As I write this, the county where I live is overwhelmed
with enormous brush fires, worse than the firestorms that
consumed whole communities almost exactly four years ago.
Local news coverage is filled with terrified residents who
were forced to evacuate their homes, and most of their stories
are the same: Of pets that were crated up, a few beloved and
irreplaceable photos or mementos grabbed, and a few clothes
and toiletries stuffed hastily into bags. Many of the fire’s
victims left behind half-million dollar homes and thousands
of dollars worth of personal belongings, in some cases barely
escaping with their lives. Yet, every shaky voice expresses
gratitude - thanks that their family is together and safe,
for the firefighters risking their lives to save houses and
humans, for the outpouring of help and support from the community.
At some point, sitting around swilling wine with friends
in a philosophical mood, we've all been asked, "What would
you take with you if you had to flee a burning house?"
Here in San Diego today, it's more than an informal Rorschach
test. Even those of us in relatively safe areas are eyeing
our possessions, sizing up the essential qualities of artwork,
heirlooms, and jewelry. What about you? If the winds of Scorpio
change tore through your life today, if you had to flee your
home to escape a wildfire, an invading army, or broken levees,
what would you take with you from your Taurus treasure trove?
What would be enough?
We have to seize on the teachings of these moments when we
can, because emergencies eventually pass. Those who lost everything
in the fires of 2003 eventually rebuilt their lives; in time,
I’ll bet their new closets even began to gather a bit of clutter,
a familiar tangle of nonessential items. But I doubt they’re
very attached to this stuff, or that they’ve forgotten the
lessons of crisis and loss that taught them how little they
need to get by. Some of them probably rebuilt homes in communities
that are in flames again today, and I imagine their internal
early warning systems were alerted at the first note of dry,
hot Santa Ana winds. I picture them taking to the county's
backroads last night, with light loads packed in minutes and
tossed in the trunks of their cars, secure in the knowledge
that getting away with lives was more than "enough."
This Scorpio season reminds us that life is ours for a relatively
short time. Haunted by the knowledge of life's brevity, we
grab as many of its tangible rewards as we can. We spend a
lot of time and energy collecting objects of beauty, usefulness,
or charm, and we are pleased to have them. But this Full
Moon in Taurus reminds us, in the face of Scorpio's purifying
destruction, how simple our true needs really are: Just those
we love, and maybe a toothbrush.
***
The Sun’s journey through Scorpio is an ideal time to probe,
deconstruct, and release the toxic byproducts of building
our lives. Especially in combination with Saturn's current
transit through prudent Virgo, this is the perfect season
for letting go of whatever isn't working or needed. At
this Full Moon in Taurus, however, we're also urged to take
a moment to pause and reflect on how best to fill the various
craters that this Scorpionic process will leave behind. Nature
abhors a vacuum, as the saying goes; if you doubt it, just
look at your house a day or two after a thorough cleaning.
Where did all that dust and clutter come from?
This month, as you create space in your home, your life,
and your heart, give a little thought as well to what will
fill those spaces; otherwise, any old thing is likely
to float in and take up residence in the corners. It's good
Scorpionic ritual to clean out closets and stop accepting
social engagements that don't really appeal to you. But what
will take the place of those discarded, moth-eaten clothes
and unwanted Sunday brunches? Even if the answer is "Nothing,"
then give that "nothing" a definite shape in your mind. Picture
a closest filled with space instead of junk, and Sunday mornings
brimming with long hikes through wilderness areas or lazy
breakfasts at home.
Your Taurus self longs to enjoy everything about the human
experience, but its cravings can't be satisfied by stuff alone.
What Taurus really wants is simply enough -
enough food to keep hunger at bay, enough money to pay the
bills, enough love to let us feel needed and worthwhile. In
a culture of 24-hour shopping, it's very easy to avoid asking
the tough questions about what is really missing from our
lives; it's so easy to simply fill the empty spaces with thrilling
new purchases. It's much like stuffing yourself so full of
empty calories that you lose your taste for healthy food.
Just as it sometimes takes a health-related emergency to bring
your attention to poor eating habits, other kinds of emergencies
can remind you how simple your needs really are.
Taurus
Full Moon Reflections:
