Leo Solar Eclipse: Lights Out

Posted & filed under Eclipses, Leo, Lunar Phases, New Moon.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to The Eclipse to End All Eclipses. Rarely in my lifetime has so much attention been focused on a single celestial event. Mind you, I’m a big eclipse fan; as many of you know, I created a personal eclipse report that I’ve sold for more than two decades. And as the inexorable drumbeat of media has intensified over the last month, so has the demand for these reports.

But over the past few days, even as lines of eclipse-seeking tourists clog the highways of Oregon and social media nearly disintegrates under the weight of eclipse-related posts, the report orders have slowed a bit. One night, our electrical power was abruptly “eclipsed” for five hours. And in a development that, to my superstitious mind, seems somehow related, even our hot and humid August weather has cooled.

As we approach the threshold of the big event, it’s as though the Sun’s power is already dimming. And as the tingling, hair-raising suspense of the eclipse intensifies, maybe it’s time to turn inward, where a darkened sanctuary defies August’s beckoning sunniness.

This Solar Eclipse takes place in Leo, the sign in which self-hood struggles to be fully realized. The Leo self sings, dances, paints, delivers monologues; creation and performance are how it discovers who and what it is, and what it wants to become. When the authentic Leo self is given free rein, it eventually finds its audience. But while validation of an audience is intoxicating, it’s also dangerous. If we begin to spend more time performing for an audience than immersed in the joy of creation, too much time begging for attention and too little absorbed in happy, creative reverie, we lose the connection to our internal, uninterruptible power source.

In all the talk about this eclipse, the joy and creative self-expression that are Leo’s birthright have been conspicuously absent. I realize speaking about joy seems trivial, even sacrilegious, in the face of horrifying displays of racism and threats of nuclear war, and that it’s no substitute for activism. But in celebrating joy and sacred self-hood, we automatically reject the horrors of hatred and warped pride, and affirm the very happiest reasons for living.

Love is not a cure for all that ails us, but it’s the right inspiration for the fight.

When we create, we’re active, engaged, and awake. The first thing I notice during a power cut is how much I rely on entertainment created by others, instead of turning instinctively to making my own creative mischief. How I miss my Netflix and email and Facebook, even though I complain about how they suck too many hours from my days!

But gradually, I surrender to the darkness. I wander through the house lighting candles. I try not to mind that I neglected to charge my phone earlier in the day. I enjoy the challenge of unpacking the dishwasher in the dark. I chat with my husband and pet the cats. I think about something I’m writing and perhaps gain a new perspective on it.

I’ll admit, it’s a relief when the lights come back on and normalcy returns. But part of me feels a bit melancholy, too, as though a soulful conversation has ended too soon. Like a pilgrim in the path of totality after four minutes of magical, eclipsed solar darkness, or even our nightly sleeping selves, exploring the hidden realms of our dreams, we can be changed by darkness.

Power that comes from outside of us is something we take for granted—relying on it in ways we don’t even notice, like the father we didn’t know was a source of strength until he’d gone away, or fearing it, as the bared teeth and saber-rattling of maddened despots. But when the lights go out at the Leo Solar Eclipse, we get the chance to reconnect with the solar god within ourselves, to reclaim the throne as monarchs of our own sacred realms.

This eclipse symbolizes something vitally important, particularly to the United States, where it’s visible over a large swath of the troubled and divided nation. In recent days, the news has turned uglier than ever and the tone of discourse verges on hysterical. It’s as though the Sun itself is resisting its coming eclipse by doubling-down on the heat and ferocity of ego, swagger, and rage.

But the eclipse is coming. And as we draw closer to the quiet holiness of the eclipse moment, something sweet, serious, and profoundly heartfelt is trying to emerge. Make room for it. Light a candle, and offer a little prayer. Shut out the chaos for awhile, and tune into your own frequency. All is well in your own kingdom. Decide what you will create there.

© 2017 April Elliott Kent

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15 Responses to “Leo Solar Eclipse: Lights Out”

  1. Donna Frahmann

    “Love is not a cure for all that ails us, but it’s the right inspiration for the fight.”

    This, this, a thousand times this! It’s the piece I’ve been searching for as I try to come to terms with everything that’s happening in the World Out There. I can’t thank you enough, April! I was floundering pretty badly last past week, and this pulls everything into focus for me.

    Many thanks, and know that you’re very much appreciated!

    Reply
  2. charlene j ozell

    I always enjoy your writings April – your heartfelt wisdom and am grateful! xoxo

    Reply
  3. helen

    i gave up fighting… i decided love is the cure for everything (scientists will eventually prove it is the divine substance that Catherine Ponder talks about in her books).so – blessings to everything and everyone. and good luck with getting back in the flow.. yeeessss, i like that… go into the dark… reconnect with your self… xoxo

    Reply
  4. Trish

    I always look forward to your bits of wisdom. My son and several friends are Leo’s and I have a Leo Ascendant. So the impact is a bit more for those I love. I live in the Pacific NW and thus we are getting 90% of the eclipse. Several of my family lives on the Oregon coast where it is 100%. One of them near Newport said their gas stations ran out of gas on Thursday night and the stores were out of most all groceries. So totally strange. And the cars are streaming in from all over.

    Reply
  5. Dee

    April,

    Thank you for this very powerful post.

    Blessings, light and love!

    Reply
  6. Anne

    Thank you, dear April, for your wise and inspiring words.

    With love from the Netherlands,

    Anne

    Reply
  7. Isabella

    thank you, april, for your wisdom and your courage in ‘stripping down’ in front of all of us, telling us about your bad days and your insecurities… you are such an inspiration. as donna frahmann wrote, know that you’re much appreciated. hope you can feel all the love we hold for you <3. when in doubt, grab your fellow miniature feline and look into her eyes: I'm sure that she will work her cat magic 🙂 and remind you about your solar essence and your power to just 'be'.
    a big hug and best wishes for this once-in-a-lifetime experience tomorrow over there in the US!

    Reply
  8. Les

    Reminds me of one summer evening when I was living in my last apartment and the transformer down the street blew in rather spectacular fashion. Then the whole street was quiet. I lit a candle and sat on the porch in the sweet darkness and quiet. Just crickets. Then my housemate came home all talking loudly and banging around and finally the electricity came back on, but until then it was glorious!

    Enjoy the eclipse! Thanks for your wise words.

    Reply
  9. Sandra

    “And as we draw closer to the quiet holiness of the eclipse moment, something sweet, serious, and profoundly heartfelt is trying to emerge. Make room for it ”
    This is what impressed me the most. A short while ago, I found my self reading some news from the USA, and it was not pretty, but for some reason I found myself giggling inside and I felt ashamed. And now I read your post and I understand. Its as if the ” festering boil” has finally burst and now comes the healing. All uglyness surfaces and shows its’ face for all to see and make way for change, for now ugliyness is visible making change much easier. The universe is wise, oh so wise. So thank you for this insight

    Reply
  10. Mimi

    I cant thank-you enough for offering such wisdom seen through a different ” set of glasses”. I have leo moon at 25 degrees and it has been very intense/sad /lonely time. I went through the eclipse alone and felt a deep deep isolation..and an almost primitive feeling of anxiety over the unknown. As I watched the thousands happily viewing the event on TV ,to together, it only intensified that alone ness. The total silence, no birds, bees, even hot weather bugs.. How I wish I had read your post before this evening…but am trusting that what I went through was part of a much larger walk for me. As I also have my Pluto in Leo and all in 12th house…I am aware that it is yet another time to go deep..I am tired .But, hearing your words has helped me return to the search I am on, with the reminder that I am not alone, and that the Universe is always there to take me by the hand…even though it so often does not appear so…Thank-you for reminding me April, Thank-you so much

    Reply
  11. Jen

    What a timely and wise post! Lights out and lights back on… Cheers to the illumination within us all!

    Reply

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