🌖 Tired of astrology that feels like a guessing game?

🪩 Ever wonder why your chart still doesn’t make sense, even after dozens of YouTube videos?

🧿 Feel like horoscopes are either too vague or weirdly absolute?

→ Been told to “trust the process” without anyone showing you how?

You’re not alone.
And you’re not wrong.

Because astrology doesn’t truly work until it becomes personal.

Until you stop reading it like a map of your fate—and start relating to it like a mirror. How To Be a Whale isn’t content, it’s connection.

🌑 How To Be a Whale is where astrology comes home to your body, your timing, your truth.

This newsletter isn’t about decoding the stars. It’s about coming back into relationship with yourself—through time, story, emotion, and pattern.

This is for you if you want to:

• Make sense of what life is asking from you right now

• Work with your emotions instead of bypassing them

• Find language for the invisible things shaping your days

• Understand the deeper pattern beneath your burnout, your longing, your stuckness

• Reclaim your rhythm—not someone else’s forecast

Astrology doesn’t hand you answers.
It helps you ask better questions—and remember what you already know.

🐋 What It Takes to Make This

How To Be A Whale is more than a newsletter. It’s a body of work. A rhythm. A relationship.

Each weekly forecast takes 2–5 hours to create—tracking the sky, listening for language, translating what’s cosmic into what’s personal. Not predictive, but participatory.

Each long-form essay takes 3–8 hours—often more. These pieces require deep emotional labor: writing, rewriting, researching, and holding the story with care. They don’t come from a content calendar. They come from lived experience.

Then there’s editing, formatting, publishing, and correspondence—another 2–3 hours each week.

There’s also the behind-the-scenes work: editing, formatting, creating visuals, responding to messages, and holding the space. In total, this work takes 10–15 hours a week—a part-time practice carried with full-time care.

The paid tier is $6/month or $75/year—about $1.15 per week. Less than a coffee. Less than a scroll. Less than the noise you pay to avoid.

You’re not just supporting more writing. You’re sustaining:

• A practice rooted in relationship, not performance

• A slower, deeper way of engaging with astrology

• A space where grief, longing, and becoming are allowed to exist without being fixed

• A writer and single parent keeping this labor alive through integrity and care

If How To Be A Whale steadies you, stirs you, or helps you return to yourself—consider becoming a paid subscriber.

It helps keep this space soft.
It helps keep it sovereign.
It helps keep it here.

🐋 Two ways to be here. Both are welcome.

This space is built on trust, not urgency. You get to move at your own rhythm.

🔓 Free Tier — The Shoreline

• 🌤 Astrology forecasts every Monday, written as invitations—not predictions

• 🐚 One full-length essay per month exploring the emotional undercurrents of change, loss, growth, and return

• 👀 Previews of paid content, so you can listen before you leap

There’s no pressure to read everything. No chat threads. No timeline to catch up.
Just rhythm, reflection, and room to breathe.

You don’t need to become fluent in symbols.
You need to feel seen.

🔒 Paid Tier — The Field of Devotion

This is where we move deeper—into practice, into presence, into daily relationship with what life is offering.

For as little as 0.96/c per week, you’ll receive:

• 🌕 Monthly deep dives into emotional and spiritual patterns
  (e.g., “How we learn to trust slowness when everything feels urgent”)

• 🌀 Writing prompts to help you speak to the parts of yourself that feel silent or scattered
  (e.g., “What part of you is asking to be chosen?” “What are you protecting by staying quiet?”)

• 💬 Optional community check-ins around big collective moments in Myst
  (e.g., “What’s breaking open for you this season?”)

• 🪞 Occasional voice notes with grounding reflections for real life
  (e.g., “When you’re in the in-between and nothing makes sense yet”)

This isn’t for astrology experts.
It’s for anyone learning to be with themselves, more honestly.

🐋 Why How To Be a Whale?

Because whales don’t rush.
They navigate by vibration.
They remember the shape of the ocean across generations.

To be a whale is to move through the deep with presence, to trust the currents even when they’re invisible, to sing the long song of your life without needing it to be loud. It’s a way of being that honors stillness over speed, inner knowing over external noise, and belonging over performance.

This space invites you to remember how to do that—to come back to your natural rhythm, and to the relational intelligence written into your chart and your body.

🕯 Why People Stay

Because this isn’t a feed. It’s a field.

Here, astrology meets you where you actually are—in grief, in court, in love, in uncertainty.
This isn’t about forecasting the future.
It’s about being in relationship with what’s here now.

You don’t need to “get better” at astrology.
You just need to feel less alone with it.

➡️ Start Reading

Subscribe for free to reconnect with your chart and your timing.
Or join the paid tier to move from interpretation to integration.

Your life is the lesson.
Your chart just helps you remember.

All my love and magic,
Jem Ember