March 18, 2026
What’s here and mostly being ignored? New Moon March of ’26, I’m telling you. Last month the big topic was the Full Moon on the 3rd, and it was creating speculative and excited chatter all across the internet for weeks in advance. You couldn’t get online without seeing references to it and the alleged mind-bending, social resetting celestial possibilities it represented.
But this New Moon? Nothing. Crickets. This is the kind of vapid, slapdash modernity that makes me want to go off grid: either something is important, or it is not. Contemporary culture feels like things are significant for as long as it takes for something else to bump them off social media. I so miss living in a world that was not constantly being refreshed.
Enough of that, though. The New Moon energetically allows us the opportunity to cast our nets, or untie the lines and make way on the outgoing tide to see what we might conjure and create.
New Moon is “wish” energy, but there is a hack. The hack is to make your wish with open hands and allow for the greater forces that swirl up frequencies to send back something that might be different than what is carefully collaged and noted on your vision board, gratitude list, or manifesting journal.
When I was a little kid, it was common to have a booth at the school festival, or the church fair, that made a game of fishing. You traded your paper ticket for a pole with a string on it, and at the end of the string was not a hook but a clothespin. You’d cast your line over the curtained backdrop of the booth, and then when it was yanked, you’d pull it back and find a small paper bag on the clothespin.
There was never any treasure in the bag beyond the usual plastic toys given out at parties for kids, and maybe a piece of Bazooka bubble gum with a cartoon on the inside of the wrapper, but this game was not about the prize. It was about the chance, the wait, and the mystery. For a few minutes, anything could have been in that paper bag, and the entity behind the curtain arranging this was doing it solely for you, and in that moment was POTENTIALLY the repository of all benevolence in the universe. And it was pinning something to your line.
It’s like that, the movement of the moon cycle. It’s much bigger than us, and personal while also remote and boundless. If you think, “I’ll wish on this moon but I swear if there is not a set of four new tires in that paper bag, I’m out, I hate everybody” you’re not likely to have a good result.
Instead, the faith venture is the wish itself. We wish because we believe it is possible for a wish to be granted. We can’t wish with conditions; conditions in this case are a defense, to protect ourselves from harm, when we are risking something. Protectively defending ourselves when taking a chance is a reversed Tarot card, my friends. It means we don’t really believe. It means we are already fostering anticipatory disappointment.
I’ve gone on rather long about this but consider it my homage to a New Moon that isn’t getting any love this month. Here are the cards bringing an influx of energy to the next two weeks, for us to figure out how to best bait the hooks:
- The Hanged Man
- The Star
- 7 of Pentacles
- King of Pentacles, reversed
- 9 of Cups, reversed
This is a long term energy, and don’t let that put you off; it does not surprise me to see the King of Pentacles here reversed, because he just showed in the very same position for our weekly reading. This is not a period of lording it around in material issues of food, money, and shelter.
Well, not in an immediate pay-off kind of way, I mean. We end also with a reversed 9 of Cups. These two cards don’t mean “no.” They mean “not yet.”
The 9 of Cups, if it were upright, would be a quiet and personal satisfaction; it reflects the inner contentment of managing feelings and emotions well and a sense of growing emotional maturity. The 9 of Cups is a card of achievement, just as the King of Pentacles is, and if they were upright we’d be sitting pretty and have the foundation needed (emotionally and physically) to really make big moves, or to put wish energy into big moves. To look at our life goals and say, “This is the time to apply to school,” or “I’m ready to expand my business” or “I’m going to take a big personal risk that I’ve been dreaming of for a long time!”
Uh, no. Don’t do that right now. These cards are reversed, so they are not able to support the qualities we need to make a huge acquisition. Circle back with me to the first three cards. They aren’t about getting, they are about growing. It’s not time to make the leap; it is time to invest in the ramp that you’ll run up, in order to make the leap.
The 7 of Pentacles is always that excruciating wait when you must hold yourself back. You don’t want to, you hate it, but you also know with complete certainty that if you jump too soon, you’ll ruin the whole thing. It’s timing. We always believe we can think our way around timing issues, but that’s rarely true.
There’s a magic about timing and all the elements coming into alignment. The Hanged Man and The Star cards give us a two-pillared strategy for using this New Moon’s particular energy to position ourselves for what may be evolving, but is not quite ready for us, down the road.
Those things are: laser focus, and hope. The Hanged Man has not removed himself from the action whatsoever, even though it may look like he’s left us. He’s just taken a step back to clear his head and change perspective. And The Star card is all about the wishing and hoping discussed earlier; the stars are consistent in their ability to encourage and inspire us, just by looking up on a clear night at the dazzling dark sky, sparkling with unearthly beauty. The stars remind us of those greater forces that made the entire universe. The Hanged Man is about perspective, and so is The Star, making these two great partners of thought that is innovative, insightful, and full of optimism.
It is our human perception that the moon changes, just a tiny bit, every single night. The moon is not static, and the forecast from this spread that steers us toward putting effort and wishes into preparation for a big thing, and not the big thing itself, should be welcomed as a step on the path and not the disappointment of finding a cheap plastic toy in your paper bag.
The more we enjoy the preparation stage, and not rush through it, the more we’ll enjoy the payoff. That’s what will make the most of the next couple of weeks.
