With relief, as if only now can something — a whole season, even — catch on, the New Moon shines forth in the later degrees of Libra this Tuesday, October 21st, and to our surprise, perhaps even our resistance, what it augurs really is new. New in the sense that there is no eclipse shadowing its footsteps, new in that any emotional drop-down, or change in temperature, however far you choose to take it, is yours to determine.
This is a lunation that points to you — as one dot in a Yod, a finger in the sky traced out (“cartooned”) by Neptune in Aries (moving shortly), Saturn in Pisces (also changing over), and Uranus in Gemini, as they collectively quincunx a Libran Sun and Moon. In the ancient alphabets, Yod is known to spark or activate: its appearance here is like a pinprick of divine catalysis, a signal of recognition, or motivation: hey, you, Go. That signal is less to do with place, a destination, a clean “where to,” than it is about permission to be in present time as certain pieces — good pieces, other, more discomfiting pieces — slot in. To no longer tarry on the outskirts of a main frame, but to regard whatever frame you’re in as main and yours. We may remain waiting and wondering, our vision pre-blurred by winter’s anticipated enervations, by an approaching chaos or darkening cool. The test, as always, is to actually savor the great, ominous greige.
Besides, the New Moon brings with it a kind of lapping light. On some solar calendars, we have been squarely in diplomatic Libra land for some time, in an energy that is relational, co-creative, ever cycling between. Stationed at its window of pause and pause again. Rewrite, paraphrase. Sensitivity, hyper-attunement, is growing here on earth and Libra, well-expressed, is a consummate mediator: at once natural and defined, self-tethered, of all air signs, the most “liquid bandage.” Yet the New Moon is a much more marked lift-off, a still-blue wave of Venusian optimism, mirage-like in practice (clouded by Neptune), set, beautifully, to a tune of early morning harp song.
Whereas the medicine of recent weeks has been much sterner, no gentle plucking. It has stripped and shorn away and bodied our usual impulses, swallowed and regurgitated as we weave in and out of an ability to engage, Libra-like, with full consciousness. These are and will continue to be hard-pressed months of diamond drilling and polishing. Of profound anti-thrall. Every dimension of each possible self and incarnation path is in question, like a commitment that requires braving. We are soon advancing upon a period of Scorpionic plunge, a genre of deep core work — yes, somehow it goes on! — with which a year inevitably closes (and 2025 a 9, of endings and releases!). So I am thinking about the thousands of angels that dwell within thousands of things, and the inner strength — ours — that holds their voices in balance, as high and low notes resound from inside our actions, desires, words and needs. I want to say less and live more. How are you feeling?
Ritual
Activation-wise, motivation-wise: do a meditation that carries you 5 years backwards in time, 5 months backwards in time, 5 months forward, 5 years forward, 10 years forward. Adjust as you see fit. Hopes and dreams mode, albeit jagged. Fresh, crisp; there is much to live for, lots to come.