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.
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