Pay Attention
Hello beautiful humans,
Virgo season is upon us.
I had this thought the other day while walking (which, if you’ve been here for a while, you know is often how these letters begin): how interesting is it that Virgo season falls right at this natural point of coming back?
Summer begins to wind down. School starts again. The freedom and play of summer slowly start making their way back toward schedules, routines, goals, and a little more structure.
And I had one of those chicken-or-the-egg thoughts: did we decide this was the time of year to begin again, or have we always been responding to the energy that is already around us?
Either way, it feels very Virgo.
There is something about this time of year that naturally asks us to recollect ourselves. To look around at what summer gave us, what we enjoyed, what maybe got a little lost along the way, and what we want to carry with us into the seasons ahead.
In some ways, it is a harvest.
We’ve played. We’ve grown. We’ve experienced.
Now, what are we gathering?
What are we leaving behind?
What actually nourished us enough that we want to bring it with us?
Welcome to Virgo Season (August 22 - Septemer 22)
Virgo is an Earth sign, but I think there is so much more to its groundedness than simply being organized, practical, or having a perfectly color-coded calendar.
Virgo pays attention.
It notices.
It notices when something feels a little off. It notices the routine that has fallen away. It notices the thing that could work a little better. It notices what the body is saying and asks us to actually do something with that information. And this is where I think we can misunderstand Virgo energy.
We hear refinement and immediately think: How can I be better?
But Virgo is not always asking us to be better. Sometimes it is asking us to discern what is needed.
There’s a difference.
We just moved through Leo season, where there was this invitation back into expression, play, creativity, and the fullness of self. That feeling of: This is me. This is what wants to come through me.
And then Virgo walks in and says: Okay. What are we going to do with that information? How are we going to tend to it?
Maybe you took the dance class and remembered how much you love to dance.
Beautiful.
But does dancing now disappear from your life for another year?
I think we do this all the time.. We reconnect to something that makes us feel alive and think, Oh my god, I need more of this. And then... we don't do it again. Virgo is the part that says, Okay, so let's actually do it more often. It asks us how we create the structures and choices that allow the things we discovered about ourselves to actually become part of our lives. Not just a moment of connection.
A practice.
Collective Energy
I keep coming back to four different pieces of Virgo energy: Audit. Discernment. Refinement. Perfectionism.
Which, I know, is perhaps the most Virgo way possible to explain Virgo—put it into four neat little categories and suddenly everything makes sense. But I think separating them actually matters.
An audit asks: What is actually happening? No judgment. No fixing. Just pay attention.
How am I sleeping?
How am I nourishing myself?
How does my body feel?
What is working?
What isn't?
Where is my energy going?
Then comes discernment: What does this information tell me that I actually need?
And only then do we move toward refinement: What could I adjust to better support myself?
This is where Virgo can be so deeply caring. There is a reason Virgo is associated with service. Virgo sees what is needed. It sees where something could be supported, tended to, cared for, made a little easier. But there is a shadow here, too. Because eventually refinement can turn into: Better. Better. Better. One more tweak. One more improvement. Let me just smooth this one little edge... Oh wait, now I found six more edges. And suddenly, the goalpost has moved again. That is where refinement slips into perfectionism. The analytical mind takes over and convinces us that if we just improve one more part, make it a little shinier, a little smoother, a little more just so, then it will finally be enough.
Except Virgo can sometimes have a hard time finding the off button. Because what is perfect? There isn't actually a finish line for that. And one of Virgo's greatest lessons is developing enough discernment to know when something needs our attention—and when something is already good as is.
Living in the Energy
I can feel this one playing out in my own life right now. As Soul Lumina evolves, I've been in a pretty big yes energy.
Yes to new ideas. Yes to exploring. Yes to allowing my work to become more embodied, more somatic, more connected to group work and yogic principles. Yes to letting myself imagine what I actually want this space and my work to become. And there has been so much beauty in that.
But if I'm being truthful, there has also been some scatteredness. At some point, all of those yeses need somewhere to live. Apparently, yes to everything and I'll figure out the details later is not actually a system. Who knew?
That has been my own Virgo invitation lately: not to criticize what I've been doing, but to audit it.
What is working?
What isn't?
What actually deserves my energy?
Where do I need more consistency?
What am I trying to build?
And what structure would actually support me in building it?
I know in my own body that I don't feel as grounded when I have no sense of self-direction. Some structure helps me feel connected to myself. Not structure because someone else told me this is the perfect morning routine or the perfect system. Structure that works for me.
That's an important distinction.
Virgo doesn't have to mean forcing ourselves into someone else's version of discipline. It can mean paying close enough attention to ourselves that we begin to understand the conditions under which we actually feel well.
Our body gives us information all day long.
I'm tired.
I'm overstimulated.
I haven't moved.
I need more rest.
I miss creating.
I feel better when I do this consistently.
The question becomes: Am I listening?
Because we often know much more than we give ourselves credit for. And sometimes we're incredibly good at giving that wisdom to everyone else. I experience this often. My job is to sit with people in their humanness, and sometimes it can feel like I am saying all the right things, walking the walk, talking the talk, giving all this beautiful wisdom away. Then there are plenty of times when I give myself a reality check after a session and say, “Well, damn, Shauna, you had so much to say today. Why don’t you start saying some of those things to yourself again?” A little humbling. But noted..
When I notice that I’ve slipped into giving everyone else the wisdom I’m not quite offering myself, I know it’s time to turn some of that care back inward.
Virgo can be the fixer, the helper, the advisor, the organizer—the person who sees what everybody else needs.
But underneath that is an important question:
If I am not helping, fixing, or contributing, do I still believe I am worthy?
Helping others is beautiful. Being in service to others is beautiful.
But not when we have abandoned ourselves in the process. The higher expression of service isn't telling everyone else what they should be doing. It's embodying what we know. Modeling our values rather than dictating them. Giving ourselves some of the care, thought, attention, and wisdom we're so willing to give away.
Practical Application
So, naturally, in true Virgo fashion, I am going to give you a list. Of course I am. Start with the audit. Not the critique.
The audit.
Ask yourself:
What is actually working for me right now?
What isn't?
What has my body been communicating lately?
What do I want to carry forward from this last season?
What am I ready to leave behind?
Where am I giving my energy simply because I think I should?
What actually needs refinement—and what might already be good enough?
What is one structure or routine that would genuinely support me right now?
And while we're here, I heard something this weekend that I loved. A family member shared that in their house, "should" is basically a swear word. We don't say, I should. Because what does that actually mean?
Instead: I want to. I will. I won't.
I loved that.
Immediately I thought, Yep. Keeping that one. And naturally, now I'm giving it to all of you.
Very Virgo of me.
Because how often are we should-ing ourselves?
I should be working out more.
I should have figured this out already.
I should be further along.
I should be better at this.
And how often are we should-ing other people?
Virgo season gives us an opportunity to notice the should without immediately obeying it.
Is this something I actually want?
Is this something I am choosing?
Is this something my body, my life, my values are telling me I need?
Or am I trying to meet an invisible standard that keeps moving every time I get close?
Closing Thoughts:
Virgo season does not have to become another self-improvement project.
Maybe it is much simpler than that.
Pay attention.
Notice what your life is showing you.
Notice what your body is telling you.
Notice what is nourishing you and what is draining you.
Gather what you want to carry forward.
Create structures that help you stay connected to it.
Refine what genuinely needs refining.
And then—perhaps the hardest part—know when to put the pencil down.
Not everything needs another edit.
Not everything needs to become better.
Not everything needs fixing.
Sometimes the most discerning thing we can do is recognize that we have tended to something enough and allow it to be complete. There will always be another edge we could smooth. Another habit we could optimize. Another version of ourselves we could chase. But the work is learning to feel when refinement is still an act of care—and when it has quietly become a rejection of what already is.
So this Virgo season, perhaps the invitation isn't: How can I become better? Maybe it's: What needs my care?
And can I trust myself enough to know when I've given it enough..
Until next time, may you move with grace, breathe with intention, and walk in balance.
Let the soul be in harmony with the truth.