October–November 2026: The throne wavers, the past resurfaces, and conscience is called upon to make a choice

A world marked by wars, protests, and crises of confidence in institutions. A sky that brings together weakened planets, retrogrades, Gandānta, and ancient Jyotiṣa combinations. But also a sacred month that invites us to rediscover our roots, free ourselves from attachments, and take responsibility for change.

October 27, 2026. Yesterday marked the beginning of the month of Kārtika according to the Pūrṇimānta lunar calendar. It is one of the most spiritually significant periods of the year in the Vaiṣṇava tradition, a month dedicated to Dāmodara, the form of Kṛṣṇa who willingly allows Himself to be bound by Mother Yaśodā’s love. I have already discussed the significance and practices of this period in the article Kārtika 2026: The holiest month of the year, when Love manages to bind God. Today, however, I’d like to look up at the sky that marks this month and reflect on what’s happening in the world.

Because, as we enter a season dedicated to love, we are witnessing growing collective unease. In the Middle East, conflicts and military tensions continue. In Italy and in various parts of Europe, protests are multiplying against rearmament, the cost of living, economic hardships, and government policies. In some cities in northern Italy, we have witnessed episodes of violence, while in Albania, student protests have taken on a national scale, with clashes, arrests, and growing opposition to political authority.

Of course, every protest has different reasons, and it would be incorrect to attribute all these events to a single cause. But I seem to recognize a common thread: an increasingly visible segment of the population is struggling to have confidence in the future and in the institutions that are supposed to represent them. And I believe it would be a mistake to view these protests solely through the lens of the violent incidents that sometimes accompany them. Behind this discontent may lie unheeded demands, pent-up frustrations, and people who are trying, with the means at their disposal, to change something in their own lives.

But what does the sky tell us about this period? In Jyotiṣa, to understand a historical moment, we must not merely observe the transit of a single planet. We must consider the dignities of the Grahas, their relationships, the Nakshatras they traverse, and the configurations that emerge from the overall arrangement of the planets. World astrology also requires additional references, such as national charts and the appropriate temporal cycles. We cannot, therefore, transform a symbolic correspondence into proof of causality or an inevitable prediction. We can, however, use the language of the heavens to gain a deeper understanding of the times we are living in.

And this sky is truly worth paying attention to.

The Weakened Sun: The Crisis of Authority and Leadership

Let’s start with the Sun, the king of the Grahas, because I believe it is one of the most important interpretive keys for this period. On October 17, the Sun entered sidereal Libra, its sign of debilitation (Nīca), where it will remain until November 16. Around October 27, it reaches its traditional point of greatest weakness, at 10° Libra.

Okay, this combination occurs every year, but let’s start right here because, in addition to the Sun being debilitated, there will also be other important combinations, such as the retrograde motion of Mercury and Venus, the debilitation of Mars, and various Yogas of great interest.

The Sun represents authority, sovereignty, leadership, the ability to govern, and the capacity to take on responsibility. In Libra, a sign ruled by Venus, the solar principle must grapple with relationships, agreements, negotiation, and the need to find balance with others. Its debilitation can, in our interpretation, symbolize the difficulty that power faces when it loses the recognition and trust of those it is meant to protect. Venus, the dispositor, is retrograde and “feels as if it were” in Aries (even though it is in Libra)—a sign still associated with Mars and tension. Venus’s diplomacy encounters the environment of Mars, and this creates a strong contrast.

And the leadership crisis is precisely one of the issues that seem to be coming to the forefront right now. In the United States, the Jeffrey Epstein scandal continues to fuel serious questions about the relationship between wealth, political influence, abuse, and accountability. Throughout 2026, millions of pages of documents were made public, while new testimonies from victims and congressional initiatives continued to call for transparency. On October 26, new allegations were also published in a report by Democratic members of the House Judiciary Committee concerning President Donald Trump and his ties to Epstein. The president rejects these allegations, which must be distinguished from the legal liabilities that have already been established.

I believe it is important to distinguish at least three levels in the events being reported. The first level concerns people who had financial, professional, or social ties to Epstein: the mere presence of a name in the documents does not constitute proof of guilt. A second level concerns those who allegedly participated in, facilitated, or knowingly benefited from sex trafficking and abuse—including of minors—regarding which there are confirmed crimes and additional allegations yet to be verified. A third level concerns testimonies and accounts of alleged ritualized forms of violence and extreme abuse. These latter allegations, which are particularly serious, cannot be considered established facts without adequate corroboration, nor can they be automatically attributed to the Epstein network. However, they can be examined seriously, distinguishing direct testimony from secondhand information and subsequent interpretations.

That is precisely the point: listening to a credible account does not mean indiscriminately believing every statement. It means not dismissing it simply because it is uncomfortable, involves influential people, or describes something we find hard to imagine. Credibility is assessed based on expertise, firsthand experience, the consistency of the account, and any corroborating evidence. Those who report abuse must be able to speak out without being intimidated, and those who are accused must be entitled to a rigorous evaluation of the evidence.

Another phenomenon that raises questions about the relationship between power and transparency is the disclosure of UAPs—unidentified anomalous phenomena. In recent years, former intelligence officials, military personnel, and whistleblowers have provided testimony regarding sightings, classified programs, and alleged activities operating outside the ordinary oversight of institutions. Some of these statements have also been made before the U.S. Congress. Independent reports, including those by Liberation Times, continue to collect these testimonies and monitor the issue of whistleblower protection.

The most extraordinary claims—such as the existence of secret programs to recover non-human technologies—remain under investigation and cannot be publicly presented as proven facts. But questions about the transparency of government agencies, the classification of documents, and the possibility that important information is being withheld from public debate are legitimate.

And here is the theme of the sun that emerges: How much do we really know about the power that governs our lives? And who controls those who wield that power?

A society cannot demand unconditional trust from its citizens while at the same time shirking its responsibility to be accountable for its actions. Trust should stem from behavior, not simply from a position of authority.

And now we can see the Sun's two companions during this period, both of which are retrograde.

Mercury and Venus in Retrograde: When the Past Comes Back to Demand Explanations

The astrological picture becomes even more interesting when we look at the other planets in Libra. Mercury and Venus are both retrograde and conjunct the debilitated Sun. Venus began its retrograde motion on October 3, and Mercury on October 24. Furthermore, Venus is combust from October 19 to 29, while Mercury will be combust from October 30 to November 10.

In Jyotiṣa, retrograde motion should not be interpreted simply as a weakness. Retrograde planets can manifest great intensity, even through unusual or excessive behavior. It is as if their energy becomes more insistent and demands special attention.

Mercury governs communication, information, commerce, trade, analytical intelligence, and the ability to discern. When it goes retrograde, we can symbolically recognize the risk of an excess or a deficiency of these qualities. Too much information, too many interpretations, overlapping statements, contradictory communications. Or silences, omissions, and difficulties in understanding and being understood. Its proximity to the debilitated Sun can add another theme: the difficulty of distinguishing communication aimed at knowledge from communication that seeks above all to defend a position of power—propaganda.

But there is one aspect of retrograde motion that I find particularly significant: the planet seems to move backward, retracing part of its path. It’s an image we can connect to the need to revisit what has happened, reexamine documents, reread statements, listen to overlooked testimonies, and reconsider our conclusions. Not to invent a different story, but to verify whether what we know is complete. Mercury leads us to examine what we’ve been told and what is actually true.

And this is happening at a time when our relationship with news is undergoing profound changes. Many young people no longer wait for the news to find out what’s happening. They use YouTube, podcasts, international platforms, social media, and independent journalists. They can listen directly to firsthand accounts in English, compare different versions, and consult documents that might receive little attention in the national media. The Digital News Report 2026 A study by the Reuters Institute confirms that, among young adults, social media and video platforms have become the primary channels for accessing news.

This does not mean that alternative sources of information are necessarily more reliable. Even independent outlets can make mistakes, manipulate information, or try to stir up emotions to gain attention. But it does mean that we can no longer assume that a handful of news organizations represent the entire spectrum of available knowledge. Mercurio’s job is precisely to compare, verify, and discern—without blindly surrendering our ability to judge to anyone.

Venus in retrograde introduces a different dimension. Venus represents relationships, pleasure, love, values, and the ability to find harmony. During retrograde, old relationships, unresolved misunderstandings, repressed desires, or dissatisfactions we thought we had overcome may resurface. Sometimes we may notice a tendency toward resignation; other times, toward an excessive pursuit of pleasure, intimacy, or sensory satisfaction. What once seemed fulfilling may suddenly lose its value, while something we had forgotten comes back to demand our attention.

Mercury and Venus are the two planets rājasici in the traditional classification of the Grahas. The rajas It is the quality of action, desire, and the pursuit of results. And let’s consider how our modern society is built precisely around many of the qualities represented by these planets: commerce, production, the accumulation of wealth, consumption, pleasure, and the fulfillment of desires.

When both become retrograde, we can symbolically interpret this as a reevaluation of these foundations. We’ve multiplied our means of communication, but have we become better at listening to one another? We’ve increased the availability of goods and services, but are we truly more satisfied? We’ve made pleasure one of life’s main goals, but have we become better at loving?

In the approach to the chakras that I teach, Mercury is associated with the first energy center, Mūlādhāra, while Venus is linked to the second, Svādhiṣṭhāna. These are the material foundations of our existence: support, security, grounding, relationships, pleasure, and the ability to embrace life. And it is precisely these foundations that today seem to be shaken by profound instability. The fear of losing one’s job, home, or livelihood. Relationship difficulties, a sense of loneliness, and the constant search for something that can fill an inner void.

Perhaps behind all this discontent lies not only the desire to have more. We also find the need to finally feel supported and loved. We find those basic needs from Maslow’s hierarchy that are constantly being called into question.

Saṁkhyā Yoga: Between the Call of the Earth and the Ties That Bind Us

There is another astrological configuration that I find particularly interesting and that might go unnoticed if we limited ourselves to studying the conditions of individual planets. I am referring to the Nābhasa Saṁkhyā Yoga, ancient combinations that describe the overall arrangement of the seven Grahas visible in the twelve zodiac signs.

I cover this in depth in my course The 5 Secrets of Vedic Astrology, in which I devote an entire lecture to these configurations and their relationship to personality, motivations, and the deepest structures of the mind.

Their construction is relatively simple: one observes the number of zodiac signs across which the seven visible planets—from the Sun to Saturn, excluding Rāhu and Ketu—are distributed. From this distribution, seven forms emerge, each with a specific meaning. Of course, in the classical interpretation of the natal chart, we must also respect the established precedence among the different categories of Nābhasa Yoga. Applying the Saṁkhyā Yoga to the transits is a natural interpretive extension, useful for contemplating the symbolic quality of the period.

In Bṛhat Jātaka, Varāhamihira describes these combinations in the chapter devoted to Nābhasa Yoga. One of the most interesting is Kedāra Yoga, which occurs when the seven Grahas occupy four Signs. Kedāra means cultivated field or farmland, and its classical interpretation refers to working the land and the ability to produce something useful for others as well.

Kedāra, therefore, has a very concrete meaning. It brings us back to sustenance, agriculture, the work necessary to sustain life, and our relationship with Mother Earth. It is not merely a bucolic image or a vague desire to live in nature. The earth represents what we depend on materially, what we cultivate, and what we must learn to protect in order to continue living.

On October 25, the sky shifted from Śūla Yoga to Kedara Yoga. Śūla Yoga is ruled by Mars and encourages action, conflict, and debate. It is interesting to observe this shift just as, in various parts of Europe, protests are highlighting issues related to the cost of living, the right to housing, the availability of resources, and working conditions. Not all protests concern agriculture or the environment, of course, but the relationship between people, the land, and basic means of subsistence is one of the themes that emerges. Kedara is ruled by Mercury, and Mercury is linked, as we mentioned, to the first Chakra.

Kedāra invites us to ask ourselves how far we have strayed from what truly sustains our lives. We can build increasingly complex economic systems, but we still need water, land, food, clean air, relationships, and community. We can accumulate financial wealth, but no amount of wealth can replace fertile land capable of nourishing us.

I also find it interesting that some contemporary protests concern the way in which the land is being transformed and used. In Albania, for example, in the months leading up to the student demonstrations, there were protests against tourism development projects in coastal areas. This is an issue that concerns not only the economy but also the right of communities to feel a sense of belonging to their land and to participate in decisions about its future.

In the interpretive method I teach, the Kāraka of Kedāra Yoga is Mercury. And here is a surprising correspondence: just as the sky forms Kedāra, Mercury is retrograde, near the debilitated Sun and close to combustion. The planet of communication, commerce, and resource management is symbolically called upon to reflect on the past, while the sky takes on a configuration that brings us back to agricultural work and the material foundations of life.

But the sky is never still in Kedāra. On October 31, as Jupiter enters Leo, a brief formation will occur Pāśa Yoga, before returning once more to Kedāra later that same day. On November 5, Pāśa will return again, and in the weeks that follow, the planetary alignment will alternate between this configuration and others, particularly Dāma Yoga.

Pāśa occurs when the seven Grahas occupy five Signs. Its name means “snare,” “rope,” or “bond,” and it is precisely through this image that we can understand one of its deepest meanings.

A bond can hold something in place, but it can also create a connection. Bonds aren’t necessarily negative: without relationships, responsibilities, and a sense of belonging, we couldn’t build a society. The problem arises when what initially sustains us becomes something we can no longer separate ourselves from.

In the interpretation I propose, Pāśa thus refers to the comfort zones and attachments that hold us back. These are situations in which we may remain for years—not because we are truly happy, but because we have learned to live with them. Financial dependencies, habits, unsatisfying relationships, beliefs we are unwilling to let go of, and structures that offer us security but limit our freedom.

Sometimes the strongest bond isn't the one that causes us obvious pain. It's the one that holds us back without bothering us enough to make us want to change.

And here we find another particularly interesting astrological connection. In the method I follow, the Kāraka of Pāśa Yoga is Venus. Venus, in fact, is currently retrograde and combust, and on November 5, it will re-enter Virgo, its sign of debilitation.

The planet of pleasure, desire, and relationships becomes the signifier of a configuration that invites us to recognize our attachments. It is as if the heavens were asking us to carefully observe how much of our freedom we are willing to sacrifice in order not to give up a form of pleasure or security.

And on November 5, when Venus enters Virgo, there will also be a Parivartana with Mercury, which will remain in Libra. The exchange of signs will last until November 22, creating an even closer relationship between the two Graha rājas.

This is one of the configurations I consider most significant from that period: Kedāra calls us back to the earth and to authentic support; Pāśa shows us the bonds that can distance us from our freedom. And their Kārakas, Mercury and Venus, are precisely the two retrograde planets that ask us to reexamine the foundations—in terms of basic needs—of our society.

We could also interpret this movement as a conflict between two collective desires. On the one hand, there is the need to rediscover a more natural relationship with life, with the land, and with what is truly necessary. On the other hand, there is the difficulty of letting go of a system of habits, consumption, and dependencies that we continue to feed even when we recognize its limitations.

On November 9, Dāma Yoga will also appear, formed by the distribution of the seven Grahas across six Signs. Its classical symbolism evokes, among other things, the act of giving and contributing to others. It is interesting that, following the comparison between Kedāra and Pāśa, this possibility also emerges: letting go of attachments does not necessarily mean renouncing all bonds, but rather learning to transform them into relationships of support, service, and sharing.

After all, Mother Earth doesn't teach us to accumulate without limit. She teaches us to receive, nurture, and give back.

Ketu's Gandānta: When an Ancient Knot Begins to Unravel

On October 26, right at the beginning of Kārtika, Ketu entered Gandānta, approaching the border between Leo and Cancer. This is a particularly delicate transition, as it involves a junction between the Water and Fire signs, where one nakshatra ends and another begins. In these positions, Ketu will also encounter Jupiter and Mars.

The term Gandānta It refers to the knot at the end of something. In astrological interpretation, these regions represent thresholds where different qualities of nature meet, creating conditions that may call for a profound transformation.

Ketu already possesses a separative nature. It is associated with renunciation, liberation, the distant past, and the deep impressions that continue to influence us. When it enters Gandānta, we can symbolically imagine an ancient knot being tugged at and slowly beginning to unravel.

But when a knot comes undone, what was held back can emerge. And this can apply just as much to our individual lives as it can—when viewed collectively—to historical and social tensions that have not yet been resolved.

There is, however, another aspect to consider: Ketu moves very slowly. We should not think of Gandānta as an event that is over in a single day. This transition spans a significant period, during which Ketu will also meet Jupiter and Mars before entering sidereal Cancer on November 25.

During the same period, Jupiter is completing its transit through Cancer, the sign of its exaltation. Since October 8, it too has crossed the Gandānta, and on October 27, it entered the Rāśi Sandhi, preparing for its entry into Leo on October 31. This is therefore a Jupiter that, despite coming from a position of great dignity, finds itself crossing a threshold. The Rāśi Sandhi is an important moment of great instability for Jupiter, and since it is the planet of the ether that holds everything together, it can easily create rifts and tensions within groups and between people.

Jupiter represents the Guru, wisdom, and dharma. Its strength lies not only in possessing knowledge, but in the ability to apply it at the right moment. And it is precisely this principle that will be called upon to confront Ketu and Mars in the early degrees of Leo. With each of these planets, Jupiter will form a very unique combination that is worth studying.

Maghā, the Pitṛas, and the Throne: Who Is Truly Worthy to Rule?

On October 31, Jupiter will enter sidereal Leo, in the nakshatra Maghā, where Ketu is located. Both are in Gaṇḍānta. On November 12, the two Grahas will reach exact conjunction. On the same day, November 12, Mars will also enter Leo, meeting Ketu on November 14 and Jupiter on November 16. All three in Gaṇḍānta!

Maghā is the tenth nakshatra, also ruled by Ketu and associated with the Pitṛ, the ancestors. Its symbol is the royal seat, the throne. It evokes succession, inheritance, nobility, the memory of those who came before us, and our relationship with the authority we have received.

A king is not born out of nowhere. He is entrusted with a position, a kingdom, a history, and a responsibility. The throne existed before him and should continue to exist after him. It is not merely a personal privilege, but a role that transcends the individual who temporarily occupies it.

And here is a particularly significant astrological correspondence: Jupiter, Mars, and Ketu will meet in Maghā in a Gaṇḍānta position just as the Sun—ruler of Leo and signifier of authority—is debilitated in Libra.

Here we can see why we began talking about the Sun. On the one hand, we have the throne, the ancestors, the continuity of power, and the memory of generations. On the other, the solar principle of authority, which is undergoing a period of weakness. We can interpret this configuration as a question about the legitimacy of power: does the one who occupies the throne still remember from whom they received their authority, and for what purpose should they exercise it?

In Vedic thought, the ruler should be a guardian of dharma. His task is not simply to impose his own will, but to maintain order, administer justice, and protect the community. Not only that, but he should lead by example and live at the forefront of his kingdom. When a ruler begins to identify completely with the throne or his seat of power, he may forget that that position was entrusted to him for a responsibility that transcends him—and not merely to enjoy the benefits he has obtained.

Power can then become like a drug—something to be clung to at all costs, even when that means betraying the principles that were supposed to legitimize it.

Maghā invites us to remember that not everything we inherit deserves to be preserved unchanged. Some legacies must be preserved; others must be understood, corrected, and transformed. A tradition remains alive when it is capable of conveying its meaning, not when it demands obedience simply because it is ancient.

And it is precisely in this Nakṣatra that we will encounter the Yoga Guru-paramparā.

Jupiter and Ketu: Guru-parampara Yoga and the Return to Ancient Knowledge

In the astrological tradition I follow, the conjunction of Jupiter and Ketu is interpreted as Guru-parampara Yoga, a combination that evokes the connection to the spiritual lineage of the masters and to the ancient knowledge preserved through the generations.

Jupiter represents the Guru, dharma, and discernment. Ketu is associated with the distant past, the renunciation of material identifications, and the possibility of accessing knowledge that transcends our immediate experience. Its position in Maghā connects us to the Pitṛ, the ancestors, and to the principle of succession.

When these three meanings come together, we can recognize an invitation to rediscover our deepest roots.

Each of us receives a legacy through both our paternal and maternal lines. But when we enter into an authentic spiritual tradition, we can also connect to a third line—that of our teachers, the teachers of our teachers, and all those who have preserved this knowledge before us. It is the guru-parampara, a lineage of spiritual ancestors. People who have passed down knowledge from the beginning of the cosmos to the present, passing it from one person to the next.

On a global scale, this development could be accompanied by a renewed interest in ancient civilizations, wisdom traditions, traditional sciences, forgotten texts, and the reconstruction of historical events that are still little known. Documents, testimonies, or research might emerge that could broaden our understanding of the past and the origin of humankind on Earth, leading us to reconsider some long-established interpretations.

I wonder if, during this very period, we might also see new information regarding UAPs, further document releases, statements from whistleblowers, or experiences that encourage humanity to adopt a broader view of the universe.

Not because Guru-parampara Yoga proves or suggests the existence of extraterrestrial civilizations or secret government programs, but because its symbolism invites us to confront a form of knowledge that transcends the limits of what we thought we knew.

In the texts of ancient Vedic culture, we find on every page the memory of a civilization that was in close contact with the harmony of the universe. Vedic cosmology presents us with an extraordinarily vast universe, populated by different categories of beings and multiple planetary systems. For millennia, the spiritual tradition has invited us not to reduce the entirety of reality to the human experience on Earth.

True knowledge should not confine us to a narrow belief. It should make us better able to listen, observe, and understand who we truly are.

Mars and Ketu: Piśāca Yoga and Accumulated Anger

A few days after the conjunction of Jupiter and Ketu, we will see a very different configuration. On November 5, Mars will enter Gandānta, gradually leaving Cancer, its sign of debilitation. On November 12, it will enter Leo—also in the nakshatra Maghā—to reach exact conjunction with Ketu on November 14. As we have mentioned, both planets are in Gandānta.

In the astrological tradition I follow, the association between Mars and Ketu is linked to the Piśāca Yoga, a configuration that can give rise to aggressive forces that are difficult to control, sudden outbursts, and repressed anger.

Mars represents courage, strength, action, and the ability to defend oneself. Ketu separates, severs, and can cause what has long remained hidden to be suddenly revealed. When they meet, Mars’s power can manifest without the usual guidance of discernment, especially if there are pre-existing tensions.

I think about what has happened in recent years. The restrictions during the pandemic, health-related fears, the economic hardships caused by the crises, the fear of new wars, and the growing discontent with institutions have left different and profound marks on people. Not everyone has experienced these events in the same way, but for some, they have represented periods of intense frustration, helplessness, and loss of trust. I would call them genuine traumas.

Anger that finds no outlet for conscious expression does not necessarily disappear. On the contrary, it can build up and remain just beneath the surface until something provides an opportunity for it to surface. Sometimes even a seemingly minor incident is enough to trigger a reaction that is much more intense than expected, because that reaction contains tensions that date back much further.

In a world astrology reading, the conjunction between Mars and Ketu can serve as a symbol of this process as it manifests in the collective unconscious. This does not mean that we will necessarily witness new outbreaks of violence or uprisings—even though the martial energy will be strong—but it serves above all as a reminder not to let frustration become the primary guide for our actions.

The closest phase of the conjunction will be relatively brief. However, the collective issues that we can symbolically associate with this transit do not arise or disappear with it.

And there’s another important detail: as Mars conjuncts Ketu, it also enters into a planetary clash with Jupiter. And this adds even more excitement to the moment.

The Graha Yuddha Between Mars and Jupiter: Can Strength Heed Wisdom?

From November 13 to 19, Mars and Jupiter will be involved in a Graha Yuddha, a global struggle caused by their extreme longitudinal proximity. The exact conjunction will occur on November 16, still within the Nakṣatra Maghā. This is a moment to observe carefully.

Graha Yuddha is an astrological condition that is also studied in the Saṁhitā, the branch of Jyotiṣa devoted, among other things, to collective phenomena. Varāhamihira discusses this in the Bṛhat Saṁhitā, linking the conditions of the planets to the events in the kingdoms and the lives of their rulers.

From a symbolic perspective, the comparison between Mars and Jupiter is particularly significant. Mars represents action, strength, and the ability to take action. Jupiter represents wisdom, dharma, and the ability to recognize what is right. When these two planets enter into a Graha Yuddha, we can reflect on the relationship between the will to act and the need to understand.

Is strength guided by knowledge? Or does it try to impose itself on knowledge? And can wisdom be translated into action, or does it remain an ideal that fails to change reality?

It is interesting to note that on November 16, the Sun will enter Scorpio, while Mars will be in Leo. This will form a *Parivartana* between the Sun and Mars, which is set to last until December 16. The Sun will occupy a sign ruled by Mars, and Mars will occupy the sign ruled by the Sun.

This shift introduces a new relationship between authority and the power of action. The Sun will emerge from its debilitated state, and Mars will by then have left its weakened position in Cancer. This does not automatically mean that conflicts will be resolved or that institutions will become more stable, but it does indicate a significant shift in the way these energies interact. Authority figures may take charge of the situation and turn their weakness around by using Mars to break free from it. Mars represents active action, law enforcement involvement, and control.

Just as strength and wisdom pass through Graha Yuddha, authority and action enter into a reciprocal exchange of signs. It is a configuration that invites us to observe how the available energies will be used: Will Mars be used to reinforce divisions, or to build a more just order?

What choice will governments, institutions, or individuals make? But the most important question is: what choice do we intend to make?

November 25: Rāhu and Ketu Change Signs

Another key transition will occur on November 25, when Rāhu enters sidereal Capricorn and Ketu enters Cancer. This is likely the most important transition of the year.

The movement of the nodes is particularly significant because it occurs slowly and alters the symbolic axis along which they operate for more than a year and a half. Rāhu tends to amplify desire, ambition, and the pursuit of experiences wherever it is located. Ketu, on the other hand, tends toward separation, introspection, and a reevaluation of one’s identifications.

The new Cancer-Capricorn axis is particularly interesting given the historical moment we are currently experiencing. Capricorn is associated with structures, organizations, hierarchies, responsibilities, and the material systems that underpin society. Cancer represents home, family, roots, security, and the need to belong.

We could interpret this transition as a clash between power structures and people’s basic needs—between what institutions demand of citizens and what citizens demand of institutions.

Ketu in Cancer may prompt a profound reexamination of our roots and the way we seek security. Rāhu in Capricorn may intensify our relationship with organized structures, ambitions, and collective responsibilities, leading us to question how they function.

It is a long transit that warrants a separate, in-depth analysis. For now, it seems significant to me that the shift in the nodes occurs after several weeks during which Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Jupiter, and Mars have already highlighted—through various aspects—the relationship between authority, security, desire, freedom, and responsibility.

The true vote: the one we cast through our conscience

I would like to conclude with a thought that I consider essential.

When we look at the world, we run the risk of convincing ourselves that there is nothing we can do. Governments make decisions, large economic organizations influence those decisions, wars continue, and ordinary people seem to have little power to change the course of events.

From time to time, we are asked to vote—whether by choosing a representative or expressing our views through a referendum. These are tools that can have real value, but we must also ask ourselves whether our freedom can truly be limited to choosing among alternatives that have already been defined within a system.

Participating in an election does not necessarily mean endorsing every aspect of existing institutions, just as not participating does not automatically bring about change. But the question remains: if we want a profoundly different world, can we limit ourselves to acting only within the spaces that others have set aside for us?

If we want to change something, we must be willing to change the way we live as well.

We cannot hope for a society that is less dependent on consumption while continuing to unwittingly fuel all of our own addictions. We cannot hope for more authentic relationships without changing the way we listen to and treat others. We cannot hope for a more just society without taking on at least some of the responsibility for building it.

How could real change happen if everything were to remain exactly the same?

That would be a contradiction.

And here we return to Saṁkhyā Yoga. Kedāra invites us to rediscover our connection to the earth and to what truly sustains life. Pāśa asks us to recognize the ties that bind us, even when they have become so familiar that they no longer bother us. Dāma reminds us of the value of giving and sharing. It’s not enough to simply desire a new way of life—we must begin to cultivate it.

In the Vedic view, the universe is not merely a material structure devoid of consciousness. There are cosmic administrators, the Devas, and at the heart of every living being resides the Paramātmā, the Divine that accompanies and observes our journey.

The Bhagavad-gītā 13.23 describes the Lord as the witness, the one who observes, permits, and sustains. And in verse 18.61, Kṛṣṇa states that the Supreme Lord resides in the heart of all living beings.

I like to think that, alongside the votes we cast in society, there is also a sort of Cosmic Viewer Voting. An inner vote that we continually express through our intentions, desires, choices, and actions. Not a mechanical system through which we claim to know or control the divine will, but a metaphor to remind us that nothing we cultivate in our consciousness is without meaning.

Every time we recognize an injustice and decide not to perpetuate it, we are expressing a stance. Every time we give up behavior that harms others, we are changing our contribution to the world. Every time we choose truth, compassion, and responsibility, we are helping to build a different reality.

But we can't stop at mere intention. An inner resolution gains strength when it becomes action.

You don’t have to wait until you hold an important position to get started. We can change the way we consume, communicate, work, choose our relationships, and use our time. We can become better informed, support those seeking justice, take care of our local communities, and learn to recognize the needs of others.

We can also say no. No to what we recognize as unjust, to violence, to manipulation, and to the idea that our role is merely to passively accept whatever is decided.

But we must learn to say no without letting anger dictate our lives.

Kārtika: the power that accepts being bound by Love

And here we are again in the month of Kārtika.

I find it remarkable that just as we observe a world so focused on power, authority, and conflict, the spiritual tradition invites us to meditate on the story of Dāmodara.

In Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 10.9, Mother Yaśodā tries to tie up the infant Kṛṣṇa with a rope. Each time the rope proves to be too short, until Kṛṣṇa, seeing his mother’s effort and love, agrees to let her tie him up.

He who cannot be confined by the entire universe allows himself to be won over by Love.

Let’s consider how different this image is from the concept of power we usually encounter. In the material world, power is often associated with the ability to possess, command, control, and defend one’s position. Kṛṣṇa, on the other hand, embodies a greatness that has no need to dominate.

On November 10, we will also celebrate Govardhana Pūjā. In this story, Indra, whose pride has been wounded, unleashes a devastating storm against the inhabitants of Vraja. Kṛṣṇa responds by lifting Govardhana and offering protection to the entire community.

Indra possesses cosmic authority, but at that moment he uses it in a way that is driven by pride. Kṛṣṇa shows him that true power must be used to protect, not to punish those who challenge our prestige.

This is a lesson that applies to those in positions of authority, but also to each and every one of us. It applies to families, teachers, spiritual leaders, communities, and anyone who has been entrusted with a responsibility toward others.

In the Bhagavad-gītā 16.21, Kṛṣṇa speaks of three gates that lead to one’s own destruction: kāma, uncontrolled desire; krodha, anger; and lobha, greed. These are forces we easily recognize when we observe abuses of power, but the Gītā invites us to look for them within ourselves as well.

Can we stand up to greed without letting it control us? Can we seek justice without fueling hatred? Can we acknowledge the pain of others without turning it into yet another source of division?

The November sky, with Mercury and Venus in retrograde, Ketu’s Gandānta, the Guru-paramparā Yoga, the Piśāca Yoga, and the Graha Yuddha between Mars and Jupiter, presents us with a series of configurations that raise precisely these questions. But Jyotiṣa should not turn us into fearful spectators of a predetermined fate. It should help us observe the times we are living in more closely and recognize the responsibility we have in how we navigate them.

During Kārtika, we light a lamp for Dāmodara. This year, I’d like that lamp to also symbolize a conscious choice.

The choice not to live in fear, not to let anger make decisions for us, not to blindly surrender our conscience to an authority, but to cultivate knowledge, discernment, and love.

The world we live in is not separate from who we are and what we do. Our daily choices contribute, in their own small way, to keeping it as it is or transforming it.

If we want real change, we can't expect everything to change without being willing to lift a finger.

Let us, then, arm ourselves with conscience, love, and brotherhood. We need a strength capable of protecting, not destroying; knowledge capable of uniting, not dividing; and the courage necessary to let go of the attachments that prevent us from living according to our values.

Let's start with our home, our relationships, our connection to Mother Earth, and the small decisions we make every day.

Because a better world must not remain merely a hope for the future.

We can start building a little paradise today, for ourselves and for others.

I wish you all a blessed month of Kārtika.