The year of the Fire Horse has barely begun, according to Chinese astrology, and already whispers circulate of potential upheaval – a positive one, marked by freedom, optimism, and courage. While the prospect is welcomed, the reality hasn’t quite galloped into view. “A seahorse,” a friend observed, though she attributed the sluggishness to a few raindrops encountered outdoors, a matter of perspective, she added. The gallop, she believes, will come.
In many circles, astrology is met with skepticism, even embarrassment – dismissed as fanciful speculation about planets, elements, and transitions. Yet, in an age increasingly defined by the perceived inevitability of artificial intelligence, a touch of faith in the unpredictable can feel surprisingly empowering. If the narrative is that AI will assume control, even of itself, then responsibility itself becomes diffused. No one can be held accountable when events unfold according to an algorithmic logic, when human thought is outsourced. In contrast, a little courage, attributed to the Fire Horse, seems harmless enough.
Each decade seems to have its own flirtation with nihilism. It’s a phase often understood more clearly in retrospect. When a sense of meaninglessness prevails, it can paradoxically unleash a surge of energy, and celebration. In the 1980s, the presence of Pershing II missiles in Germany was enough to fuel a particular brand of defiant revelry – a dark aesthetic of Cola-Rot and tequila slammers soundtracked by The Cure and Depeche Mode. Even the threat of acid rain provided ample fodder for existential angst. But then came the Walkman, and the future suddenly felt vibrant, promising, and full of hope.
A similar moment of unexpected lightness is needed now, and it will arrive. It won’t necessarily be heralded, but it will be felt. The recent Olympic Games offered a glimpse of this phenomenon. Despite the relentless pursuit of perfection and the inevitable criticisms, it was the human stories that resonated most deeply – stories that touched and amused. Many simply allowed themselves to be swept up in the spectacle. The sudden proliferation of curling enthusiasts is a testament to this willingness to engage, to find joy in the unexpected.
This search for meaning, for something beyond the purely rational, isn’t new. From the 1970s onward, astrology experienced a digital renaissance with the development of software capable of generating astrological charts. Websites like Susan Miller’s Astrology Zone and Astrodienst (astro.com) became popular destinations for those seeking cosmic guidance. As Banu Guler, CEO of the astrology app Co-Star, points out, accessing information about your astrological placements isn’t the same as practicing spirituality. “You might have a spiritual experience as a result of the reading, but they’re not giving you spirituality—that’s not what the exchange is,” she said. The exchange is new information, a framework for evaluating emotions in the present moment.
The current moment, however, feels different. We are witnessing a “spiritual revolution,” with access to practices like astrology proliferating across the internet, often intertwined with artificial intelligence. This isn’t simply a matter of convenience or accessibility; it reflects a deeper yearning for connection and meaning in a world increasingly dominated by algorithms and data. The anxieties surrounding AI – the fear of losing control, of having our thoughts and decisions outsourced – may be driving a renewed interest in systems that offer a sense of agency, even if that agency is perceived rather than real.
The philosopher Jacob Neumann, writing in 2014, questioned the inherent goodness of hope, suggesting it could be a form of “moral cowardice” that allows us to escape reality and prolong suffering. He referenced the Greek myth of Prometheus, who gifted humanity with fire and, crucially, “blind hopes.” This stands in contrast to the Christian emphasis on faith, love, and hope, where hope is seen as a virtue, a steadfast belief in salvation. The question, then, is whether our current embrace of spirituality – whether through astrology, AI-powered tarot readings, or other practices – is a genuine search for meaning or simply a way to avoid confronting the uncertainties of the modern world.
Perhaps it is both. Perhaps the desire for meaning and the need to cope with anxiety are not mutually exclusive. The liberating power of “optimistic nihilism” – the acceptance of meaninglessness coupled with a commitment to finding joy and purpose in the present moment – offers a potential path forward. Compassion, in this framework, isn’t merely a moral obligation but a natural consequence of recognizing the shared vulnerability of human existence.
As the year of the Fire Horse unfolds, it remains to be seen whether it will deliver on its promise of upheaval and renewal. But even if the gallop remains elusive, the simple act of seeking meaning, of embracing a little bit of hope, may be enough to navigate the uncertainties that lie ahead. The world, after all, is full of perspectives, and sometimes, a little bit of faith – even in a seahorse – is all we need.
