:“I am meant to learn how to find safety within my own flow.” An emotional, energetic safety—even if that means breaking away from what was expected in my family line. I may feel a deep pull toward creating space—in my home, in my heart, in my energy field—that supports my natural rhythm, not the inherited hustle or emotional over functioning we were taught. With Jupiter’s support, I can expand into emotional sovereignty, letting go of inherited timing, guilt, and cycles that don’t match who I am now. I don’t have to rush, nor fix everyone. I just have to honor the tempo of my own truth—and trust that doing so magnetizes the right people, places, and paths.

The Soul Knows Its Timing

And with that comes a broader collective message. Jupiter in Cancer enhances connection to nationalism, ancestry, or inherited belief systems—sometimes expressed through patriotism or religion. As Jupiter clashes with Saturn and Neptune over the next months, we will see this tension play out. The urge to return to “family values” or national security will erupt alongside pressure to spiritualize or dissolve old forms. Riots, polarization, and dogmatic resurgence are likely. But beneath it, there’s an evolutionary question: what kind of emotional belonging actually supports growth?

The USA chart holds planets in Cancer—Venus, Jupiter, Sun, and Mercury—making this transit especially potent for collective identity. Cancerian energy in the U.S. chart often expresses as “home” and “protection” narratives, but the Cancer-Capricorn axis also holds the karmic root of power, parental projection, and state control.

Uranus moving into Gemini in July will activate the U.S. chart’s Uranus return, igniting a revolution of ideas. Apart from technological shifts or AI—it’s also a reconfiguration of how communication itself forms structure. We’re entering a new cycle of mental sovereignty, of reclaiming the Logos, of asking again: what is truth, and who holds the authority to speak it?

What’s in a name?

When I was born, they gave me one: Mónica—with an O, an accent, and a C. I learned to read and write very early, and I remember writing my name over and over, noticing that accent on the O and feeling something strange, like I wasn’t fully related to this person. So I dropped the accent. Just wrote how it felt. I got in trouble in school—they made me rewrite it again and again. At some point, I don’t remember if it was my father or someone else, but they told me my name could also be written with a K. And that’s the one I adopted. I claimed it—to the point that I legally changed it.

My last names come from different lands, different stories. Lesaca is from the north of Spain, Basque territory—Navarra and Gipuzkoa. It means “little field” or “meadow.” Place-based. Rooted. A name tied to land. Bocanegra comes from Italy by way of Spain—Liguria, Genoa. It means “black mouth,” a name for someone sharp-tongued or bold-spoken. That one makes sense. It traveled with the sailors and stayed. Bravo is Castilian. It means brave, fierce, wild. Probably the most poetic and also the most common. Hernández is a patronymic name—it means “son of Hernando.” Widespread, solid, generational. A name that echoes through households and town squares, through both sides of the empire and memory.

I’m doing this research now because, for most of my life, I didn’t care about the memory of my ancestors. Suddenly, I do. Maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s time. Maybe it’s because almost everyone who held that information is already gone. So I’m piecing it together, name by name, letter by letter. Trying to remember something I never knew. I’m piecing it together—name by name, letter by letter—listening for a language I never learned, but always carried.

MENTORS and healers in my path:

TIZIANO

an episode with mark Jones