Jessica Shepherd's Blog, page 25

“I’m harboring a fugitive, a defector of a kind, and she lives in my soul and drinks of my wine, and I’d give my last breath to keep us alive.” – Fugitive by Indigo Girls

Every year at about this time I feel my skin start to crawl. Feeling housebound and earthbound, I want to do something wild, different, subversive. Initially, this leads to an impromptu song, dance or art session. Last night I was Alison Moyet singing Midnight at the top of my lungs to my reflection (and my dog). Being subversive means shaking up the establishment, yet with revolutionary Uranus located on my Libra Ascendant, the social order I continually need to upend is my own way of moving, thinking and being in the world.  So I get crazy. I shake up my routines. I do something that makes my husband exclaim “Who are you?!” then lovingly, “…I never know what you’re going to do next.” I change the station, shock the system, to restore balance.

I’ve been talking with a number of clients lately who are experiencing the Uranus opposition. This happens around the ages 40-42 and is known as “mid-life crisis”. Classically, this is the time where the straight-laced guy buys a sportscar, or the homemaker goes back to school to get that degree she really wanted. Frankly, the definition of the mid-life crisis itself could stand a reinvention, because this is not what it looks like for many of us. To borrow from (Aquarian) Gloria Steinem’s book title, the revolution is from within. It can be the way we’re held hostage of our internal dialogue; we all have a SuperEgo keeping us in check- a governing body that tells us how we should act, behave or be –most often when we want to do something that might garner judgment from others. It is often the way we keep repeating the same old patterns of dysfunction in our life. Or the way we tell our self lies about who we are. Maybe it’s a bit easier to identify who our authentic self is, and is not, when a partner, government, job or boss oppresses us. At core, what we are all freedom-fighting for, especially at mid-life, is our own legitimacy. Our right to: be our self, to have our own loves, interests, desires, expression. The people, systems and institutions that stand in the way of our authentic self-interest show us where we need more love, individually, collectively.

I believe we’re each harboring a fugitive, “a defector of a kind”. It’s our authentic self, extradited to an island of one. Maybe we’re afraid of not fitting in, or belonging, being rejected or not being able to survive in a world that doesn’t support who we are. Maybe it’s always on the run, hiding what it perceives as different, because our survival once depended on it. Or maybe our authentic self gets set aside for providing for, supporting our family.  But oh, oh, oh the delicious life-affirming freedom of breaking the expectations that shackle us, doing something unpredictable, surprising even our self. A disruptive mid-life reorientation isn’t necessary. It takes only a wild hair, an idea, and a free Sunday afternoon. Maybe a convertible, an open road, a spontaneous weekend getaway, alone, goes against all the “established rules” in your relationship. Or maybe attending a nude figure drawing class goes against the inner rulebook of propriety your parents and church implanted in you (note to self: if you shock your loved ones, you’re on the right track).

Our social world is trying to address oppression, big time, as groups who have been classically oppressed are crying freedom. I read recently that the greatest social injustice movement of our century is women’s equality. Also, note the rising “politically correct” movement where you practically can’t say anything without offending someone. Yet all this needs to be hashed out, if somewhat inelegantly, awkwardly, painfully. We’re in the soup of change. Change is good and it’s hard.

Mars squares Scorpio at this New Moon. Like doing psychic surgery whilst being the surgeon our self, “truth” arrives sharply at this New Moon and it may cut deep. I had an interaction with someone who said something about me that stung. Despite being patently untrue it cut to the bone because it mirrored a fear inside me that was a part of an ancient story about how different I am from everyone else. If someone feels inimical at this New Moon we may need to emotionally dissociate, fight the urge to retaliate, in order to allow the interaction to reveal what’s unhealed inside. Acknowledging that it’s (a) all just information coming in, and (b) it’s not personal (it rarely is), takes the sting out so we can receive this as a teaching moment, a catalyst for our healing and growth.

Aquarius New Moon is a time to love what is real, true and different in us, to liberate our self from shackles of judgment and shoulds — external and internal. Because let’s face it: we all have patterns of oppression that keep us in a prison so high, locked up so tight and far from our own freedom that, if we don’t admit that we are our own jailers, that we are indeed our selves, imprisoned -and-that we also hold the key to our release, we may need something more radical, say, a bolt of lightening to free us. How to know you’re oppressed? A case of the blahs and blues: that’s your soul, aching for freedom. Feeling this, I just did an Artist’s Way exercise called Your Secret Desire, in which I listed 10 secret desires, then long-hand wrote about one of them extensively. The effect was instantly liberating; the very next day I had an adventure. Venus, Patroness of Pleasure, flirts with Jupiter, God of Freedom, at this New Moon. Shouldn’t you?

These times are confusing. So much needs changing that it’s hard to know where to put our change-making energy, or how to affect anything, really. In an old interview, David Bowie (Aquarius Rising) said that the revolution of the 60’s made it easy to be subversive- there were clear villains and clear heroes- but nowadays, he said, those roles aren’t clear, which makes it harder to know what to do. I have one idea. We can dance. We can sing. We can heal. We can… one by one… break free.

I stood without clothes

I danced in the sand

I was aching with freedom

Kissing the damned

I said remember this

Is how it should be – Fugitive, Indigo Girls

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Art: Dancing Alone by thailinh

Saturn’s transit through the first house, while a relief from the challenging twelfth, was far from roses and ponies. While my personal account struck a chord with many readers, more than a handful also wrote to me describing how much harder the first house Saturn transit was, than the twelfth, for them. The common thread for those readers involved feelings of depression, uncertainty and anxiety. 

No Saturn house transit works in a vacuum, each builds on the last. When Saturn entered my twelfth house, I lost steam physically, emotionally, spiritually; when Saturn entered my first, I rejoiced with the promise of new life, spent a lot of time streamlining so I could work on rebuilding myself and still managed to make a new career move. Yet it took a lot of time and energy to market my new business, and since energy is not in abundance during a Saturn first house transit, I knew I couldn’t keep it up. As Saturn moved into my second house, I decided to choose with my values, of a sustainable workload and self-care, instead of ambition to grow this new empire. Since the astrology textbooks often talk about tightened financial belts when Saturn enters the second, with that decision, I expected as much, although, according to Rob Hand, “this is not necessarily true, although it can be. If material wealth is keeping you from discovering your true values, then you are likely to experience financial losses.” Consistent with choosing to work in alignment with my values, nothing like the above happened. Instead, I experienced personal victories around my self-worth and ability.

Not Only Money, Honey

When we speak of the resources necessary to our survival we’re speaking for the second house, specifically our second house. Humans, being different, have different ideas about what makes them feel secure, with different dollar amounts and valuations, but without an understanding of what we have (talents, gifts, skills, values, abilities), and how we can put that to use to survive in the world, we will feel insecure and experience lagging confidence– a second house problem.

Enter Saturn transiting the second. Saturn prods us to figure out what we “have”. These may be bankable, like we are technically proficient, or we may think they aren’t -maybe we are good at encouraging others. Do we value those in our self? If we feel we have valuable internal resources, we tend to manifest those abilities in terms of external resources, i.e., being paid money. This is the time to take stock of what we have, in every sense of the word, from the condition of our bank account, to how well our car runs, to our self-esteem – which directly affects what we feel we have to offer others. What are your talents, gifts, innate resources and skills? What is it that you do exceptionally well? What do you value, spiritually, psychologically, morally? These second house questions take on importance during Saturn’s transit through the second, and our answer determines the outcome.

Consolidation and Recognition of Resources

Your survival skills, your ability to think: “I’m going to make it after all” (just like the Mary

Tyler Moore theme song!) is directly linked to how you are doing with our second house planets. Often people with afflicted natal second house planets, or the south node here, really have to work on releasing survival fears and believing that we can survive anything. During Saturn’s transit, any financial dependencies need to be clearly faced and assessed for their durability and overall health, while compassionately acknowledging that humans are naturally interdependent and some of us have more earning ability than others. I’ve known people with the natal south node here who, due to health reasons, are financial dependents to a large degree. The same inequity could occur between a stay at home parent and “the breadwinner”. In a culture that links earning ability to self-worth, transiting Saturn won’t let us get away with sweeping how we really feel about our earning abilities under the carpet. We may need to bolster our self-esteem. We may need to find a way to make peace with the financial inequities that bother us in our primary relationships.

Money fears are inextricably linked to survival fears. Especially if we have a personal history of poverty, ill health or not having enough resources, like food or shelter, to thrive, Saturn transiting the second pits us against our questions about our own financial viability, perhaps forcing us to see economic disparities or, historically, where we actually didn’t have enough. This Saturn transit coincided with a major Pluto transit, for me, and for a period of time much of my healing work revolved around not having enough money and resources during childhood. That said, our survival skills are not only measured in money; we have inner resources. And those need our awareness.

“Humans are not born with natural skills for survival,” writes Joanne Wickenberg, in the introduction to the second house section of her excellent book entitled In Search of a Fulfilling Career. “Skills for survival must be developed…skills that aren’t always inherent…skills that require effort and adjustment.” Joanne goes on to say that: “Many astrologers have failed to recognize the deeper issues of this very important house in describing personal strengths and skills need to maintain a career. These skills and strengths are defined by the sign on your second house cusp…developed through the experiences described by the house and the sign of the second house ruler…(and) planets in the second house describe other personality functions that need to be expressed productively.” Her description is totally consistent with my experience. I have Scorpio on my second house cusp, its ruling planet, Pluto, in my twelfth in a tight t-square to my Sun and my Mars. Neptune, Ceres and Juno in Sagittarius all reside in my second house and is quincunx my Sun. Survival has been a lifelong issue for me. That said, extreme experiences (Pluto t-square) have developed psychological resources and astrology (Scorpio) to help others through adversity and that’s what I’m paid to do. My connection to the realm of spirit and archetypes, like astrology, (Neptune), my ability to see the big picture and offer perspective and possibilities (Sagittarius) has helped me to disseminate and publish spiritual information that is healing and nurturing (Ceres). My marriage (Juno) has both taught and allowed me to value my more intangible qualities– spiritual skills and strengths I’ve developed— instead of measuring my worth by money.

We each have inherent gifts, talents, resources and skills, but we must recognize them! As for money advice? As Rob Hand says, “Be careful with your finances, and be economical. Above all do not become concerned with them any more than you have to in order to function in your everyday world.” If you need a financial colonic, there’s an excellent book called Your Money or Your Life, too.

Self-Esteem, Risk Taking and Experiencing a Victory

One of the things I often say when working with clients who have a strongly-teneted second house is thus: You have a need to experience at least several personal victories in life, victories that are going to require you to take risks. For Neptune and Jupiter, what’s required is a leap of faith. For Pluto, it’s being willing to give up everything and start over. For Saturn, it’s trusting in one’s own authority (difficult for so many second house Saturn natives). For the Sun, it’s a lifelong process of not underestimating what one is capable of doing and becoming. If we don’t undertake the second house invitation we are plagued with a form of insecurity and anxiety born of not actually living our full potential. This often manifests as making “safe” career choices where we are promised a retirement package but live our lives feeling unfulfilled, underutilized, bored. The artist becomes a banker; the poet, a lawyer. You know the story because you’ve seen or heard it a million times before. To truly lead a fulfilling life we need to walk to the edge of the diving board and jump.

Saturn transiting the second house begs us to take a risk into territory that feels edgy, unfamiliar and even a little scary. For me, I decided to jump into self-publishing. It was such a huge learning curve, but it is the book (Karmic Dates and Momentary Mates) I’m most proud of because I did it all myself. Okay, almost all of it: I hired helpers who had skills I didn’t have. Helpers, Erin Sullivan says in her book Saturn in Transit, surround us during the Saturn second house transit. Any time we attempt to do something risky and scary, other co-operators are standing by to help.

Which brings me to another lesson inherent to this passage. Saturn wants us to grow in resourcefulness. We can do this by taking what we already have and using it in the material world. Because of the earthy nature of both Saturn and the second, I found that there’s an agreeableness with this archetype and house combination. Once we embrace the risk aspect, actions taken, while not effortless, feel inherently doable. Since Saturn rules our fear, and the second, survival resources, by now you might notice that the biggest fear here is fear itself. So don’t sell out. Trust in what you have, internal (talents, skills), and external. Make choices from your true values.

The Possession That Will Not Leave You

“Traditional texts call the second house ‘movable possessions’. This, I suppose means we can pack them up and take them with us. What more moveable a resource do we possess than our concept of the value of our own self? When Saturn is transiting the second we gain insight into patterns that have established the bases upon which we build our values, loves and worth.” -Erin Sullivan, Saturn in Transit

As a health coach and someone who lives with the reality of surviving chronic illness 24/7, I would be remiss if I did not mention the connection to health and the second house. Your health is a resource; it is what you have that only totally influences your ability to earn money and survive. Saturn transiting the second is a good time to take stock of your health for that reason. Your health may be a gift, a possession, resource… but it is not a given. Your health can leave you at any time.

Which brings me to the one possession that will never leave you: You. I was talking to April while visiting her in San Diego last spring when I learned she has natal Saturn in her second house. Eager to hear from an expert about how this actually worked, we traded notes. April described how early experiences with loss taught her that fortunes are precarious, that since people in her life might not be around forever she could only rely on herself. At the time of our discussion I’d just passed through the proverbial eye-of-the-public-speaking-needle, having been brought to my knees by a risk I had taken, and losing all my fears of judgment and imminent death in the process, a new shift in my psyche had occurred. When I said, “I am in a new place. I care far more about taking care my self, and what I think of me, than what others think of me,” I knew it was a shift that had substance and staying power. April reinforced this with, “Yes, you’ve got it. That’s what Saturn in the second is about.” I walked away with a gem of insight: Saturn in the second wants one thing above else, for you to take care of numero uno, to stand on your own two feet and feel the gravitas of that.

We all have something singular within our possession that no one else has: Our essential self. The Universe or the Cosmos or God had enough confidence in our ability to support that self that we were given life. If we trust in our self, if we trust in the fact that we were given what we already need to thrive, it’s impossible to let our self down (can you hear my Neptune preaching, here?). Sometimes our survival skills aren’t always apparent, and as Joanne Wickenberg said, even inherent. In other words, just because we’re given our second house gifts doesn’t mean we will open them, take them out and utilise them. But the second house Saturn invitation is to take stock of what we have and do exactly that. When we do, when we discover what we can do, when we take inventory of what we do have and how to nurture and care for that, instead of focusing on what we don’t, we earn the most precious commodity going in this world: a substantial sense of worth. And that is priceless.

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Have you ever experienced trauma? If you’ve ever felt: 1) powerless, 2) alone 3) threatened and 4) surprised by the unexpected, you have. Physiologically, when trauma occurs, our body goes into a state of emergency and the “freeze response” gets activated (if we can fight or flight, generally we have a sense of power).  This freeze response must then be either discharged or repressed.

Animals “shake off” their traumas. Maybe you’ve seen geese get in a territorial fight over their mate, then flap their wings and swim off as if nothing happened. Or perhaps you’ve seen the video of the polar bear shaking off the trauma of being stunned and captured (to read more about this, Peter Levine wrote a book called Taming the Tiger, exploring the question “why do humans have stress related illness while animals do not?”). While animals utilise this shaking mechanism to discharge trauma, humans don’t. We need to find ways of moving/processing the energy out.

It’s not surprising that many of our traumas get repressed; we dissociate from them because they’re too painful. Trauma expert Dr. Richard Scaer (yes, that’s his real name) says all the events surrounding a memory of trauma are stored as an energy capsule in our energy body. If the traumatic event was a car accident, we might store external details like the weather, the sound of the sirens, the color of the car next to us, the song playing on the radio, the smell of leaking gasoline etc. We will also store internal details, like how we felt, and the belief about life and our self that we formed as a result of this experience.

As we age, our trauma capsules start to leak and become re-activated by everyday interactions and events (it takes energy to store trauma, and we have less energy as we age). In the traumatic car accident example, one day twenty-years later we may become overwhelmed with anxiety and fear while pumping gas on a rainy day (the smell of the gas and the weather being triggers for the accident). As another example,  let’s say we grew up in a household of “yellers” and every time we fight with our partner we become extremely agitated, afraid, insecure and unable to think clearly. Even though we don’t consciously remember it, all the times our parent yelled is being triggered. We’re being held captive by an earlier, younger self.

Here’s another analogy.  Your computer runs “programs” in the background all the time. If you’re running big or multiple programs, it’s an energetic drag on the entire system; your computer works exceptionally slow, and sometimes your entire system crashes. The same happens for us. Most of us have negative core belief programs installed on our hard drive.  Our negative core beliefs are programs that take energy to manage and so compromise the rest of our life energy. As we age, just like an old computer, we become less effective at dealing with energy-consuming programs. When this happens, things that used to be okay, that we could once overlook, start to really stress us out. We experience mental or physical health issues, or have a hard time bouncing back from life- stressors that other people seem to be able to take in stride. Our systems are compromised.

When I’m caught in a “complex” of trauma feelings, I feel as if I’m being taken over, or possessed, by an over-emotional swampy entity whose feelings are totally disproportionate to the reality of the situation. And I am! I am being taken over by a former self, and all of her experiences and beliefs. The good news is: None of us have to keep re-enacting and re-playing old traumas. Emotional Freedom Technique and Matrix Reimprinting offer extremely gentle ways of uncovering and discharging the energy holding them in place (read more about EFT/Matrix here).

Although this is essentially a wellness post, I want to write a little about my experience from an astrological point of view. When I found myself having my second EFT session (my first was 7 years before), transiting Uranus in Aries was attempting to hit the emotional reset button by conjoining my Aries Moon, located on my seventh house cusp, ruling my tenth house. T. Jupiter in Leo also was making a trine. I was tired of the same old crippling public speaking phobia; I wanted freedom (says Jupiter and Uranus!). And I had become so hyper-vigilant to anything stressful, I was overworking my adrenals, the glands that pump out adrenaline (Aries= adrenals).

I experienced freedom using EFT/Matrix Reimprinting for public speaking fears. But the story had only begun. Pluto in Capricorn had begun squaring my Moon and trauma capsules started exploding all over the place, in seemingly normal, everyday interactions. Receiving unkind emails or mild criticism, for instance, wrecked my entire day.  My emotional life became so incredibly demanding and intense that I could barely make it till lunchtime without being triggered. With MR especially, I was able to “go back in time” and see that the true origins of my emotional responses were rooted in unhealed baggage and negative beliefs I’d been carrying around.

It was a bumpy, up and down, process. My impatient Aries Moon didn’t want to “waste time” tapping (too busy, too much to do, it won’t work! she’d say). She was angry, annoyed and resistant to it all, which aggravated my fibromyalgia pain. But I truly had no choice, my strong emotions were disabling me from doing anything else, and by directly facing the anger and impatience around my bodily needs and emotions, I was able to make a link between fibromyalgia pain to the anger and resistance itself. In my Matrix journeying sessions I kept running into the core belief: “no one cares what I want or feel” and likewise, anger.  I had spent a lifetime unconsciously assuming my wants, needs and emotions wouldn’t be honored and now I was repeating this pattern within myself, by getting aggravated by and pushing away my emotional and physical needs. Can you imagine all the ways I kept reinforcing my own misery, and invisibility, by running this belief? Ugh.

Pluto transits bring us to our knees and force us to deal with what we most resist facing. I joke that EFT/MR opened Pandora’s box for me, though in reality it was truly Pluto’s doing, and EFT/MR gave me the tools to process what was happening. With MR, I journeyed back in time and visited places in my history where my younger self was suffering and gave her new beliefs and resources. By persistently working on myself, I eventually stopped being triggered 24/7, and when I was, I recognized the issue more quickly (oh, this is related to a core issue for me!). Then, I’d go back into the Matrix and identify the situation where I was still in hurt and misunderstanding.

My niece, Ella Rae, and I at a museum visit, Jan 2016.

At this point I want to say something about the mind-body connection. I do not chalk up my fibromyalgia syndrome to “stuffed anger” any more than I do to living on a toxic planet. I think it’s dangerously disempowering to play blame the victim by suggesting illness is self-created. Would you open up your Louise Hay book and tell someone who has a broken leg that they must have issues with moving forward in life? Just no. That would be unkind. However, we all have a personal responsibility i.e., an invitation “to respond to the best of our ability” to our life problems, and due to the time I’ve invested in EFT/MR, I’ve learned to manage pain… and that feels borderline miraculous. Previously, when I experienced a fibro flare-up, I’d spiral into a dark place, feeling unable to influence my pain levels. Now, I tap. My sense of power and control over my pain levels and well-being has radically changed.

When Uranus-Pluto started transiting my Moon, an astute astrologer friend asked me a great “intentional transits” question: “What’s the best possible outcome you could hope for from this transit?” I answered something along the lines of feeling empowered and “take on the world” confident (I imagined my self in full warrior gear, feeling victorious — Moon in Aries!) In very concrete ways, transiting Uranus in Aries and Pluto in Capricorn have been pressuring all of us to heal and evolve. For me, as Pluto continues its transit, I’ll undoubtedly discover more work to be done. But now I have the tools. And that makes all the difference.

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People have been exiting the Earth in record numbers, lately. If there’s a welcome home party in the afterlife, there’s surely going to be some great music and conversation. Naturally, the question of the hour is, why is everyone dying? This isn’t a new phenomenon. The past six or so years have been demanding. Uranus and Pluto, still in their wide square, continues to pressure us to “evolve or die”, to face our shadows, heal our wounds, and live more authentically and true to our self. Energetically, this hasn’t been an easy ride for anyone, and with the relentless burden and strain to evolve, the human vessel gets tired, worn out. Maybe that’s why some have been called to finish their healing on the other side. For those remaining, life goes on, though it’s different. Like a ravenous appetite after the fever of a long illness has burned off, we re-enter life changed, hungry to really live. When I visited Paris after the bombings last year, it was still Paris, city of light, but moreso. People were going out, dining and drinking champagne at midnight, celebrating life. To my mind, the dying want those left behind to be more Parisian: To more fully live. Fulfill our self. Celebrate life.

My husband John and I have a tradition of checking in with one another about how on track we are in leading the lives we want to lead. This can happen at any time but spontaneously occurs around the death of a notable. We compare notes around the old “If I knew I was going to die in a year would I do anything differently?” question, striving to answer it truthfully while holding each other accountable when one of us starts to compare our thimble- sized accomplishments to say, David Bowie’s (“Is that your ego talking?” usually clears that one up). Last year, John decided that from now on that he would only wear red socks because he liked the statement it made (“now here’s a man who’s serious about style”). He holds a 1950’s style cocktail hour every evening, and although I rarely partake, it’s a joy to behold his mixology joy (did you know there’s a slew of Bowie cocktails? “The Ziggy Stardust”, “The Black Star”, and the straightforward “David Bowie”?) Like a check and balance system, Death’s gift is the reminder to play, live, enjoy… and if you don’t, you’re not taking Death seriously.

We tend to live as if we have lots of time. “If you knew you had only a year to live would you do anything differently?” Would you finally: leave that relationship, start the blog, visit Machu Picchu, re-connect with a precious friend? Are you waiting for a divine power to give you permission to live? In the wake of his passing, I read a Stephen Levine interview circulating. Stephen was the author of among others, Who Dies?, a book about dying I read while volunteering at an AIDS hospice a lifetime ago. Stephen devoted his life to helping people become more conscious about their death. In the article he spoke about not waiting to live, but living this year as if this is your last, which he did as a formal spiritual practice (he was Buddhist). One thing he noticed while doing the practice is how vain we are. “We are so attached to how we appear in the world, in relationships,” he said, “Simple embarrassment so often guides the way we interact with others… I think we are embarrassed by how much pain we have been in throughout our entire lives. Because we are embarrassed, we don’t share this truth with one another… We need to have mercy on ourselves. We all feel embarrassed. Actually, when we do speak about these things, when we do share our embarrassment, we experience relief.”

It’s been touching/heartbreaking reading about the love shared between some of these power couples (David & Iman, Stephen and Ondrea). Yes, this kind of mythic love exists– ain’t love grand? Venus enters Capricorn at this lunation, shining light on the durability, realism, maturity and success of our love bonds. I have a friend whose relationship dynamic is that when one person is feeling successful the other will bring them down by being unsupportive or dismissive of their accomplishments. When one feels unseen and un-special, no one’s allowed to be. Their relationship suffers a Leo deficiency.  To thrive, we need a supporting cast of people who really see our “star” –and you can’t power up your star from an empty battery. There are people in life who will magnify your light and there are people who will dim it. Only you know who those are. This isn’t a judgment, but a statement of fact. Be around people who rise to the occasion, and you rise, too.

It is a relief to allow our selves to be human, to let go of the illusion of invincibility, or a pain-free existence, what or whoever is holding us back from living. We can can choose to be vulnerable, and to move on from those who restrict or close down our heart. Leo Full Moon asks: Are we living as colorfully, as fully, as well as we can? Are we expressing our creative potential? Do our accomplishments reflect our true values? Are we loving and loved? And are we having any fun, yet? When I was at the hospice I worked with a transgender AIDS patient who, although actively dying, every morning put on glitter make-up, fishnets, sequins. She loved Diet Cokes, cigarettes, gossip and getting her hair done. She was a joy. With so much death lingering in the air, there’s an invitation here to ride our lives as we would a wild mustang horse, to feel our freedom more fully, to taste our life, feel the wind whip through our hair, to ride on… Our mortality is watching.

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Today Moonkissd.com features another guest post from astrologer Lindsay Conover. Enjoy!

I woke up the other morning to the saddening news about the passing of David Bowie after an 18 month battle with cancer. Remembering him has brought back many memories of moments in my life of appreciating his creative work. He maintained relevance for half a century; continuously reinventing himself with a vision that transcended the boundaries of age, which allowed so many people to enjoy his various forms of creativity. The research for this blog post took me on yet another David Bowie journey, resulting in more insight into who he was and an appreciation for the immensity of his creative contribution to the world.

Born on January 8th, 1947 at 9:00am in Brixton, England, UK1, David Bowie was a Capricorn Sun (17”15′), with a Leo Moon ( 3” 50′), and an Aquarius Ascendant (3” 24′).1 The following quote from Bowie shows a complete amalgam of his Sun, Moon, and Ascendant combination in his chart: “I am a very disciplined person…discipline doesn’t mean that you have breakfast a 8 o’clock in the morning and you’re out of the house by half past eight. Discipline is that if you conceive something, then you decide if it’s worth following through, and if it’s worth following through, then you follow it through to it’s logical conclusion and do it to the best of your ability; that’s the discipline…whether there are areas in it that are not to ones liking, you have to go right the way through it, do it, and that’s what I do.”2

Tried and true to his Capricorn nature, the ambitious David Bowie completed his 26th album, titled ‘Blackstar’, during early 2015, while battling cancer. He strategically released it just two days before his death on his 69th birthday. Interestingly, transiting Saturn in Sagittarius was beginning to trine his natal Saturn in Leo on the day he released the title track of the album in November 2015.3 This transit would have supported his effort to produce new work. It also may have given him a practical outlook about the transition he was facing.

Although David Bowie was a Capricorn, his Sun was located in the 12th house of his chart. This actually made him more of a reflective person, who may have preferred being out of the spotlight; a bit of a contrast to his Leo Moon which craved it! In a 2003 interview with Michael Parkinson aired on BBC, Bowie said, “I’m not a secretive person, but I live a quite private life, my wife and I. And we just find that we are just happiest in a place where we can remain and live our life on a day to day basis very anonymously.”4 The 12th house is not an unusual place to find the Sun of the mystic (Bowie was once a practicing Buddhist), artist, or healer. It is the process of connecting with spirituality, imagination, or compassion that draws them into the transcendent, which 12th house Sun people long for. As well as being an artist, I believe David Bowie was a healer. He managed to help others by tapping into the collective unconscious (a 12th house area of life) through his creative expression, giving a voice to those shared feelings that show us we are all connected. He once said, in a 2002 interview with Guillaume Durand, “The content of most of what I write, there’s been a continuity of alienation and isolation throughout everything I’ve written. If there’s one thing that I talk about, it’s these slightly negative kinds of thoughts.”5 In this way he helped others feel understood and less alone in the world.

In addition to having his Sun in the 12th house, David Bowie had a wide square to his Sun from Neptune. He experimented with drugs for inspiration (another potential 12th house Sun trait) and the square from Neptune amplified his struggle with addiction issues in the mid 70’s. At that time in his life, Bowie said that he lived on “red peppers, cocaine, and milk.”6 He was eventually able to move on from his struggle and was always able to channel the creative aspect that the square offered him.

David Bowie’s Capricorn Sun conjuncted his Mars in Capricorn (within 1 degree). This combination added to his drive and ambition and gave him the courage (Mars) and ability to act on his inspiration. The Sun-Mars combination led him being a bit confrontational at times. It’s not surprising that one of the stories we hear about Bowie is that his permanently dilated eye, that made his eyes appear to be two different colors, resulted from a fight as a kid. Ultimately we can see that the combination of his Sun conjunct Mars in Capricorn in the 12th house led to the amount of creative work he produced.

David Bowie’s Venus in Sagittarius conjuncted his Midheaven (within less than 1 degree). The Midheaven represents the career, aim in life, and how one is viewed as an authority. To have Venus at the Midheaven indicates he would be recognized as an authority for his his creative expression (Venus) which was expressed in a way that broadened the horizons of others (Sagittarius), and let’s face it, he was charming and beautiful to look at as he worked; other indications of a Venus/Midheaven conjunction! His Leo Moon, in the 7th house, trined his Venus (within 1 degree) indicating that he was also able to infuse his craft with drama (Leo) and emotion (Moon) that the public could relate to and at the same time that fed a need (Moon) in himself to be recognized (Leo). His Moon was conjunct Saturn in Leo, giving him excellent timing and calculating control over his public image. Pluto, the planet of regeneration, in Leo was nearby, aiding in an ability to continually regenerate his image.

David Bowie’s Sun in Capricorn was in wide conjunction to his Mercury in Capricorn (and inconjunct his Saturn in Leo). This conjunction infused his ability to shine (Sun) with communication (Mercury). As much as his work was adored by the public, he once said, in a 2002 interview for his “Heathen” album, “I hate my singing voice.”7 Can you imagine? Someone who’s talent is loved by so many felt that way about himself? But, those planets in Capricorn made him critical of and less confident in that aspect of himself, yet he might say, just realistic.

During my research I discovered that David Bowie had a striking sense of humor! “Many Capricorns have mastered the art of making people laugh. Their sense of humor can be of the deadpan variety—they’re generally excellent at keeping a straight face. They can be bitingly sarcastic, too.”7 His Leo Moon added a playful sense to his humor.

But I think what all who appreciated David Bowie can agree about the most is that he was a creative genius. Bowie’s Ascendant was in the sign of Aquarius and his Sun in Capricorn was inconjunct Uranus in Gemini (within 1 degree). This lent to his uniqueness that we see expressed throughout his career. This combination gave him the ability to tap into the ‘future’, so to speak, and to bring innovative concepts into his creative self expression that resonated with and inspired his fans. He was known as an innovator; particularly for his work in the 1970’s. His androgynous and other worldly appearance was an iconic element of his image.9 Some quotes from BBC.com about his passing sum up the Aquarian/Uranian themes in his chart: “Where before, artists and groups either evolved their musical style and appearance or remained unchanging, David Bowie seemed to be in permanent revolution. He was a great singer, songwriter, performer, actor, producer and collaborator. But beyond all that, at the very heart of the matter, David Bowie was quite simply – quite extraordinarily – cool.”10 And David Bowie once said of himself, “A chameleon will change the color of it’s skin to fit into an environment. I’ve done quite the reverse! I’m greedy for something that sparks me off and gets me thinking. One tends to find that on the outside of the mainstream. Once you get sucked into the middle of the mainstream, it’s tyrannical in there; it’s despotic. I don’t want to be ruled by that blandness. There is nothing in there, in the mainstream, that I want in my life. It’s just not what I want.”11 Spoken like the true independent spirit and visionary that he was!

For those of us who follow astrology, we know that Pluto has been in the sign of Capricorn since February 2008. The exact conjunction of transiting Pluto to David Bowie’s Sun would have occurred mid-march of 2016, but Pluto was moving within a degree of his Sun next month. Even so, all Capricorns have been feeling the pull of Pluto, bringing the Plutonian experiences of death and regeneration into their lives; urging a release and letting go toward a spiritual regeneration. And in David Bowie’s case, it was a literal letting go that was being called for.

Uranus in Aries had also been a player in his chart for quite some time, squaring his Mars and Sun in Capricorn beginning in June 2014 and continuing until his death. Biographer, Wendy Leigh who wrote Bowie, The Biography published in 2014, claimed David Bowie had six heart attacks in recent years.12 This is sad but not shocking news for those kinds of transits. In astrology the Sun rules the heart and Uranus rules the electrical system within the body, which makes the heart pump. The stressful combination of the aspects may have contributed to his health issues.

And finally, the New Moon in Capricorn occurred on January 9th, 2016 at 19”13′. Often the faster moving planets, such as the Sun or the Moon, set off the larger chart configurations occurring by transit or progression. Such is the case with David Bowie, as the Moon conjuncted his Mars and Sun at that time, setting off the transiting conjunction from Pluto and the transiting square from Uranus to those planets in his chart.

David Bowie’s chart was tied to the Uranus-Pluto square that has been occurring since 2012 as Uranus was squaring his Sun/Mars conjunction and Pluto was beginning to conjunct it. As I reflect on his passing, I recognize something big has been pushing me; nagging at me to be more real, speak my truth, shine. He showed us the true spirit of letting go (Pluto) and embracing change (Uranus), urging the individual within us all to awaken to our unique self expression as old, outworn patterns that have kept us stuck are being challenged allowing us to becoming more empowered. Who better than Bowie to inspire that in all of us at this time by bravely embracing the next step on his journey?

Oh no love! you’re not alone

You’re watching yourself but you’re too unfair

You got your head all tangled up but if I could only make you care

Oh no love! you’re not alone

No matter what or who you’ve been

No matter when or where you’ve seen

All the knives seem to lacerate your brain

I’ve had my share, I’ll help you with the pain

You’re not alone

Just turn on with me and you’re not alone

Let’s turn on with me and you’re not alone

Let’s turn on and be not alone

Gimme your hands cause you’re wonderful

Oh gimme your hands.

(“Rock ‘N’ Roll Suicide” Lyrics)13

One final thought: Last night, as I looked up at the night sky thinking of David Bowie, I saw a shooting star! One more reminder of the ‘Starman’ shooting across the sky of my universe. Thank you, David Bowie, for all that you accomplished in your time on this planet and for sharing your creativity in such an inspiring way. You lived the ride to the fullest extent. You are loved and remembered fondly by many.

About Lindsay: Lindsay Conover has been reading charts and studying with various national and international teachers for over 15 years. She has a certificate in Psychological Astrology from the International Academy of Astrology. She is currently completing a Bachelors of Arts in Psychology at New Mexico Highlands University and holds an Associates of Science degree in Hospice Care and Grief Counseling from the Elizabeth Kubler-Ross Institute. Lindsay uses the astrological chart to provide intuitive insight into a conversation about our natures and the unfolding of our life in time. Lindsay’s astrological approach places an emphasis on honestly and lovingly viewing our natures from a meditative perspective so that we can become more aware of our personal energetic patterns and learn how we can successfully integrate them in to our lives. Lindsay can be contacted at [email protected] or 505-577-3111.

References

1 “Astrology – Astrological Reports.” – Horoscope. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. .

2 “David Bowie – Russell Harty 1975 (Pt 1 of 3).” YouTube. The Bowie Channel, 15 May 2009. Web.

13 Jan. 2016. .

3 “Blackstar (David Bowie Album).” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 13 Jan. 2016. Web. 13 Jan. 2016. .

4 “David Bowie Interview – 2003 – Part1.” YouTube. YouTube, 17 Sept. 2007. Web. 13 Jan. 2016. .

5 “A Philosophical Conversation with David Bowie.” YouTube. YouTube, 28 June 2012. Web. 13 Jan. 2016. .

6Buckley, David (1999). Strange Fascination – David Bowie: The Definitive Story (1st ed.). London: Virgin. pp. 258–75. ISBN 1-8522-7784-X

7“David Bowie 2002 Heathen Interview.” YouTube. YouTube, 6 Dec. 2012. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. .

8“Capricorn.” About the Goat: Astrology/Zodiac. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. .

9“David Bowie: Astrology and Horoscope.” Astrology: David Bowie, Date of Birth: 1947/01/08, Horoscope, Astrological Portrait, Dominant Planets, Birth Data, Biography. Web. 14 Jan. 2016.

10“David Bowie Dies of Cancer Aged 69 – BBC News.” BBC News. 11 Jan. 2016. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. .

11“Remembering the Life of David Bowie.” YouTube. YouTube, 11 Jan. 2016. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. .

12Heather, Saul. “David Bowie Biographer Claims Singer ‘suffered Six Heart Attacks’ before His Death.” The Independent. Independent Digital News and Media, 13 Jan. 2016. Web. 13 Jan. 2016.

13“”Rock ‘N’ Roll Suicide” Lyrics.” DAVID BOWIE LYRICS. Web. 14 Jan. 2016. .

Photo Credit: http://www.playbuzz.com/answers10/whi...

Chart Credit: bowiechart-e1440160764253.png?w=630

I started an ambitious project over the holidays, one of those that knee-deep into it your awareness startles, “If I would’ve known how much work this would take, I don’t know I’d have ever begun…” Yet I was grateful for my inspired enthusiasm, sorely missing in the past months. The creative solitude was delicious. I found myself pouring forth from a well I hadn’t known was there, deepening into myself, the quiet hush of winter, the wet stay-indoors weather proving itself a great container for generating inner light. As I contemplated the transit of Mercury, then the Sun, over my Capricorn IC, that point of our private, innermost self, I realised I had been serendipitously connecting with my inner hermit, the archetype of creative, spiritual-contemplative folk, and writers.

In numerology, 2016 is a “9” year (2+0+1+6). A 9 year signals time for introspection, focusing on what matters most, bringing wisdom to light, as well as completion. Like the astrological sign, Capricorn, 9 holds sway over the hermit archetype. Given that the first New Moon of the new year falls in the sign of the hermit… two potent mystical traditions are both in agreement: 2016 is Year of the Hermit. With these divine auspices, how do we best approach a hermit year?

Hermit up. In fairy books, hermits live at the edge of the world, inside a tree or cave (or you only see their tiny cottage via the curl of their chimney smoke from under a mound of snow). In modern times, hermits are often portrayed as anti-social, wild, dangerous, even. However, in mid-18th century England, hermits were all the rage: Can you believe that almost every country house had a hermitage and resident hermit because it embodied a level of wisdom, conscientiousness and thoughtfulness that people of the time believed should be valued (even if they had to outsource it)? There are people who call themselves hermits, today, seekers of a more contemplative life. We can value our inner hermit by hiding away at a spiritual or hermitage retreat, finding a nature spot that’s just ours, or even a corner seat at the coffee shop. The point is to create boundaries of space for what matters most to you, to address the pressing questions and urges of your soul. 

Create Space. Several times over the past week, despite feeling really in tune with my self, I felt my inner Hermit flare at any external demands (family, food, holidays) that encroached on this sacred inner space. Hermits need space to be productive and fulfilled. We may call this a need for solitude, but hermits aren’t necessarily anti-social. Angeles Arrien, in The Tarot Handbook, said, “This symbol is that state of consciousness associated with introspection and contemplation. It is not so much the need to be alone as it is the need for emotional, psychological, and environmental space.” Saturn, Capricorn’s ruler, planet of boundaries, structure and form is an aid in this. To accomplish anything of real importance and value in life, we need to claim the space to connect with our deep self. When we feel claustrophobic, limited, overwhelmed, over-scheduled we lose touch with our innate wisdom.

Be Ambitious. If you think hermits don’t accomplish anything, you’ve never met a Capricorn. This is a year for completing unfinished business, clearing out obstacles to growth (Pluto in Capricorn, anyone?), creating time for retreat and silence, thoughtfully organising the details of your life and environment (a hermitage is small; hermits cannot afford to be messy). According to Arrien, “The Hermit year is an especially good year for expressing your self through your hands…This will also be a year where you will be asked to inspire and motivate others, or may be seen as a lantern-bearer or wayshower, or the opposite; this may be a period where you want to be alone or experience time for in depth work or contemplation.” Just because no one can see your inner work doesn’t mean it’s not valuable- in fact, just the opposite. Those who do inner work to free themselves from old patterns, who turn their experiences into wisdom they share with others, are the wise ones of our communities, coveted for their wisdom and rewarded with prosperity, spiritual, emotional and material (though the hermit doesn’t need accolades –they are just sharing their inner light).

Finish What You’ve Started: Do you have a project you’ve put on the back burner? This is the year to finish it. This is consistent with anyone’s astrological advice on Mercury in Capricorn, retrograde: Get that half-finished manuscript off your hard drive, finish the house remodel, follow up on that thing you started a few years ago and that you know, deep down, still has teeth.

Capricorn New Moon is the time to connect with your inner hermit, to feel into your being, and value only the activities and people that hold personal meaning for you. Hermit prefers heartfelt solitude to empty companionship; contemplative beauty to gratuitous entertainments; the pursuit of spiritual fulfillment to material gain; the honoring and sharing of your true self over dutiful self-abandonment. In 2016, don’t be afraid to create the boundaries you need in your life to do this. Model your New Moon wishes after the Hermit, make him your ally, and you’ll light the way for success!

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above images: hermit 9 tarot cards, hermitage – Pinterest

I grew up in one of those “weird” families. Maybe yours was, too. The parental units weren’t exactly hippies, but they didn’t mix well with the status quo, either. They didn’t wear Birkenstocks or smoke pot with their guitar-playing friends (or, not that I know of), but neither were there potlucks, potluck parties and PTA meetings. While the other kids in my suburban neighborhood took dance or sports lessons, their big ploy was to get me to take mime (huh?) or meditation classes. Since neither activity had social support from my peers, and so threatened my ten-year-old self’s perilous social status, I wasn’t interested. But if I was awash in the anxiety of social awkwardness, so were my parents. I could feel it at parent-teacher conferences, supermarket trips and visit to friends’ houses, both theirs and mine. We simply didn’t fit in with what was going on around us.

I remember watching National Lampoon’s Vacation (after I left home, as we weren’t allowed to watch movies growing up) and taking comfort in their parallel strangeness. Radicalising Uranus is conjunct my Libra Ascendant, oppose my Moon, and exactly square my IC, the fourth house cusp angle of home and family. Over the years, I played the outsider and alien role in various ways. It took time, but eventually this lifelong feeling of being out of step with so much of society and culture was assuaged by my connection to astrology and the people in our “tribe”. Today, my truest, deepest heart-“kin” are those who speak my language, who share this common bond.

For as much as I deplored being the weird family on the street, I have a different, more mature, vantage point today. I see that those who led “normal” lives- including the one that I coveted in my friends, as a kid- didn’t always lead the most interesting, growth-filled, dynamic ones. Often it was quite the opposite. Maybe, today, normal is a setting on the dryer, as the Facebook jpeg circulating, says, but I suspect there are probably as many kids feeling alienated now as there were when I grew up. Let alone, adults, whose child self re-experiences this alienation in surprising, painful moments.

My younger sister (Uranus in her natal fourth house) felt displaced in our family, too, so she adopted herself into a new one when she was about twelve years old. Brave girl. At first it looked exactly like teenaged rebellion; she later told me she had decided to go where the unconditional love was. If you can imagine all the various ways a family can shame a kid for leaving, you know what a hard path she had. Yet as she matured, she took another look at her extended blood ties and has since formed strong, solid bonds. Despite that, misunderstanding still arises; people still confuse the definition of “family” with an archaic form of blood loyalty. “It’s complicated,” they say. Alienation ensues.

This Full Moon falls in Cancer, sign of hearth, heart and home and on the same day as Uranus, the Great Awakener –planet of all things and people unusual and weird — changes direction. Themes of alienation, other-ness and progress co-exist with togetherness, kin-ship and nostalgia for the past. It’s an uncomfortable, but not impossible, relationship. We just may need to do things differently than traditional social or familial dictates. We just may need to throw a circuit breaker into the system, to shake things up, cry freedom. Not merely to go our own way, but to redefine the map of the heart, to show others how to love, and how we wish to be loved. Because without the freedom to pursue our own authentic heart path, blood bonds are nothing more than bondage. 

Remember the old Coca-Cola commercial, “I’d like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony?”  “I’d like to buy the world a home and furnish it with love…” It’s my Uranus in Libra slash Sun in Cancer torch song. I’ve long-loved that commercial, where people of different nationalities, cultures, stripes, create harmony. I may’ve created a new one with my partner, a partnership in which we’ve placed the freedom to self-actualise as a clear and present guiding value, but I also feel a deep kinship, familiarity with my more global astrological tribe, with you. The nuclear family never fit my experience. Family is a feeling in your heart. The recognition that: These, these people, are my people. I can get that feeling in a room full of like-minded strangers. I can get that feeling when a client becomes a friend, and while tickling the belly of my laughing niece. When I do, I’ve come home.

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Today Moonkissd.com features a guest post from astrologer Lindsay Conover. Enjoy!

Monday, December 21st at 8:49pm PST the Sun enters the sign of Capricorn. In Astrology, the Winter Solstice is considered the time of the re-birth of the Sun (in the Northern hemisphere); a time to rejoice in the renewed length of the days. During this time, for six days, the Sun will rise and set on its longitudinal path at its Southern most place in the sky; creating the shortest days and longest nights. Then it will appear to reverse its longitudinal direction, subsequently creating longer days and shorter nights. This time is traditionally considered Midwinter.

The ancient ones were keenly attuned to their relationship with the natural world and the path of the Sun, because of its necessity for their survival. They honored and celebrated the Winter Solstice through rituals steeped in deep gratitude for the return of the Sun and for all the potential promise of re-growth and sustenance it offered. It is a celebration, during the darkest time of the year, designed to inspire and renew us!

In Astrology, the Sun is the symbol of our Ego; our potential creative expression. Just as the Sun shines on the earth, in Astrology it symbolises our ability to radiate our light out into the world, making us uniquely individual. Another way of putting it is that the Sun is symbolic of our will to respond to and express our inner promptings; our Spirit. The Sun is our conscious awareness as well as our choice making ability.

Traditionally the Sun in the sign Capricorn is correlated with expressing the solar energy through self-discipline, accountability, personal honor, patience, caution, ambition, and hard work. But let’s look more deeply at the curious symbolism associated with Capricorn: the goat with front legs and a fish tale. What does this mean? Fish are found in the ocean, and in Astrology, the ocean is symbolic of that which is hidden from view, below the surface, or existing in the darkness of our unconscious. The unconscious is also what informs our consciousness and guides our actions in the outer world through the expression of our Spirit. Both our strengths and our weaknesses can live in our unconscious as the result of unexpressed or repressed aspects of our natures. It is the process of bringing the unconscious into consciousness that allows us access to our enormous creative potential. When we are unable to express the content of our unconscious, that unexpressed energy is called our Shadow. According to Dr. James Hollis, Jungian Analyst, and author of The Middle Passage, “The key to integration of the shadow…” involves “neither further repression nor unlicensed acting out. The integration of the shadow requires that we live responsibly in society but also more honestly with ourselves”.

Maybe this is what the ancient Roman Festival of Saturnalia, celebrated in the days leading up to the Winter Solstice, was about; an opportunity to access those aspects of ourselves that are often repressed in our unconscious. As Sir James Frazer writes from The Golden Bough, Saturnalia was a time “when the darker passions found a vent which would never be allowed in the more staid and sober course of ordinary life”. Interestingly, this celebration harkens back to a time when Saturn was said to have ruled over a Golden Age when everyone was equal; a time that would have required much more personal responsibility and a connection to our wholeness; the integration of the light and dark.

Another way to explore the transition from dark to light, our baser expression of ourselves to a more enlightened expression of ourselves, is outlined by Dane Rudhyar in his writing Planets and Chakras. He refers to the chakras as “the currents of forces operating through the electric wires and master-switches of the body —and their psychic-mental coordinates”. We can consider that at this time of year, the energy at the base of the spine, the root/Saturn chakra which rules the sign Capricorn, is being energetically stimulated. As Rudhyar explains, “Astrologically, this is the ‘path of return’ of the solar force, from Saturn to the Sun.” Perhaps the Sun entering the sign of Capricorn at The Winter Solstice is a natural reminder to work with this energy within ourselves; moving it upward, toward consciousness expressed as our Godly selves.

It’s interesting to note that Capricorn is the sign on the 10th house cusp of the natural zodiac. Capricorn is opposite the sign Cancer, located on the 4th house cusp. Cancer and the 4th house are the first water sign/house of the zodiac. They are the portal to our instinctual feelings that bubble up from the unconscious. This axis is our 4th house Soul stirrings (Moon/Cancer) being expressed as our 10th house authority (author-ing) in the external world (Saturn/Capricorn). So, at this Winter Solstice time, we are reconnecting with our own drumbeat that moves us to action.

According to The Winter Solstice: The Sacred Traditions of Christmas by John Matthews, the tradition of gifts received from holiday icons, such as Santa Claus, may have derived from shamans, who were the first priests and magicians of the human race. After reaching otherworldly states, through altered states of consciousness, they came back “with gifts of prophecy and wisdom to give to the rest of us”. Perhaps what the Winter Solstice provides us is the opportunity to be shamans of our own lives! Awareness of our unconscious, rising into our consciousness, offers the gifts of our strengths as well as an opportunity to become aware of our Shadow, that which unconsciously guide our behaviors. These gifts (our daimons) are what we must work (Capricorn) at channeling through our creative expression (Sun). Those that no longer serve us (negative Shadow traits) must be eliminated from our lives (Saturn). So, as the Sun returns from exploring the darkness during this Winter Solstice, we must embrace the gifts it has to offer us and accept the responsibility to grow with new awareness. That is what the true meaning of ‘presents’ symbolizes. It is the celebration of the return of our own ‘presence’ that were are connecting with in the stillness of this shifting time of year.

Self-development is a continual process, often times startlingly revelatory, that requires continual strength to look deeper into ourselves and our actions with loving awareness. In the process, our true Self, or light, comes into being. It may start as a dim source, but as we continue our journey of uncovering, we will begin to expose more and more of our light through the process of consciously examining ourselves. This is necessary, now more than ever, during this intense time of shadow projection fueling the separation we see in the world. We are in need of more conscious action rather than unconscious acting out; collectively and individually.

So at this sacred time of the Winter Solstice, let’s take a moment to acknowledge the return of the light of awareness within ourselves; embracing the effort it takes to live consciously. Light a candle in honor of this ancient recognition that flows through our collective past. Celebrate this time by letting go of fear, as we reside in the knowing that once again, the Sun has returned, bringing opportunity for re-growth and renewal, lighting the path to integration and wholeness.

In honor of the significance of the Winter Solstice I share this Italian blessing from the 16th century found in The Winter Solstice by John Matthews:

A Solstice Salutation

I salute you!

There is nothing I can give you which

you have not.

But there is much, that while I cannot give,

you can take.

No heaven can come to us, unless our hearts find

rest in it today.

Take heaven!

No peace lies in the future which is not

hidden in this present instant.

Take peace!

The gloom of the world is but a shadow.

Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy.

Take joy!

And so at this Christmastime, I greet you,

With the prayer that for you, now, and forever,

The day breaks, and the shadows flee away!

Take Joy! The Tasha Tudor Christmas Book

About Lindsay: Lindsay Conover has been reading charts and studying with various national and international teachers for over 15 years. She has a certificate in Psychological Astrology from the International Academy of Astrology. She is currently completing a Bachelors of Arts in Psychology at New Mexico Highlands University and holds an Associates of Science degree in Hospice Care and Grief Counseling from the Elizabeth Kubler-Ross Institute. Lindsay uses the astrological chart to provide intuitive insight into a conversation about our natures and the unfolding of our life in time. Lindsay’s astrological approach places an emphasis on honestly and lovingly viewing our natures from a meditative perspective so that we can become more aware of our personal energetic patterns and learn how we can successfully integrate them in to our lives. Lindsay can be contacted at [email protected] or 505-577-3111.

It had been a difficult couple of months: I pulled a muscle in my back, an old health problem flared up for no apparent reason, and I experienced a number of dashed disappointments- all of which had the net effect of dampening my internal fire. Then there was the trip on the calendar for Paris. Instead of a heart filled with excitement I felt only a dull thud, because like many of you under the influence of the recent Saturn-Neptune square, life had become a study in disillusionment. I had been disappointed so many times that I found it difficult to generate hope.

“Abandon all hope.” I’ve long loved this, Pema Chodron’s, Buddhist slogan. Like faith, hope is like a beautiful will o’ wisp, a heartening and optimistic promise of a brighter future ahead. But it can also feed our illusions. Like a well-intentioned friend or lover who makes fantastic promises but doesn’t ever follow through, hope – the faith that “this time it will be different” – can be corrosive and insidious. Hope can be a destructive force, undermining our ability to meet reality with honesty and clarity.

I’d reached this kind of crossroads with travel. Let me illustrate my point: I say Paris, and you will quite naturally get wide-eyed and think: Sexy romance, the Eiffel tower in the rain, croissants, bohemian cafes. Oui, oui? This is hope, all Parisian coquettes and macaroons. The reality? Travel is a constant lesson in surrendering… to uncomfortable accommodations, weather, getting lost, not to mention how much time one spends waiting: at the airport, on the plane, in line, jet-lagged and wide-eyed for the sun to finally rise. And these are just the run of the mill travel inconveniences, without my chronic health issues.

Then, a few weeks before our planned trip, the terrorist attacks happened, and that was, well, a lot of things if not sobering. Combined with all the trips I’d taken throughout 2015, places that had brought me to my knees (Honolulu, Milan, Vienna, places equally charmed) I took this as a sign that it was time to totally relinquish my great expectations or stop traveling altogether. In addition to the usual travel annoyances, I needed to be okay with the high likelihood and frequency of physical pain, hunger (traveling with food sensitivities) and insomnia -all of which I experience during acutely during travel. I would take precautions, the travel self-care strategies I’ve learned over the years, but I knew there were no guarantees even then. I needed to be deeply okay with a monk-like austerity, accepting whatever came my way, blaming neither my self, nor Paris, for hardships incurred. If I could surrender, go in with no expectations, it didn’t matter if it was a wash or a gain. I would win.

There’s an image each of us carry of a thing, event, or person –an image of what or who they could be. Then there’s the reality. The thing is, reality always wins every time. No matter how much you want to “believe”, sometimes you have to make the hard calls. When “optimism”, “faith” “hope” are flaky friends who are incapable of showing up when you call…Well, you just can’t keep eating the alluring sugary macaroon and keep expecting it to nourish your soul. Humans spend a lot of time blaming the macaroon lover/boss/thing, but the reality is they are just doing what they do. The real problem is our distorted and ever-hopeful great expectations.

The Saturn-Neptune has (temporarily) passed and we’ve arrived at the Sagittarius New Moon with it’s potential for a clean slate and fresh start. New Moons bring endings and new beginnings, and the latter can’t truly happen without the former. Have we abandoned all that illusory hope and surrendered to what is? It wasn’t my intention to write a debbie downer essay. Intuitive, fiery Sagittarius follows emotionally intense Scorpio, and that’s by design; this season is meant to reinvigorate our spirits, to re-kindle them with hope, optimism, faith. The holidays help us to do this, as well as the promise of a new year. However, given the surreal state of our world right now, few of us can afford misplaced faith. We can’t afford to keep feeding the demons of hope, allowing them to spin out empty promises. We’ve suffered enough. We need to gather our wits, to see things clearly, because only then can we be effective.

So wit-gather. Think critically. Make tough calls. Decide to abandon all hope and meet reality clearly. Not reality as you want it to be, but as it actually is. With Saturn in Sagittarius for two more years, this is the path forward — for all of us.

So you’re probably wondering: Well, how was Paris, already? I did Saturn’s due diligence by making sure my husband carried my luggage so I wouldn’t sprain my back, and creating a food allergy card (in French) that I could present to cafes, among other precautions that necessity demands. I also abandoned all hope that this would make a difference. I let go entirely. No expectations. Not a single one. Paris was heavenly.

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Perhaps you have a friend with whom you are completely at odds in values and choices, or a sibling that vexes you by being the opposite of you in every way. Or a lover who turns left when you say go right. Yes, you’ve met the confounding, maddening Other, before…We all have. It can be fun to have differences. Or not!

I have a client who just had twins (Scorpios- double trouble!) enter her family. Twins get to spend their entire lives exploring the duality and similarity of their situation. Imagine the madness and the joy of it! Everyday a trip to a hall of mirrors…Is that me, we, or you? Is this true, or that?

Duality is inherent to Gemini – which means twins in Latin. The paradox is that it’s all true. Synthesizing opposites is Gemini’s realm. In myth, Mercury, Gemini’s God, was featured holding the physician’s caduceus, a rod with two intertwined snakes signifying the art of healing as the merging of opposites, the end of duality and separation. The snakes coil around the staff in a healing embrace. While that’s the endpoint, it’s not an automatic guarantee for the archetype. In reality, contrary perceptions of reality can heal and/or shatter us. The house of mirrors can turn into a hell realm where every reflection increases our confusion about what’s true or false, the sheer amount of data and dissimilar information threatening to topple us. To make it through with sanity intact we have to get very quiet and find center. We need to figure out how to pull together what’s fragmented and make it whole again.

Saturn in Sagittarius squares Neptune in Pisces at this Full Moon. The global discussion revolves around refugees. There’s no one “stranger” than a displaced foreigner (Sagittarius), so different in appearance, language, heritage, custom and cultural background than we. Sagittarius is the archetype of the immigrant. With timekeeper Saturn in Sag, it’s time to solve this. The United States, where I live, was built for and by immigrants-so logically, we are they. On one hand, we are a country that embraces the freedom and happiness of all people; on the other, as a people we are intolerant, divisive and hypocritical. It’s one thing to say “I embrace differences” and apparently quite another thing to invite the Other into your home. This dichotomy extends beyond the refugee crisis, but we’re learning that when the happiness of the Other is undermined so is the happiness of All (Pisces). This is a longer discussion; the Saturn-Neptune square is a major theme of 2016.

Mercury triggers the Neptune-Saturn square at this Gemini Full Moon, highlighting our need to sort and filter out disinformation, and “dry out” any limiting beliefs and divisive thought patterns we’re holding. How can we find true information in a world where media spins just about everything? How do we discover what is true? As Neptune in Pisces squares Saturn in Sagittarius, it’s like Toto pulling back the curtain on Oz — we’re seeing what lurks behind religion, ideology and belief systems. We are in a cycle of disillusionment.

In times of conflict and dis-ease, the ancients would’ve called on Mercury, the psychopomp who travels between realms of consciousness bearing messages from between-worlds. We can call on our own connection to Mercury. By strengthening our relationship to our dreamlife, the world of symbols, signs and omens, we strengthen the spiritual understanding that cuts through duality and allies us with unity. Serpents are aligned with the kundalini energy that travels from the root chakra of survival to the third eye/crown chakra, awakening our inner vision. We can call on serpent magic, asking to have messages of the infinite be energetically unlocked and made available to us. We can listen. Fruitful discussion always happens when we stop opining our beliefs, and start running the shared human experience through our listening hearts.

Curiosity is the heart and soul of Gemini Moon. Consider this curiosity: the Other already lives inside your heart. In the grander spiritual scheme, we know the Other’s experience because we’ve been them, or one day will be. We are they. We came from the same Cosmic womb, and will return. If you think this should be a no-brainer for the collective, take a hard look in the mirror: How easy is it for you to heal your relationship to the difficult Others’ in your life? All the more reason for us to be graceful, compassionate and curious around what emerges at this Full Moon.

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