The Moon waxes full in Capricorn as I write this. Her aura falls over my left shoulder onto my heart. She’ll peak on July 13, 2022 at 12:37 pm MDT, at 21 degrees and join Pluto at 27 degrees. Together, they’ll continue their attempts to shock us out of our collective apathy.
If that seems harsh, know that I’m writing this from America, where power structures that serve the fear-based archaic agendas of an elite minority have yet to die.
Astrologically, we’ve been flirting with transformation for many years now. Centuries. Eons, even.
When I began writing about celestial events in 2012, Pluto, the planet where transformation originates in the unconscious underworld, and Uranus, the planet of illumination and inspiration from the future, squared off seven times within three years. The Mayan calendar saw its 5,126-year-long cycle end date and a new way of being was on the horizon.
Now just a decade later, we’ve turned away from the fresh inclusive potential of the future to recycle and suffer the wounds of patriarchy yet again.
When will history become herstory? When will it become ourstory?
When we rewrite it with truth.
I’m about to encounter my second Saturn return, a time to consider one’s life thus far and revise what lies ahead based on that review. It’s a time when creativity should flourish and the way forward should alight with possibility.
As I witness what is occurring in my country with regard to women’s rights to their bodies and thus, their power, along with what lies ahead if we remain silent, here’s what I feel compelled to share from my personal review.
Over my 57 years on this planet, more girls and women than I can count have shared their stories of violence, repression, and emotional, physical, and sexual abuse with me.
Some poured it out in vivid detail, as if I was their only chance at having a captive audience to witness their personal dreadful horror show. Others shared their stories by invitation in the sanctity of sacred circles in which I was honored to be included.
I’ve attended the funeral of one woman who opted to silence her suffering with a bullet. As her perpetrator stood upon an altar bedecked with suffocating flowers, her family and community members applauded him. Nothing of the abuse, nor her bravery and courage to endure and finally end her agony was acknowledged.
The ancient ones shared their sagas on long silent nights upon hillsides bathed in the light of the moon where my tears flowed as freely down my face as their blood did upon the land.
The children found their way to me despite all odds. One seven-year-old girl saw my simple porch light and stumbled through the woods up the hill toward it in the middle of the black night, as the adults in her life slept off their haze on the hood of their car.
She fell on the asphalt on her way to my house, making her bleeding elbow one of her fresher wounds, unlike the cigarette burn scars on her bare feet. Contacting the authorities weighed upon me more than the darkness that night, because I knew she’d soon find herself back in the situation of despair and powerlessness from which she temporarily escaped.
Another young girl, this one not yet five years old, knocked on my hotel room door while I was on a healing retreat. As I opened my door to find her in the long empty hallway of locked others, I gave eternal thanks that she chose my door instead of another that may have opened to a private hell. I recognized the same waves of relief on her father’s face upon their reunion, confirming for me that sometimes there are happier endings.
Others, young, old, and never forgotten, intimated their struggles with a gaze held in a heartbeat, a slow nod, the grasp of a hand, or an extended moment of silence at the perfect time.
Maybe these experiences and stories come to me because of my training and work in the field of psychology, but I think that’s only part of it.
I believe that my ability and capacity to bear witness to these truths originates in my celestial DNA. To me, astrology is another version of psychology – a language of the soul spoken in glyphs, energy, and archetypes, where the relationships of the celestial bodies from which we’re formed fill in the blanks.
The Full Moon in Capricorn’s light falls upon me in a way that elucidates what I’ve seen, heard, and carried. It impels me to speak it. To call out what our bodies, hearts, and minds around the world have been saying for all time.
We know. We sense. We intuit. We feel. We carry it all, and we’ve done so for far too long.
It is time to change the narrative of our story and co-create a brighter future.
Made stronger by what we know, we can and must rewrite ourstory – for all of our sakes.
What is required now transcends gender, time, and space.
The power of truth lies in the timelessness of the present moment and it belongs to those who behold and honor it.
Here’s to letting the Full Moon’s light illuminate and transform our shadows and reveal our truths.
Here’s to answering the call of all sentient beings, for the highest good of all relations.
With great love. Always, love.