The first half of April will still feel like a Piscean hangover from March.
Virgo me has been really loving the spate of benevolent planetary aspects involving Venus, Mercury, and Neptune in Pisces and the trine to Jupiter in Scorpio. (For an in-depth look at the month’s transits (applicable for all signs), read my post I published on Saturday.) Yesterday’s exact conjunction between Venus and Mercury in Pisces kicked off a frenzied spate of artistic creativity: I did three paintings from start to finish in less than 24 hours, a new record for me! Huzzah! Continue reading
As with the month of January, the month of March will be bookended by two full moons: the Virgo Full Moon on March 1 (the subject of a previous post), and the Libra Full Moon on March 31. Between the alpha and the omega of the month, we have the major themes of the transition from Pisces to Aries energy (Venus will be changing signs twice this month), the tandem transit journey of Venus and Mercury ending mid-month as Mercury begins to slow down in His shadow period before stationing Retrograde on March 22, Mars entering Capricorn mid-month, a series of challenging squares, the Pisces New Moon and the Libra Full Moon. Phew! Strap on your seat belts!
The Moon enters Virgo at 1 a.m. Thursday, March 1, and will be at 11°, 22 min. when She reaches Her apogee of fullness at 6:51 p.m. CST. The Master Numbers in the degree and minute-mark of this Virgo Moon placement signify a high-energy vibrational level for all of us, energy best applied towards the Virgo themes of Healing and Service. If you’re a Virgo Sun, Ascendant, or Moon person within a 5° orb of this 11° mark, you’re really going to feel the energies amplified.
Ride the Waves: The Astrology of February 2018
(c) Anna Applegate
Starting out with the Fixed Air vibes of Aquarius and moving into full immersion into the Mutable Neptunian ocean of Pisces, the month of February will have us riding energetic waves both smooth and choppy. By the end of the month, we will have a stellium of five planets (Sun, Mercury, Venus, Neptune, Chiron) in Pisces. Continue reading
Every 18 months or so, the planet Venus appears to move backwards from our Earthly perspective for a period of roughly 40 days. This transit, known as a Venus Retrograde, has a deep impact upon us because it’s one of our solar system’s three personal planets (along with Mercury and Mars), so the effects are more greatly felt in our day-to-day emotions and experiences, unlike the effects of the slower-moving outer planets’ Retrograde periods (e.g., Jupiter, Neptune, Saturn, Uranus, and Pluto). Astronomically and esoterically, Venus will transform during this period from being the Evening Star that’s been seen on the Western Horizon at sunset to the Morning Star in the East. In order to do that, She (I speak of the planet and the goddess with equal reverence, so I capitalize the pronoun) will undergo Her period of retreat, taking us all into a symbolic Underworld journey to reevaluate our relationships and finances; what we value, including our own sense of self-worth; and what we find beautiful/aesthetically pleasing. Continue reading
Stormy Seas: Navigating Next Week’s Total Solar Eclipse in Pisces with Challenging Planetary Aspects
Nations, like stars, are entitled to eclipse. All is well, provided the light returns and the eclipse does not become endless night. Dawn and resurrection are synonymous. The reappearance of the light is the same as the survival of the soul.–Victor Hugo
My mother told me that she had the chance to talk to several of our relatives in the former Yugoslavia, Germany, and the island of Malta this morning (Chicago time). They’d all seen/experienced the total solar eclipse–their reactions?
“Terrifying,” Mama reported.
I understood such a response. On Tuesday, May 10, 1993, as I was preparing to leave my apartment to take my end-of-sophomore-year undergraduate Women’s Studies final exam at North Park University in Chicago, I experienced the eerie energies of a total solar eclipse around two in the afternoon. I decided to head out into my backyard and view the phenomenon, clutching a pair of welding glasses I’d borrowed from my father. As soon as I crossed the threshold between the back porch stairs and the door leading to the walkway in the yard, a full-throttle panic attack gripped me. I clutched at the center of my chest; the feeling of oppression was sudden and horrific. My heart rate: ridiculously elevated. And whereas earlier in the day I’d heard a full chorus of neighborhood birds singing away, the landscape–fences, phone wires, tree tops–was completely devoid of stirring wildlife. No sound whatsoever. My panic intensified; I’d broken into a clammy sweat. Now I see, my 19-year-old self thought. I can totally see why our ancient ancestors marked this astronomical phenomenon with utter dread. This is an Extinguishing, a Great Devouring. It seemed to me as though the time-space vacuum was somehow being sucked into itself, and that the very walkway I began to tread was going to crumble apart, leaving me with no choice but to tumble headlong into the Void from which all the Worlds were spun. The earth would swallow me whole. Continue reading