Learning to walk with a limp: New Moon in Scorpio 2017

This is a New Moon. Yes. But, it is so full. What I feel around me most, energetically in the general atmosphere right now, is grief. An energy that Scorpio knows well. At times, folks with heavy Pluto or Neptune aspects, actually kinda crave it. The heaviness and hollow ache of grief feels...familiar. Like home.

I don't think anyone has immunity from ever experiencing pain, heartbreak, loss...things that cause deep life altering pain that never completely goes away. The kind of pain you have to learn to live with. It isn't going anywhere. And, obviously the Sun is just going to keep coming up. Dammit. So, one foot in front of the other. One little step at a time. You learn to move forward with that pain. You don't walk away from it. You carry it. Not like a cross on your back. But, more like a physical ailment or a permanent sore spot that can't be seen with the naked eye. Only felt by you. Forever.
Eventually, we get better at walking with that limp. We become wiser to the ways in which we can properly care for it. The ways in which we can live life with it. Though, we may never fully forget. The pain that remains becomes an ever present part of us.
It's how we deal with that sense of agony that makes all the difference. We can poke harshly at it. Attempt to hang on to feelings like anger or vengeance to protect us from it. We can do things that exacerbate and keep the pain burning in several ways. Because it is the only way we feel alive? Because it is the only thing we know? Because it is the only thing that seems real? 10 million different reasons could lead us each to a much worse place for ourselves in response to these deep pits. Such as those found in Scorpio. Where Jupiter's light expands this grief and heaviness creating dark nights of the soul seeming to last eternities until insulted by the joyous rays of the Sun. Where Venus embraces the pain. Invites it in. Welcomes the death of winter and the part of the cycle where everything grows dark and dies. Where Vesta manages to muster only the dimmest of light because the air is so thick with steam and heavy.

But. When you do learn to limp along without allowing your heart to turn black. When you disallow this all consuming and encompassing sense of darkness strip you of your soul. When you keep trudging, plowing through those trenches and finally...FINALLY...push through that last bit at the end finding a place for the FIRST TIME where you can sigh, “I think I can do this”. When you get to THAT plateau, know that a different kind of elation soon becomes due. Hope. Euphoric. You are reborn. In a way.
The point where you make the decision of how to deal with that ache is pretty crucial. A true crossroads moment in which Hekate presides with her lantern and keys. I mean, usually this decision is something we make when the wounds are still pretty tender. Wounding so deep that often the “truth” of us leaks out. Our character. Who we really are. When we are alone. And, hurt. Deep. We aren't even fully able to limp yet just barely dragging ourselves.

That's where I feel we find ourselves now. We've dredged the trenches. Our hearts have broken a million ways. We've grieved. We are still grieving. Hurts have been delivered which will alter lives. Forever. No rewind. No forgetting. Pain of finality. It is a different world now in many personal spheres. That heaviness seems to ring like a dull gong across the globe. In the heart of it, even. It's core.
Yet. We must move on. We must rebirth ourselves into this new “personal reality.”
It's not pretty. No type of birth, rebirth or death is. Let me tell you, the miracle of birth when that child takes its first breath? That moment will shoot you into a place in your heart that you didn't even know you had. But, leading up to that point? When mother is laboring and child is trying to be born? It does not feel good. There is pain. There is fear. There is fatigue. There is endurance. It ain't no twinkly winkly fairy dance for anyone at that point. You know? That “in the throes of labor” for mother and child and all the pain, labor, pressure, feelings with it metaphorically embodies the passageway of where we find ourselves at this New Moon. As if we have the ability to stop that. To keep ourselves from being re-birthed. That's out of your hands, sweets. Into a new world you go in this reality or the next. You can't escape that. But, you can have a say about how it goes forward as you wobble on your shaky legs to get the hang of it, again.
Strengthen yourself with ambitions of what will be possible in this new life. Choose resolve. Survival. Gently nurture your wounds and your well earned battle scars. That poor purple heart. Be easy with them. No, the didn't treat it right...so, you had better. Because you deserve that. Dammit. Your heart deserves that.

Cut loose the dead weight that you can. Carry what you have to but let go of other cumbersomes you do not need. That aren’t' yours. That you can't control. You don't have to worry about the rebirth of anyone else or how “they” are going to push through. This is step one for you right now. That's all you have to focus on.
Until the old life died, you thought you had everything figured out. A plan. Then...BAM. K, not so much anymore. The slate has been wiped clean of that. Scorpio gives us just enough “this is NOT going to kill me” energy to make us rather obstinate in terms of survival.
Survival. With a limp. Day one.
This is where we are. The first day of learning how in the world we are going to move forward dragging this massive shadow of pain behind us because...we have to. Because we can. And because we are stronger than that.
Use this New Moon to heal. To nurture your sense of resolve. To rebirth yourself back into the world...with your limp. Loving it. Learning from it. Not allowing it to turn your heart cold. Because our hearts are stronger than that. Because love is stronger than that. Because, we must.