As an astrologer and website
designer, I spend the bulk of my days in the technology-rich
realm of Aquarius, gazing at a computer screen. The
Internet gives me access to a vast landscape of information;
it’s not called the World Wide Web for nothing! Email helps
me maintain friendships with far-away kindred spirits. My
astrology work takes full advantage of Aquarian technological
wizardry, as I tape readings, record them on CD, and mail
them to people I’ve never met. And as a website designer,
I spend hours building online homes for individuals and businesses.
My Aquarian world extends
my reach beyond the boundaries of my bricks-and-mortar life,
enabling me to transcend the limits of geography and an introverted
personality. Without the Web, one source of my livelihood
wouldn’t exist at all, and my other work would be drawn from
a much smaller pool of clients. But the downside to this
Aquarian utopia is that my participation in the world of flesh
and blood suffers when I spend too much time at the computer.
Phone calls from friends languish unreturned and laundry piles
up in the corner. It can be difficult to push myself away
from my comfortable virtual refuge to attend to real-life
relationships and responsibilities, which tend to be more
demanding than the electronic variety.
Luckily, I live with my husband
and our two cats, and they are all three-dimensional, lovable
creatures who yank me out of my Aquarian parallel life on
a regular basis, whether or not I like it. Our younger cat
Spike, in particular, considers me his personal property.
Spike is three years old, with the muscle mass of a full-grown
cat but the energy level of a kitten. Since he lives indoors
full-time, this equation adds up to a huge requirement for
playful exercise. Guess who is his playmate of choice?
Spike has learned that my computer
is The Enemy, his foremost rival for my attention. The minute
I sit down to work, Spike is on the scene, dangling from an
overhead shelf, climbing my computer station and striding
across the keyboard. It’s maddening to sit down with a set
of goals and objectives, build up to the necessary level of
intensity, turn away from a moment – and turn back to find
that the last twenty minutes of work have been mysteriously,
if deftly deleted.
This morning, my goal was to
finish writing this article about the Leo Full Moon. How
does Leo balance and complement the global, futuristic brilliance
of Aquarius? I hadn’t a clue; but I sat dutifully at my
computer, hoping that something, anything would occur to me.
The problem is that Aquarius rules my third house of communication,
and my fount of inspiration is about as predictable as a lightning
strike. My so-called "writing process" consists
entirely of working myself up into a frenzy of tension and
writhing with resistance like a fish on a hook, until I finally
force myself to sit down and spill the words out like Scrabble
tiles from a cup.
Spike is keenly attuned to this
process, and as soon as I starting tapping my fingers and
shifting restlessly in my chair, he launched into action.
First, a spikey claw materialized from the edge of my desk
and swiped my pencil. Then he leaped onto my printer, and
soon he was literally swinging from the curtain. My "No!"s
grew sharper and my temper shorter, and I was ready to bellow.
But just as I was surgically extracting him from the Venetian
blinds, Spike gave me a look of such droll feline sobriety
that my anger melted into laughter. I surrendered, abandoning
my work and following him into the next room for a nice, long
game of catch. And of course, when I finally returned to my
computer, I had found the inspiration for my article.
The Full Moon in Leo reminds
us that all creatures want to feel special and loved, and
nothing makes us feel that way more than personal attention
from those we care about. Right now, with Mars moving
through the last, aching degrees of Taurus, in difficult aspect
to the Sun in Aquarius and Moon in Leo, there are plenty of
troubles to distract us from life’s inherent joyfulness –
worries about money, health problems, stubborn disputes. The
Sun in Aquarius naturally tilts our focus skyward for solutions,
gazing into the future and into our computer screens, scanning
an invisible horizon for lightning bolts of inspiration.
When we are gazing at the stars,
or into the limitless horizon of the Internet, it’s easy to
overlook what’s all around us at ground level. And now, with
demanding Saturn moving through Leo, our inner children (and
pets!) are all too often living a latchkey life while we chase
goals that seem ever farther from our reach. Fortunately,
this Full Moon in Leo season offers the glow of affection
when we need it most, and the appearance of delightful
distractions, like a mischievous cat that coaxes you away
from the computer. You need only shift your gaze a little
farther down to earth, into your immediate environment, to
find the playful inspiration that can open your heart and
inspire a thousand Aquarian dreams.
Specifically, look to the house
of your birth chart ruled by Leo, and any planets in Leo,
for a description of your natural playground, the environments
and situations that encourage you to play, love, and bask
in the catnip of affection. Cultivate your kittenish energy
this Full Moon season, and you will find all the creative
fuel you need as you rev your engine, fire up your computer,
and speed away into your Aquarian future.
