Here are some of modern astrology’s contradictory messages about Aquarius, the sign of this Full Moon: Aquarius symbolizes weirdness, iconoclasm, and innovation, but also friendship and membership in groups. So which is it?
Well, I guess it’s both, really. Aquarius signals sensitivity to the collective, whether it’s because you feel an affinity for it or something a bit like horror. And the truth is, humans are social creatures, so this is something that pertains to each of us.
Prowling Facebook early this morning, I spied some photos from a recent reunion of my high school class. Seeing them made me feel vindicated in my decision not to go. To my socially-anxious eyes, the entire scenario—from the windowless hotel banquet room to the manic gaiety of the conga line—resembled some little-known circle of Dante’s Inferno.
There seem to be at least two kinds of people in the world: Those who never miss their high school reunions, and those wouldn’t dream of going to one. I’ll leave you to guess which kind I am. (more…)
September 2016 will bring a Solar Eclipse in Virgo (Sep. 1) and a Lunar Eclipse in Pisces (Sep. 16). Many astrological calendars and websites also list the August 18, 2016 Aquarius Full Moon as a lunar eclipse. When I noticed that this eclipse did not appear in the calculations for my Moonshadow personal eclipse report, I went looking for the reason.
First, I noticed that this eclipse did not appear on NASA’s list of eclipses. It seems that the earth’s shadow just misses touching the Moon; it will not produce a visible eclipse event anywhere on earth. It’s a kind of phantom, “almost-eclipse.” I checked with Astro.com, creators of the Swiss Ephemeris (tables of planetary positions used in many software programs). They told me that they listed the August 18 Full Moon as an eclipse in earlier versions of the ephemeris. They later discovered that this was an error and subsequently removed it. Other ephemerides do include the eclipse, however, and that is most likely why it appears in so many astrology calendars.
So … is it a lunar eclipse?
I may be proven wrong, but I doubt the August 18 Full Moon will really behave like an eclipse, astrologically speaking. It may, however, act as a kind of early warning signal for eclipses near the same point on Feb. 11, 2017 (22.28 Leo) and Aug. 21, 2017 (28.52 Leo). If your birth chart has planets or angles in the last ten degrees of a fixed sign, you will likely find those eclipses bring more change and drama to your life than the August 18 Full Moon.
There is, however, a connection between this Full Moon and a Lunar eclipse in the same series on August 8, 1998; that time period may emerge as relevant at the August 18 Full Moon.
© 2016 April Elliott Kent
Creativity is a quality that most astrologers associate with Leo, the sign of this New Moon, and with its ruler, the Sun. We’re all creative, with a mad desire to connect with a powerful and loving Source. You’ve probably known people who deny that they’re creative at all. But ask them to remember when they lost all track of time because they were doing something they enjoyed. Nearly everyone can come up with something. It might have been something as simple as dead-heading roses, organizing a closet, or playing fantasy football. “But that’s not creative!” we might object, imagining that creative people wear berets and wield paintbrushes.
On the contrary—passionate absorption in anything is the hallmark of creativity. The moment when you’re fully and happily engrossed in some activity, delighting in its nuances and solving its delectable puzzles, you’re engaged in what therapist Phil Stutz calls The Grateful Flow. In his book The Tools, Stutz describes five techniques he uses to help his patients build happier and more fulfilling lives. The Grateful Flow uses gratitude to retrain the mind away from the endless loop of negativity and toward joyful engagement.
For instance, if you’re doing something just for the money, because your boss demands it, or because your readers expect to hear from you twice a month; if you’re preoccupied with how much better you should be doing something, or whether it will be well received by others—you’re not in the Grateful Flow. To motivate yourself with the sting of the whip is the opposite of creativity, which is spontaneous, joyful, and self-directed.
As a writer, I’m no stranger to the whip. I’ve been writing about astrology now for nearly a quarter of a century. In some ways it gets easier and easier, but in one very important way it is harder now than it used to be. Now, I feel self-conscious because many more people are reading the things that I write. It’s easy to give into fear that what I write will be less compelling than others things I’ve written, or might offend somebody. Each time I finish a new article, my finger hovers for a moment over the “publish” button; I’m a little bit anxious about what will happen next.
When we fall into the ego trap, playing out Leo’s self-aggrandizing shadow side, we’re especially vulnerable to creative blocks. “The moment you claim credit for your success, you also have to take the blame for any future failure,” Stutz points out. His antidote to creative anxiety is to connect to the Source by thanking it for what you already have. Whenever you notice your mind visiting familiar neighborhoods of negativity, reroute it with thoughts about the things, people, and circumstances for which you’re grateful. Gratitude opens the heart to the world around you in the same way being in love makes the world seem like a kinder and more benevolent place. You’re not only happy, but inspired—available to receive whatever ideas and inspirations come your way. (more…)
“I’m not here to say please. I’m here to tell you what to do.”
~ Mr. Wolf (Harvey Keitel), Pulp Fiction
Jules and Vincent, professional hitmen, have a mess on their hands. They’ve accidentally shot someone in the backseat of Jules’ car, and they need to get rid of the evidence fast. They retreat to the nearby suburban home of their friend Jimmy, who anticipates the imminent arrival of his volatile wife, Bonnie. With the clock ticking, Jules contacts his boss, who immediately dispatches Mr. Winston Wolf to the scene to manage the situation.
Poised and impeccable in a suit and tie despite the early hour, Mr. Wolf assesses the situation and quickly lays out a course of action: get some towels, clean the car, camouflage the gore with quilts. “Boys, get to work,” he finishes.
“A ‘please’ would be nice,” protests Vincent. Mr. Wolf’s smooth, professional façade turns sharp and bristly. “I’m not here to say please,” he retorts. “I’m here to tell you what to do. If self-preservation is an instinct you possess, you better f—ing do it, and do it quick.”
Mr. Wolf could only be a Capricorn. Smooth, civilized, professional – but just beneath the genteel surface is someone even a hitman wouldn’t want to mess with. After all, Mars, the planet of war and knife-play, is exalted in this sign. In restrained, tactical Capricorn, the savage Mars warrior becomes a general, and the butcher, a surgeon. (more…)
Thanks to a generous colleague with an Ancestry.com account, I recently got my hands on a copy of my mother’s birth certificate. For years, I’d used a chart based on her recollection that she was born “just as the men were coming home from the fields for their supper.” Mom was born at home on a backwater farm in the early 1930s, so I’d never searched for her birth records, assuming her time of birth wouldn’t have been recorded. But there it was, crowded next to the doctor’s signature like a precious afterthought. I might actually have squealed when I saw it. (Maybe you have to be an astrologer to understand.)
So I now have a proper birth chart for one of my parents, at least, and I’m having one heck of a good time tearing it apart. Astrological signatures seem to run in families as surely as high arches or a Roman nose, and it’s always good fun to compare the birth charts of parents and their children to see the recurring patterns. Not to mention that each of us were little transits to our parents’ birth charts, and it can be sobering to realize that your natal Mars conjoined your mother’s Moon represents the sweltering August afternoon hours of your agonizing birth. (Sorry about that, Mom. Guess you got back at me with that Saturn/South Node connection.)
How is it that when we think of soulmates, our parents seldom come to mind? Or for that matter, siblings, first cousins, and the grade school nemesis who unfailingly edged us out as the top student in our class? We seem to assume soulmates present themselves only as romantic partners or maybe the rare lifelong friend. That usually disqualifies the people who grounded us or gave us wedgies. (more…)
I’ve been ignoring current events to the best of my ability for some time now, but the occasional atrocity slips past the goalie. I heard about what happened in Orlando and Oakland, and the brutal murder of Jo Cox, a member of Parliament; I’m aware that Britain is deciding whether to leave the EU, and I’ve gotten the memo that the US Presidential race is just about as awful as one could imagine.
It’s all too big and too terrible, and when we try to swallow each day’s events in one tremendous social media gulp—the killings, the politics, the hatred, the news of friends variously losing parents and pets and jobs and health—we naturally choke on it.
The June 20 Full Moon is in Sagittarius, and while Saturn has been traveling through the Archer’s territory it’s been a challenge for me to locate Sagittarius’ wisdom, native optimism, and zest for adventure. It’s even hard to welcome joyous summer when you suspect that every beach has cut glass and scorpions lurking inside the sandcastles or snipers with military assault weapons hiding in the lifeguard tower. (more…)
If time seems to be moving especially fast these days, you may have gotten swept up in the energetic vortex of the approaching New Moon. The chart for the exact moment of the New Moon (June 4, 2016, at 7:59 pm Pacific time, 14.53 Gemini) features the Sun and Moon in a close conjunction with Venus, all in Gemini; they are just past an opposition to Saturn, and all four are square Jupiter and Neptune.
It’s a configuration called a Grand Cross, with at least one planet in each of the four cardinal, fixed, or mutable signs. And if you’re wondering what that might feel like, just picture yourself stuck on one of those circus wheels where they strap you on, spin you around, and throw knives at you.
But!—since this Grand Cross lies in the imaginative mutable signs, here’s a lovelier, lighter image. Picture a brave, shiny little pinwheel, catching the high afternoon winds and spinning furiously. Eventually, the winds will die down. In the meantime, how do you keep the whirligig from blowing away? (more…)
With Sagittarius rising in my birthchart, Mercury opposed Jupiter, and lots of planets in the 9th house, you could be forgiven for thinking I’m a born centaur. This is especially true on the occasions when I jump on my high horse (so to speak) and start delivering sermons like a self-styled Joan of Arc.
I’m most apt to get Sadgey when I sense someone else is being bullied or treated unfairly. It doesn’t have to be someone I particularly like, either. Mostly, I can justify those rants. But for every situation that really demands stark truth-telling, there’s one that calls for a little more restraint and judgment. At those moments, this piece of advice, attributed to Indian spiritual master Sai Baba, can be helpful:
Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve upon the silence? (more…)
This New Moon is in Taurus, “the money sign.” With lots of planets retrograde this month—often bringing unexpected financial setbacks—many of us might be fretting a bit over our bank accounts lately. It’s no fun to feel worried about how you’re going to pay your rent or your car mechanic. So by all means, at this New Moon, do some rituals (I love this one from Dana Gerhardt) and set intentions around attracting more money into your life.
But to focus only on money is to miss the larger point of Taurus, and perhaps of whatever stressful situations come your way. And that larger point is the importance of self-sufficiency.
Aries represents the challenge of withstanding immediate threat, but Taurus is where we meet the challenges of day-to-day survival. It represents how we put shelter over our heads, food on the stove, clothes on our back. If we don’t have these basic necessities or can’t provide them for ourselves, we’re in a serious crisis of security. Nowhere is this crisis more evident and immediate than in the way we feed ourselves.
“She’s like a beautiful Godzilla!”
“The only way the gods know we’re asking for help is ritual.” – Caroline Casey
Taurus and Scorpio are the two signs of the zodiac that are most closely associated with money. So if your finances are strained or life just isn’t giving you enough of what you want, the Scorpio Full Moon is the perfect time for a prosperity adjustment.
The prosperity dance involves persuading others that you have something that is so valuable, they should give you whatever you ask in order to get it. Sometimes, this exchange flows effortlessly; other times, it’s as though there is an actual, physical obstruction between you and prosperity. That’s when you find yourself feeling broke – or at least, you don’t have enough money to do something that’s really important to you (like pay rent, for instance).
Does it follow that if others are not offering to pay you for what you have, it isn’t valuable? I don’t think so. But I have noticed that simply being a nice person and good at what you do isn’t enough. Those who are wildly successful have some quality of attraction or seduction that makes others want to work with them/buy from them/be near them.
Seduction relies on a kind of subliminal, mesmerizing persuasiveness. It’s characterized by the ability to hold others spellbound and desperate to please you. These qualities don’t come naturally to me; perhaps they’re not your gifts, either.
These are Scorpionic gifts. (more…)