This new moon comes fresh from a swipe at the stellium we have going on right now–
Sun, Moon, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, & Saturn all in Aquarius!
Aquarius is a freedom-loving sign that has connections to both Saturn (traditionally) and Uranus (contemporary).
Aquarian qualities can include progressive forward-thinking, fierce independence, analytical thinking, emotional detachment, innovative approaches, quirky mindsets, & humanitarian drives.
One of the fixed signs in astrology, Aquarius can also be quite uncompromising & determined.
Interestingly, in addition to being associated with the sign of Aquarius, both transitting Saturn and Uranus are contributing the backdrop for this lunar seed cycle. These planets are forming a square to one another, and this is probably the biggest, most overarching astrological influence for the entire year of 2021.
(The first round of exact Saturn/Uranus square occurs next week, and I plan to share more on this specific dynamic and the themes that may be activated and swirling in the collective on Feb. 17th.)
Additionally, this new moon is occurring during an exact conjunction between Venus & Jupiter, which could flavor the atmosphere with big love, brightness, warmth, generosity, and perhaps even some over-indulgence.
Yet, tuning in, I have been more aware of discordant energies at play–
Mercury turned retrograde Jan. 30th and is now backtracking through Aquarius from 26 degrees back to 11, reconnecting with Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn along the way. All of this is occurring in square to Mars in Taurus.
What does that mean?
The risk of miscommunication has been high and will continue through the retrograde.
These misunderstandings might especially hit on sore spots
and ignite the willfulness and anger of Mars.
Last week Venus was conjunct Saturn which could have stirred relational gravity and carried a weightier sense of duties, obligations, and responsibilities.
Overall, the past week or two has felt like a trip on the Gravitron.
Remember this lovely county fair ride?
The Gravitron was once my favorite amusement ride.
It looks like a spaceship and spins fast enough to create an intensified gravitational force.
You actually stick to the wall.
Brave souls turn sideways or even upside down.
The recent weeks have felt like that to me.
Like things are spinning faster, and a new order of gravity has kicked in.
In some ways this feels good– movement is measured and requires more effort than usual.
But in terms of relational patterns and miscommunications, it has felt more like trying to crawl across the Gravitron to hug someone on the other side– it’s practically impossible.
Yet, trying is somehow amusingly challenging, even laughingly absurd.
You consciously enter this space-age looking starship,
seeking perhaps to quell your boredom or simply compelled out of curiosity.
Once aboard, the door closes. You gulp.
Some guy is at the center, controlling it. You hope he is qualified and capable.
You also know this county fair was in another town last week. You hope the individuals involved in breaking down and rebuilding the ride were cautious, competent, and careful.
But hell, the risk is part of the thrill.
A lever is pushed. The wheel spins. And you are committed to the inside for the duration.
Slowly… gently… you are pushed against the wall.
Luckily, today there is padding to soften the contact. That wasn’t always the case…
Soon the force strengthens. You stick to the wall.
You bend your knees with significant effort and begin the arduous shimmy upward.
Everything feels heavy.
You lift your arm, but it doesn’t want to move.
You nervously glance around. One guy has already managed to turn upside down. Others look more nervous than you feel. Some look sick. Some smile and laugh.
The skin on your face is pressing against your skull.
Now, imagine that you’ve had an argument with a loved one. It was silly, really.
But there were harsh words exchanged and hurt feelings on both ends.
That person is on this ride, too.
Because they were upset with you, they deliberately avoided you and stayed on the opposite side.
Knowing the walls could fly off this machine,
knowing it could all end abruptly,
the past hurt seems ridiculous.
Welling up from the pit of your stomach, you feel an intense urge to make up.
In fact, it feels important to reach out. Important to make amends. Important to clear the air. Important to speak your truth, but now it comes solely as a message of love.
You simply have to get across the spinning orb.
You somehow muster the power to thrust your body forward and roll to the side, but as soon as you do, your muscles give, and now you’re stuck with your stomach against the wall.
It takes all your focus. All your will.
Somehow you manage to make it to your hands and knees, gravity pushing hard against your spine.
You can hardly hold up your head.
In tiny, painstakingly slow movements you edge your way sideways along the wall,
crawling like you haven’t since you were a baby.
The pressure in your knees and wrists is nearly alarming.
And yet, you push onward.
Maybe you make it, falling against your loved one and laughing hysterically. Maybe even crying.
More likely though, you don’t make it. The ride comes to an end.
The spinning slows, and you have to reorient your feet towards the ground.
With a soft thud you hit the ground, but everything feels weird.
The outer spinning stops, but the inner spinning continues.
The door opens, and you disembark back to Earth.
Your loved one slips off to rejoin other friends and fly off to another ride.
You wonder if they knew you were trying to make it to them.
Perhaps they saw you and thought you were just being silly.
Perhaps they didn’t want contact yet.
Maybe they did, but then it was all over,
and the rush of the crowd pushed them forward and beyond your reach.
Regardless, you are left gathering your bearings under the night sky in the midst of whirling rides and folks eating their cotton candy.
That’s the feel of recent weeks, and I’m still a bit dizzy.
I don’t know about you, but as Mercury continues its journey backwards, I’m taking extra time-
time to review plans I’ve made, time to rethink conflicts and misunderstandings of the past, time to reconsider my self-perceptions, time to revisit where I’ve been and where I’m going.
Re-visioning is in order.
Clarity and forward movement will become noticeable around Feb. 20th, but we’ll continue covering familiar ground until Mercury moves beyond the retrograde terrain on March 13th.
I am aligning with the innovative restructuring that Uranus and Saturn can bring.
And in my mind through this process, I am willingly re-boarding that spaceship, letting the Wheel spin, and finding myself dropped into all new orientations.
Wishing you all a thrilling ride,
with minimal nausea and optimal delight.