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Scorpio New Moon: What Comes Next

Long-time readers are familiar with Bodhi, our one-eyed, diabetic, 17-year-old cat. As that brief dossier suggests, she’s been through a lot and has taken us along for the ride.

In May, we nearly lost her to kidney disease, but she bounced back with impressive vigor. Last week, though, we went away for a 36-hour trip to L.A., and came back to a cat that was walking funny and wouldn’t eat. It’s reasonably dire, but she’s recovered from this kind of thing before. So the past few days have been spent trying to figure out whether she wants to rally or whether she wants to go. Right now, she’s sleeping on the floor across the room, and I’m trying to keep an eye on her without getting in her way. And trying not to think too much about what comes next.

It’s Scorpio’s season, when the changing leaves remind us that nothing lives forever and that endings are part of the package, with their own strange beauty. When some beloved creature stands at the door between here and the unknown, we watch, keep company, and try to read the rhythm of their breath, their will, their intention.

My loved ones have almost all died quickly, suddenly—from an accident, a heart attack, a blood clot, surgery. Only my aunt lingered long enough for me to observe the transition from life to afterlife, with its waiting and hard conversations, exhaustion and apparitions. It was my first experience of death as a process, as a land without maps or guidebooks, without a timetable or the comfort of certainty. When we’re sitting with death, Scorpio is the hospice guide who lays a hand on our shoulder and helps us get out of its way so it can do its job. But ruled by Mars, Scorpio is also the surgeon, the paramedic, the good Samaritan who intervenes when survival is possible.

It’s Scorpio’s season, when the changing leaves remind us that nothing lives forever and that endings are part of the package, with their own strange beauty. When some beloved creature stands at the door between here and the unknown, we watch, keep company, and try to read the rhythm of their breath, their will, their intention.

So we’re left trying to understand how to help, what are the right words, and whether we should encourage the fight or the letting go. But following on the heels of Libra, where the powers of rational judgment are refined, Scorpio doesn’t weigh life and death on scales; simply, intuitively, it follows the will of spirit. If we let it, Scorpio will help us get into the right line.

Yesterday, we celebrated the life of a friend who left us one year ago; he, too, made a fast exit. For those of us who knew him and enjoyed our time with him, reorienting in the aftermath has certainly been a process; it’s just that it’s one I’m a lot more familiar with, that long, slow waltz through the first year of milestones, the birthdays and holidays and anniversaries.

Meanwhile, as the Scorpio New Moon approaches, I’m doing a difference dance, the one of waiting and watching, helping where I can. The New Moon chart (Oct. 27, 8:38 pm PDT) points toward Uranus, the god of sudden changes and quick exits; but Mercury is stalling out, ready to reverse direction on Halloween morning, suggesting a reversal of the current situation. And today, the stubborn, heroic little Bodhi shows signs of improvement.

So, I’m waiting to see which way the winds of change will blow. And standing at the door—as all cat owners do—waiting for her to decide whether to go out or stay in.

© 2019 by April Elliott Kent

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12 comments to " Scorpio New Moon: What Comes Next "

  • Lynne

    Cats always know when its time. Good luck April. If you live another 20 years you will not forget the cat. I never have. Its weird, they physically die but don’t leave you. xxxx

  • I enjoy reading your blog. I love the realness. It has been a wild ride for me this week!

  • Jen

    This was such a perfect and powerful read. Your observations on this Scorpio new moon (and season), plus the life journeys of our beloved feline family, resonate deeply. I’m wishing you smooth sailing and a good journey to Bodhi, in whichever realm she chooses.

  • Anna

    Blessings to you and Bodhi, April. That cat is lucky to have such a kind, attentive and thoughtful friend.

  • Natori

    Sweet Bodhi. Thanks for keeping vigil with her, April, and describing it so well. Xoxo

  • Sass

    This is a stunningly beautiful, poetic post. Thank you so much for the fluid, poignant way you speak of the natural movement of beings of all kinds from this life who decide to go home. I was there when my Mom went into hospice, and I remember the excruciating, impossible feeling of helplessness in that there was absolutely NOTHING I could do but find a way through those final days … It was this time of year, too. She was THRILLED to be leaving, as she’d had enough on this plane – and so of course, I wanted to support her in that joy, whilst dealing with the dreaded sensation that I would not see her again in that body, that I would not be able to call her, that I would no longer be sharing with her physically. Although I am aware that there is no such thing as ‘death’, sometimes we feel the absence of that being, as we are still focused in the physical world. I send a thousand blessings to you and your furry friend, whatever she decided to do.

    • April

      Oh Sass… thank you for sharing that story. It’s a terribly, panicky feeling, something weirdly like claustrophobia, to know that you’ll no longer have the option of being with a loved one in the flesh. We know the spirit keeps living, but it’s much tougher to connect to without that physical presence. What a gift for you and your mom to be together through that journey, for you to be able to walk her home. xoxo

  • Ronjathepigeon

    This was beautiful. I have nothing more I can say, except to send some serenity vibes to you and Bodhi, whichever side of the door she chooses.

  • Nathaly

    Blessings to you and dear Boddhi. Thank you for sharing your beautiful sensitive kind soul with the world on your posts. This post moved me to tears. Peaceful tears like your loving waiting for Boddhi to take his time to decide, as cats do, whether to stay in or go out. Much love and gratitude!

  • ann griffen

    Dear April,

    What a soul touching post, Bodhi has choosen you to be part of her last journey whenever she chooses to leave with love, and farewell to her friend.

  • LizAnn

    My heart goes out to you, April. For Bodhi, and for the rapid departure of you kin and friends. It’s funny how we, as humans, tend to want to pass quickly, but those who are left wish for a time to be able to have one last conversation. When a pet consumes time in our lives, we share much with them. Their spirit is humbling.
    I wish you peace in your heart, and head as you go through the next few days. Hugs

  • April

    I want to thank everyone who commented here so sweetly. Loss is an experience we all share, and it meant a lot to me at the time to read your messages, though it’s taken me a few weeks to respond. As you know from subsequent columns, we lost Bodhi a couple of weeks later. It was peaceful and she was ready. We were lucky to have her with us for so long, lucky to still have our cat Spike for awhile longer, and lucky to have hearts that can love. Hugs to you all… xoxo

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