Yin Water Rabbit Peers At the Moon

A stylized white rabbit beneath the moon

The Chinese calendar’s system of reckoning is not simply a way to mark time—it is a way to understand time. Each year, composed from the 10 Heavenly Stems and 12 Earthly Branches, offers a layered cosmological snapshot of the qi dynamics at play. And like any good map, it helps us navigate not just what is happening, but how it feels, and where it may be headed. The year we are emerging from—the Yáng Water Tiger (壬寅, rén yín)—was one of sudden shifts, bold actions, and pent-up energy finally finding a release. Tiger years are known for their intensity and passion, and this one lived up to its reputation, marked by both widespread agitation and bursts of hopeful forward motion. But as with any explosive phase, there is a cost: exhaustion, overextension, and, for many, a sense of being emotionally and physically stretched beyond their limits.

That is the soil into which the Yīn Water Rabbit (癸卯, guǐ mǎo) is about to arrive. If the Tiger year was a storm breaking open the sky, the Rabbit year is the mist that lingers after—the cooling, quieting, gathering back of attention and energy. It invites us to pull inward, to reflect, and to begin the slower work of integration. The tone shifts from the overt to the subtle, from decisive movement to careful discernment. Rather than continuing to push outward, we are now asked to tend the internal terrain stirred up by the chaos of the year before. The movement continues, but it does so softly, quietly, beneath the surface.

Hexagrams; Yì Jīng, and Other Esoterica

The Rabbit year is often associated with Hexagram 2 (坤, Kūn) and Hexagram 31 (咸, Xián). Kūn, known as "The Receptive," is composed entirely of yin lines. It represents yielding, softness, and the capacity to hold and nourish. It teaches us that responsiveness can be a form of strength, and that deep power often appears in gentle forms. Within the yin water context of the year, Kūn mirrors the quiet, encompassing fluidity of emotional insight and the work of internal transformation.

Hexagram 31, Xián, sometimes translated as "Influence" or "Wooing," speaks to the magnetism of gentle persuasion, the movement of one thing toward another through attraction, not force. It is about relationship, resonance, and the way soft movements can create real change. In the Yīn Water Rabbit year, these images help us frame the year not in terms of bold declarations, but in subtle shifts—the slow reweaving of relationships, the quiet adjustments of internal orientation, the power of suggestion rather than command.

The Rabbit is associated with Yīn Wood and the Liver system in Chinese medicine, but this year’s heavenly stem, guǐ (癸), overlays a water influence (the mother of wood) that can generate depth, mystery, and even a kind of ancestral echo. It is a year of flowing downward and inward. The water-rabbit pairing encourages us to engage with the unseen, the emotional, the buried and the liminal. It is also a Peach Blossom year in many Chinese astrological systems—a symbol associated with romance, allure, social dynamics, and at times, illusion. Attraction increases. But clarity can become harder to maintain.

Yin Water Rabbit Vibes

If we were to name the year in terms of feeling, it might be called "The Threshold." Not because something dramatic is erupting, but because it marks a space in between: a moment of careful transition. After the resource-gathering intensity of the Tiger and the structural endurance of the Ox, the Rabbit year asks us to step back and take stock. It's the quiet hallway between two rooms, the part of a conversation where you're not yet sure what to say next. The momentum hasn't stopped, but it has shifted tone, inviting us to pay closer attention to the small signs that tell us what’s ready to grow and what needs more time.

Rabbits are prey animals. They are sensitive, perceptive, and responsive. Their safety depends on their ability to detect subtle changes in environment and adjust course quickly. That is the tone of the year. The energy is sensitive and alert, but also easily overwhelmed. It is a year that rewards subtlety and caution. Bold moves may not be well-received. Softness and timing will matter.

The Yīn Water Rabbit brings a mood of nostalgia, emotionality, and complexity. It will be a year of undercurrents. Many people may find themselves revisiting past stories, old relationships, or unresolved emotions. There may be an unusual level of internal processing happening across communities. And like water wearing away stone, many of the year’s changes may be slow and persistent rather than sudden and obvious.

Planning, Decisions, and Health

Peach Blossoms in a Chinese-style painting

In practical terms, 2023 may not be a year for rapid expansion. Plans that require wide-scale infrastructure or quick adoption could falter. By contrast, small, flexible, iterative approaches are more likely to succeed. This is a year for tending, editing, and preparing. And also for rest. Yin Water is not about performance. It is about replenishment.

Decision-making in a Rabbit year benefits from intuition, but the emotional water influence can also make it harder to feel confident. Some may experience hesitation, second-guessing, or foggy thinking. These are not flaws in cognition; they reflect the qi environment. When the water is deep and the bottom isn’t visible, you take careful steps. That kind of discernment is the year’s real strength.

From a health perspective, the liver system may be particularly taxed. The liver governs the smooth flow of qi, and the yin water can dampen and constrain that movement. We might see more symptoms related to emotional stagnation, irritability, digestive distress, and fatigue. Gentle movement, warmth, and emotional processing will be important tools. The medicine of 2023 will not be about fixing things, but about holding space for recovery and reorientation.

People, Politics, and Passions

On the social and political stage, the Rabbit year is unlikely to bring the bombast of a Dragon or Tiger year, but it may expose tensions in quieter, more personal ways. Scandals, conflicts, and disagreements may revolve around feelings—who feels heard, who feels betrayed, who feels invisible. The qi is interpersonal, not institutional. The fault lines will be subtle, but they may run deep.

This may be a year where "soft power" shows its teeth. Influence could be wielded through framing, narrative, and emotional leverage. The Peach Blossom nature of the year may make public discourse more reactive and more performative. The desire to be liked, followed, or affirmed could shape decisions. And under it all, there may be a gnawing sense of unease—as if something vital is shifting out of sight, below the surface of ordinary conversation.

Culturally, it may be a year of beauty and anxiety. A year of resurgence in aesthetic values and a yearning for connection, but also of tension, grief, and psychic fatigue. The Rabbit year holds us in a kind of limbo—not quite here, not quite there. And while that space can be uncomfortable, it is also rich with possibility. In holding the tension between what has passed and what has not yet arrived, we build the capacity to step through when the door finally opens.

Looking ahead, the Yin Water Rabbit year may not stand out for its obvious events, but it will likely be defined by how it feels: submerged, tender, tangled, and deeply human. A year that prepares the soil more than it plants the seed. A year for remembering that care is a form of action. That listening is its own kind of strength.

2021: Year of the Yin Metal Ox

Understanding the Chinese Zodiac and Astrological Reckoning

Chinese Zodiac calendar showing the 12 animals and their corresponding BaGua Hexagrams

Like many great civilizations, the ancient Chinese spent time looking up at the sky, both at night and during the day, charting and counting the movements of stars and planets as well as documenting the terrestrial changes of seasons and shifts in the behaviours of plants and animals. These observations were eventually systematized into an analytical and predictive astrological model called the 12 Earthly Branches which, along with another counting system called the 10 Heavenly Stems, forms the basis for the 60-year Chinese calendrical cycle.

The 12 Branches were derived from observing the movement of the planet Jupiter as it orbits around the Sun. Likely because Jupiter is one of the more visible planetary bodies in the night sky, the ancient Chinese were able to observe that Jupiter orbits the sun about every 11.8 Earth years which can be rounded to an even 12 for calendar purposes (the reality that the cosmos does not function in whole numbers is reflected in the occasional need for mathematical functions like leap years to keep January where it is in the astronomical record as opposed to it slowly drifting toward July because of a rounding discrepancy. For more on the science of leap years and astrological adjustment, just find your way to a wikipedia rabbit hole). This number 12 accounts for the 12 months of the year and the 12 year cycle of the Chinese zodiac, now represented by the animals we have all come to know from American Chinese restaurant place mats.

The 10 Heavenly Stems have a slightly less exact origin story but the historical record of Chinese bronze statuary and tools depicting the stems dates back to at least the Shang dynasty (1550 - 1050 BC). Originally, the stems were names used to distinguish the 10 days of the week as well as naming Shang dynasty ancestors whose worship and consultation were crucial to the social and political order of the period. The inscriptions of these Stem names can be found on brass pots and censors along with honorific monikers like grandfather or mother. Exactly why these particular names were used or how they related to the tribal and governmental milieu of the period is informedly speculated but not known definitively.

As time progressed and societies developed and collapsed, the ideas of the Stems and Branches evolved and comingled with other philosophical concepts like Yin and Yang or the 5 Phases. The interplay of these mathematical and philosophical principles eventually coalesces into the sexagenary, or 60-year, Chinese calendrical system that is simply referred to as 干支 (Gānzhī).

The details of the origins for each half of the 干支 (Gānzhī) is incredibly interesting and somewhat complex on its face, but the important take-aways for us have to do with the nuance and complexity that is afforded by a system of astrological reckoning that has so many layers. Because the system is built around a list of 10 things plus a list of 12 things and then dividing that list into 2 sets (yin and yang) and then cross dividing the resulting list by 5 other things (5 phases, sometimes erroneously called elements), we end up with a list of 60 items that each have a particular nuance communicated by its stem, branch, yin/yang, and phase. This cycle repeats every 60 years with the astrological qualities of each individual year recurring in the environment and influencing life and the cosmos.

Interpreting and Applying the 干支 (Gānzhī)

It is important to note that the use of the 干支 (Gānzhī) to inform decision making or to predict outcomes is much more complex and nuanced than googling your Chinese horoscope and not wearing blue that day on the advice of some faceless internet writer (You can see my face by clicking here). A detailed reading of your individual birth chart and how it intersects with the details of any given year is essential to getting useful and actionable information specific to you. But we can talk about the qualities of any one of the 60 years in the cycle in general such that they can be integrated into your regular activity and planning for any given year.

The Ox is the second creature in the 12 Branch reckoning. Though it is worth noting that the entire system is a circle and so picking any point in the cycle and calling it first or second is an arbitrary distinction that has not always been the same throughout history. I think we feel most comfortable making such distinctions because of how we usually perceive time linearly and so it makes it easier to discuss and digest if we give something beginning and end points. I will use words like “first” as I continue to talk about the cycle, but remember that first isn’t more important or representative of a true, singular beginning; it’s just a place to start.

The Ox, in the most basic reckoning, is a beast of burden — a creature that pulls heavy loads and works long hours toward goals and purposes set forth by its human caretaker. The Ox has abundant stamina and ceaseless drive, but its efforts are not quick or impassioned. Its work is diligent, purposeful, and relatively slow. These characteristics mark the nature of an Ox year where grit and fortitude are key qualities to success during what could be a difficult year.

Importantly, an Ox is also a stubborn animal. Sometimes difficult to get moving or to follow even simple commands that deviate from what is “normal,” an Ox can be a trying companion and a difficult tool to wield. Similarly, initial movement can be the challenge of an Ox year — finding the will and drive to get things going. But once there is movement, the Ox is a master of repetition, building momentum through ritual and habit that are the secrets to its seemingly endless supply of energy.

Adding the Specific Layers of Yin 陰 and Metal 金 to this Ox Year

Taijitu 太极图 “Diagram of the Great Ultimate” showing how Yin (black) and Yang (white) flow one into the other and even at their greatest strength, always contain the seed of the other inside.

The added details that create the 60 year cycle from a 12 animal calendar are the addition of a Yin 陰 or a Yang 陽 characteristic and one of the 5 phases 五行 (Fire 火 (huǒ), Water 水 (shuǐ), Wood 木 (mù), Metal 金 (jīn), and Earth 土 (tǔ)). There are thousands of words written in English on the concepts represented by Yin, Yang, and the 5 Phases and over the course of blogs and other entries, we will be able to talk about each of them. For 2021, let’s focus on the two that affect this Ox year.

Yin 陰 is one part of a pair of categories that describe all phenomena in the cosmos. These categories are described as being mutually-dependent, mutually-transformative, and mutually-restraining. That is, Yin and Yang are rooted in each other and come from the same place (mutually-dependent), Yin and Yang are constantly changing into one another (mutually-transformative) and their natures are designed to counter-balance one another (mutually-restraining). That classic YinYang symbol (actually called the Tai Ji Tu 太极图 or the “Diagram of the Great Ultimate”) that was everywhere in the US in the 90s is a representation of these concepts in a single graphic.

For the Ox year, the yin factor suggests a more substantive quality (rather than an action/moving quality) where aspects of the Ox will accented by a tendency toward reflection, rest, and restoration. Once we add the phase into the mix, the story gets even more nuanced.

The Metal Phase 金 can be simply understood as the boundaries necessary for healthy living. This phase gives people the ability to know what is me and what is not me, what is appropriate and what is out of context, what is an open mind what is a closed one. Metal is an essential quality to balancing and navigating the often overwhelming number of inputs that we regularly have to deal with. Like many traditional conceptions of the world, this is just one small sliver of how we can understand the metal phase, but this aspect is especially relevant to our Yin Metal Ox.

So what is the Yin Metal Ox 陰金牛?

It is a year of reflecting on all the madness of the previous year: all the hoarding and frantic accumulation, all the fear and frenetic worry, and all the activity of a Yang Metal Rat (2020) striving to get what it thinks it needs to survive. Then it means taking the understanding derived from this self-aware reflection and plotting a steady course forward, editing the superfluous things gathered by the Rat and organizing what remains toward our goals and hopeful outcomes. And lastly, it means slowly and intentionally working on those goals. The Yin Metal Ox year is a year for doing but for doing in an intentional and methodical way, undistracted by wild passion or intense emotion. It’s not a year for creating things completely new but instead a time for discerning what has worked and what hasn’t and putting those lessons into well-reasoned actions that become habits. It is a year for recovering and rebuilding, for putting things in context for ourselves and for our communities, and for knowing that the cycle always moves forward.