aurus Full Moon Reflections:
by April Elliott Kent
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.
© 2007 April Elliott Kent
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