Jessica Shepherd's Blog, page 30

We really don’t know what we’re getting into when we fall in love with another, do we? We fall under the spell of love, we fall for someone trustworthy, kind and true, and trust that no matter what comes our way, the tender feelings we have for one another will insulate and protect us from what inevitably comes next. Given the right person, barring a criminal history or other red flags, it would be silly to think it’s not worth the risk. Love is the ultimate reality, and many know that God is Love, too.

We take a vow, make a commitment to our Love, to love, honor, respect in sickness, in health…and a host of other potentials. What comes next…is hard. It can happen five months down the road, or five years. The inevitability of love is that eventually something will challenge it in the deepest way. When something devastating or unexpected blindsides us, we are forced to trace backwards how it “got this bad”. Maybe we can start to see how poor communication, piled up resentments, a mutual unwillingness to have an honest conversation contributed to this. Maybe we never thought that letting that same argument go (over and over) could erode the attraction and affection we have for each other, let alone the very center of our union. A failure to adequately resolve what is happening in the present creates the atmosphere of living under a volcano. And these oppressed emotions and unspoken words are like time bombs.

In love, we also tend to underestimate the level of unhealed trauma we all bring to our partnerships. Very few of us are enlightened enough so as to be healed from our childhood or karmic wounds. We each have baggage of the deepest, most buried kind – and this will always be revealed in partnership sooner or later. It is the function of an intimate relationship to show us all the areas where we are still separate from Love. It is the contrast that illuminates Love, like a black and white photograph the more intense our love for another is (the white), the more pronounced what is keeping us from living there all the time (the black). The black holds our blocks, our feelings of separateness, pain and aloneness. It is also the trauma we carry but cannot yet see in our self – until the partner we love holds up a mirror and shows us how far we have left to go, to get the love we are aching for.

We all have darkness, hurt and pain. We all have suffered, deeply, to achieve the spiritual awareness and growth we can claim today. It’s important to remember this when we’re having relationship troubles, when love isn’t romantic and good-feeling but painful. Love isn’t supposed to feel good all the time. Marianne Williamson says, “Part of our problem is that we expect love affairs to always feel good. They don’t. Actually, relationships don’t feel good anyway. We feel good. Unless we are centered within ourselves, we cannot blame a relationship for throwing us off.”

On December 20 and 21, the Uranus-Pluto square toggles with the planet of love, Venus, in the sign of Capricorn. We may need to look at the blockages in our relationship life, to see where we are standing separate from Love –and then dive deep to correct it. Pluto-Uranus is the epitome of peeling the onion. Just keep peeling it.  We may not be ready for the core healing (or we may), but with each layer, we grow incrementally closer to being whole, to opening our heart where it’s been shut down and broken. It’s stubborn, Holy work. But if pain is the motivator of spiritual growth, I can’t imagine any better way to learn than through love.

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“He doesn’t listen to me,” said a client with a Gemini Moon. “He acts like he’s listening, but I can tell he’s not.” I could relate. I have a Gemini Moon partner. Constantly multi-tasking between science fiction videos, shopping and work, catching his attention is like trying to catch a butterfly in motion. As a result, I’ve learned a few tricks to keep him engaged. For instance, a bold statement will always get his attention; so will anything whimsical or intellectually interesting. I’ve also learned that distraction is not always the culprit. When someone’s tuning another person out, there’s a strong chance that one or both of us are bored. Symptoms? Hearing, but not really listening; anticipating what the other person will say, or finishing their sentences before they have a chance to actually speak them. Attention-getting strategies aside, Gemini Moon also teaches me the power of fun, variety and newness- as for Gemini, boredom equals death.

Human beings crave novelty, newness. Science says a lack of mental novelty does actually age us. Gemini knows that old age is a mindset, and one that essentially boils down to lack of mental stimulation. To feel youthful and alive, we need to keep things fresh, mix things up a bit. At Gemini Full Moon we need to shake up our mental circuitry, to be stimulated and surprised. After all, we all get stuck in routines of habit that distract us from being truly present – and that’s when boredom appears. When this happens: just think, there’s nothing more exciting than being right here, right now on this planet. There’s nothing more full of possibility than this present moment. Anything could happen! When we’re bored, we neglect the possibility of the present, and the role our whimsy and curiosity has in bringing it to fruition.

Our minds crave a fresh take right now, and that can mean looking inside them, dusting out the cobwebs and looking at why we think what we think. This can be scary. Have you looked inside your mind lately? For most of us, as Elizabeth Gilbert says: Our mind is like a neighborhood we don’t want to get caught alone in at night. But we do walk around in it every day, thinking thoughts, saying things to ourselves and others, based on beliefs and assumptions we probably haven’t investigated in awhile, if ever. As a client, who came to me for help with her relationship life, said of her mental health (after my taskmaster Saturn in Gemini led her through a belief exercise), “It’s a mess in there!” It is a mess in there. Our minds often tell us contradictory stories about our self, relationships, life but living in unchecked chaos can paint our lives into a very narrow corner.

So at this Full Moon, unpack your mind. Is there anything old, crusty and stale in there that could be tossed out, or an inspiration revitalized, or a belief investigated for its truth? With Saturn’s upcoming move into Sagittarius, sign of “I Believe”, some of our hardest lessons revolve around the dark propaganda we continue perpetuating in our own minds. We might start now, by investigating those stories we tell our self. To belief bust, I adore Byron Katie’s process of inquiry.

You also want to pay attention to your immediate environment. Full Moon in Gemini contains visionary new information. The kind that causes you to do a double take, as it did for me this morning when taking a walk around the neighborhood, I noticed a wee sign posted on the vacant lot next door informing us that a house is to be built -difficult news for this homebody Cancer (deep breath). With this month’s exact Uranus-Pluto square (13 degrees), some of the news we receive feels fated, forcing us to confront the powerful changes at work in all of our lives.

But it’s not all about news- bad or good. It’s also time to refresh your Gemini toolkit: Do you have enough interesting books to read, and discuss? Do you need any shiny new tech gadgets, tools or Mercury-type helpers to help you accomplish what it is that you do? Do you have enough quality intellectual stimulation in your life – or are you running around in circles, wasting mental energy pursuing ideas and activities that aren’t satisfying to you?

Gemini energy can also feel scattered, so let’s review. In summary: Pay attention. Talk and (importantly) listen to each other. Question your mind. Nurture at least one new curiosity or whim. Pick up a fun, shiny new gadget. Cross-pollinate ideas. Learn. Discuss. Be on the lookout for synchronicities. Allow the spritely, fresh-face of Gemini Full Moon to both inform and inspire you!

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photo: Heavy Metal Artwork

In the Pacific Northwest, it’s raining as I write this.  The gentle pattering of rain is drenching the Earth with wetness, making up for all those days of having to go without. And so it goes with astrology. Those of us who study it know that astrology flows with the cyclical seasons of life. Just as spring follows winter, yang follows yin, each zodiac season relieves the former. The good and the bad news is: Everything changes. Nothing can last forever. And so on the heels of the shadowy, intense, autumnal, inward looking sign of Scorpio -the season of increasing darkness, of falling leaves and fallen loved ones, of grief and intense emotions and psychological introspection – arrives Sagittarius in a fiery bluster, all bravado and festive boisterousness.

“Why is everyone so serious?” demands Sagittarius, who resembles cross between a Viking warrior and a pep rally leader, while slamming his ale horn down on the bar, and flicking a quarter into the jukebox as Johnny Mathis starts playing. Sagittarius, pointing out that we’ve all grown a bit too broody and moody for our own good, strikes up a philosophical conversation. “Sure,” he says, “you’ve become a deeper, more whole human being who is in touch with your darkness and humanity, but in the process you’ve lost your perspective. You’ve forgotten how to lighten up. Look outside your window. There’s a whole world out there just waiting for you to explore it. Get up and get out there. But before you do, let’s eat, drink and dance.”

Death lays all the cards on the table and strips us down to our essence. Scorpio season puts us in touch with our aliveness… then Sagittarius comes along to show us how to really live.  How? For starters, we shall eat. A lot. A few days after the Sun enters Sagittarius, at least in America, we will gorge our selves with too much food and drink in a holiday we call Thanksgiving. We will feast, like King Zeus/Jupiter at the buffet of life, as an affirmation of abundance. We will give gratitude, and in so doing demonstrating our faith in the goodness and bounty of life. As we give thanks, we will renew our commitment to live the life we have been given to the fullest, while remembering what and who matters most. The losses and learning of Scorpio season will not be forgotten; they will generate new journeys, and meaningful new perspectives.

Sagittarius New Moon lets Scorpio bygones be bygones, encouraging us to leave the darkness behind and enter into life again, full throttle. To hit the reset button, drink from the dregs of life. Celebrate. Give gratitude.  Have a new experience, or several. Expand your scope, by traveling, learning and living. Sagittarius energy is buoyant, expansive, wants to gather new experiences, reach, stretch and grow beyond what it knows. Sagittarius says: Seekers, Wanderers, Journeyors, to see what the world has for you, you must venture out into it. Sagittarius’ appetite for life, unparalleled to any other Zodiac sign, asks us to feed our spiritual and physical hunger. And not a moment too soon. We need to shake off the pall of grief, the dark night of the soul. We need hope. To go forward, we need a lighter spirit. We need to huddle around the table, eat, drink and make merry in good cheer. Not as a superficial act but as an affirmation of our faith in, and of the wonder of, life.

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image: Viking Feast by Harvey Dunn

Last Monday (at the Mars-Pluto conjunction), my cousin’s wife’s young sister was murdered by her boyfriend- who then suicided. Mid-week, we heard sad news of Thich Nhat Hanh’s precarious health. Saturday, my maternal grandmother died.  Though I didn’t know my cousin-in-law’s sister, and since their move to the West Coast, from Ohio, we’re still just getting to know her, my heart trembled with horror. Overnight, jokes about violence have become distasteful. A picture of Annie Oakley on my Facebook feed with the supposed quote, “I ain’t afraid to love a man. I ain’t afraid to shoot him, either.” I would’ve found this funny, previously. Death changes things.

My grandma’s death, more immediate to me, has thrust me into an alternate universe of not feeling quite myself: of weepy ambition-lessness and memories surfacing that I’d forgotten, or buried.  My mother died in ’98, and my grandmother’s passing has re-confirmed this for me. Grieving is not linear, nor connected to just one person. It’s more like a scatter plot graph, with variables that exist outside our control jolting us into correlations we might not have otherwise made. Ultimate understanding may exceed our grasp, but the hero’s journey into the underworld is one all of us take. My grandmother made this journey her life’s work. A twelfth house Leo Sun who mid-wived her husband, mother, daughter-in-law and two of her daughters to Death’s door, my grandmother made this journey many times that toward the end, her life began to be defined by her losses.  It was frustrating, at times, hearing her dwell on the past when the vibrant aliveness of life and all her great-grandbabies surrounded her, yet amidst all the regret, longing and looking backwards she became a very spiritual person. She had this written in her address book, (which one of my cousins shared with us by text message over the weekend): “Seashells remind us that every passing life leaves something beautiful behind.” She had spent enough time with Death, and the bones of the living sea, to know.

Saturn is breathing its final gasp in the end degrees of Scorpio (Saturn enters Sagittarius on 12/23*), and he wants to make sure we know that he knows that we know. Death and endings loom large, and seems to be everywhere right now. Despite being final, death doesn’t always bring closure, and as often brings more questions. We don’t know why something senseless happens. We don’t always get closure with the ones we love, dead or living, and we don’t get to choose when or how endings occur. Scorpio is a no-man’s land of privacy, and complexity. Since Saturn has entered Scorpio, our feelings, our life, has deepened, but it’s also become less straightforward. We’ve been asked to confront death, loss, tragedy and our own inevitable endings with a level of maturity and level-headed common sense (Saturn). And it still hurts. As Brittany Maynard, the woman who recently took her inevitable death into her own hands, said matter-of-factly, “I don’t want to die. I am dying.”

On Tuesday, the Sun meets Saturn in Scorpio for the last time, not to join again for another 28 years. I won’t be sorry to see Saturn leave Scorpio, but I’m not going to forget what it brought us: intimacy with our interior lives and inner workings, the necessity of looking at how we think about death, endings and loss, and emotional honesty: because let’s face it, no matter how much we want it to be otherwise, sometimes there isn’t a silver lining to be found. There is not always a perky pollyanna version of events for every life setback; and for many, the only door opening when one closes is the one that’s hitting you on the backside on the way out. So I’m ready, for both the Sun, then Saturn, to enter Sagittarius– ready for more philosophical journeys of mind, for the big questions of our time to be addressed and discussed. While Scorpio leaves us with the kind of wisdom we can only acquire through loss of life, Sagittarius re-inspires hope in it.

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*save a retrograde period 6/17-9/17/15, when Saturn revisits Scorpio

image: Viking funeral for a cat

We all need to dip into Neptune’s waters of just being from time to time, as a measure to the time we spend doing. Losing all sense of time and space, for a bit, is a welcome and necessary reprieve for an overly busy world. Meditating, a day at the beach, a day of watching movies…even staring at the ceiling for hours can be therapeutic. We all need to dip into the timeless dimension, if only to remind our Self that we are an Eternal Soul.

Yet as with all archetypes, Neptune can be as much friend as foe. Neptune can instruct us in observing the hushed beauty of a flower, the silent reverie of mind, our connection to all things great and small. Unconscious Neptune can strand us in the middle of an ocean of emotion, rudderless, lost at sea, feeling victimised/martyred. We are not fated to experience only the difficult side of Neptune. Neptune’s invitation is for more conscious awareness, and to find a middle way.

Dark Neptune

Neptune is, at its core, a thirst for ecstasy, bliss, communion with Spirit. But even avid seekers can use spiritual strategies to avoid life. “Don’t bother me, I’m meditating!” screams the “evolved” Buddhist practitioner, to his family. Dark Neptune strikes when you’re not paying attention, or you’re focused on the wrong thing to the exclusion of the whole.

Dark Neptune lulls us into an inner lassitude about the practical and inner realities we’re neglecting: we forget to pay the phone bill again, we missed another AA meeting, we stop making plans, fall out of touch with cherished friends. Maybe we let go of a partners’ verbal abuse that we should be addressing because doing the work of relationship is new and scary, or we retreat from the world for a time, to heal, but decide to stay there and hide out. We follow the lure to an impossible romance, addicted to the chaos of our emotions. We get a mysterious sickness and enter a medical hall of mirrors, eventually allowing our emotional fear and uncertainty to control all aspects of our lives. We are consumed by a search for a miracle, answer or cure. Avoidance of reality, or over-focusing on one area of life to the exclusion of your whole life, all create the perfect Neptunian cocktail for stealing your life away. The possibilities are as numinous as Neptune itself, but dark Neptune all has avoidance and escapism at its core. Possessed by dark Neptune, we avoid life, and the problem-solving that reality requires of us to grow, evolve. Comfortably numb or emotionally at sea, we neglect to fully inhabit our own lives. We become a ghost; no one is home.

Bright Neptune

The bright side of Neptune can help us to let go, connect to a source bigger than our small self, our material world and its problems. When life gets to be too much, Neptune arrives with a movie and popcorn, a day off, good music (bright Neptune supports healthy escapism). When life hits us with a 2×4, Neptune impels us to pick up a spiritual book or talk to a friend who understands spiritual principles that are so hard to master, like “don’t sweat the small stuff” and “love knows no enemy.”  Bright Neptune takes us by the hand and leads us to the meditation cushion, the nature walk, a church with a heavenly gospel choir. Bright Neptune asks us to make more open spaces in our life, to open our consciousness a little wider. Through experiences where our hands are tied, or through an impersonal experience of love and transcendence, when we need: forgiveness, self-acceptance, faith, redemption, relief, when we crave spiritual truths that resonate with our very core being, Neptune is nearby. Whereas dark Neptune seeks to obliterate the overwhelming feelings and pains of being a spiritual being in a physical body through escapism and avoidance, bright Neptune awakens us to the all-permeating transcendent Spirit, helping us to realise the true source behind our confusion and illusions: our separation from the Source. Bright Neptune teaches us to periodically surrender to Source, to trust in the natural processes of life.

The Middle Way

The reality of Neptune is: We will all eventually experience the periods of absolute uncertainty that Neptune brings. We will all go through stages (often years) of life where, no matter how hard we look for the elusive needle in the haystack, we cannot find it. Inexplicable feelings of loss and yearning, combined with feeling emotionally adrift or at sea in our self, we may mistake our confusion at “not having the answers” with being lost, weak, or ineffectual in life. For those of us experiencing a Neptune transit, it’s important to understand that our feelings of being lost and adrift are not a statement about our True Self, or one’s capacities as an individual. Neptune teaches us that that there’s much more that we don’t know than what we do…and sometimes we have to wait. As we wait, we learn to let go of our need to know and have solutions. We learn to stay in the present moment, and we find a middle way – one that’s less about swinging to extremes and more about trusting what this moment holds, then the next moment. Moment by moment, we learn that surrendering our need for miracles doesn’t mean giving up on our dream of finding them. It just clears the path for more peace and less confusion.

Neptune changes directions twice every year: it moves retrograde, then directs. When a planet stations (stops to change direction), it’s at its strongest. Wherever you are in your personal evolution, your relationship with Neptune will be under scrutiny, under a close microscope, at that time. As a client said to me just this morning, through her tears,  “Jessica, I think I’ve been asleep for years.” Neptune station can bring us these potent moments of potent self-realisation and insight.

As Neptune stations, now is the time to ask your self: How am I honouring Neptune in my life?

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image source: WeHeartIt.com, horse-@Top1Walls fog-@suviotsola

Mars is currently transiting my Third House (of neighbors, communications, transportation, mind), and as Mars transits goes, it’s textbook aggravating. Proclaiming my need for relief, I tell my husband I’m going shopping but my stress-relieving trip soon proves more stressful. The mall is crowded with people wearing sour looks. I feel shamed, by the body language and tsk-tsk of both customers and salespeople, for bringing my friendly puppy to supposedly “pet-friendly” stores; while driving back home, a driver lays on her horn because I allow a family, huddled together on a small median, to cross the street on a green light; I receive an accusatory glare as I drive through a kid-populated area of my neighborhood, a glare that tells me she thinks I’m driving too fast, though I’m well under the speed limit. Meanwhile, I’m still thinking about an earlier correspondence I had with a spiritual teacher whose communications were truthful, but hurtful. Only moments later, bristling with accumulated irritation, I notice I am behind a car with the bumper sticker “Metta” (lovingkindness) when I viciously think: Ha! This person is probably the worst offender of all, holy on the meditation cushion, they’ll be the first to leer at you when you accidentally bump into them and spill their seven-dollar designer gluten-free coffee! That’s how the cycle perpetuates: Blood-thirst begets blood-thirst.

 When I’m experiencing mental anguish, when frustration and anger threaten to send the rest of my life spiraling, I slow down. I get still. I listen to the gentle tumble of the clothes in the dryer, the soft breath of my sleeping puppy laying next to me, the steady pecking of the chicken outside my office window, the silkiness of my pajama bottoms against my skin, the warmth of spicy tea going down my throat. Sometimes I bake chocolate chip cookies just to feel the sweet taste on my tongue, or I take a walk. From the trees turning colors outside my window to the stillness of silence surrounding, I ground myself in the gentle steadiness and comforts of this Earthly life. These are the things that transport me from ground zero back to solid ground.

Scorpio season churns our emotions with our truths, our bottom lines, and the intensity of our own emotional experience can overwhelm our body senses. Taurus, as a counterbalance, is the archetype of safety, calm, pleasure and beauty. A Venus-ruled Earth sign, Taurus best restores our sense of calm and ease through the natural world. Taurus reminds me, always, of my Taurus friend who when deep in the throes of a Pluto-Moon transit, teeming with icy hot emotions and despair, went for a run in the forest, planted herself next to a tree, and surrendered. While the tree supported her and the Earth absorbed her emotions, she experienced a surge of emotional purification. By connecting with Earth and her body, by going into her senses, she came to her senses. Mother Nature, in her bastion of stillness, calm and support, returned her to solid ground.

In periods of emotional intensity, irritation -and confrontation- it’s easy to lose connection with our basic sanity. Talking to my other astrologer friends: people appear to be particularly prickly this Scorpio season, especially on social media. When affronted, we want to react, defend our self, even if in the past the results of doing so proved unsatisfactory. So we (or at least I) simmer on a slow burn, plotting revenge. I think there’s something primal in each of us, maybe reminiscent of our caveman DNA, that secretly wants blood. Yet that response always hijacks our intelligence. Science says we all have a reptile (triune) brain that is triggered by “reptile issues” such as territoriality, and when the reptile brain is in control, we don’t have access to our frontal cortex (which explains why we why, after a stressful argument, we smack our forehead wondering why we were unable to say the thoughts we can clearly articulate now, during said fight). To remain in control of our faculties, we need to be the Buddha (also recently circulating on Facebook), whose advice on letting go of our attachments instructs: Buddha, you’ve got to let that *hit go.

We can do this by recovering our safe zone, a place to come to our senses. Taurus Full Moon invites us to sit in a forest, by a stream, next to a tree or on a cushion and discover our solid ground again. What do we stand on? What do we stand for? Can we allow our true values to support us when the wind, and our hot emotions, blows? It’s a time of year for honesty about this, because, let’s face it, our truthfulness sometimes conceals deeper, hidden motivations; our actions and words do not always reflect humane values of kindness, tolerance, forgiveness, compassion. When our emotions churn, can we be as unshakable in the firm, kind confidence of our truth as a Great Oak? In keeping with the spirit of Taurus, we don’t have to do much. We can be lazy about it. Simply noticing the pleasures of this Earth and this body allow us to feel supported. In the clothes softly tumbling in the dryer, in the hum of a teakettle, we can build repose, confidence, sanity, trust and safety. How easy is that.

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What’s so fun about Halloween? You get to dress up, and wear an aspect of your personality people may know – or not! The cool thing about the zodiac is that each sign contains universal archetypes, or ways of expressing (like Aries, the Warrior) making it really easy to tap your innate character for character inspiration. Instead of just your Sun sign, choose your Moon sign Ascendant/Rising sign. Your Rising Sign is your mask – a visible “costume” you wear every single day. Your Moon is the more hidden part of your personality, so wearing a costume for this sign feels natural to you and a little exciting, too, like inviting your alter ego out to play.

Aries: a competitor at heart, winning the Halloween costume contest is as satisfying as a sexy conquest. Go all out. Play with their heads. Let yourself fully inhabit the character by quoting movie lines and bringing plenty of props: blood, guns, knives etc.

Ricky Bobby, Nascar Drive from Talledega Nights “Remember son, if you’re not first you’re last.” Spartacus, Carrie Bradshaw from Sex & the City “knows good Sex”, Jason from Friday the 13th, Steve McQueen, Cleopatra, Casanova, Police Officer, Wonder Woman, Surgeon, James Dean, Famous Athlete, Cowboy, Warrior Princess

Taurus: as soft-natured and gentle as gruff and bull headed, no one wants to be around an angry Taurus – presenting a host of possibilities for you. No more Mr. Nice Guy? Or maybe it takes too much effort to bother with a costume (make it easy) or you’ll sit this one out watching T.V.

Venus de Milo, Earth Mama, Milk Maid, Donald Trump, Money Bags, Shrek, A Flower, Gardener, Caveman, Don Juan, Beauty Pageant Winner (Carrie!), Prom Queen or King, a Pussycat Doll (so brave!), your totem animal

Gemini: pin you down to just one personality? Ha! You’re wild about Halloween. Pick a pop culture figure because you’re an excellent copycat. Become your alter ego, it’s so easy. Quick & intelligent, in a jiffy you whip up the smartest costume on the block.

Star Reporter, Mercury the Messenger, the Mary-Kate Ashley Olsen Twins, the Thompson Twins, Fed Ex Delivery Guy, UPS Man, the Postman, Student, Court Page, Court Jester, TV Personalities (great mimics), Comedian, Magician

Cancer: sweetly protective, mystical and otherworldly, you wouldn’t hurt a fly with your costume (not to offend). Secret clubs, magical rites and enchantments tug at your nostalgic heart, for the golden days, the way things were… Choose mythical, historical figures.

Mermaid, Genie, Little Girl, Princess Diana, Pregnant Mama, Moon Goddesses: Isis, Diana-Artemis, The Moon, Chef – Julia Child, Healer, Romantic -Emily Dickinson, Patriot, Costume Ball goer (your disguise is your shell), a Matriarch, Wizard (Harry Potter and cast)

Leo: you’re regal and beloved by many. Of course you’re a King or Queen, but what about your childhood dream to be a rock star? Think of your childhood dreams – they profoundly shape your life, connecting you to your inner child’s joie de vivre. Hello play day!

Leonitus, King of Spartans; Queen Elizabeth, Any Performer or Celebrity icon: Madonna, Mick Jagger, Rock Star, the Lion (from Wizard of OZ), Garfield the Cat, Showgirl, a Hero, Fireman (or Firewoman), Fallen Star, Performance Artist, a tragic Narcissist, Playa’ (as in lover of many), Don Juan de Marco – any Romantic

Virgo: you’re an intelligentsia, a lover of literature and spiritual purity. Anyone smart and competent appeals to you, the expert of the zodiac. You’re demure and sensual so call out your inner harlot by walking on the bright side of dark – a sexy nun, anyone?

Nurse, Doctor, Consort, Vesta or any Sacred Prostitute Goddess (a way to play it safely sexy!), Nun, Mother Superior, Dr. Phil, Virginia Woolf or other famous writer, Movie Critic, Intellectual, Mr. or Mrs. Fix-It, Crazed Life Coach

Click here for Libra-Pisces

I’ve often believed in the power of instant karma, the idea that what goes around can (relatively) instantly come around, makes sense to me. I trust that life ultimately fair, while knowing I may not fully understand what that means yet. But instant transformation is a harder sell.  Excepting a temporary, superficial makeover, the work of true, deep change is a slow process.  I guess it’s the psychologist in me: I am suspicious of shortcuts. I want the real.

 Yet some changes appear instant. In a blink, we can be light years ahead of where we were last week. I stumbled upon this when I began meditating again. I had been trying so hard to rest in a place of physical and emotional balance, when one evening I heard the voice: just sit, listen to your heart. Equanimity bloomed. After months of feeling my mind and body were at opposite ends of the room (transiting Uranus has been opposing my Ascendant, and joining my Aries Moon – aspects known for creating body-emotion disturbances), I instantly morphed into someone grounded and in touch with her mind-body -an accomplishment for one such as me, with no earth in her chart!

The thing is, I didn’t want to do it. I had been resisting meditation for so long but when it was suggested to me (again) something in me jarred loose, and surrendered, and when it did it was like returning to an old friend, one who had been waiting years for me, and that old friend was me. She had never gone anywhere. Like the clouds that hide the Sun that is always there, shining on no matter the weather, she had been obscured by noise and thoughts.

What is transformation? Many of us think dramatic change involves cross-country moves, career changes, lottery wins, luck or an epiphany that will change everything. Yet true, inner, transformation isn’t a material event.  We’ve all known people whose biographical lives have changed, and yet nothing changed. Not really. A new lover arrives, and we celebrate that, but down the road the same old problems come up again. True transformation happens when we remove the obstacles and resistance to what is true, and always right here.

I have a friend and client who has been delivered a bill from Saturn in Scorpio- a financial wake up call of sorts. Because her spending habits are causing problems in her family, she has committed to a budget and feels stuck for progress. “I’m paying a vast amount every month and I’m still at the bottom of the mountain.” Good for you, I cheerlead, for getting clear and honest and doing the hard, right work (Saturn). A beat later, she mentions she has a friend who can manifest anything she wants, but that she herself believes ‘some people are just born lucky’. With this New Moon in her third house, transformations occur in her mind: by listening, discarding untrue thoughts.

The Scorpio New Moon brings with it the potential for metamorphoses, and Solar Eclipses have the mysterious and magical ability to move us forward ten paces. At this New Moon, transformations can happen instantly. Though we may need to take off our kid gloves, drop our resistance and stop sheltering our self from hard truths; we may need to scratch a few feet beneath the surface to discover the treasure awaiting us. Where does this New Moon Eclipse fall in your chart? In this area of life, let go, open up your mind, let go of your resistance and your grievances, forgive, and surrender your tired old arguments and attachments to having things be a certain way.  To get what you most want, throw away something no longer useful to you. I love what Elizabeth Gilbert posted on her Facebook page recently, an image of the sea, with big, bold words: Transformation=Liberation + Loss.  So true. I doubt I’ve ever gained anything of value in my life without giving up something (even if it was just an idea about myself), first.

Venus in Scorpio joins the Sun at this eclipse, adding money, relationships, self-worth, and joy into the heady Scorpio brew of revelations and metamorphoses. In love and business, people are getting engaged, joining forces. “We” are merging. Pleasure is featured. If you’re wondering whether the Scorpio Goddesses have passed you by, ask for what you want, let go of something you don’t want, and be open to the many ways in which your desires can be answered. Change may be an inside, and long-term, job but for the moment let’s all enjoy accelerated transformation.

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image: Landscape with Butterflies by Salvador Dali