New Moon/Solar Eclipse in Gemini: Brothers and Sisters

Posted by & filed under Eclipses, Gemini, New Moon.

by April Elliott Kent

A couple of years ago, I spent a few months happily devouring Alexander McCall Smith’s series of novels about The #1 Ladies Detective Agency. The series follows the adventures of Precious Ramotswe, the first lady detective in a small town in Botswana. What makes the series singularly appealing is the peek into a gentle way of life that is passing away (and for all I know, might never have existed, in much the same way Mayberry represented an idealized version of 1950s rural life in the United States). For instance, whenever Mma Ramotswe wishes to invoke “the old ways” and establish immediate rapport with a countryman, she simply calls the other “sister” or “brother.”

In astrology, ties between siblings are represented by Gemini – the sign of this New Moon – and by the third house of the chart. Naturally, not everyone shares the same idea about what it means to be a brother or a sister. As an astrologer, I’m supposed to be unflappable; but in many years of astrological counseling I admit I’ve been truly shocked by stories of sibling rivalries, of betrayal and estrangement, even incest. Such stories have made me feel all the more fortunate for having shared close bonds with my brothers and my sister. We don’t always get along, of course. But without them I can’t imagine who I would have become. And I imagine the same could be said even for those who have a toxic relationship with their siblings.

Brothers and sisters teach us our earliest lessons about relationship. When we become infatuated with ourselves, they cut us down to size. When others bully or mistreat us, a sibling is usually prepared to defend us. Siblings teach us the talismanic power of words, of promises and proprietary claims, of nicknames and teasing. Identical twins are famous for developing secret languages no one else can understand, but if you spend ten minutes with any pair of siblings who are reasonably close you will quickly encounter an impenetrable fog of in-jokes and verbal shortcuts.

Not surprisingly, Gemini also rules communication – the skills of encoding and decoding messages, of understanding our world and making ourselves understood. Our interactions with siblings teach us how to argue and negotiate, how to twist the knife, how to tell a joke, and how far we can go without completely alienating someone. Brothers and sisters teach us how to curse with real distinction, how to outwit authorities (especially our parents), and how to navigate the dynamics of competition.

Our brothers and sisters teach us how to interact with others and by extension, they teach us who we are. By negotiating a role for ourselves among our siblings, we define ourselves. To a lesser extent this is also true of our neighbors (also ruled by Gemini and the third house of the horoscope), to whom we’re also yoked by common turf, mutual interests, and subtle competition. Few of us would admit that we feel pressure to “keep up with the Joneses,” but it’s difficult not to compare your old jalopy and crabgrass-infested lawn to your neighbor’s bright new sedan and expensive landscaping. We naturally compare ourselves to those whose circumstances closely resemble our own – just as we might compare ourselves with a brother or sister.

This New Moon in Gemini is a Solar Eclipse. Eclipses tend to poke at sensitive spots in the psyche; this particular bruise may be sibling-shaped.  When a family loses a sibling, through estrangement or death, it’s like losing spokes on a wheel: it may still turn, but the vehicle becomes wobbly. One of my brothers died suddenly and young. Our mother died two years later, and as devastating as that was, I realized that the loss of a sibling is in many ways an even graver tragedy. After all, as my mother once suggested, you can reasonably expect to someday lose your parents, but subconsciously we expect our siblings – our partners in crime – to walk with us to the end of our journey. (more…)

Previewing the May 20 Solar Eclipse: A glass-bottomed boat

Posted by & filed under Eclipses, Gemini, New Moon, Sabian Symbols, Venus retrograde.

Look for an in-depth essay next week, but here’s a quick review of the upcoming Solar Eclipse on May 20/21.

May 20, 2012 – Solar Eclipse 00.20 Gemini
4:47 pm PDT / 7:47 pm EDT
12:47 am BST (May 21) / 9:45 am AEST (May 21)

Sabian Symbol: A glass-bottomed boat reveals undersea wonders.

This Solar Eclipse takes place at the Moon’s South Node. South Node eclipses call us to  release old, comfortable patterns – a process that is often painful, and sometimes a bit frightening. In this case, you may find that what you’ve always accepted as “common knowledge” is nothing of the sort. The Sun and Moon square Neptune in the eclipse chart affirm that sometimes the path to real understanding is navigated not with the mind, but rather with intuition, imagination, and compassion. It’s a fitting reflection of this New Moon point’s Sabian Symbol, “A glass-bottomed boat reveals undersea wonders.”

Transiting Mars in exacting Virgo is square the Moon’s Lunar Nodes at this eclipse, and suggests the journey toward greater understanding and perspective is one that will be energizing, but also demanding.  Let yourself surrender the ideal of “perfection” so that you can embrace all that is “good.” (more…)

Full Moon in Scorpio: In the Belly of a Duck

Posted by & filed under Full Moon, Scorpio.

Full Moon Scorpio Belly of a Duck

It’s downhill all the way to the ocean,
so of course the river always wants to flow.
The river’s been here longer,
It’s older and stronger and knows where to go.
~ David Wilcox, “Slipping Through My Fist”

Ever hopeful for increased prosperity and other cosmic bonbons, I decided to perform the Venus Santeria ritual that Dana wrote about at MoonCircles. It sounded so simple – a piece of bread, a smallish candle, a nickel, a body of running water – but it took me the better part of an afternoon to collect the right size candle, the right shape roll. Finally, I had everything I needed to perform the ritual on the Friday (Venus’ day) after the New Moon.

So just before lunchtime I wrote out my wish list, prepared my little roll, and lit the candle. As it burned down, I followed the ritual’s instructions to pursue pleasant Venusian pastimes. I had my favorite food for lunch, and then I replaced my decaying guitar strings, which seemed appropriately Venusy. Within a couple of hours the candle burned itself out, and I was ready to … well, roll, so to speak. The question was, where to release my Venusian offering into the wild? I had been thinking of taking it over to Coronado and tossing it into the ocean, but then I reread Dana’s article and realized salt water was out of the question.

Then my husband remembered a spot down in the valley where we might be able to get close enough to the bank of the San Diego River to surrender my cosmic muffin therein. We parked in a nearby lot, trundled down the street a piece, and found a likely – if rocky – spot. We picked our way cautiously a few feet down, where I perched on a rock and hurled the bun. At first, I was dismayed; the roll fell just at the edge of a kind of breakwater thing and just sat there for a minute. And then I noticed that the wind was blowing the water toward the breakwater, and despaired of my little offering to Venus getting very far at all.

Then, an intervention: a group of four ducks descended on the roll, pushed it into the river, and began eating it. “That’s… good, right?” I asked my husband. “I mean, nature participating in the ritual, and all.” “Well, think of it this way,” he pointed out. “That roll is going to get a lot further down the river in the stomach of that duck than it would have on its own.” (more…)

New Moon in Taurus: The Weight of the World

Posted by & filed under New Moon, Taurus.

by April Elliott Kent

taurusTaurus is the sign of physical pleasures and indulgence. Unfortunately, I was born with Saturn in the second house of my chart, which is Taurus’ natural domain. My psyche “reads” Taurus as representing the unobtainable – or at least, things obtainable only through herculean effort. And so as usual at the New Moon in Taurus, I find myself feeling dissatisfied with my physical world. All my possessions seem shabby. My house and garden are a mess. I can’t keep up with the laundry. And my weight. Oh lord, my weight.

I’ve always struggled with my weight. Always. Partly, it’s genetics; I come from a family of large people. But in greater part it’s the cumulative bad habits of a lifetime, the legacy of a family that has always turned to food to cope with problems, as other families might turn to excessive alcohol, drugs, religion, or shopping.

Worse, I’m simply not naturally inclined toward anything athletic. Some astrologer friends and I used to joke that we were “dead from the neck down,” and it’s true I’ve tended to live in my head, that my axiom has always been “Never stand if you can sit, never sit if you can recline with a book.” I was indulged in my love of books and writing from an early age and was never browbeaten into the kinds of physical activities that, while they did not come naturally to me, might have conditioned me to pursue a more well-balanced lifestyle.

And so any healthful habits I’ve developed over the past 50 years have been a triumph over my own indifference to the physical world and a family legacy of using food and books as the coping mechanisms of choice. But victories of this sort all too often have a feeling of panicked impermanence about them, with backsliding and failure always seeming to loom nearby.

Which brings me here, to this New Moon in Taurus heart of spring, once again enacting rites of resurrection I’ve performed in years past. About a year ago, I turned a familiar corner. Some indefinable something clicked – it’s a mysterious switch that unexpectedly and blessedly flips on, and overnight it’s suddenly possible to throw away the Cheetos and commit to better habits. I started spending more time outdoors, weeding and pruning and taking walks, and the sunshine and fresh air are doing me a world of good. It’s as though I’ve reincarnated, inhabiting a body again after a long absence, and it’s a good feeling. (more…)

Full Moon in Libra: Passion and Prudence

Posted by & filed under Full Moon.

by April Elliott Kent

Through the Looking Glass: Careful there, Alice!

Each year at the Aries New Moon, I imagine the great mass of humanity bursting out of the starting gate like the bulls running in Pamplona – highly charged with vim and vitality, impatient to get on with the business of … what, exactly? At the New Moon, we’re never exactly sure. We’re long on energy, but short on perspective. And Aries, of all the signs, exemplifies this New Moon spirit. At the Libra Full Moon (April 6, 2012, at 17.23 Libra), our task is to cast the cool eye of appraisal over the ideas and ventures that were  initiated at the Aries New Moon (March 22, 2012, at 2.22 Aries). Do they seem revolutionary and creative, or merely impetuous – even reckless?

Without the restraint and perspective for which Libra is famous, the unleashing of Aries energy can occasionally lead to real danger. My sister, born at the New Moon and with Aries rising, was a bristly, calamitous child. Once, impatient to be let in the house, she slammed her palm on the glass pane of the front door and cut her hand badly. On a particularly memorable spring morning, as we crept through a neighbor’s yard to get a look at their baby bunnies, she suddenly cried out in pain; when I turned to find out why, I saw that she had stepped on a large, iron rake, and a prong had impaled her big toe.

Her lack of caution occasionally got her into trouble, but still, you had to admire her spirit.Aries-like, she simply didn’t know the meaning of fear. She harassed her baby sister with real vigor, but she was just as fierce on my behalf when mean kids messed with me on the playground. And she loved an adventure. When our mother announced that we were moving 3,000 miles away to California, my brother and I crumpled in despair, devastated to leave our friends in Indiana – but my sister’s eyes lit up, and her toes tapped with excitement.

On the other hand… well, the blood. The cut glass, the punctured toe (and in later years, the thumb caught by the sewing machine needle; the hand neatly sliced by a broken water glass while she was washing the dishes). So while I applaud the je ne sais quoi of the intrepid Aries, I’m relieved to take a moment during this Sun in Aries cycle to rest, sip a cool drink, and meditate for a moment on the balancing attributes of Aries’ opposite sign – the measured restraint of Libra.

Where Aries is spirited, Libra is smooth. Aries rushes, but Libra glides. On the playground, Aries shoves a kid off the swing so she can have her turn; Libra sweet talks the kid until he not only vacates the swing, but agrees to push her while she takes her ride. Aries and Libra are each determined to get their way – they are, after all, cardinal signs, and like to be in charge – but they differ stylistically. Aries favors the direct approach; when Aries wants something from you, it is plain what it is and how he intends to get it. Libra, on the other hand, is a master strategist, flattering and charming his way to victory.

This is not to say that Libra’s approach is perfect. Libra’s job is to consider all possibilities before acting; but while Libra may have more perspective than Aries, this does not necessarily translate into great clarity about which course should be pursued. In fact, Libra can find herself overwhelmed by these possibilities, weighing first one, then the other, then the first one again… until Aries is jumping up and down in frustration: “Just! Choose! One!” (more…)

Pluto: Go Deeper

Posted by & filed under Pluto.

“Transcendence” is a word astrologers commonly use to talk about Pluto’s transits and aspects to other planets in the birth chart. But before we can hope to transcend a situation, we must first commit to being full engaged in it. When Pluto is involved, this commitment carries some risk.

A neighbor shared the story of being unexpectedly confronted by an unfriendly dog that promptly took his entire hand into its mouth. Most people’s instinct would be to pull the hand away, and in doing so probably shred the flesh against the dog’s teeth. But my neighbor’s instinctive reaction proved much wiser: he pushed his hand further down into the dog’s throat. The dog gagged and opened its mouth, allowing my neighbor to pull his hand out, uninjured. (more…)

Astrology Q&A: Where does the transit fall in my chart?

Posted by & filed under Beginners, Learning Astrology.

Can you please advise how can I find out in which House of my Birth Chart is the New Moon? How do I find it? How about other transiting planets that you refer to in your articles? Help!

I get this question a lot, and this is actually one of the things that confused me when I was getting started in astrology. I’ll take a crack at making this simple.

If you like your instructions in writing, drop down below the video and a step-by-step example, using an Astro.com chart.

If you’re more of a video person, you can take a gander at this one, which is about 7 minutes long  (select the “full screen” version to see it a bit better): (more…)

New Moon in Aries: Grapes of Wrath

Posted by & filed under Aries, Mars, New Moon.

by April Elliott Kent

One day, driving back from an otherwise uneventful trip to Trader Joe’s, I became so angry at a fellow motorist that I screamed – and it felt so good that I screamed some more. I screamed so enthusiastically that my husband, over in the passenger’s seat, started to get kind of concerned. He later told me that my screaming and anger had made him feel “as though someone was standing on my chest.”

Oh, dear. I know that feeling. I’ve been on the other end plenty of times, watching otherwise rational people rage out of control in a way that makes me fear for their safety and their sanity. I feel that way at family gatherings when talk turns to politics and controversy quickly ensues, and when I don’t click past the cable news shows fast enough while channel-surfing. I feel that way reading the e-newsletters from the astrological organizations I belong to, when an astrologer starts spouting anger toward an astrologer with a differing approach or perspective.

It’s worth noting, at the New Moon in Aries – ruled by Mars, the god of war – that anger has its place in the vast scheme of things. It’s a warning sign that something or someone is being threatened, and acts as a motivator to remove the threat. And in my defense, I will say that although I overreacted, my fellow motorist had jumped his turn at a four-way stop and nearly rammed his SUV into the side of my tiny Toyota. I was, indeed, threatened. Except that I can’t see that anger really helped me in that situation. And in fact, it probably harmed me, stoking up my blood pressure and upsetting my sweetie as well.

My over-the-top reaction to a minor traffic incident got me thinking, and it dawned on me that earlier that morning, I’d had my feelings deeply hurt by someone who I felt hadn’t recognized and appreciated some things that I’d done. I had swallowed those feelings whole, because they embarrassed me; but they were still there, festering, until an inattentive motorist “overlooked” me and triggered my little emotion bomb.

No matter how old we get or how confident we may seem, there’s a vulnerable, newborn Aries baby inside all of us who wants to come first. And when it doesn’t we scream bloody murder, like an infant who hasn’t been fed quickly enough. (more…)

Spring: Faces of Mars

Posted by & filed under Aries, Mars, Scorpio, Seasonal Essays.

by April Elliott Kent

I’ve grown lazy in the garden, and everything would be dead if it weren’t for the much-needed rainfall that ended our winter drought last week. Now the lawn, which we let turn brown and dusty until the rains came along and took pity on it, is lush and verdant and keeps my husband busy for at least a couple of hours each weekend. He resents this deeply, and I can’t say I blame him; but I like the green nonetheless.

The plants are suffering, though. A number of them need repotting, and I should’ve pruned back the rose bushes a month ago; but now they’re full of beautiful, dark red  foliage and I don’t have the heart. Anyway, it’s not that I don’t have time to devote to the garden, because truthfully I’m bone idle a lot of the time. I guess we just had such a short, stinting, mildish winter here that I feel a little cheated, and I’m reluctant to drag myself into spring mode.

Once I do, though, I’m bound to enjoy it. As I’ve mentioned before, I fancy myself a sort of horticultural messiah, raising plants from the dead. I really like a lost cause, always have. Had a lot of stupid relationships because of it, early on. Seems I have the eye to see the potential of a thing — can see the prince in the frog, the princess in the chambermaid, the Academy Award winner in the struggling character actor — as well as the conceit to think I can coax realization from potential. Transformation of something broken and half-dead into something beautiful and lush is thrilling as hell.  But resurrection — bringing forth life from death — is a labor of love that requires a lot of energy, and for that reason it’s a tough act to pull off.

Energy — that fine, pure dominion of Mars — is, in fact, the common denominator of life and death; hence, its astrological rulership of both Aries (birth) and Scorpio (death). In the garden, there is no life without death; foul, impolite, Scorpionic matter gets turned over and around and makes the soil a rich and nutritious thing. The hard labor of insects and enzymes, the vibrant energy of breaking down organic material into a usable state, is the foundation on which spring’s brave and tender beauty is built. So if all we celebrate of spring is the Aries emergence of green and vibrant foliage, then we’ve lost half the story of Mars — the dark, earthy, breaking-down Mars of Scorpio.  (more…)

Full Moon in Virgo: The Editor

Posted by & filed under Full Moon, Virgo.

by April Elliott Kent

As a writer, I’ve worked with my share of editors. I’ve appreciated every one of them. A couple of them, I’ve downright loved.

The editors I’ve loved working with have had something important in common. Their focus was on what was right with my work, instead of what was wrong with it. I mean, eventually we got around to refining the disjointed thoughts and cleaning up the sentences that occasionally trailed off without any ending at all. In this, they were every bit as exacting as their job required. But the process began with their enthusiasm for the best of my writing, followed by coaching designed to help me bring the rest of it up to the same level.

All this is soothing for the writer’s ego, of course. But there’s also a practical lesson in there for any of us who find ourselves in a position of critiquing others, as parents, bosses, coaches, or even friends: most of the time, high standards combined with encouragement inspires better results than criticism alone.

The Full Moon in Virgo – especially this one, with the Moon conjoined prickly Mars in Virgo, and Mercury square Pluto – is a good time to meditate on one of the keywords commonly associated with Virgo: criticism. Virgo’s criticism is a consequence of two other keyword qualities, discrimination and discernment. Like its opposite sign, Pisces, Virgo is idealistic, embracing dreams of perfection – but Virgo can be a bit pessimistic about the capacity of mere mortals to live up to these ideals.

While Pisces is blessed with the ability to overlook imperfection, Virgo is tasked with seeing each failing that stands between us and the vision. Sometimes, it must be said, Virgo indulges in negative criticism; the world is full of faults and mediocrity, and Virgo’s inability to ignore these things can turn her into a cranky scold. But sometimes, Virgo criticizes because she is enraptured by a vision of greatness that lies only a few punctuation marks away. (more…)