There’s still time: spring eclipse seed-planting experiment

Apologies for not being able to get this on the blog with a little more lead-time, but I hope a few readers are able to plant some seeds for this last spring eclipse! — Amanda

We have one more eclipse this spring. And though it is not aligned with Taurus, the fixed earth sign at the peak of spring, the earth is still very much a focus for many of us — and a primary element in a cool experiment in applied astrology. You still have time to try it with the Sagittarius Full Moon and lunar eclipse (exact at 12:25 am EDT Saturday). Len Wallick shared the project with me a few days before the last eclipse in Taurus.

Nasturtium seedlings; photo by Amanda Painter.

It can be easy for astrology to get very abstract, and we don’t always make it practical, tangible and visible for ourselves; its cycles ask us to look and think in longer spans of time that can be hard to reconcile with the speed of a life lived partially online. But we can be an agent in those cycles, in addition to being an observer, when we consciously engage in simple exercises linked to the natural world.

According to Len — and the kind woman who taught him this experiment — planting seeds at a spring eclipse (no matter if the Sun is in an earth sign or not) can help you to focus on what’s moving in your life as an eclipse unfolds itself through time. Len shared the technique with me two weeks ago, when it suddenly dawned on me why I was having such a hard time ‘reading’ the chart for the Taurus solar eclipse.

It was such a striking chart, with all those planets in Taurus so close to the Sun and Moon. I kept thinking its significance for me should be obvious, arriving on my birthday as it was. But every time I looked, I drew a blank; and then I realized: with this event conjunct my Sun, it was in my ‘blind spot’.

I mentioned this in passing to Len via email that day, and he gave the best reply:

Good point about the blind spot. That is one thing a lot of astrologers ironically (but predictably) overlook with conjunctions (along with conjunctions being the beginning of a new cycle and the ephemeral merging of planetary energies). Conjunctions are like not being able to see your own eyes while standing in a circle of people holding hands. Or being too close to a person or situation to see it objectively. That is especially true of conjunction to the natal chart by transiting objects — there is not the time to ‘catch’ and consider that you have with a natal conjunction.

Here is what I would recommend as a ceremony for you during the eclipse. Have a small clay flowerpot ready with soil and some water. About 8:30 pm your time on Thursday, take a break from working on the subscriber edition, and plant several seeds in the pot. By the time they sprout, see what has come of the eclipse.

By the time they flower, see again. Check the astrology each time (sprout and flower) and compare it to the eclipse chart. It will be worth the trouble.

As a Taurus, I was thrilled by the tangible physicality of the exercise — I love digging in the dirt — and the fact that if I planted flower seeds, I would be rewarded with beauty in several weeks’ time. But there was one problem: I had agreed to go see my younger brother’s showing of his student film (in a grouping of others) at a local cinema. The showing was from 7 pm till about 9 pm; the eclipse and New Moon would be occurring at about 8:28 pm my time. Plus, it looked like some of the films might be dark, violent or just plain crass. Not exactly what I wanted to take into my psychic and emotional body during a super-special New Moon eclipse conjunct my Sun.

I’ve been really happy to see my brother so excited to go back to school to learn how to make movies, and I was looking forward to supporting him and celebrating his creation. In the last few years, however, it has become increasingly important to me to observe and honor the cycles of nature — as well as my own desires and needs. I wrote to Len:

[This is] definitely putting to me questions of what I value more: ritual observation of the natural world or social gathering; my own inner growth or familial engagement; my creativity or that of a loved one; individual desires/preferences/values or group expectations.

Or, perhaps, how committed I am to acting on those values, even if it breaks with what’s expected and feels rather alien or exposed… Definitely feeling torn between simply wanting to go and support my brother versus preferring not to ingest darkness and possibly violent imagery on such a day as Thursday is.

So — I just may be taking a gardening break mid-movie!

Len replied, “Bring the pot and seeds with you. Plant them as close to 8:30 pm as you can. That way, you can do both.” Eric seconded the idea of skipping out after my brother’s film.

Since his piece was scheduled to be the third out of six 20-minute films, I made up my mind that no matter how awkward it felt, no matter what my mother or my brother thought, I’d bring my three little flower pots full of fresh soil, two types of seeds, a full water bottle and a pencil for poking divots for the seeds in my car. I warned them both ahead of time that I’d have to step out for a few minutes close to 8:30, but that I’d come back in.

Settled into our seat, my mother asked what I had to leave for. Feeling a little silly, I told her what I was going to do and why — and she surprised me by saying she thought it sounded great. (Days later, when my brother asked, he raised an eyebrow when I told him; he’s not as into ‘woo-woo’ stuff as Mom is, and that’s ok.)

Sometime between 8:15-8:20, I put on my jacket, walked out to my car, got my supplies, and hustled over to a nearby park. The night was thick with mist, and I chose a large tree under which to do my planting.

Rain-kissed nasturtium seedling; photo by Amanda Painter.

In one pot, I put some marigold seeds I had saved from last summer, in the other two pots, some new nasturtium seeds, and I watered them. I sprinkled some marigold seeds at the base of the tree (more a gesture of offering than an act of serious gardening).

After a little standing meditation and prayer, I packed up my experiment, put everything back in my car, and returned to the movie theater to watch the last (rather regrettable) student film.

I am always happy digging in the dirt, but I returned to my seat feeling strangely liberated by this odd little experiment — mainly because it involved allowing myself to make my own rules in a way. Yes, I did so at the encouragement of others, but the idea of leaving an event so important to someone I care about in order to do something he likely would not understand felt kind of daring. It felt like genuine compromise in the best sense, since my spiritual growth, psychic health and creativity and my brother are both important to me.

The first — and only — marigold seed sprouted about six days after the eclipse; the nasturtium seeds began poking out their heads this past Monday morning.

I have been acutely aware during this eclipse season of my dreams (full of a sense of importance but, like the eclipse, feeling rather like they’re in a blind spot I can’t fully view) as well as new creative urges I think I’ve actually committed to exploring. Soon I will draw up the sprouting charts and see what emerges. Perhaps will have a follow-up post about what I learn. We’ll see.

With slippery Neptune figuring in Saturday’s eclipse so strongly, something providing extra tangibility, grounding and progress that you can see with your very eyes might be in order. If you’re interested in trying this project at home, here are some additional thoughts about it that Len shared with me:

The information about planting a seed with a spring eclipse comes to me from an illiterate old lady who passed on almost 3 years ago. Even though she could not read or write, she knew astrology, and often did it in her head very accurately. She was one of my teachers.

The chart for the first sprouting will emphasize the Moon, primary angles, and houses. The chart for the first flowering will emphasize the Sun.

The Moon is part of the eclipse. It moves faster than the Sun and therefore correlates to the shorter period of time before sprouting (as opposed to the time it takes to flower). The primary angles and houses are the only thing that move faster than the Moon, and are thus included for the same reason — giving you a revised framework for the slower-moving planets.

The Sun is also part of the eclipse, and flowers look like the Sun when they open. The slower movement of the Sun corresponds to the longer time it takes to flower (as opposed to the time it takes to sprout). Of course, you would also include looking at the angles, houses, Moon, Mercury, Venus, and anything else moving faster than the Sun at first flowering.

If you try it, have fun, good luck and let me know what you learn. Many blessings to you as we encounter the capstone to this eclipse season; and thank you, Len Wallick and Josey, for sharing your wisdom.

16 thoughts on “There’s still time: spring eclipse seed-planting experiment”

  1. Thank you, Lizzy :). The only person we can ever heal is ourself, but to be able to offer energy in the service of that and to have it received is a lovely, lovely thing.

  2. What a beautiful story, Greenstar! Grapefruit tree and humming birds – sounds like heaven on earth to me…..

  3. Michele I have a grapefruit “tree” that started over 23 years ago when I found a seed sprouting within the grapefruit I was eating (organic of course). I popped the seed in a pot of dirt just to see what would happen. It grew into a tree over 5 ft tall. I’ve kept it in the pot to keep the tree “small” and portable. It moved with me from Colorado, several times around VT and lives with me now in the Adirondacks. In the summer months it has a very important job to do: sit on the deck and provide shelter and a perching playground for the hummingbirds. I sit just a few feet away and enjoy their antics. Every fall I debate whether to just let the tree go back to the earth by leaving it out and letting the cold take it. But I remember the joy the hummers bring and how much they appreciate having the tree to hide in and of course I bring it in and care for the tree in the cold of winter so we may all enjoy it in the warmer months of summer.

    May your grapefruit seeds sprout and bring you a similar surprise and delight!

  4. What an exquisite idea. Such a lovely way of being in touch with the stars, nature and nurturing, and staying in present time.

  5. Yay, thank you, Amanda and Len! I read this earlier this evening, with plenty of time to get seeds & pots & soil ready – but read the time wrong and saw it as 12:52 edt instead of 12:25 😉 I am thinking it will still be a very “good experiment.” (Amanda, your tiny nasturtiums are so charming! So I planted nasturtiums too, plus some sunflowers)

    Actually, the mis-taking time thing has been happening for me throughout this whole eclipsical period. I can’t seem to track clock time very well, no matter how often I check it. Sometimes it’s led me to be very late for things, but just as often very early.

    I wonder if this is somehow related to the blind spot phenomenon you mentioned, Amanda, or to the “Earth-Under degree” that you mentioned, Green-Star-gazer? Not from the position of the eclipses, though, but from the position of the Uranus-Pluto square, which at 11 degrees was smack dab on my Sun in Leo and my ascendant (and Down Under degree) in Aquarius. I have a feeling at the edge of my awareness that this square is affecting me in ways that I can’t quite see (yet). Would that make sense?

    Looking forward to sprouts and flowers!

  6. Green-Star, thank you for mentioning the “Earth-Under”. I looked up the Sabian degree in opposition to my Sun and it feels spot on in understanding (my) personal natural harmony -my life’s path, Dharma.

    “A common manner of describing Hinduism among its adherents is as a way of life, as “Dharma.” It defies dogma and thus seeks to instead align the human body, mind, and soul in harmony with nature. Our very limitation is guided under a universal understanding, that of Dharma. The Atharva Veda, the last of the four books of the Vedas, utilizes symbolism to describe dharma’s role. That we are bound by the laws of time, space and causation is only a finite reality, a limitation imposed by the self-projection of the infinite Brahman as the cosmos. Dharma is the foundation of this causal existence, the one step below the infinite. Indeed, dharma is the projection of divine order from Brahman, and as such:”

    “Prithivim Dharmana Dhritam”

    “This world is upheld by Dharma”

    — (Atharva Veda)

    http://www.haryana-online.com/Culture/dharma.htm

    Amanda and Len: I am looking foward to this experiment, thank you. Soil is in pot ready to plant watermelon and pea seedlings at 9:25 PST. With patience, in anticipation, I will – “Check the astrology each time (sprout and flower) and compare it to the eclipse chart. It will be worth the trouble.”

  7. green-star — thanks for the “earth-under” info. fascinating to consider — as well as the fact that my partner has his north node one degree from my “earth-under” degree in scorpio. i’ll have to look up the symbol for that later.

    and everyone — so glad this is resonating with you all! good luck with those seeds (grapefruit and otherwise!)

    🙂

  8. carrie — technically the eclipse is tonight in your time zone (you’re three hours behind east coast, yes?). but i think doing it tomorrow will still count.

    🙂

  9. Amanda, Len, I love this!

    An unanticipated eclipse experiment of my own, if you’ll indulge me: I’m a writer at heart, but I’ve always been in somewhat soul-sucking careers–advertising, travel writing, the stuff that pays. But a couple of years ago, I was drawn to energy healing, and began studying it in earnest just over a year ago (I need to look at that chart!). It’s made a huge difference in my own health, and I’ve found it’s something I truly love and can offer from my core.

    Well, the day after the first eclipse in April, I received my certification, and this afternoon I had my first paying client. It brings me so much joy to know that something that’s so true to me can be received and appreciated by people I care about. I feel a little like Amanda’s seedlings, just bursting with joy to be alive right now.

    This eclipse season has been like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I’m so grateful to everyone here for creating such a nurturing environment to grow within.

    All my love to all of you,
    ~Kari

  10. Thanks so much, Amanda and Len!! (And teachers past.) Astrology in action. (Paragraph #2)

    I found a grapefruit! It has seeds! No soil at this point…. But I can still get it started. (Sort of the northern MacGyver way of doing things.) 🙂

  11. Wow Amanda (and Len, too!),

    That’s exactly what we will be doing this Saturday during the eclipse. Great idea and I can’t wait to do it! Thanks to both of you!

  12. Dear Amanda,

    What a beautiful and inspiring story about how to shift from “either/or” consciousness and move into “both/and” consciousness. A wonderful and practical example of finding a way thru potential objections and emotional minefields and honour what is true and authentic for the Self! Brava!

    And to Len, thank you for this lovely and magical ritual. I had not heard of this sort of ritual used in this way before. Tying it to astrology is brilliant, thank you for this! I’m going to get seeds and pots out right now!

    As for the comments about blind spots and conjunctions… I sooooo relate to this. And I’d like to add one other theoretical idea that was taught to me by Ellias Lonsdale. He talks about the degree which is 180 from our sun as being the “Earth-Under” degree. In other words, the place where the earth’s shadow would be focused if we could engineer it. The Earth-Under degree is a useful one to look up in various degree symbol systems and for me has always been a “hot” spot during transts or if a person showed up with significant planets in that same degree. The Earth-Under degree also can help us understand our own personal and karmic shadow material a wee bit better.

    Off to gather my intentions and planting materials! Thanks for this Amanda!

  13. Cool idea. I don’t have the space to do this particular thing tonight, but I’m busy cooking up a seed intention. My nodal axis is Gem—->Sag and lately I’ve been meeting a lot of travelers. I have no job, no home, no partner keeping me here. Summer is coming. I want to travel with an acoustic band on bikes this summer. A possibility of hooking up with a circus troupe in a bus also might come to be. Saturn retro in Cancer stuck to the side of my south node has kept me from wandering far from the family’s nest, at least in the flesh. It’s time to hit the road while I’m still young enough to travel without oil burning machines.

  14. Amanda: Thank you for sharing the progress of your experiment. It is gratifying to know that you have gotten so much out of it. As another wise teacher, Rudy Ballentine, once told one of his classes (in which i was a participant): “Any experiment that shows results is a good experiment.”

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