Dear Friend and Reader:
Watching the my chart animation program go by in realtime, sometimes I get the feeling that I have the speed set too fast. We’re well past third quarter Moon, sailing right into the vernal equinox. The Moon is in Leo; next comes Virgo; then the Full Moon.
How recently it seemed dark around the clock, up in this hemisphere.
Equinox is a time of balance and rebirth. I must admit that for much of my time studying the cycles, I have overlooked the vital quality of this time of equanimity, of the harmony of male and female energies, and of a gentle tipping point.
The symbol of the egg, taken over as part of Easter, goes back for many centuries BC, and the egg is the container of gestation; it’s also a symbol for our existence within the cosmos. The Full Moon arriving within about 36 hours of the Sun’s ingress to Aries is going to test and stretch that balance, and it’s testing it right now. Note that the energy of future aspects is not contained entirely in the future — it’s integrated into what is developing right now. One excellent way to use astrology is to get in sync with what is developing.
The Full Moon aspects the Aries Point (with the Sun on the Aries Point), as well as Mars, Pluto, Pallas Athene (politics, advocacy, strategy) and a Centaur planet called Bienor (Everyman). Suffice it to say, this is impassioned, dramatic Full Moon energy but it bears the mark of breaking a deadlock that is so vital to the energy of the Moon opposite Sun aspect.
We have a few days before this energy reaches its peak. Personally, I’m going to take up this project of identifying the impasses in my life, and setting the intention for letting them go. I am, as I write, aware of this. Each day that goes by represents the unfolding of a different story for everyone. For some, big aspects such as this, which draw in many potent points in the sky and in our natal charts, are liberating times. Often the most challenging planetary picture can feel exhilarating.
For others, processes like we’re experiencing are profoundly frightening, when we feel called upon to let go of everything we know and are familiar with — or so it seems. We really don’t know what we’re doing, or what we’ve done, till we have some perspective, but fear is a force that calls for respect and deserves to be given a voice.
I know that there’s a superstition floating around that says when you reveal your fear, you cast a vote for making it real. I prefer another approach, which is to allow the fear to speak, listen to what it’s saying, and respond appropriately. Think of that voice as coming from a frightened child. If a kid were afraid that there were monsters under the bed, do you think he or she would feel better if they revealed that fear to an adult, or kept it bottled up inside?
