FULL MOON IN SCORPIO

MONDAY, APRIL 23, 2024, 16:49 PST

beauties & the beasties

our tolerance for pain

and tolerance for pleasure

exist on the same spectrum

a rainbow cord

under the umbrella of a sky

and a universe

too vast to touch with the mind’s eye

in your youth

something woke you to truth

it may have been beautiful

it may have been horrifying

but it was real

and it shook your heart

caused the outer petals to unfurl

and with that unfurling

came tender edges

that then wrinkled

that then browned

that dried

that fell from your flower

those petals remind us of that decaying process

as much as the flower reminds us of the blooming

and of the beginning.

i write this

to your inner child

to your thirteen-year-old self

to the twenty-two-year-old you

still searching for the way

i write this to your thirty-five-year-old you

and the forty-six-year-old you

and fifty-eight

and seventy-four.

we know not the paths we’ll tread

and thus,

look back to the familiar footsteps

for context

and their simplicity

we have to remember that everything was once terrifying

that everything was once delightful

on first encounter.

I want to tell those fragile parts of you that

no,

not everything will be alright.

that

yes

there will be reprieve

and moments of peace

amongst the thorns

and the darkness

you will smell something that soothes you

you will smell something that repulses you

and in between those contrasts

and flavors of sensation

we find boredom

and stillness

and ease

some of us are attuned to that sacred softness

and some of us are attuned more to that sacred difficulty

that we know in the hardest, excruciating moments

that difficulty will end, temporarily.

and we know in those moments of peace

that ease will end or be interrupted, temporarily.

Big week in space.

The Sun moved into Taurus Friday; the much anticipated Jupiter/Uranus conjunction on Saturday, 4/20; there was a Sun square to Pluto on Sunday, April 21st, great for dredging up old subconscious habits and tendencies that may need some attention… and the Full Moon in Scorpio is happening on Tuesday, April 23rd. And of course, Earth Day, which is gnarly that we even need to have a day to remind us about Earth. Because we are walking and existing on Gaia, we receive our nourishment our safety, everything, from Earth… but sure. One day of the year. Yay.

Saturday the height of the Jupiter & Uranus conjunction, a cycle occurring every 14 years. The energy is still potent until the 26th. Like most astrological transits, it’s not like in a Far Side cartoon where the dude in a robe with a beard and sandals is holding a magnifying glass to the Earth, angled at humans, smoted (smitted? smitten?) under the laser of concentrated light.

Think of transits as sloooooow downloads. Like, slower than the 1992 dial-up modem kinda slow. Slower than that first MTV logo you downloaded off the new fandangled internet that took six hours (and then two additional hours for your laser jet to print it for your scrapbook).

There isn’t necessarily a moment when these transits “hit” us. Maybe it is the subtle becoming substantial and louder from a distance until we can’t ignore the presence of IT.

Whatever IT is, we long for IT, are haunted by IT, are avoiding IT, journeying towards IT, and dreaming of IT.

The Taurus/Scorpio axis is in this same conversation, dancing into eternity with the question of if not now— when?

Taurus expresses stabilization as winter dissolves. It is a season of timing — knowing when to plant the seeds, and when to wait. What Scorpio reminds us— the tension — is that now is what we have. There is a time limit to our resources, our bodies, and our cells. Death is coming. Impermanence is unquestionable. Do not waste this precious moment.

Without Scorpio, Taurus may take for granted the pleasures of slowing down. And without Taurus’ patience, Scorpio would be missing the pleasantry of slowing the pace, experiencing the quiet, soft spaces between moments of tension that demand our attention and participation.

I sent you a note regarding the Jupiter/ Uranus conjunction and its 14-year cycle. In the path of this connection, there is a whole phase of integration work happening — the last time it conjoined, the separation, the opposition, the return journey, and the reconnection.

Jupiter is a planet of expansion (it’s big), optimism, and esoterically — self-mastery. It is the embodiment of vision, the experience of faith, and the stupid or genius leaps we make on “the long walk back to ourselves” (ani difranco sang that). Uranus is an outlier as the first outer planet, associated with chaotic undertones, the authenticity it takes to be and embrace our inner weirdo, as well as embodying the collective consciousness— this is metaphor’d in electricity, technology, and the internet.

This is a reinvention moment. A “f*ck it— I’m going to do it anyway” moment. This may be a release point for you building from a lot of undercurrents. In Taurus, there may be themes about safety, and security. It could be about stabilizing yourself so that you may continue to grow with a sturdy foundation. Depending on where this conjunction activates in your chart, and what natal planets it may be activating for you — there can be a lot of unexpected happening these days. This could be a fruitful moment or a moment where you just need a whole lot of rest. Be in touch if you’d like to schedule some time to talk astrology and your world.

Remember: we are not meant to be productive 365 days a year. We are not built for consistency because we as biological beings— we aim for homeostasis because it is not a static state. Doing what you can to stabilize your body (Taurus) so you can gather some clarity and/or breakthroughs (Uranus) to know what’s next to build the vision (Jupiter) of your journey.

Eat your veggies. Drink your water. Snack. Sleep. Move your body. Seek pleasure. Seek softness.

When we are well rested, we are more effective.

NOTES FROM THIS ONE…

Aries season was a lot.

I broke my finger. We moved on the day of the solar eclipse… then we had to move again because of… bedbugs.

All of this movement and destabilization offered some palpable insight into my insecurities. So many unknowns at this moment. What is it that I want?

The effects of the Aries/Libra axis (active in the eclipses) teach us about relationships and where we are being too ME ME ME and not enough WE or too YOU YOU YOU and not enough ME.

We move into this Taurus/Scorpio energy and have to take into consideration what we WANT. What DRIVES us? What gets our hearts pounding and our mouths salivating and what calls our souls back into our bodies?

Sometimes we are doing it, living our dream— but we are on autopilot, we’ve lost our presence in the process, and we grow bored or collapse into a routine that no longer feels fresh because it doesn’t seem new or shiny any more.

There’s a novelty in new.

I had a teacher some years ago, Germán Bravo-Casas, in New York City— a yoga instructor, philosopher, and beautiful human. *It occurred to me that he may have transitioned, and I wouldn’t have known— my last email from his newsletter is over a decade old. He shared with his students an anecdote I will never forget:

Let every kiss be the first kiss.

Let every touch be the first touch.

What he meant was that in our relationships, in our lives, we can grow bored and clumsy. We lose the awe of a really good strawberry. We lose the sparkle of a lover’s touch when we’ve shared a bed and a bathroom for too long.

Germán (Pronounced with an ‘H’) emphasized that it is our development of consciousness, up to our practices, and our stabilizing the mind through discernment, discipline, meditation, and right mindfulness that we can create freshness in every moment and experience extraordinary in the ordinary.

It is in recognizing the temporaryness of the world that we, in contrast, can appreciate it. It’s vulnerable for me to admit this, but I dwell on Dragon's (my hound dog) death to a morbid degree. He is beside me now, and I often search for his breath, the movement of his body. I pet him and adore him and perhaps it is in my obsession with his tragically short life span that I can love him even more— though his departure may break me emotionally when it comes.

Scorpio shows us death so that we may appreciate life in Taurus. And Taurus breeds hope for Scorpio knowing that what is so sweet is degraded, compost, to provide nourishment to the next round of growth.

stay inspired.

ursidae