As the Sun nears the end of its annual trek through Taurus, the zodiacās Venusian comfort-seeker, Iāve been thinking ahead to Gemini season. Itās partly for logistical reasons. My solar return is next Wednesday, May 24; my girlfriend, a fellow Gemini Sun, turns 30 in early June. This time of year is predictably hectic, yet its frenzied pace seems to sneak up on me every time.
Gemini energy, too, is surprising. Or perhaps āevasiveā is a better word. Like clockwork, whenever I think Iāve got this sign figured out, I learn or experience something that complicates my understanding. It refuses containment, slipping through my fingers likeā¦well, air.
And I couldnāt help but wonder, what if thatās the whole point?
Iām beginning to think that malleability ā of thought, of form ā is one of the great lessons Gemini can teach us. Geminis have a profound capacity for nuance, for we know that our world is comprised of spectrums, not binaries. Rigid categories are just too simplistic to capture the multitudes and contradictions of the human condition.
Join me, if you will, for an exploration of the third sign of the zodiac. Iām a 12th House Gemini Sun, so Iāve got a lot of thoughts.
Gemini energy is evasive, but it is not enigmatic. This air sign is ruled by Mercury, the fast-moving planet of learning, communication, and transportation. We see that rulership reflected in Geminisā characteristic curiosity, quick wit, and sociability.
In my old newsroom at Logo, I was one of three Geminis on a four-person team. I know more Geminis who work in journalism than I can count. Weāre drawn to this profession because it rewards nosiness inquisitiveness and the gift of gab, two of our defining traits.
Which brings me to my next point: Geminis love to talk. Sometimes we just love to hear ourselves talk, which I can bravely say as a Gemini myself. And when we arenāt embellishing a personal anecdote for the sake of The Storyā¢ļø or telling a white lie so well that it eventually becomes our truth, we tend to be open books. Not vulnerable, per se, but Geminis usually err on the side of over-sharing. As my girlfriend and I often joke, weāre great at keeping secrets as long as theyāre not our own.

Gemini is one of the four mutable signs, whose astrological seasons correspond with the transitional phases between meteorological seasons. Its energy is inherently changeable, hence the fickleness and fear of commitment sometimes ascribed to Gems.
In traditional astrology, Mercury, our ruler, is considered androgynous. In my personal planetary devotion practice, I always imagine Mercury as nonbinary. The god Hermes, Mercuryās equivalent in the Greek pantheon, can move freely and fluidly between the human realm and the underworld. I have a running joke with my friends that all queer Geminis are vers. Itās not a hard-and-fast rule ā remember, Geminis canāt stand those ā but like any decent quip, it contains a kernel of truth.
And then thereās the corresponding symbol of The Twins. This imagery gives rise to the infamous ātwo-faced Geminiā stereotype, which I find personally and philosophically irksome.
Hereās the thing: Geminis do have multiple āfaces.ā In the words of illustrious Gemini poet Walt Whitman, I contain multitudes, and so do you. Part of being a functional adult who maintains mature relationships with others is knowing how to āread the room.ā Geminis are naturally good at adapting in social settings ā not to deceive or manipulate others, but to connect more easily. Itās reductive and inaccurate to write off this nimbleness as innately bad. It also leaves no room for nuance, Geminisā favorite word in the English language. And we love words, so thatās saying something.
Iām reminded of a beautiful conversation I had in 2022 with writer, organizer, and fellow Gemini Mimi Zhu, whose debut book Be Not Afraid of Love was published last August. (I profiled Mimi for them., if youāre curious.) We spoke at length about the concept of āboth/and,ā a cognitive reframing tool Mimi learned about in therapy as an alternative to black-and-white thinking.
Both/and creates space for complexity and contradiction. In their book, Mimi reflects on how they simultaneously missed their abusive ex-partner and seethed with rage over how badly they treated them. Contrary to what our category-obsessed world wants us to believe, multiple truths can coexist.
Geminis embody this principle. We donāt shy away from nuance; we embrace it, and weāre mentally flexible enough to reevaluate our conclusions when new information comes to light. I view this as a superpower in a world where punitive, all-or-nothing perspectives reign supreme.
To that end, our truth(s) can and will evolve over time. Each of us is a living, breathing being navigating an equally dynamic world. Change is the pretty much lifeās only guarantee ā other than death, which is Scorpio territory. I donāt think itās a coincidence that Geminis and Scorps are two of the most hated zodiac signs. Weāre avatars of deeply human inevitabilities most people would rather ignore.
Gemini season begins on May 21. In honor of this sign, I challenge you to recognize the areas of your life where āboth/andsā are present ā or where this tool could provide a helpful reframe. You might start by looking at the house where Gemini falls in your birth chart. If you have any prominent planets or placements in Gemini, consider those too.
The binary industrial complex doesnāt want you to know this, but you are allowed to contradict yourself. Youāre also free to change your mind. When you practice acknowledging your complexities, you expand your capacity for self-understanding and -compassion.
Recommended Resources:
The Astrology Podcastās episode about Gemini
The Astrology Podcastās Mercury deep dive
The Strology Showās Mercury primer featuring Gabe Rosas & Jason Kei
Any Gemini-related writing by Colin Bedell (@queercosmos)
Be Not Afraid of Love by Mimi Zhu