In ye olde times, astronomers noted that the sky/stars moved one direction, while the planets moved against this backdrop, in the opposite direction. (They were called ‘wanderers’). Thus, symbolically, planets came to represent individual will/drives.
So when they go into apparent, backward motion – aka retrograde – they are in effect being forced back into the collective flow of the universe. Something to keep in mind during Mars’ retrograde (since Oct 30/22, until Jan 12/23 + shadow period for another 2 months) as this planet epitomizes personal will/drive. If you are born with any planets retrograde (most people are), you may find those planets are not as co-operative when ‘forced’ to conform, yet they do hold a special wisdom that seems to operate at a more natural pace than direct planets.
Mercury is the “god of retrogradation”, back and forth three times a year, for about three weeks+, and Pluto spends about half the year in reverse. Venus makes a star with her precise retrogrades…i.e, most of the planets are on a schedule. But Mars’ cycle, like the planet-god, can be a bit rough and unpredictable. And because Mars thrives on being adversarial, he’s especially effective when direct, i.e., going solo, against the grain, doing his own, ego independent thing and doing it fast.
In retrograde, not only is he being asked to slow down and march to a beat not emanating from his own drum, but…ever see a scorpion get ready to strike? Or a ram get ready to butt? They back up first – a sign you should get out of the way unless you are up for a battle to the death or at least a bad headache.
I think of Mercurial trickster Bugs Bunny as embodying the flow, the Wu Wei, while his continually confounded adversaries – Yosemite Sam (in particular), Marvin Martian or Elmer Fudd – as embodiments of frustrated Mars. Single-minded, angry child-men just can’t stop seeking his medicine.* (Is that why he says,”Nyeh, what’s up, Doc?”) Backfiring is such a great, Mars retrograde word.
In Gemini (Mercury’s sign), we may feel Mars’ frustration in all areas of communication. It can feel like Mercury Rx on steroids, when things go awry. Personal will and drive aren’t able to function as we’d like and patience must be exercised. If you have a strong, natal Mars, it can be especially frustrating, like driving with the breaks on or getting red lights at every intersection.
However, Mars requires this training in order to be a good samurai, in any area of life, it is actually good for his focusing ability. (Sagittarius Mars understands this, those with this placement will often be into Martial arts or some kind of channeled discipline for their inner warrior).
Who could forget this scene from Kurosawa’s epic film, The Seven Samurai? (Both Kurosawa and Mifune were Aries, btw). Which swordsman has mastered Mars retrograde?
*Astrologer Caroline Casey said that ‘the oppressor seeks the medicine of those they oppress’, am not sure whether she was quoting another.
It’s a Full Moon in Virgo, trining Uranus in Taurus. The Moon holds memories and Uranus can bring up very distant ones, from past lifetimes, but also future or parallel lives, since Uranus is not bound by Saturn timelines. Taurus is romantic, loves ancestry and Virgo loves to record and categorize. So let’s gaze into the crystal, Full Moon ball for clues to each sign’s lunar history…
Moon in Aries
Winged Athena holding a Helmet
Moon of mythic heroes and epic, battle sagas.
Yours is an ancient soul lineage of indigenous warriors or Amazons, thus combat is in your blood and likely your mother’s.
Patrick Henry’s immortal slogan, “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death” was first uttered on March 23, 1775, Aries season.
In Valhalla (Old Norse: Valhöll – “hall of the slain”), the Moon is always in Aries. Valkyries are your guardian angels.
You are nurtured by taking initiative, protecting life and being honored for your deeds.
Moon in Taurus
Crescent Moon, crescent horns of an Egyptian Bull
The Hathor Moon of milk and honey, that which the sacred cow jumped over. When people say ‘as old as the Moon’ they are talking about the Taurus Moon.
When the sensual, hoofed beauties of the first lunar calendars were painted in caves, to when the first Goddess temples were built, to the Golden Age of Egypt, you were there, worshiping and being worshiped. But your one, constant temple is nature itself.
You are nurtured by gentle breezes carrying the scent of Spring green, good food and sound sleeps.
Moon in Gemini
Medieval kinkiness
The Bardic Moon, the inconstant Moon of Romeo and Juliet and Courtly Love. By listening intently to the chattering of birds, you developed language, and later, writing, in order to describe the complexities of human emotion.
Like Cyrano, your words were often commissioned by enamored knights, to whom you generously offered delivery service. Your (in)famous dexterity was honed picking chastity belt locks by candlelight.
You are nurtured by your other half and by imagining things into being.
Moon in Cancer
Porcelain Crab
The Moon of the Great Mother Ocean, conductor of tidal movements and the cycles of rebirth.
Also the keeper of memories, hence Mnemosyne, mother of the 9 Muses.
Yours is a matriarchal cult that precedes temples, when Lucy walked the shores of Africa, nursing Monkey Jesus. You’ve never forgotten a single one of your infinite children (or loves) and hug them all to your breast, when full.
You are nurtured when cooking soul food for your tribe and by being in sync with the colour of your moods.
Moon in Leo
Roman Cybele
The Dramatic Moon, Cybele’s Moon.
In the Mountain Lion Mother’s temple, you took part in orgiastic rituals, as her half-wild attendants beat drums and danced, while ecstatic devotees offered their self-severed testicles.
You have never forgotten such scenes of devotion, and, while you don’t expect blood offerings these days, you’d still appreciate the occasional drum roll, upon entering a room, thank you very much.
You are nurtured by the self-confidence you feel when giving and receiving creative encouragement.
Moon in Virgo
Our Lady of Guadalupe
The Isis or Holy Mother Moon, Moon of witches, healers and midwives.
In the distant past, some of you were responsible for keeping records, including the cycles, names and many uses of plants, others, for libations and purification rituals. Later, in the age of ‘enlightenment’, the first group went on to study medicine, while the others chose a life of the cloth, continuing to serve the Holy Mother, under a different guise.
You still like pure food and being on both first and Latin name terms with the plants in your garden, where you are nurtured and grounded by making improvements…so your cats say.
The Manna Moon, and Moon of Temperance.
Your lineage introduced the concept of ‘fairness’ as well as the legalities around trade, marriage and other civilities, based on what was later understood as karma, or, in olde Egypt, the Weighing of Hearts.
Ever since your Greek days, you have been dividing the Gods and Goddesses of your psyche, assigning to each a chord or rhythm and trying different combinations, listening carefully for harmony and discord. You are nurtured by finding the harmonic ones, in all areas of life.
Moon in Scorpio
Hekate, by William Blake
Hekate’s Moon, Moon of sorcery and shamanic healing.
The casting and removal of hexes is in your soul lineage.
In your own illness, you flew to the land of the dead and back, thus were selected to preside over this transition – be it by returning there, entranced, to retrieve lost souls, preparing the dead, or guiding the deceased towards rebirth.
The elite of your tribe wrote the manuals (The Tibetan and Egyptian Books, for example), while those on the ground practiced midwifery or donned the anonymous, black hood. Residual, last words of the condemned still echo, occasionally, so these days you try to focus on the rebirth part.
Nocturnal animals are your familiars and deep, healing love, your nurturing tonic.
Moon in Sagittarius
Centaur Reading, by Odilon Redon
The Artemis-Diana Moon, former gypsy, nomad, traveler, with lifetimes of stories to draw from.
You are a semi-retired Sindbad who continues armchair time-traveling to communicate with yourself, in long ago and far away places.
Like Chiron, you are nurtured by nature, freedom and independence, as well as learning and seeking. “Don’t fence me in” is your motto, yet you ultimately seek that place to call home.
You forgive but you don’t forget, because why would you leave out any part your life’s novel ?
[My own lineage, Moon of my mother, both maternal grandparents, aunt and some of my cousins on her side, as well as my paternal grandfather and aunt!]
The Druid Moon or Pan Moon, the old, wise one, behind the scenes power mover, shaker, money maker, who knows the inner workings of the outer world and how to keep persona and personal separate.
Like your Stonehenge ancestors, you rarely, if ever, divulge your secrets, and distrust all sycophants or anyone offering a free lunch, for that matter.
Somewhere in your past, you were the scapegoat, and that fear still haunts your memory.
You are nurtured by the finer things in life and may have a dark or gallows sense of humour.
Moon in Aquarius
[artist?]The cosmic crystal (frozen fire) Moon, holding all the resonance codes of creation.
In your telepathic lineage, communication is equal between all lifeforms. You may be/have been one of the extra-terrestrials advancing our technology in preparation for the Aquarian Age.
You have emotions, it’s just that you find them too heavy for communicating through time and space and one can’t bend spoons with them. Also, because electricity travels faster and is more deadly in water, you are wary of electrocuting others should your emotions get the better of you.
You are nurtured by freeing minds.
The Mystic Moon, where imposed, grid time and other boundaries seem like drag nets.
Long ago, when the water dried up and left you in the middle of a desert, you began walking (or dancing) the mystical path, in bare feet and have never stopped.
Nurtured by that which glimmers, you understand we are living in an illusion, but most people don’t know how to and you can’t bear to watch them suffer. You are frequently late, since your clock is melting and crawling with ants, but the love you give more than makes up for it.
Ah, Sex and War, Love and Death – the essential elements of any lasting narrative. In the western hemisphere, the sacred co-mingling of Mars, all sweaty from battle, and Venus, full of oysters, injects red life force into earthly vegetation each Spring (Aries and Taurus, but also planet Venus in Aries). In Autumn (Libra and Scorpio, but also planet Venus in Scorpio), they unite again in death, Venus committing sati on the bonfire and lonely Mars turning into a wolf that will eat the sick and weak who can’t survive the winter. Adieu, until next time around. The cycle begins, ends and begins again with this union of opposites. Or, as the tantric, Indian Goddess, Lalita puts it, “Like the Sun and Moon coming together in an eclipse, consciousness comes into being via orgasm.” (Funny how the first and last letters of that word spell OM).
Two versions of Indian Goddess Lalita, Babylonian ‘Queen of the Night’
Lalita means ‘she who plays.’ Her many incarnations include Lilith, Lilitu, Lili, Layla, Lola, Lulu, Lolita, etc, all having nocturnal, sexual or demonic connotations. As Hebrew Lilith, she is Adam’s first wife, the serpent in the Tree of Life who teaches him (or Eve, depending which version) “carnal” self-knowledge, i.e. the mysteries of sex, life and death. She is not made from his rib, either, but from earthly muck. When God expels her for her independent spirit (refusing to lie beneath her husband in missionary position), she flies away to where the wild things are, and, finding it preferable to subservience, becomes the prototype for sexual demoness, vamp and devil-humping witch, eating babies and seducing holy men in their sleep. Independent yes, but also deranged. Her name means ‘screech owl’ or ‘ghost.’
The cycle of existence is hard-wired by desire, Scorpio’s raison d’etre. During the Sun’s passage through Scorpio/the 8th house (sex, death, regeneration, energy, healing, shared resources, financial obligations and the occult), from Oct. 23 – Nov. 22, we honour the Sacred Dead and all taboos associated with them. During the few days of Samhain, All Soul’s Eve, Hallowe’en and Dia de Los Muertos, the veil between worlds is as thin as a spider’s web, allowing spirits to attend graveyard picnics and inhabit jack-o-lanterns. On Armistice/Remembrance Day, Nov. 11, we pause to honour those who, in the spirit of Mars (traditional ruler of Scorpio), sacrificed their lives in battle. This year, it will fall on 11-11-11, a date many are getting excited or apprehensive about, considering the power of master numbers 11 and 33.
The word ‘taboo’ originally meant sacred, and indeed, sacred things were kept under veils (where we get the word secret). It later came to mean something forbidden by society. Incest, cannibalism, bestiality and patricide are examples of common taboos. Then there are cultural variants, like the untouchability of the bereaved or of menstruating women, both considered ‘unclean.’ Even today, a woman may refer to her period as ‘the curse’ and drugs are routinely prescribed for blocking messy menstruation altogether. The very essence of sex and death, menstrual blood is even more powerful than blood spilled in battle, therefor extremely taboo.
Teenage menstruation fears gone haywire in Carrie, Bleeding Goddess at Kamakhya Temple, Assam
While the mysteries of womb and grave may be a secret, they are not the property of anyone. They are universally inherent in our DNA and as individually expressed as the infinite forms of nature. Yet, those who govern societies do not want people to be in charge of their own sex, death and regeneration. Whoever owns the rights/rites to these forces has all the power. Therefor, strict rules and guidelines for birth, sexual practices, soul redemption and corpse management are imposed on the populace (while those at the top often practice the complete opposite). Some of these are necessary for health reasons, or simply to protect people – it’s probably not a great idea to eat the deceased, for example, and forced sex with anyone is a violation of natural law – but mostly it’s an 8th house issue of controlling other peoples’ resources. It’s all energy, just like money or food.
Plutonians harnessing Venusian power in Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut
Another attribute of Scorpio is that of the collective nemesis or shadow. Since Scorpio is a feminine sign, this usually means feminine shadow – the harlot, devouring mother or hag – witches who channel the untamed forces of nature. And so we are divided, according to what’s deemed permissible. It is not just women who are affected by the censorship of essential parts of our being, either, since we are all composed of both masculine and feminine, feminine being the soul. Dreams, theatre and film portray our disconnected parts as characters in conflict and resolution. Ancient Greek drama was, essentially, group therapy. In the theatrical tradition of Hallowe’en, it’s socially acceptable (and fun) to dress up as our shadows or alter-egos and parade them proudly, witches being by far the most common. In recent years, Zombie Walks have become hugely popular, with thousands of participants of all ages. (I guess eating braaaaiiins must be therapeutic for a populace so dependent on artificial intelligence).
Beauty’s compassion breaks the Beast’s spell of duality, and Scorpio Winona feels Dracula’s pathos.
In Tarot, the Devil is shadow or dark twin to our solar self, banished to the underworld of our unconscious. Our repressed impulses live there, like creatures of the night, creating disquieting thoughts, illusions and dreams. Traditionally the shadowy, lunar feminine presides over these, but with Pluto and Neptune now on the scene, we can’t be blaming the Moon for everything. (Plus we’ve now an astrological, Dark Moon Lilith).
The chained doppelgangers in card 15 represent our dual nature, which must ultimately be reconciled. This is really the theme of Tarot’s visual narrative, with the climax – a complete breakdown of the ego, followed by a period of grace, darkness and rebirth or ‘dark night of the soul’ – occurring between these two cards, mirroring conception. In ancient astrology, the sign of Gemini was ruled by the Sun.
In extreme cases, the doppelganger can take on a life of its own and prey on the energies of its other. Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, which came to Robert Lewis Stevenson in a dream, is one such cautionary tale. Another is, of course, Dracula, the promiscuous, cannibalistic, murdering necrophile and most beloved Hallowe’en persona. Babylonian lilitu and medieval succubi were early inspiration for vampire lore, but it was Phillip Burne-Jones’ painting of a female vampire, inspired by Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel, that started the whole ‘vamp’ thing in popular culture. After viewing the painting, Burne-Jones’ cousin, Rudyard Kipling wrote his poem, The Vampire, which later became the script for A Fool There Was, the silent film that gave Hollywood’s myth-making industry it’s own Lilith, Theda Bara. Even her name – an anagram for Arab Death – relates back to the Babylonian demoness. (Venus in Scorpio until November 1 is the Vamp).
Man-made vamps: Burne-Jones’ gothic and Fox’s lady, Theda Bara
Some Scorpios have been accused of vampirish tendencies, thriving on the life energy of others. Though Scorpio expresses the urge to dominate/have power over life, it’s higher resonance is redemption through love, so it has multiple symbols: Scorpion – basic instincts are fear and desire. It amasses power for it’s own gain and stings itself when cornered. Eagle – sees from the heavens, rather than the ground and amasses power in order to redistribute to the whole. Phoenix – rises from it’s own ashes, symbol of self-regeneration par excellence. Dove – redeemer or Christ figure of eternal, pure love/light.
Most Scorpios are a mix of scorpion and eagle, some are phoenixes, few are doves – but all are redeemers in one way or another, for better or worse.
Thoth Tarot Death card, devouring Mother Kali
Indian Vedic astrology has not rushed to adopt Uranus, Neptune and Pluto as the new rulers of Aquarius, Pisces and Scorpio. It also still uses the sidereal system (tropical is commonly used in the west, relying on seasonal equinoxes rather than constellations) and the traditional calendar combines both solar and lunar cycles. Between mid-October and mid-November, it’s Libra season there and Hindus world-wide celebrate Diwali, a five day ‘festival of lights’ celebrating the triumph of good over evil, during which moral order or karma is restored. There are more variations than I’m qualified to write about, but the worship of Lakshmi, Goddess of wealth, wisdom and happiness is the main event. Lakshmi’s four arms represent the four principals of Hinduism – Dharma (duties/philosophy), Samsara (cycle of rebirth), Karma (right action/cause and effect) and Moksha (liberation from Samsara). She also wears red and sometimes rides an owl.
