The Sturgeon Moon: Ancient Rhythms, Modern Reckonings, and a Little Cosmic Elbow Grease

By Leslii Stevens ERYT500, YACEP, Trauma Informed Yoga Teacher

(because the Moon doesn’t rise without a little attitude)

The Sturgeon Moon rises , armored, ancient, and luminous. Artwork by Leslii Stevens

Tonight, the sky gives us a front-row seat to something both ancient and absolutely current: the Sturgeon Moon, rising in all its luminous glory on August 8th, yep, that’s 8/8, also known in some woo-woo circles as the Lion’s Gate Portal. But hang tight, we’re not diving headfirst into astrology soup without a filter. We're going raw, real, and rooted in both history and how this all might hit you in the nervous system, gut, and soul tonight.

This ain’t just a moon. It’s a moment.

Named after the ancient sturgeon fish — powerful, grounded, and rising from the deep.

So What the Hell Is the Sturgeon Moon?

The Sturgeon Moon is the traditional name for the full moon that rises in August, and it got its gritty name from the giant sturgeon fish that used to be caught in abundance in the Great Lakes and Lake Champlain during this time of year. We’re talking prehistoric, armored, bottom-feeding beasts, some up to 7 feet long and older than your grandma’s favorite Fleetwood Mac vinyl.

The name comes from Algonquin and other Native American tribes, and it speaks to what was happening in nature, because our ancestors, unlike most of us, actually paid attention to what was going on in the world around them instead of just what was glowing on a screen.

This full moon was a signal: the time to hunt, harvest, prepare, shift. The sturgeon was survival. Food. Strength. Grit. And so is this moon.

Cosmic Vibes: Not Just Woo-Woo

Now before we glaze over and toss this in the “hippie nonsense” bin, let’s break it down. A full moon pulls tides, and you're about 60% water. You don't need a NASA lab coat to know that if the moon messes with oceans, it sure as hell does something to your insides.

This year’s Sturgeon Moon lands in Aquarius — the rebel truth-teller of the zodiac.

The Sturgeon Moon of 2025 is riding in with a fire-in-the-gut kind of energy. It’s in the zodiac sign of Aquarius, an air sign that’s about the collective, the rebellion, the truth-teller, the misfit healer. Aquarius doesn’t do small talk. It rips the veil off.

Combine that with 8/8, known in numerology and some spiritual traditions as the Lion’s Gate Portal a supposed opening for higher consciousness, growth, courage, and shaking off the dust from every damn thing you’ve outgrown. Even if you think that's all symbolic fluff, it still holds weight. August is harvest season. Whatever you planted earlier this year? Now’s the time to see what’s growing and what needs to be ripped out, root and all.

What the Sturgeon Moon Is Trying to Say (If You’re Listening)

This moon is not whispering. It’s roaring underwater, like something ancient, heavy, and wild waking up in your bones. And it might just be saying:

"Stop pretending you're fine." Let the feelings come up. You’re not broken for needing space or rest. You're healing, not hustling.

"You already know what’s not working." Whether it’s a job, a relationship, a belief system, or just the way you're talking to yourself this is the time to gut it like a fish and rebuild something stronger.

"You’re allowed to be both fierce and soft." That’s not a contradiction. That’s nature.

So What Do You Do With All This Moon Madness?

You don’t need to bathe in moon water naked under the stars (unless you want to, no judgment). But here’s how a real human being can work with this moon in a way that doesn’t feel like a Pinterest ritual gone sideways:

1. Move Your Body—Like, Really Move It

Not just a gentle toe stretch. I mean get into your joints. Roll your shoulders like you’re getting rid of bad ex energy. Do some resistance band work or a gritty round of YogaKick. Stretch your hamstrings until you find that one spot that makes you curse and breathe through it. Get your synovial fluid pumping like the Sturgeon swimming upstream. That’s yoga. That’s therapy. That’s sacred.

2. Get Quiet (or Loud)

Meditate. Or scream into a pillow. Or sing with the windows down. Do whatever you need to do to let what’s inside come out, even for five minutes. The moon doesn’t hold back, why the hell should you?

Let your body process what your mind’s been carrying. Artwork by Leslii Stevens

3. Take Inventory

Ask yourself: What are you dragging around that needs to go? What are you clinging to that’s just bones now? This moon is your permission slip to drop the act and call yourself back home.

4. Create Something


Write. Dance. Cook. Rearrange your damn closet. Don’t let this energy get stuck. Give it a place to go.

Write it down. Let it out. Make room for what’s next.

The Yogi Perspective (Hold the Clichés)

In yoga, we work with cycles of breath, of movement, of life and death and rebirth. The Sturgeon Moon is a reminder that your body knows when it’s time to shift. You just have to listen. We talk about the vagus nerve, right? That highway between your brain and body that regulates your whole damn life? This moon is like an electric shock to your vagus nerve, begging you to rest, reset, and reclaim.

The Sturgeon Moon teaches us this: Be ancient. Be wise. Be willing to stir the mud.

You don’t have to be calm. You just have to be present.

Final Thought: Rock and Moonroll

This isn’t a Hallmark card kind of moon. This is a Velvet Underground B-side, a midnight journal entry, a salt bath with lavender and your own tears, a reminder that you were never meant to just cope, you were meant to rise.

So go out tonight. Look up. Feel it. Let it undo you a little.

Because maybe that’s exactly what the Sturgeon Moon came for.

You don’t need to be lighter. You just need to be free.