Between You and Me: The "Supermoon" Lunar Eclipse

The first Full Moon of autumn is upon us (exact 10:53 p.m. EDT). It also happens to be a Harvest Moon (the Full Moon that occurs closest to the Autumnal Equinox), a total Lunar Eclipse, and a "Supermoon" (i.e., the Moon is closer than 224,834 miles to the Earth; although Supermoons are not rare, this particular Supermoon has the distinction of being 2015's closest one).

I just went downstairs to gaze at this action-packed Full Moon rising in the early evening sky; not even the nearby zillion-watt streetlamp could blot out its magnified beauty. The very sight of it reminded me that when any planet is rising in a natal chart, its energy is extremely important to the native. No matter that the planet's seeming hugeness is an optical illusion; the Moon is actually closer to the Earth when it is directly overhead, at what astrologers refer to as the Midheaven or MC position. When a planet rises, it looks bigger from our perspective on Earth, and so takes on a greater significance.

The significance of this particular Full Moon / Harvest Moon / Supermoon / Lunar Eclipse is not one-size-fits-all; it depends on which Houses the Full Moon falls in your own particular chart. Different Houses represent different areas of life, such as self-identity, finances, communication, home, creativity, work, travel, and friends. As well, if you have one or more planets that fall at 4 to 5 degrees of Libra or Aries, and to a lesser degree, 4 to 5 degrees of Cancer or Capricorn, those planets will modify the energy of the Full Moon for better or worse. For example, the Sun is fast approaching a conjunction to my Uranus at 5 Libra, and I have been feeling the energy of the upcoming Full Moon as jangly yet highly creative, to the extent that I feel as if I am having a major breakthrough (a Uranian specialty). I've also had a hell of a headache (Aries rules the head). And with the Sun in my 1st House and Moon in my 7th, self-identity and relationship issues are demanding my attention.

That said, no matter what Houses the Full Moon falls in your own particular chart, no matter what natal planets (if any) the Full Moon connects with, the energy of a Sun in Libra opposing Moon in Aries is bound to highlight relationships (Libra) and self-identity (Aries). Oppositions always bring a sense of tension and a desire to resolve a particular issue, and it is especially important on a Full Moon to acquire a resolution, a satisfying climax, in order to go through the waning Moon for the next two weeks with a sense of accomplishment instead of disappointment. This is because the solar and lunar energies are of utmost important to us all, symbolizing the ego and consciousness (Sun) and the id and emotions (Moon): who you are (Sun) and what you feel and need (Moon).

The "I am"-ness of the Sun is expressed with difficulty in the sign of Libra, which defines itself through others. The Moon in Aries, by contrast, wants to take care of itself first and foremost; if it can't be first in line for whatever its heart desires, and it can't cut into that line for whatever reason, it would rather go home. Libra is famous for its diplomacy; Aries refuses to compromise. You can see, therefore, that this Full Moon will put the spotlight on "me" vs. "we." If you ask which one will win, the Sun or the Moon, you have already lost -- for even one loser in this setup will be so wounded that it will do its damnedest to make life miserable for the winner. Aggressive Aries tends to shoot first and ask questions later; at the very least, it will stomp off very loudly to be alone. And sweet, charming Libra can act pissy and passive-aggressive in its "Whatever you say or do is fine with me, dear" proclamation that makes it crystal clear that it is not, in fact, fine with whatever its partner says or does, even if Libra itself can never seem to reach a definite decision about anything.

Tonight, as Earth's bronze-red shadow passes over the huge, perfectly round face of the Moon, try to be honest with yourself about what you really want in a relationship (if indeed you want a relationship at all -- you may very well not, which is fine as long as you are being honest about your needs). And consider what you can give to, not just take from, your sweetie. This last piece of advice is especially pertinent if you are not a Libra or do not have Libra Rising, a Libra Moon, or an emphasized 7th House; if you have a Libra-ish chart, you would do better to consider yourself first for a change. Just remember that first does not mean "only," and that some sort of balance should be attempted no matter what sign you happen to be.

Autumnal Equinox: An Early Clue to the New Direction

Greetings, dear stargazing readers:

I am midway through The Beatles Are Here!, a not-bad look-back book edited by Penelope Rowlands, which indirectly inspired the subtitle of this post -- a line from my favorite scene from the first Beatles movie, A Hard Day's Night. George (my favorite Beatle when I am in spiritual, searching mode, as opposed to cynical-but-idealistic, kickass-but-vulnerable John mode) accidentally wanders into the office of an ad/PR firm and is pressed into offering his opinion on some new shirts said firm is flogging ("They're grotty!") and an "It Girl" on a teen TV show ("We turn the sound down on her and say rude things."). When the Brit Mad Man kicks George out, the receptionist suggests he may be "an early clue to the new direction," but it is mistakenly decided that he is "just a troublemaker."

And what has this Beatleology to do with astrology? Well, today marks the first day of fall, aka the Autumnal Equinox, aka the Sun's ingress into Libra. On this first day of the Sun in Libra, its scales are perfectly balanced between day and night, but from here on out, the night force grows until the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. The beginning of all four Cardinal signs marks the beginning of the four seasons: the early clue to the new direction.

Today, at least in the County of Kings (aka Brooklyn), it still feels like summer -- but Mars is still clinging to fiery Leo (the last degree) and Mercury is still Retrograde. What is highly significant about this particular Equinox is that the Sun is conjunct the North Node of the Moon at 0 degrees of Libra. I do not normally spend much time or energy on the Nodes, as they are not planets but points arrived via inscrutable formula having to do with angles on the ecliptic; however, a Sun-NN conjunction at not only a critical degree of a sign, but at the beginning of a season, makes me sit up and take notice. The North Node of the Moon faces toward the future, whereas the South Node faces the past. Today therefore marks an unusual opportunity to break free from the shackles of past disappointments and believe with all your heart that today is truly a new day of a new season in your life.

Strengthening your opportunity to take advantage of this significant and uncommon conjunction is the sextile between the Sun and Saturn, which is now 0 degrees of Sagittarius. We last saw Saturn in Sagittarius in mid-June; the summer of 2015 was marked by Saturn's three-month return to Scorpio, urging us all to confront challenges and limitations involving sex, death, transformation, the occult, and partners' resources. Now that Saturn is firmly back in Sagittarius for the next two years, another early clue to the new direction involves harnessing your desire to communicate in relationships (Libra) to your desire to hone and share your knowledge and philosophy (Saturn in Sagittarius).

With Mercury still Retrograde for another two weeks, this is also a good time to pay a visit to the Lost & Found and retrieve something of value you'd thought was gone forever. (This need not be a material object, but a memory or a solution to a problem.) People with whom you'd lost touch are also likely to reenter your life, and it is up to you to decide if they fit into your own new direction.

Sun-Uranus Opposition: Like Mairzey Doats, Jangly and Jivey

Though it was more of a gray night than a white night, as I managed to sleep a little bit here and there, it was such a restless, scattered night I might as well have not slept at all. This is pretty much to be expected on a Sun-Uranus opposition (exact today at 4:58 p.m. ET) on an upcoming Lunar Eclipse (exact at 6:51 a.m. tomorrow).

The signs involved in both oppositions are Libra and Aries, so we must all contemplate who we are in relation to others, especially significant others, while not shelving our individual selves. This challenge can result in a pretty heavy identity crisis, especially because Mercury is currently retrograde in Scorpio; it is hard to know exactly what to think, and neither Libra nor Aries is able to truly feel, albeit for very different reasons. As a sociable air sign, Libra's MO is communication, harmony, and partnership, yet is uncomfortable dealing with dark, messy intimacy and knowing what it truly wants; by contrast, as an aggressive fire sign, Aries knows exactly what it wants, must be the first in line (just as it is the first sign of the zodiac), and if that means stepping on others' toes, so be it. Aries personifies the rugged invidualist, the polar opposite of Libra's "you complete me" orientation.

Do keep in mind that I am not claiming all Libra Suns are pretty party people, nor are all Aries Suns pushy me-firsters; I am talking now about the purity of each sign's expression, not an entire chart that includes the Moon and all the other planets in our solar system. Depending on all these other planetary placements besides the Sun, it is entirely possible to be an antisocial Libra or a meek Aries.

Perhaps too much emphasis is given to eclipses, but if you know that the upcoming Lunar Eclipse falls near your Sun or Moon, other planets, or the angles of your chart, it will certainly be more significant than a regular Full Moon.

The Saturn Opposition; or, Trying NOT to Be "As a Dog Returns to His Own Vomit, so a Fool Repeats His Folly."

To my dear readers who have been waiting since late August for a new post:

In case you wondered where I've been for the past month, here is my answer: on the dark side of Saturn. All other transits and progressions have taken a backseat to the Harsh Taskmaster. My Saturn opposition was exact over the weekend, and now that it's over, I feel tired. And OLD. My lower back aches; it's high time for me to get back into my yoga routine -- not the fashionable kind in which one sweats like a pig in a room whose temperature rivals a summer day in Miami, or socializes after class with a glass of wine in the studio with fellow Lulumon-pants-wearing yoga students and enviably toned, toe-ringed instructor, but the kind in which one rolls out an old sticky mat on the living room store and goes through all the basic asanas -- Nag Champi incense optional. Ironically, the practice of yoga was a gift I gave to myself on my Saturn Return in the spring of 2000. I did it three or four times a week, sometimes more, sometimes less if I was under the weather or in the middle of relocating. But Saturn transiting through the opposite sign of Scorpio has nearly killed off this dedication. In fact, Saturn in Scorpio has been kicking my ass in many areas.

I don't want to fight Saturn in Scorpio, really I don't, but for nearly two years this transit has rejected my overtures of friendship. Feeling thusly dissed does not tickle, as I am a super-sensitive Cancer (with a stellium including the Sun, Mars, and Mercury) who also has a Scorpio Moon and Neptune in so-late-it's-last-call Scorpio. You would think Saturn in Scorpio would want to be not necessarily my BFF (since Saturn in any sign is no sign's BFF) but my stern yet fair mentor...someone who can truly show me the way to go home.

It could very well be that I am just a spoiled brat. Perhaps Saturn in Scorpio has been exactly what I'd wished for. After all, I managed to collect EUC through 2013 (when Congress cut it off for all longterm out-of-workers); hold on to my below-market-rate apartment; write approximately 250 pages of a children's book that shines with potential and, I daresay, timelessness; and maintain a relationship with one person who still seems to be, after many ups and downs and ins and outs, THE person for me. Though my health has not been great (Saturn in Scorpio has manifested in multiple UTIs -- since last November I've been taking prescription-strength cranberry pills as a preventive measure), it could be a lot worse. I know that I am hardly the only person in this "new normal" economy who has been jerked around with potential jobs that all came to naught; not the only not-funny real-life cartoon character known as the Floundering Freelancer. Hell, I understand that I am not the only writer-artist-mystic-astrologer who has been suffering from creative constipation. I get it.

On the other hand, maybe I don't really get it at all.

Saturn is not just about hard lessons, structure, limitations, depression, and "growing up," but also about parenting. I have so-late-it's-last-call Capricorn (the sign that is ruled by Saturn) on my 5th-house cusp of children, and exactly three weeks ago tonight I became the proud adopted mother of a young black cat (most likely a 2013 Scorpio with a Taurus or Cancer Moon, since he loves food and is extremely affectionate). His name is Little Franklin. His middle name is Coltrane. His last name, at least for now, is Gardstein. When he is being a total mental case, he is Franklinstein.

Some of you readers may recall the grief I recounted regarding Miss Meowsers, my boyfriend's darling gray tabby girl who died in May, an hour past Mother's Day. I miss her still; she will always be the Pioneer Cat in my heart, the amazing feline who turned me into a Crazy Cat Lady. But she was a preexisting condition; along with two daughters of the human persuasion, she came along with my boyfriend. Little Franklin is the Cat of Abundant Intentionality.

Unlike some of my friends, I was not nearly cool enough to have Little Franklin enter my life by lurking outside the front door of my building or following me home from the subway. No, LF did not drop into my lap. I spotted his photo among scores of other eligible kitties when I'd officially taken a break from cat cruising -- it was the last week of August, my boyfriend was going away for five days with his daughters, and we had been wrangling with the issue of cat adoption for the past few weeks without real solution, as we do not live together and would be unable to do so for almost another year. The possibility of adopting a pair of kittens and (temporarily) splitting them up so as to have a cat in each of our homes was discussed; I even came across a photo of two darling little kittens who might've fit that bill, except that they were adopted in a New York minute. My boyfriend met, in an impromptu manner, a pair of tuxedo kittens at an adoption van in his neighborhood one afternoon; he liked them, but was not magnetically drawn to them the way he'd been with Miss Meowsers a decade earlier. A calico cat I liked the looks of had similarly been spoken for, and there was a tabby tom whom I developed a crush on, but he was a senior citizen, and my boyfriend understandably did not want to go down that road. A day or two before his trip, I showed him the photo of Little Franklin, whose "rescue" name was Kew; the reception, from where I was sitting, fell on the cool side of neutral, so I decided not to push it.

Yet I could not stop thinking about this little tom with the ebony coat as shiny and fluffy as mink and the soulful copper eyes. And two days later, when his photo link appeared on a paid-service buying-and-selling e-newsletter I subscribe to, I knew that I had to move fast and try to arrange a meet-and-see before someone else beat me to it, even if doing so would cause strife. I emailed my boyfriend expecting a response filled with brake slamming, but though he did respond, it was not to my sense of urgency concerning "Kew." I sent an email to the adoption shelter, and though I heard back a few hours later, it turned out that the foster mother as well as her housemate were out of town, so the meet-and-see was arranged for the following week, after Labor Day, when my boyfriend could come with me to meet the cat who had imprinted himself on my heart. The meeting, overseen by the housemate, went very well; Little Franklin almost immediately sat on my hand, displayed impressive conversational ability (I naturally meowed right back -- it was a real conversation), and much to my relief and joy, allowed my boyfriend to scoop him up in his arms, where he went blissed-out boneless.

It took four more days to officially clear the red tape of the adoption application and reference checking that I had already submitted in order to expedite the process (nothing was binding till the adoption fee was paid), plus the home visit to confirm I did not live in a crack den or was a cat hoarder (the latter of which had been Little Franklin's home environment until all the cats in that place had been removed and sent to death row, at which point the rescue agency stepped in), until Little Franklin came home with me. Just four days culminating in the Harvest Moon, but they felt like four months, and through all my amped-up anticipation I felt storm clouds gathering in the Boyfriend Zone.

You see, as unbelievable as it may sound, I had chosen not to list him as one of my three references. One reference had to be "professional," I assume to screen out the jobless or freelanceless, but as for the other two, I chose two good friends to vouch for my character...not my boyfriend. And why? Well, I told myself I was sparing him the ordeal when he had so many other things to attend to, so many figurative fires to put out. The hard, Saturnian (and Plutonian) truth was that I did not trust him to give me a good reference, because I had gone against our agreement to take a break from cat cruising until we figured out just how such an arrangement would work. True, on the surface all seemed smooth after the meeting in which cat charmed boyfriend: we both liked the name Franklin so the naming decision seemed fair enough, and I assured my boyfriend that Little Franklin would spend plenty of time at his place (which is fortunately just a few neighborhoods away) once LF had gotten his sea legs and felt he had a solid, secure nest in my home, but the storm broke just a few days after the adoption.

My boyfriend had been staying at my place with our new son; I suspected that it was mainly because of Little Franklin that he was there, as for nearly three years the vast majority of our get-togethers had been conducted at my boyfriend's. Part of it had to do with the fact that until Miss Meowsers died, she lived there, though she sometimes visited me (sometimes to mouse-hunt, other times just for a change of scenery, which she seemed to enjoy); part of it was because his daughters stay with him every other weekend; part of it was that although I have a cozy, albeit small apartment, he has cable and I do not; and part of it was that we tended to fight right before one of his "off" weekends when he could've come over, but did not because we were on the outs. Anyway, at bedtime I kept pressing him to tell me what was wrong, and the cat, so to speak, came out of the bag. I am sorry to say that Little Franklin witnessed the escalation from soft voices to shouting on both sides, my boyfriend nearly storming out, and my flood of tears. We made up, as we have always managed to do sooner or later, but...Saturn was clearly not handing me parenthood on a silver platter. I had, after all, decided that I wanted what I wanted, that I was not going to let this cat slip through my fingers, and that despite my reassurances to my boyfriend, they were perceived as Band-Aids at best, "fronting" at worst.

I had truly wanted a cat, but I had also wanted to right the gross imbalance of the relationship's dynamic. (I have Jupiter in Libra, in case you were curious.) I did not want to cause him pain, but I felt compelled to take definite action instead of waiting for who knew how long on a situation that I deeply desired. For about two weeks midway through this past summer, my boyfriend and I were not just on the outs, but no longer a couple. I had been the one to pull the plug. There were a number of problems, but one of them was that I could no longer take the horrible sensation of being pulled along on certain important decisions I did not agree with, while not truly being heard or taken seriously. My boyfriend has many more moving parts than I do, which can be tricky to deal with in the best of circumstances, but these circumstances were far from the best. I had never stopped loving him, but I no longer loved our increasingly joyless situation, and at that time I felt that I had no choice but to take drastic measures to save myself from being further drawn into something that felt like a combination of a roller coaster and a vat of quicksand.

Although Pluto is the planet that most obviously deals with the isuse of trust or lack thereof, Saturn has to do with commitment, structure, limitations, a willful deprivation of pleasure (aka anhedonia), and an inherent lack of faith (for that, one must turn to Jupiter), and therefore has quite a bit to do with trust. And though my boyfriend and I have several lovely interaspects -- more than enough to explain both our attraction and longevity -- both of our Saturns form challenging aspects with the other's planets: my Saturn in Taurus squares his loose Venus-Mars conjunction in Aquarius and his Uranus in Leo. In other words, my Saturn "locks in" his natal opposition between Venus-Mars and Uranus, turning it into a fixed-sign T-square. This is not a pretty interaspect, and also overshadows, at least in my opinion, his Saturn in Capricorn opposing my Sun in Cancer (thankfully it's a separating opposition, yet it's still close enough to exert a strong influence).

My Saturn sits right on the cusp of my 9th House, so it is safe to say that whatever faith I naturally lack (thanks to a wide but approaching Moon-Saturn opposition) is exaggerated by Saturn's placement in the House that is most associated with faith. My real religion (the domain of Jupiter / 9th House / Sagittarius) is art, astrology, and a pragmatic form of mysticism. Shamanism has appealed to me since reading Carlos Casteneda in my early 20s -- not wanting to go to a "Don Juan" to be healed, but to become a Don Juan in order to heal others as well as myself. It has never been enough for me to merely be; in order to be in good standing with myself, I must do. And what I have been doing for nearly two months is trying to give my relationship another chance while not wanting to slip back into the very patterns (Saturn) that caused so much hopelessness (Saturn again) and resentment (Pluto). Oh, and I have also been trying (and failing) to find gainful employment that will free me from my stagnating career as a freelancer.

I do not want to be the dog returning to his own vomit. I want to create real, positive change instead of only reacting to outer circumstances, and just as important, not to give up whatever hope I have managed to hold on to for 44 years.

Little Franklin is a cat. He is also a son to my boyfriend and me, our friend who exhibits more humanity than many people we know, and a desperately needed ray of hope. This may sound like a tall order for one little fellow who has not yet celebrated his first birthday -- but if anyone can pull it off, Little Franklin can.

Update from Triskaidekaphile Central

This post goes out to all of you lovelies and uglies who have thus far managed to evade a silent killer in a hockey mask...but there are still twenty-three minutes left of Friday the 13th, so don't relax just yet!

When you meet the Buddha on the road, you are supposed to kill him. But what to do when you meet Mars in Libra? However you decide to react, you have to recognize him. Mars will be in Libra for what may feel like forever, because it turns retrograde on March 1, 2014, and will not exit Libra till July 26. In the past week alone I have seen (and heard) a few very apropros emissaries of this challenging placement:

* a male burlesque performer
* Woody Allen aping Blanche DuBois and Diane Keaton aping Marlon Brando playing Stanley Kowalksi in Sleeper
* the voice-over at the beginning of Alice's Restaurant (the film, not the song): sounds like a man at the army induction center, but turns out to be a woman; a few scenes later, there is a voice-over that sounds like a woman dean, but turns out to be a man
* a Congress that decided to throw the long-term unemployed under a bus and not pass the Farm Bill

And this all happened on a waxing Moon and the Jupiter-Saturn trine -- the ultimate balancing act between expansion and contraction, optimism and pessimism, luck and hard work, hope and despair. I shudder to envision how Mars in Libra will behave (or misbehave) when it plays into the Uranus-Pluto square next year. T-squares can bring incredible tension. Especially in cardinal signs, much tension will need to be released. The "missing leg," the sign where this energy can be funneled, is Cancer: home, family, security, emotions. All will undergo major upheaval in the next several months, and if you happen to be a Cancer (like yours truly and the United States) or have important planets in Cancer, get ready for your world to be rocked -- or to rock the world.

Last time Mars turned retrograde was in early 2012, in the sign of Virgo: work, health, service, pragmatism got bogged down for many of us. I am dearly hoping that Mars in Libra (both direct and retrograde) will be positive for unconventional relationships (think role reversal, if not literally cross dressing). Mars is not often thought of as a healer, as its energy is aggressive, even impulsive -- yet Mars is also the surgeon, capable of cutting away diseased flesh in order to save the rest of the organism. Mars in Libra is in its detriment, meaning that it is not comfortably placed in this sign -- yet at its best, I believe Mars in Libra can indicate important healing work in relationships.

It is already happening in my world. If a Sir Tin Pie Seas is reading this post: I'm crossing the bridge and thinking of you, I'm sailing right behind, and I'm still next to you on that bus gazing at the snow.

One of Those Up Close and Personal Posts that Might Help You

Greetings, lovelies and uglies and all mixed star-gazing bags:

Last night it occurred to me that Pluto was backing over another square to my natal Chiron in Aries. I was not consciously aware of the first square at the end of January, but it. Explains. So. Much. Even more than that helter-skelter aspect that has us all in its collective grip for another couple of years, the Uranus-Pluto square, about which I have pondered and written in this blog extensively.

I don't normally pay much attention to my 7th-house Chiron. It is the lone wolf, the odd duck of my chart: the only planet (more accurately, planetoid) in the fire element, and the only one not involved in my bowl-shaped configuration (which starts with Saturn in Taurus in the 9th house and ends with Neptune in Scorpio in the 3rd house). I run a tight ship, it seems -- but Chiron slipped through its tightly woven sails. Also, except for Neptune, it is my only retrograde point. Hence, ever since water-and-earth me first began studying my own chart over twenty years ago, I have never been able to make head or tail of my poor, retrograde-in-Aries, 7th-house Chiron.

Pluto squaring my Chiron has been one hell of a wake-up call, though I slept through the first alarm on January 31. If Chiron is about healing and self-actualization (interestingly, Chiron was discovered in 1977, the peak of the "human potential movement"), I apparently need to heal my relationships (Chiron in my 7th house) in a major way. Pluto's energy is deep and transformative, and it doesn't always tickle -- in fact it can be fucking painful. And one of the lessons of Pluto is that if you hold on too tightly, even more may be taken away from you.

Pluto has been transiting my 4th house for about seven years now so I should be used to its energy, but it was undeniably "kinder" when still in Sagittarius. It seems that Pluto in Capricorn in my 4th house has increased my fear that due to my unstable financial situation, I will lose my home (in fact, I've moved twice since Pluto entered Capricorn) and that I am generally running out of time (Capricorn) to "prove" myself (Capricorn again) to my family (4th house), to the world (10th house), and to myself (1st house). My time-management skills are being put to the test and it seems they are not at the correct end of the bell curve. My chronic insomnia and freelancer's schedule certainly haven't helped. Up till now, I have attributed this anxiety-producing state of mind to the classic "midlife crisis" aspect -- the Uranus opposition, which fell in my 1st and 7th houses -- but now I realize that Pluto squaring my Chiron plays an equally important role in this disturbing development.

Perhaps my Chiron's placement is why I have always been a "relationship person" despite also being a classic Pluto Rising loner. This is not to say that I have always been in a relationship, though since my late 20s, I have been in a relationship more often than not. It just means that I would make a great hermit as long as I didn't have to do it alone. (Two shows a night, people. Two shows a night.) Seriously, that does not mean I want a crowd; I often feel that I just don't have time for most people, even ones whom I mostly like. I keep thinking that I should be working on my children's book, which I am both writing and illustrating, and which may be my only ticket out of my current existence. I also have my "nothing" quota to fulfill, because doing nothing is doing something. Then, of course, I have to stumble across an article about how having friends is good for one's health and can even prolong one's life.

To which I find myself having a particularly Plutonian response: that I'm not all that sure I want to live a long life -- I'm more about quality than quantity, and although things could be much, much worse, I do not look forward to more of the same when my teeth fall out (see more on this very real worry a little ways down if you have the strength to read on). By most accounts, growing old (i.e., reaching 75, 80) sucks unless you have won both the genetic and financial lotteries, or you don't mind spending most of your waking hours sitting in a doctor's waiting room. Though I suppose all this can be somewhat offset if you're lucky enough to have grandkids (though my relatively recently deceased granny did not give two figs about my little sister and me, she was truly pathological). But I will never fall into that sick-and-poor-yet-still-lucky category; although there are kids in my life, they are not mine.

Sometimes, I do not even feel that my relationship is mine -- that it is "living on borrowed time," to quote from the late great John Lennon, and that it is running a course all its own. This might not be such a bad realization, but the moderate middle path between control-freakdom and devil-may-caredom seems to be eluding me these days. Hello, Pluto-squaring-my-Chiron. I got the memo. I am awake. What to do now?

Okay, so, teeth. Capricorn rules bones and teeth and just a few weeks ago, when I went to my dentist for my six-month cleaning, she informed me that based on my most recent set of X-rays from last December, I have appreciable bone loss and not only had to start flossing religiously, but must return for deep cleanings every three or four months for the rest of my life. I am not sure why my dentist didn't tell me about this bone loss six months ago -- perhaps she was distracted by the presence of my cute little cavity, my first in nearly twenty years and fourth one ever. Of course I was upset to hear this news, and when I thought about how I hadn't been to the dentist in over two years because I tend not to get cavities and much prefer spending money on anything other than a visit to the dentist, I got even more upset. My bone loss was my own damned fault. Sure, if my Freelancers Union insurance covered dental care, I would have gone like clockwork -- and if my old dentist hadn't moved to Florida, I might also not have let so much time elapse between visits -- but it was still my responsibility.

I could go on for another several paragraphs about Pluto-in-the-4th-house family issues, but I am worn out, and if you are still reading this post, I would bet that you are, too. Trying to end this post on a relatively positive note, I would like to think that time (Capricorn) eventually does heal (Chiron) all wounds (Pluto/Scorpio, Mars/Aries), even though time does not seem to wound all heels.

My Big Fat Midlife Crisis: Notes on Uranus Opposing My Ass

Being an astrologer does have its perks. At the same time, it can be like waiting for a delicately poised axe to fall and relieve me of my head.

In this era, the three aspects that launch one into midlife are the Pluto square, the Neptune square, and the Uranus opposition. (In other eras, Pluto is not a factor, due to its highly eccentric orbit.) Depending on exactly when you were born, these aspects can overlap, or not be anywhere near one another. However the timing plays out, it helps to think of these aspects as a process instead of isolated incidents.

In my case, I experienced the Pluto square first, at the relatively early ages of 35 and 36. With Pluto at my IC (aka Nadir, or the 4th House cusp) squaring my natal Pluto on the Ascendant, I feared that I would lose my home; instead, I slowly slid into credit card debt (Pluto). There was also a disastrous moneymaking scheme on my too-trusting father's part that eventually cost him his medical license and hefty lawyer's fees to stay out of jail. (Although the father is traditionally said to rule the 10th House, the family in general is to be found in the 4th, and this situation affected the entire family.) Sex became a battleground, but by the final square I had become far more emotionally honest about my needs and wants. What wound up alleviating the Pluto square was my natal Jupiter; on the heels of the square, Pluto formed a sextile to it. Though I was spending money I didn't really have, I was also very creatively productive (wrote my second book). On a shallow level, I looked surprisingly good; at least on the surface, the Pluto square agreed with me. Unlike just a few years before, I felt that my life was on an upswing; I was no longer mourning my lost youth, had a great apartment and some new friends, and felt I was growing younger, not older.

The Neptune square came considerably later, between the ages of 39 and 41. (This square, unlike the Pluto square, occurred five times instead of the standard three.) At age 39, with Neptune entering my 6th House, I began experiencing various minor but annoying health issues that compelled me to confront my physical vulnerabilities and jump off the Fun Train. Feeling extremely lost, a Nowhere (Wo)man in a Nowhere Land, my relationships expressed the dark side of my Neptune-ruled 7th House, with much masochistic behavior on my part in an attempt to hold on to those who were not worth touching with a ten-foot pole. I moved to a neighborhood that was more affordable but also very far away from almost everything and everyone I wanted to be close to. I further compounded that mistake by convincing myself (and not for the first time, unfortunately) that companionship trumped good sexual chemistry in a steady relationship, and that I could literally live with such a scenario. But it was a harmful pipe dream, and while I was smoking it, I gained weight; instead of applying my Plutonian willpower to dieting, I bought some trousers and skirts with elasticized waists and proceeded to pack on more pounds. I became increasingly morose and downright depressed at the same time that I was publishing erotica eBooks and poetry and attracting attention on the thriving Manhattan reading-performance circuit -- a typically Neptunian paradox, as validation for my writing meant very little to me when I felt so worthless. It was was midway through this nearly two-year period that I landed a part-time office job without even seeking it out -- and the job dissolved (Neptune transiting my 6th) just as mysteriously after the fifth and final square. This last square not so coincidentally occurred just a few weeks after getting together with my current boyfriend, a Pisces -- there was an air of fatedness and magic (Neptune) to the proceedings, as we'd had a date three years earlier, and on our do-over the NRE (new relationship energy) was off the charts. But the square forced me to see that far from being a pair of enchanted mythological creatures, we were fallible, just two sensitive souls with plenty of baggage that cannot be easily jettisoned. Similar to the Pluto square, I believe that my natal Jupiter acted as a sort of guardian angel and kept my creative juices flowing, as Neptune trined it shortly before making the square to my natal Neptune.

Today marked my second Uranus opposition. (The first one happened this past April, just two months before the transiting Uranus-Pluto square). Falling in my 1st and 7th Houses, from Libra to Aries, the question of how to balance my relationships with the people who are most important to me are on my front burner -- but so too is a sense of wanting to make some pretty big changes that are incompatible with current realities. I have no idea how this dilemma can be resolved. Maybe it can't. I don't really know what else to write about my Uranus opposition; combined with the notorious Uranus-Pluto square, it's just too much to fathom, and unlike the Pluto and Neptune squares, my Jupiter is not there to cushion any blows. Perhaps its true meaning won't become clear to me until after the final Uranus opposition occurs, which is just two months away. I have a very strong sense of champing at the bit and being very frustrated with all the limitations in my life, at the same time that I am aware of how thankful I should be. I feel that a window is open, that this may be my last chance to steer my life in the direction I want it to go, but at the same time, I am terrified to climb through this window because it would entail letting go of just about everything and everyone dear to my heart as well as everything and everyone I want to leave behind.

If you are going through the same midlife aspects, I would love to hear from you. It would also be interesting to hear from those of you who emerged on the other side of the Uranus opposition. If you do not wish to leave a public comment, please email me at plutorisingastrologer@gmail.com.

Your Karma Ran over My Dogma: Meditations on Saturn

Saturn entered Libra on October 29, 2009, then retrograded back into Virgo on April 7, 2010, before finally reentering Libra on July 21, 2010, where it has remained ever since. Today, however, at 4:33 p.m. ET, Saturn will pass its torch to the next sign in line: Scorpio. Interestingly, earlier today another planet went into Scorpio: Mercury. So the final aspect involving Saturn in the final astrological minutes (29'57") of Libra was a conjunction with Mercury -- perhaps a final bid on Saturn's part for us to think about the past three years.

Makes an astrologer think, anyway. Though at the time of the Mercury-Saturn conjunction, I must admit to being fast asleep.

Saturn is undoubtedly the "heavy" of our solar system. Traditional Western astrology (i.e., pre-1930, when Pluto was discovered, and lingering till the explosive Uranus-Pluto conjunction of the mid-1960s), placed far more emphasis on Saturn's negative manifestations: loss, limitation, loneliness, misery, depression, greed, harshness, fear. It seemed that wherever you had the ringed planet placed in your birth chart, it indicated the area of life where you were utterly screwed, and there was really nothing you could do about it other than passively accept it as your burden.

I believe that part of the reason for this baleful attitude toward Saturn had to do with a more rigid way of life in general, a time when it was far less likely that you could break out of the mold and veer away from the path on which you was born. In the pre-automobile age, there was far less literal as well as social mobility; true, in the United States were Little House on the Prairie-type pioneers, Wild West cowboys, and Gold Rush junkies who moved far from their families, as well as a great wave of immigration from Europe in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Yet the majority of Americans (and those Europeans who were not kicked out of their birth countries for the crime of being, say, Jewish) lived and died within a handful of miles of their place of birth. Vacations were pretty much unheard of, except of course for the rich, as was the concept of retirement: you worked either until you dropped dead or were fired for loss of mental or physical strength, and your safety net consisted of merciful relatives who allowed you to you live in their back room.

I realize very well that these days, the "American Dream" seems to have stalled, and is a cruel joke for many more people than in the past few generations. That several other countries' austerity measures and/and constant wars are also grinding down the hopes of millions, even billions of people. That during this topsy-turvy, crisis-laden era of the Uranus-Pluto square, giving stodgy ol' grumpy-boots Saturn the time of day might seem a ridiculous waste of time.

Which is exactly why we all need to get back to the basics and reconsider the power and weight of Saturn. If it wasn't so heavy, we might not have any sense of grounding at all. Saturn operates on the material plane. It is very telling indeed that Saturn rules Capricorn -- an earth sign. Saturn is our touchstone, and our backbone.

Even in touchy-feely contemporary astrology, Saturn certainly will never win any popularity contests, but just like Bartelby the Scrivener, it "would prefer not to." Saturn feels far more comfortable alone on the top of a mountain, or in a penthouse apartment, or in a corner office in a high-rise landmark-status building that it designed and built itself. (It is also no surprise that the charts of CEOs, bankers, architects, and construction workers are dominated by Saturn and/or Capricorn).

The terms karma and dharma are complex, comprising several tomes' worth of Eastern philosophy, and like the word love, are far too easily tossed around. In the context of astrology, however, they mesh perfectly with what Saturn symbolizes: your individualized trials and tribulations; your path; your duties; your earthly, character-building lessons to be learned in this lifetime, not turned away from out of denial or shame. To achieve what Buddha called the "diamond Soul," you must listen and learn from Saturn -- not coincidentally, all minerals, but especially the rarest, most precious ones like diamonds, are ruled by the ringed planet.

The Saturn Return at age 29-30 is the most important astrological event in anyone's lifetime, even trumping the Uranus opposition (aka "midlife crisis") at age 40-42. It is not a time for dreaming or escapism, but for looking unflinchingly into hard, cold facts, incorporating structure into your life, making peace with your father (or an equivalent "old man" authority figure), as you finally pass through the gates of true adulthood with a more defined sense of your life's mission. Saturn rules the concept of truth, as well as time; and like it or not, your time on earth is limited. Even if you believe in reincarnation, that you will return as the same (hopefully more evolved) soul in a different shell, you cannot take your shell or material booty with you.

Saturn's transit through a sign indicates the hard lessons we are all most likely to be faced with during a 2.5-year period, especially as it forms challenging aspects (conjunctions, squares, and oppositions) to other transiting planets, and to planets or other important points within our own birth charts.

Specifically, Saturn transiting Libra was about learning to structure and commit to important personal relationships in a mature, equitable way. Does that mean that all of us became more responsible in relationships, and better at cooperating with others? Of course not! Saturn cannot force you to learn any lessons at all -- but it does have the uncanny ability to take something pretty important away from you if you keep ignoring those lessons (i.e., your long-suffering spouse files for divorce). This does not, of course, mean that every time a person screws up and fails to rectify the mistake, Saturn immediately steps in to punish that person, ingeniously tailoring the punishment to the sign it is transiting. And of course shit also happens to those who do not "deserve" it. I live in the world, and I assume that you do, too. I am just speaking Saturnese right now.

Obviously, some will be in for a rockier road than others as Saturn leaves Libra (a position, by the way, that is traditionally considered "exalted") and enters Scorpio -- it depends on your own cosmic blueprint. Often what will happen is a mixture of flowing and challenging aspects, and when Saturn is involved, even trines and sextiles can have teeth. If you do not know your own chart, by all means contact me to schedule a private reading; if you know your chart well, take a close look to see what house Saturn will be in as it enters Scorpio; unless your chart features a house with 0 degrees of Scorpio on the cusp, it will be the same house as Saturn at 29 Libra, but the energy will feel very different as Saturn changes from cardinal air to fixed water.

So, Saturn is officially in Scorpio now. Please take a moment to welcome it (especially since Mercury just entered Scorpio, and Mars is still in Scorpio). If you were born with Saturn in Scorpio (i.e., are approaching your first, second, or even third Saturn Return), or have one or more planets or the Ascendant placed in Scorpio, you will undoubtedly be faced with some pretty serious lessons to learn (or not -- the choice is yours) over the next two and a half years. These lessons will specifically focus on the extreme, nitty-gritty aspects of life, including death (and sex, the occult, other people's money, and taxes). You may find yourself obsessing over one or more of these areas, and fearing any situation in which you do not have control. Scorpio types (not necessarily born with Sun in Scorpio, but with Scorpio planets or a strong Pluto) hate losing control as much as Capricorn (which is, you will remember, ruled by Saturn). But if you want to work with Saturn in Scorpio rather than against it, you must learn to let yourself ask for help sometimes. You must gradually accept the fact that you can be a vulnerable human being, and that needing a strong emotional connection with your sexual partner (or a strong sexual connection with your soul mate) does not make you needy.

The first aspect Saturn in Scorpio makes is an easy-peasy trine to the Moon in Cancer at 9:02 p.m. Saturday (Saturn's Day); the more collectively significant, longer-lasting trine to Neptune at 0 Pisces occurs next Wednesday evening, on the heels of the Sun-Jupiter trine. But more on the Saturn-Neptune trine next post -- my hands are about to fall off, and I also happen to be taking antibiotics.

A Very Special Episode of New Moon in Leo: Opportunity City!

Under so-called normal circumstances, Leo the Lion, king of the jungle, subscribes to a lie-by-the-fire laziness when it is not homing in on prey or partying hard. However, this New Moon in Leo, exact 11:54 a.m. EDT, forms a close, approaching sextile to Mars in Libra. The sextile is an aspect of opportunity; if you rouse yourself from your Casual Friday afternoon, something wonderful may very well meet you halfway. And that something is likely to be a someone, as Libra is all about relationships, and Leo is one of the more romantic signs of the zodiac. However, other manifestations may include art (either actively creating or actively appreciating), luxury, or exceptionally pleasing beauty.

Venus and Mars Don't Go Out on a Date When They Meet in Scorpio

Venus und Mars, Giovane, c. 1590


This weekend is marked by the Venus/Mars conjunction in sexy, intense, mysterious Scorpio (exact Sunday at 5:59 p.m. EDT). Combine this energy with the Moon in fiery, extroverted Leo, there could be some pretty wild parties going on--but whether you are single or attached, try to get some alone time with the one you feel love (Venus)and lust (Mars) for even if you are also tempted to be a bit of an exhibitionist (Leo) regarding your sexuality (Scorpio).

This is a great time to explore your sexuality with a partner who is open-minded. If you are tempted to role-play, make a porno video, go to a sex club, read erotica together by candlelight, or dig out your adult toy chest--or visit a kink-friendly shop for fur-lined handcuffs or patent-leather boots--go for it. Even if you don't have a partner with whom to experiment, you still have yourself, and you have every right to turn yourself on if no one at that party you go to (or crash) responds to the sexual magnetism you are radiating.

Please note, however, that Scorpio is a sign of extremes and can be self-destructive, so here I'm going to slap on that "Play It Safe" label in glowing neon letters. This warning is particularly true for those of you who are Cancers or have Cancer Rising, Aries or Aries Rising, and Taurus or Taurus Rising. (And how about if you happen to be a Scorpio or have Scorpio Rising? Well, you're probably too hot to trot to listen to me, but yeah, that goes for you, too.)

If sex is out of the question this weekend for whatever reason, since Scorpio is also connected to clairaudience, you may wish to dig out that ouji board and hold a seance. A film noir festival would also make good use of this mysterious, deep energy, as would a seafood feast (ideally a clambake on the beach, but Red Lobster will do) with dark chocolate for dessert.

Interestingly, Venus is now moving more slowly than Mars--and the love planet will turn retrograde on Friday 10/8, at 3:06 a.m. EDT. Venus does not often experience retrograde periods (unlike Mercury!) and I take this to mean that whatever goes down (or up, or sideways) this weekend, you will soon have second, or third, thoughts about it. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but do keep that in mind in case you either are tempted to pop a pretty serious proposition or are the "popee."

Sun/Saturn Conjunction: Taking Responsibility for Yourself

Today the Sun and Saturn meet (the exact conjunction is 8:42 p.m. EDT). Because we are also coming up on the Last Quarter Moon in Cancer (11:52 p.m. EDT), there will also be a Moon/Saturn square (11:40 p.m.). The Last Quarter aspect itself relates strongly to the sign Capricorn, which is ruled by Saturn. All this by way of saying that there's a lot of Saturn energy out there today. Saturn can be a melancholy "heavy," and especially combined with the Moon in Cancer, a "wet blanket." The weather today, at least at my coordinates, is literally reflecting that: plenty of rain with the possibility of flooding. (The Moon also opposes Pluto in Capricorn at 2:54 p.m., which is a good time to avoid being drawn into any emotional or manipulative exchanges.)

How best to handle your inner weather? Saturn is all about time--especially slowing it down. If your day is dragging, take it as a blessing in disguise and use that extra time to ponder your relationships (since the Sun/Saturn conjunction occurs in Libra, the most relating-centric sign in the zodiac), your ambition, your goals. It is a good day to concentrate on structure of any kind, both inner and outer, such as hierarchies, architecture or bones (especially spine), outlines or timelines. It is a good day to work hard, but not so hard as to force an idea whose time has not come.

Fellow earth sign Virgo is the sign of discrimination, details, organization, and service, but Capricorn is more likely to want to run the company and be on top than to toil or tinker, unrecognized, on the finer details. Yet if you wind up being the lone goat on the mountaintop, you can easily become disconnected from others; it is very important to make an effort to connect and foster a sense of interdependency. Even if you are the most rugged, anti-team-player individualist on earth, you can't do it all (whatever "all" means to you) by yourself. Again, the fact that Sun and Saturn are in Libra, the relating sign, should help.

And if all this difficult yet necessary effort is getting you down, listen to Capricorn Janis Joplin's "Try Just a Little Bit Harder" (preferably the live version).