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Pluto Tag

Waking the Dead—New Scorpio Moon and Solar Eclipse—October 25th.

October is the month of the dead. This is the time when the veil between the worlds is thinnest. This is the time of the ancient festival of Samhain when we remember those who have gone before us, when we confront inevitable endings and that great taboo. DEATH.

In October, leaves of gold turn to mulch. Shimmering spiderwebs sparkle in coppery hedgerows. In October, Death is monetised. Brightened, kept at bay with a parody of plastic costumes and grotesque face paint destined for land fill.

“Endings seem to lie in wait” wrote the mystic and poet, John O’Donohue who died as he slept in the January of 2008. Endings lie in wait in those ordinary instants, those unremarkable moments when quite suddenly, life as we knew it is over, our security, sameness, ruthlessly snatched away.

Spectral plumes of mist curl from rust-coloured forests and from the hilltops the plaintive roars of the rutting red deer promise new life and the ambush of death this month. As the Sun moves through Scorpio now, we enter the reflective depths and we think about endings. Many of us may be sitting with uncertainty, painfully paring away those things that no longer serve us. We may feel scooped out, dead inside, the vestiges of a long illness still lodged in our bones. Endings come with the loss of our identity when we retire; with the changes in our body as we age, our brave beauty etched in our faces, our strength shining through our eyes. Endings so often strip us of our innocence. They come in the brutal betrayal that spills diamonds and rust from the forgotten places in our heart. “You sit down to dinner and life as you know it, ends,” wrote Joan Didion.

On the eve of a new Scorpio Moon on October 25th, Sun and Moon hold a séance with Venus in regenerative Scorpio, accenting the cartography of our heart. This eclipse amplifies the finality of endings; fertilises a new cycle of growth with the dust of demolition. Tonight, we come back to what we deeply value. And what we must discard or choose to keep. A solar eclipse is a high-voltage new moon, and a new moon encapsulates the seed of a new beginning, a new shaping of our expectations, though we may not be able to see just what they are until the Moon is ripe and full. And as this new moon travels between the Earth and the Sun, darkening the Sun’s brilliance, something, someone may be eclipsed. This symbolism is made all the more poignant in a culture where the brilliance of externalised power and earthly matters command the spotlight in 24-hour news loops and on social media. The essence of eclipses lingers like an expensive perfume, for two weeks before and after the eclipse. They act as celestial highlighters, amplifying, intensifying energy and they can be game changers.

As the UK Tory party faces yet another crisis, transiting Uranus symbolises the unexpected changes in political fortunes—“I’m a fighter, not a quitter,” said Liz Truss before being routed within a day. Uranus was moving over Mars in her birth chart. As I write, Boris Johnson gains the necessary 100 MP nominations for the leadership, then pulls as transiting Venus conjoins his Moon. Uranus conjoins and Saturn squares Rushi Sunak’s Mercury/Sun conjunction in Taurus. Will he become prime minister or could Boris volte face again and return as PM to dismember the Tory party?

The darkly brooding presence of Pluto, Scorpio’s modern ruler, casts a long shadow over the month of October in world events, perhaps in our own lives with news that has reminded us of the impermanence of this life. Pluto stationed direct on October 8th and the heightened effect may have lingered for a week before and afterwards in our own lives, most certainly in world events. There is a quality of the absolute that lingers and settles over us all now and presses its hard edges into our daily lives. Writes Joan Didion, “It’s easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the ends.” Something bigger than us, something fated, is at work.

We may remember that for the ancient Greeks, Fate came in the form of three Moirai, those three sisters who determined the Fate of every living creature. It was Atropos who cut the thin thread of life. We meet Fate when the Nodes of the Moon transit the planets or angles of our birth chart. The South Node draws us back, into the undertow of the past; we hesitate at the threshold, we circle endlessly in our place of discomfort. The North Node is where we see the diamond of our destiny, although the threshold crossing is never easy. Something is calling us to our purpose, our ability as a race to love and heal and to nurture one another and all creatures great and small.

Jupiter slips back into diffuse Pisces on October 28th and will tread water at 29° till November 12th, drawing us collectively and personally into the shape-shifting realm of water that washes and dissolves the structures of life. Jupiter represents our search for meaning, faith and hope, yet also accompanies bloated optimism, grandiosity, and greed. Jupiter moved through this degree point in early May 2022 as Mariupol was besieged and the divisive issue of abortion escalated. Scorpio is a feminine sign, and paradoxically ruled by testosterone-driven Mars. With Scorpio there can be no compromises. Death, darkness, trans-formation, may be unfolding themes in our lives this month and in our collective future “Light thinks it travels faster than anything, but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it” writes Terry Pratchett, in Reaper Man.

 Mars, the war god is moving wearily through the heavens now. We may need more rest, more space to sit with painful emotions. Mars stations Retrograde on October 30th, and the battle out there may be an inner battle with the simmering heat of our rage; with our thwarted desires, with our view of the world that is predisposed to battle. “We have not yet arrived, but every point at which we stop requires a re-definition of our destination,” writes poet, Ben Okri, in Tales of Freedom.

As Nature contracts, exposing an uncompromising knot-work of bare branches and stubble fields; as the primordial pulse of the year stirs deep in our blood and bones, we might sense a slow, steady certainty moving through our body. This lunation carries the seed for repair, for release and renewal, if we trust the instruction of our hearts and know that death, like birth, is both an ending and a beginning. As we pause awhile, in this world of dying things, may those dead places in ourselves open to Love in new and deeper ways.

 Please get in touch if you would like an astrology reading:  ingrid@trueheartwork.com

 

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Tread Softly—New Moon in Virgo—August 27th

Wave upon wave of searing heat baked the land this summer. Now a jolt of fiery foliage, burgundy and gold. The rowan and holly are fruiting. The hawthorn bedecked with festive red berries. A false autumn, they say. Nature in shock.

Tonight, as a lightless new Virgo moon wraps herself tenderly in the black shawl of the night, we may be experiencing our own false autumn. This may be a time of our own shedding of leaves, emptying out, as we leave a job, a home, a relationship, accept that a source of income has withered.

This new Virgo moon comes at a time of transition in the seasons, accompanies us on our own tender transition as we withdraw from the rough edges of the world and rest a while.

War-god Mars confronts the moon; an aspect that is often associated with irritability, even anger, as tensions surface in our relationships. The sharp sword of Mars slices and wounds, often quite literally, with cuts and accidents, and in Mercury-ruled Gemini, with words that land painfully. Lunar symbolism encompasses women’s issues, and this lunation mirrors rampant misogyny, violence and cruelty that is directed against women, and on a more subtle level, the violence we inflict upon ourselves, our bodies. If we choose to embrace the symbolism of this New Moon, we could use the heated energy of Mars like a poultice, to draw deeply on our courage as we reach out and repair a rupture in a relationship, sending life-affirming Love energy to all living things.

Tonight, relational Venus opposes Saturn and squares erratic Uranus, two archetypes which signify the disorientating turbulence of social and political upheaval as energy costs soar, interest rates rise, and even those who are employed now queue at food banks. Uranus turned Retrograde on August 24th as Ukraine celebrated 30 years of Independence now a matter of life and death while Western nations recoil in discomfort from the unspeakable horrors of this war.

Virgo is a transitional sign.  As this New Moon brushes across the imprint of our own birth chart, we attune to the silent cycles of the natural world, we assimilate and digest the experiences we have absorbed, turn our focus inwards. We tread softly on the earth, and on each other’s dreams, as W.B, Yeats implores so poignantly in his poem, The Cloths of Heaven.

The Venus/Saturn opposition this month emphasises our human need for consistency and commitment and Mercury in Venus-ruled Libra underscores our deep desire to relate, to matter, to be seen and to be deeply listened to. Mercury turns Retrograde (September 9th – October 2nd) prompting us to trust our intuition, to shift our perspective, to turn things around and focus on what is right and good about ourselves and those around us.

There are six planets moving Retrograde now, drawing us back to shadow energy, the pain body where misunderstandings and the old eye-for-an-eye vibrational energy still linger, and the compelling need now to treat each other kindly, hone our innate capacity for empathic connection, cultivate and nurture enduring friendships, stitch together those bonds of connection that may be frayed or broken. Author Elizabeth Gilbert who has a moon in Virgo, describes our human longing for connection so beautifully, “to be fully seen by somebody, then, and be loved anyhow—this is a human offering that can border on miraculous.”

As the sun and moon awaken our Virgo planets or illuminate that part of our birth chart that is Virgo, we may feel insecure, unappreciated. Our industriousness and attention to detail may not get the recognition or financial reward we need to pay the bills.  Virgo’s shadowy traits emerge when we stumble into the seductive archetype of “The Harlot/Prostitute, when we sell ourselves short, when we don’t honour our commitmentsto ourselves, when we collapse into the fear of survival, and clutch onto security at any cost. When we serve others—and like the foolish Virgin—neglect to fill the oil or trim the wick of our own lantern.

At this time of transition, we may be seduced by the security of the old ways. We may try to continue as we did before. Yet there is another way. “Where do we begin? Begin with the heart,” wrote anchoress Julian of Norwich who was walled up in a small cell built onto the church for most of her life. In so many ways, this woman who took on the name of the church she was quite literally attached to, epitomises the humility and reclusiveness of the Virgo archetype.

Dr Mary Wellesley writes, “at the moment of an anchoress’ enclosure, a priest would recite the office of the dead, which was the set of prayers said at a person’s funeral. This symbolised that the recluse was dead to the world.”

The exclusive mens’ club, which was the medieval church, was a dangerous place for an intelligent woman. “Julian” called herself a “simple creature that cowde no letter,” yet she courageously wrote Revelations of Divine Love. It was seminal writing, a daring act of self-expression, which could have been construed as heresy. “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well,” Julian of Norwich is quoted as saying. Even as we feel the slow suck of apathy, a sense of numbness or hopelessness, the inconstant moon will shine resplendant once more; her energies fortified by the light of the Sun as she waxes and grows fat and full again.

All shall be well. So let’s rest awhile, then begin again, with tender, open hearts.

Please get in touch if you would like a private astrology consultation: ingrid@trueheartwork.com or to find out more about the next webinar.

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Incantation—New Moon in Scorpio—November 4th.

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves. We must die to one life before we can enter another—Anatole France.

Leaves of copper and gold blanket the black earth, and kelp-scented sea mists bejewel the fragile webs of spiders at this time when the veil between the worlds shimmers, gossamer thin.

This is a liminal time, halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. A time when we may notice an unsettling shift in the seasons. A time when melancholy wraps itself around the wan light of the dying year and ghoulish costumes create a safe diversion from our squeamishness about death. This is the month when the dead come callingDía de los Muertos, Day of the Dead. Hallowe’en, loud and gaudy, prickling with single-use plastic, once Allhallowtide, a time in the liturgical year that was dedicated to the departed. Soft-bred pumpkins grimace with menacing faces; bonfires consume summer’s fruitfulness, light-hearted tricks and sugary treats sweeten the older tradition of guising (disguising ourselves from sinister wandering spirits) while ruby-red toffee apples symbolise the potent symbol of the pentagram that lives in secret within every store-bought apple; incantations against the supernatural, rituals for protection against the descent into the dark of the year.

The truth is that the triple faced Cailleach drapes herself in her misty mantle at Samhain. She emerges from rocks of ancient granite and the smooth folds of glistening basalt to run her fingernails across the iron-grey belly of the sky, scraping loose bitter weather. Samhain is the Celtic celebration of summer’s end. A time when the Aos sí emerge from grassy fairy forts to traverse the “thin veil” into the world of humans. At Samhain, we seek to honour the dead who have walked before us. We engage in communal warding off those things that remind us of the fragility of life, the proximity of death.

For those of us who have witnessed the dying process of a cherished pet or a loved one, for those of us who have pared down to the bone after the dismemberment of a divorce, or the devastation of illness that has altered our lives forever know the pain of those irrevocable endings, those radical severances that bring us to our knees, rip off our layers of protection, leave us naked and defenseless. As we stand at the edge of winter, perhaps there is a deep sadness that still lies wetly over our hearts, a remnant of eternal timelines interlaced with others who have lived before us.

For so many of us it is the dying of the earth as we know it that haunts our dreams, intrudes on our walk through the woodlands or on the beach where the corpses of tiny turtles blacken in the sun. As we keep company with the collective grief, we may be brought to tears by an act of kindness, a soft word of sympathy from a strangerreminders that people are kind, caring. That we are not alone in our sadness. As the invisible threat of the pandemic, the existential crisis of climate crisis continues to strain our limbic system, tire our brains, keep us on high alert, psychologist Emma Kavanagh writes, “this phase we are in now, where everyone feels kind of on the edge, but no one can really articulate why—is what happens when you survive a disaster. When you live through what we have lived through, the net result means being broken by tiny catastrophes.”

As Nature withdraws, the fading Sun slips into the shade of Scorpio and couples in darkness with the Moon on November 4th, sombre Saturn squares the luminaries, a melancholic reminder of all that has been lost since those first reports of a strange new pathogen emerged from Wuhan. Minimalism, restraint, austerity, checks and balances, will be imperative as hollow men gather in Glasgow to talk, yet again, about the climate crisis. Missing in action will be collaboration and altruism, the solvents that ensure the survival of our species.

It was sixty years ago that Rachel Carson, ill with cancer and in great pain, wrote Silent Spring, a book that was denounced and vilified by the major chemical companies. She said then, “I think we’re challenged as mankind has never been challenged before to prove our maturity and our mastery, not of nature, but of ourselves”.

Re-reading her words, now, two full Saturn cycles later, as we continue to beat nature into submission like little dictators, it is hard to imagine that we will have the maturity to change our behaviours; to comprehend that we are only a small thread in the web of life.

Yet, innovative, radical Uranus makes an opposition to this New Moon and Venus moves into serious Capricorn as Mercury enters Scorpio on November 6th, adding a colourwash of practicality and depth to our human interactions this month.

Pluto and Mars are invoked when we talk about the Scorpion. Mars moves fearlessly into the blackness of Scorpio on October 30th followed by fleet-footed Mercury, and though we talk glibly of transformation, Pluto, still moving through Capricorn and square to Eris, coils around that over-used cliché. When we enter the realm of Scorpio, the mystery of life and death are at work. Snakes shed their skins and feathered phoenixes emerge from scorching flames in a world that is no longer pristine and pure, but is still breathtakingly beautiful even as microplastics and chemicals seep through the earth’s capillaries, and the wild flowers and butterflies we knew when we were young have gone.

Scorpio, in its true essence, asks us to dive deep into waters diffuse and dark; to dredge up what lies beneath: a collective fear that concretises into protocols and incantations that we hope will keep us safe; a collective scarcity that clutches and clings; the fragile vulnerability of the top predator with imposter syndrome who has forgotten the interconnection and interdependence of all living things.

Writes Rachel Carson, “the more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe, the less taste we shall have for destruction.”

As the light slips softly off the hillsides, we stand now in the potent darkness of this New Moon. New Moons are generative times. Seeding moments when we plant wishes in the darkness and wait patiently, expectantly, for them to grow. Rachel Carson invites us to consider this: “one way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, “What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?”

 

For astrology readings and more information about forthcoming virtual workshops please email me directly: ingrid@trueheartwork.com

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Moon Shadow—New Moon in Cancer—July 10th.

Somethings can only be seen in the shadows—Carlos Ruiz Zafon.

As the light-infused days of July stretch languidly towards the blue dome of the horizon, edges seem sharper, shadows bleached. We’re three weeks past the Solstice. As the Sun moves through Cancer the days here in the north are already growing imperceptibly shorter. This is a turning point in the solar/lunar cycle. We’ve entered the dark.

Cancer is a receptive water sign and where Cancer is in our birth chart we seek solace from life’s hard edges, we feel in our heart and body the searing heat of the wild fire and the wild winds that buffet the islands of the Caribbean. We are aware of our tender exposed places as nature signals her distress. Solastalgia, a word coined by Glenn Albrecht, carries a plaintive sigh of melancholy as we witness habitat corruption and feel the pain of loss.

The Sun serves the Moon when it moves through Cancer, heightening our intuition as we read the energy of emotions, sense what is there, hidden in the shadows.

Author and story-teller, Andrea Hoffman writes, “on a psychological level, the annual solar-lunar cycle makes us aware of the shadow.”

In the Grimm’s Fairy Tale, Little Brother and Little Sister, the disowned “evil step-mother’s” sticky residue coats the Midsummer wedding celebration with an ominous residue:

The king lifted the beautiful girl onto his horse and took her to his castle, where their wedding was held with great splendor. She was now the queen, and they lived happily together for a long time. The deer was cared for and cherished and ran about in the castle garden.

Andrea reminds us, “the brother is still a deer. The spell has been cast and is still at work here. In fairy tales and in life, we must look for clues, read between the lines, sharpen our peripheral vision in order to sense our personal and collective shadow.”

Mercury the celestial messenger is now in plain sight. Mercury slipped from the shadows on Wednesday, July 7th, and is now moving direct (since June 22nd). Yet the day after the New Moon, Mercury sinks into the soft comfort of Cancer, aiding tender conversations, gentle dialogue with our inner evil stepmother. New Moons carry the impetus for fresh starts, and Cancer’s domain is home and family. This New Moon opposes uncompromising Pluto, which signifies a wiping of the slate clean and beginning a-new, perhaps with realism and resilience as Venus opposes Saturn this week (July 7th) and then makes an uncomfortable square to Uranus which may bring a seismic shift to a relationship impasse, or bring us to the kind of breakthrough that John Welwood describes in his book, Journey of the Heart, that will “inevitably penetrate our usual shield of defences, exposing our most tender and sensitive spots, and leaving us feeling vulnerable—literally, able to be wounded.”

Cancer embodies the primal force of the Magna Mater, the Great Mother who at a whim, turns her head and exposes her dark face and eyes of burning coals.  She is the One who gives and takes life in casual and constant cycles of destruction and rebirth. She is the wicked witch, the evil stepmother, the mother-devourer demonised by patriarchal religion, yet who initiates those who are willing to pay attention and walk carefully among the shadows.  Cancer is a Cardinal sign that requires us to act, perhaps to protect any violation of our boundaries. Yet, as author Marion Woodman says, “there is no sense in talking about ‘being true to yourself’ until you are sure what voice you are being true to. It takes hard work to differentiate the voice of the unconscious”. Cancer is a water sign; its energy is fluid and receptive. Yet we may feel petrified, immobilised by the sharp scrape of the world. Like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty, we may have fallen asleep, cradled by the curse of the Dark Mother, drowsy with inertia. This is the spell of enchantment that traps us in a tangle of false beliefs. This is the long dark shadow that seeps from our unconscious and scatters clues of white breadcrumbs in our dreams as we follow the path that leads to something new. This New Moon, speak softly to the Dark Mother who feeds us poison apples. Pay attention to those judgements and beliefs that knock loudly at the door of our integrity.

All through this year, Saturn (the old order, rules and regulations) squares Uranus (idealism, freedom, revolution) and a tidal surge of a very different kind swirls across the skies as Jupiter, that planet associated with big dreams, grandiose visions and faith, encounters the ineffable Neptune in Pisces. Neptune spins backwards from June 25th-December 1st and Jupiter stalls our sense of expansion and growth from June 20th-October 18th amplifying perhaps the deep bruise of loss, a sinkhole of disappointment, or the dissolution of a high-flying dream. Both planets are moving Retrograde, drawing us into the undertow of delusion or ecstasy as we long to escape, to travel, to “get back to normal” while a virus shape-shifts and perplexed politicians throw the dice. Neptune and Jupiter will connect with other planets as they move in Retrograde through Pisces, offering us clues that emerge in plain sight now that Mercury has emerged from the shadow.

At the Sun’s zenith, may we remember that the light has already begun to wane and winter is coming. In the darkness of this New Moon, may we be prompted to look more closely, listen more carefully and trust that we can see in the dark.

For a personal astrology reading or for more information about the next webinar, please get in touch: ingrid@trueheartwork.com


Love Apples—Fairy Tales and Sky Stories…
A virtual banquet.

Saturday, September 25th, 14.30 BST.

As the metamorphic colours of Autumn accompany the seasonal shift of the Equinox, we arrive at  another threshold crossing in the heroine’s journey.

Join Swiss author and storyteller, Andrea Hofman and Ingrid Hoffman, a psychology-orientated astrologer based in Cornwall, as we explore the sumptuous symbolism of the Apple through fairy tale and astrology.

The wheel of the zodiac turns to Venus-ruled Libra on September 23rd. Libra is the quintessential sign of marriage and partnership.

Join us for an afternoon of juicy love lore as we meet ailing princesses and the red-lipped Snow White. We’ll discover more about Eris and the forgotten feminine, and marvel at the real beauty of the Golden Apple as the seasons change.

Our feast begins at 14.30 BST on Saturday, September 25th and, of course, if you can’t be with us on the day, we’ll send you a 90 minute recording.  Cost is £40 via PayPal. Pop me an email to book your place on the day: ingrid@trueheartwork.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Last Stand—Pluto/Jupiter Conjunction—November 2020

America is not nearly done. We’re only in the beginning. Who knows who we will be? Who knows what colour we will be? It is all something that, may our descendants—if they survive that long—will see—Alice Walker.

The whole world watched and waited as the divided states of America turned Red and Blue. Masks on or off signalled allegiance.  Now one last stand, one last grasp at power by the outgoing president. We are not nearly done.

We may still be wrapped in the folds of uncertainty about our future, trying to reconcile our ambivalence and incredulity as we plan our festive meals with family members who are angry about the outcome of the election; still divided around the care of a terminally ill parent; still trying to engage with friends who believe COVID-19 is just a hoax; still knowing that those we care for are just as hurt and confounded by how we think and behave.

The sky-script this month reflects the age-old issue of power and boundaries. We may work in an office where patriarchy infuses the woodwork, where we are treated like functionaries. In our relationships, we may feel that it is our duty to give our time, our energy, our love, even our body, in support of those who feel entitled to whatever they ask of us.

Our nations have been founded on elitism and supremacy. Our relationships, with our siblings, our parents, our partners, may be founded on the same principles.

We have only just begun. If we are to survive as a species on this troubled earth, we must not go back to the way we were.

Pluto (ruthless destruction, purging, elimination) and Jupiter (amplification) have been in conjunction all through 2020 (the aspect perfected on April 4th and will do so twice more on June 29th and November 12th). These conjunctions contain an explosive energy that so often coincides with turning points in our human story—as all that is corrupt and rotten in governments, institutions, and  in the often flimsy structures of our own lives is revealed. Pluto/Jupiter conjunctions can be combustible when they brush against our birth charts or the chart of our relationship, dredging up buried truths, destroying what is, and inviting us to revision a new future. They may ignite tinder dry resentments. Set ablaze those vows we made to ourselves and forgot to keep.

Jupiter inflates and expands, and Pluto terminates, destroys, ends, irrevocably.  As the contagion agitation builds, as Donald Trump makes his last stand, thousands of new cases of COVID-19 are reported. And although scientists and politicians promise a vaccine that will give us back our freedom, there will be the formidable logistics of delivery and safety to overcome. The pandemic will not be prettily wrapped up by Christmas.

Pluto abducts us and takes us into the Shadowlands of our psyche, and draws up all that has served its purpose in the world. Pluto will remain in in Capricorn until 2024. The fabled Hydra will continue to sprout more rapacious heads as Pluto inexorably purges our own birth charts, and the charts of our leaders and our nations. We must befriend the monster within ourselves. We must dare to challenge the creation stories that have driven our civilization to this point of crisis.

The birth charts of nations are conceived in acts of supremacy. Dominion over the Earth and over indigenous peoples. We are still enacting our origin stories, tales of heroism, individualism, and supremacy. “Once metabolised, the old stories are hard to shake from the mind of an individual or the hierarchy of a family or the guiding principles of a country,” writes Elizabeth Lesser, author of Cassandra Speaks, When Women Are the Storytellers, the Human Story Changes.

As the rhythm of our lives moves to the shape of the changing seasons, each new day may present new possibilities to engage in this collective birthing process more deeply, more consciously, even amidst the uncertainty. Mars still Retrograde, glowers, red and angry in the night sky. He stations direct on November 14th but will blaze a trail of fire through Aries until January 6th.

Mercury stationed direct on the day of the US Election and will return to Scorpio on November 11th, emerging from the shadow on November 19th. Venus makes a cardinal T-square to Mars and the Capricorn stellium between November 9th and 19th. A regenerative New Moon in Scorpio on November 15th consecrates our collective longing for healing and “normality” while the Full Moon on November 30th beckons us with the warm glow of possibility, fortified by the Sun’s presence in Sagittarius (November 22nd) as winter closes in and we make plans for the festive season.

“It takes a strong back and a soft front to face the world,” writes Roshi Joan Halifax. We will need courage and compassion, and firm boundaries as this year draws to a close and we face into another year of restrictions and economic uncertainty.

As we feel the ache of our humanness, the sadness of collective loss that has permeated 2020, one origin story that may be worth remembering is the story of Pandora who opened the jar and released evil spirits into the world. What is often not told is that Pandora shut the lid just in time to keep one spirit from flight Elpis—the spirit of Hope.

From the bottom of the jar of this difficult year, Elpis beckons us to imagine a better world. May we take the energy of the fire symbolism and hold the light of hope in our hearts. May we imagine a kinder world as we move through the ever changing experience of being human.

Elizabeth Lesser says, “women know something the world needs now. We know it in our bones. We’ve always known it. It’s time to dig deep, to excavate our voices, to elevate our emotional and relational intelligence and to transcend the limiting stories of the past. It is time for us to be the scribes and the teachers of a new way— to dream a little before we think as Toni Morrison said— and to stitch the world back together through care and inclusion.”

As this year draws to an end, we may be asking ourselves difficult questions; changing our lives in ways that we never thought would be possible, feeling more attuned to a story with a new beginning, a different ending. But first we must examine our stories. We must question who wrote them. And why.

Please email: Ingrid@trueheartwork.com for a personal astrology consultation.

 

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Handle with Care—Mars Retrograde—September 9th—November 13th

 

There is a fire raging, and we have two choices: we can turn our backs, or we can try to fight it—Jodi Picoult

We may feel as if we have stumbled through a portal into a forgotten realm as we communicate with our thumbs-ups, as we crinkle our eyes over our masks. Perhaps a strange tiredness has settled into the crevices of our ordinary lives. Yet, as we adjust and adapt, as we draw deeply on our faith and tend to the lamp of hope, we may sense the heat in the flame.

As COVID-19 continues to sweep around the globe, we all walk through a tunnel of uncertainty. This health crisis that has affected us all in some way, has revealed the brutality and injustice in our systems, the disintegration of checks and balances, popularist demagogues that deliver simplicity in sound bites and visuals. What we believed was solid and sure is threaded with words that summon danger as Barack Obama presciently warns, “that’s how a democracy withers, until it’s no democracy at all.”

We stand at an historical crossroad. The road well-travelled stretches towards profit-driven business models; the rapacious destruction of natural ecosystems; the numbing, dumbing down generated by the echo chambers of digital platforms; the banal flash fiction from our leaders.

During lock-down, many of us dreamed of a better, kinder world. As we gazed at the glut of stuff squeezed into our homes and felt this urge to pare down, to give away, to live more sustainably, our priorities became clearer, our hopes for when this is over carried us to a future where we lived more simply, more consciously; where we appreciated our loved ones. Yet now, we may feel a strange kind of emptiness, a crisis of meaning, a flatness as we witness the same posturing by our politicians, the same worship at the altar of profit, the same precarity of work and opportunity.The roads are gridlocked again. The silence, the sweet air has gone.

Now there is a fire raging. Mars, the mythical warrior  glowers red in the night sky as he stations Retrograde from September 9th (28°Aries) to November 13th (15°Aries) moving through the shadowlands from July 24th 2020 to January 2nd, 2021. A regressive Mars reminds us that we are battle weary. That we have been wearing our armour for far too long. That our bodies are aching, that we need more sleep.

It’s Mars that gets us out of bed in the morning; gives us our resolve to carry on. It’s Mars that takes a stand for justice, that fights the flames in California and ignites the flames of wrath in overcrowded refugee camps on Lesbos.

A Retrograde Mars turns white-hot energy inwards. Mars is our inner toddler that acts out when thwarted. We may sense rising levels of frustration, a need to push back at what is wrong in our lives, in our societies. The dark face of Mars is the radicalised berserker who unleashes fear and carnage, stokes up trouble on digital platforms. And as we scroll down our screens, skim through the news, Google snippets of “information”, we may inadvertently enter the fray of battle.

Mars, the fearsome night warrior is in his own sign of Aries. He bristles for a fight as he makes a tense square to the authoritarian men in suits—Jupiter, Pluto, and Saturn over the coming months. This volatile energy will be in effect until the end of December 2020.

When Mars moves Retrograde, he draws his power from within, rather than submitting to the will of authority. Mars is also our daring greatly, our heroic ability to rise up again when we’re downhearted, when we’re bruised. We may have to go back, re-do, reset something we have planned. We may be forced to retreat. To take some R&R. Mars changes his relationship with the Sun when he turns Retrograde, so this is an inner battle for many of us, a time to face our night terrors, confront our shadow, sheath our sword, make amends.

Mars retrograded into Aries in 1909, 1941, and 1988 as conflicts arose and were quelled, as luck and rhetoric enabled demagogues to cling to power within the context of turbulence, unemployment, uncertainty, and fear. Now as Machiavellian manoeuvring on the 200-year-old bedrock of US democracy opens fault-lines that fracture across an entangled world, deep divisions become weaponised, outrage spills out onto the streets. We can turn our backs, try to fight, we can take that first step into the unknown because that fire has left us uneasy to go on as we are.

“Every decision you make—every decision—is not a decision about what to do. It’s a decision about Who You Are. When you see this, when you understand it, everything changes. You begin to see life in a new way. All events, occurrences, and situations turn into opportunities to do what you came here to do,” writes Neale Donald Walsch.

In her new book, Spark Change: 108 Provocative Questions for Spiritual Evolution, author Jennie Lee guides us along a road less travelled. A road of courageous introspection where we may ask ourselves, “what am I supposed to learn from this?” She says, “that puts us into a place of humility because often we want to cast the blame outwardly towards another person or just the greater world situation, and we feel victimized by it.”

Use this Mars Retrograde cycle wisely to ask those provocative questions, to take refuge in slow time, to engage with life in a new way and to do what we came here to do. Writes Elif Shafak in her new book, “How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division, “after the pandemic, we won’t go back to the way things were before. And we shouldn’t.” It is up to each one of us not to return to the coping mechanisms, the distractions, the addictive behaviour that ravages our spirit. We stand at a new frontier. May we bring with us only those things we need to travel lightly on this earth.

 

 For astrology sessions, please get in touch: ingrid@trueheartwork.com

 

 

 

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Steady Gaze—Sun in Leo—July 23rd—August 22nd

What this pandemic has taught me is to free myself from things. It has never been so clear to me that I need very little to live. I don’t need to buy, I don’t need more clothes, I don’t need to go anywhere, or travel, now I see I have too much. I don’t need more than two dishes! 

Then I started to realize who the true friends are and the people I want to be with—Isabel Allende

 

As we begin our apprenticeship into this new way of living, sort out our priorities, obediently don our masks, dutifully comply with rules and restrictions that we hope will not rob us of our freedom and our human rights in the years yet to come, the taskmasters of the heavens—Pluto/Jupiter and Saturn—close ranks. Saturn is so often accompanied by setbacks that generate anxiety, pessimism and bolstered defenses. Pluto represents painful, drawn out, but irrevocable endings. Jupiter amplifies both.

This weighty alliance is the signature of a resurgence of restrictions fortified by fines. Non-touch technology, demarcated space, and physical distance become habitual. As seismic shifts in the systems of power crack open nations and reckless leaders scramble to reassemble the vestiges of normality, we may feel as though we are in the belly of the whale. The sky story of 2020 has a ponderous tone as the past and the future excoriate the foundations of nations, leaving so many of us homeless, jobless, grieving; orphaned by the intervening clamour of forces beyond our control.

“Destiny is a mysterious thing”, wrote novelist, Francisco Goldman. “Sometimes enfolding a miracle in a leaky basket of catastrophe.”

Jupiter in Retrograde (May 14th – September 13th) tempers our enthusiasm, tests our patience, as we navigate the troughs, prepare for second waves, look for a miracle concealed in this leaky basket of catastrophe. Jupiter sextile Neptune (27th July and 12th October) offers an opportunity for compassion and empathy for the suffering of so many. A reminder to keep the faith. Yet, we may not be able to avert our eyes as we pass people huddled in doorways or jettison the unappeasable sorrow that washes over our hearts while the myth of progress destroys our Earth home. We may not be able to block our ears to the harsh rebuke of the father/politicians who cannot see how dark our world has become.

Pluto, (April 25th – October 4th) and Saturn (May 11th – September 29th) continue to switch-back in Retrograde through austere Capricorn as the death rattle of an unforgiving old order reverberates across the world.

Pluto and Saturn are conveyors of reality checks, of historic trans-formation. They were in conjunction in 1914 as innocence was lost, and scarlet poppies grew on ravaged fields.

“A terrible beauty is born”, wrote William Butler Yeats in 1916 as Pluto and Saturn moved through the sign of Cancer. An estimated 50 to 100 million people died in the 1918-1920 flu epidemic, and the subsequent famines and flu pandemics long forgotten by indifferent governments or those lives are cocooned by high walls and ethical amnesia.

Pluto and Saturn formed an alliance as WWII ended and NATO was birthed amidst the ruins of war and collapse in world trade. In 1982 a global recession heralded Thatcher and Reagan’s “special relationship” and the birth of neoliberalism.

August to December will be volatile months. Mars’s overheated Retrograde in Aries (9th September – 13th November) coincides with the final sprint for the claimant to the title of President in America. Mars conjoined Pluto on March 23rd and will form an aggressive do-or-die square to Pluto on August 12–13th, October 7–9th and December 20th. Mars sextiles Saturn (June 27th) to add opportunity to the overblown square to Jupiter between August 4–5th, October 16th, and December 12th—a potent cocktail of frustration, fanaticism and potential for violence as we stand at the end of an era. Mercury goes Retrograde between October 13th and November 3rd and challenging oppositions to the current President’s Saturn/Venus suggest that the battle for leadership will be bloody. There will be no white flag of surrender.

Venus, haloed with stars, glitters on the silken swathe of apricot sunrise, her breath-taking beauty a reminder of those things we cherish, the people that matter. She stationed direct on June 24th, emerging from the darkness of the Underworld, and glides, gathering strength, in her post-Retrograde phase until July 24th. Venus has had many incarnations. As Innana, Ishtar, she was the revered Sumerian goddess of beauty, sexuality, prostitution—and war. In modern astrology, Venus presides over matters of the heart. She’s the money that makes the world go round. As new realities begin to develop, in the love we can’t buy and the money we wish we had more of, Venus in Gemini makes a final applying square to nebulous Neptune in Pisces on July 27th. Venus/Neptune combinations are notorious for distorting facts and twisting truths. They accompany grand romantic gestures, plumes of creativity, financial loss, duplicity, susceptibility to poisoning, intoxication and infection.

The Sun in Leo carries the standard for strength and wholehearted courage. Leo rules the heart. Gratitude and joy are homeopathy for the heart. The poet, Ted Hughes (Sun in Leo) writes, “the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough, that they didn’t invest enough heart, didn’t love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.”

Author Isabel Allende (Sun, Mercury, and Chiron in Leo) reminds us that Leo celebrates confidence, pride, generosity and enthusiasm. “We can’t live in fear. Fear stimulates a future that makes living in the present a dark experience. We need to relax and appreciate what we have and live in the present.”

As the Sun enters Leo today, may our qualities of strength and courage ripen. May we let fear and worry slip away as we celebrate those people and circumstances that support us.  May we look to the future with brave hearts and a gaze that is steady.

Please get in touch if you would like a personal astrology reading: Ingrid@trueheartwork.com

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Sacred Cow—Sun in Taurus—April 20th—May 20th

Today, the Sun moves into the fertile sign of Taurus. The air smells sweet and wildlife is beginning to return to silent cities.

Venus-ruled Taurus brings us back to the earth, to the potency of the virile bull and the gentle passive cow. During this time of enforced curfew and cocooning, we may have glimpsed some of the virtues of Taurus—patience, acceptance of those things we can no longer control, those things we can no longer change.

This week’s Taurus New Moon (April 23rd) is a harbinger of slow and painful progress and economic recession. She unites with unpredictable Uranus and makes a frustrating square to responsible Saturn in Aquarius, symbolising the tension that further restrictions and limitations will bring as a second wave of this crowned virus exposes the hubris of our leaders, honours the courage of front line workers, reshapes our lives.

Outside our windows, Venus glitters against marmalade sunset while Jupiter, Saturn and Mars rise over the horizon at dawn.

As the Sun moves through Taurus, the energy of four Retrograde planets will be emphasised. Pluto goes Retrograde on April 25th (24º Capricorn), Saturn on May 11th (1º Aquarius), Jupiter on May 14th (27º Capricorn.)  Venus is moving through Gemini now and will turn Retrograde on May 13th at 21º Gemini and go direct on June 24th at 5º Gemini, a notional period of 40 days and 40 nights. Transiting Venus apparently moves backwards in her dance across the skies once every nineteen months. These important Venus Retrograde periods distil the essence of what it is that we hold very dear to our hearts.

The ancients tracked the passage of Venus in a perfect pentagram across the skies, ascribing her disappearance in the skies to her descent into the Underworld.  Innana (Venus) is stripped of all her valued regalia and exquisite clothing and enters the Underworld vulnerable and exposed. In modern times, the Underworld is a symbol of our own unconscious where we may encounter a truth that reverberates viscerally. The trial of these 40 days and 40 nights are a cosmic reminder for us to dissolve, discard out-worn values and beliefs. To re-organise, re-examine, re-prioritise those things we value around a more truthful, authentic place that rests at the hearth of our heart.

As Venus turns Retrograde in Gemini we may be facing unemployment, or the unexpected gift of emerging from our chrysalis, starting over, lighter, more appreciative of the little things that bring texture and quality to our lives. We may have reached a relationship crossroad where we wonder, as author, Elizabeth Gilbert once did, “do we want our belly pressed against this person’s belly forever—or not?”  We may be relishing our solitude, if we’re home alone. We may be dating at a distance, enjoying a slower, more sensual rhythm, a new way of being. We may be falling back into love. Grateful, blessed, to be with the one we’re with.

An invisible virus is still among us, and those leaders who become complacent or who try to hurry back to the way things were, may encounter setbacks or a resurgence in the pandemic as Mars moves into nebulous Pisces on May 13th, moving impatiently into the heat of Aries on June 28th, to rendezvous with Chiron, emphasising our pain, our grief, our woundedness.

You cannot rip away caterpillarness. The whole trip occurs in an unfolding process of which we have no control,” Ram Dass once said.

In myth, Venus was also a goddess of war. The pre-Colombian Mayans believed that when kingdoms were unstable, and regimes might topple, her emergence signified an auspicious time to begin a war. Venus Retrograde in Gemini may bring to a climax a festering conflict in our relationship, or the return of a mangy old grievance. As our politicians use military-style language, and direct their impotence towards another country or each other, we may resolve to act in ways that don’t ignite conflict, or deplete our own immune systems.

As this pandemic becomes endemic, we speculate about what life might be like after COVID-19. The astrology speaks of years, not weeks or months, of metamorphosis, the kind of heat and stress that changes limestone into marble, that transforms golden calves into sacred cows.

The combustible 2020 Pluto/Jupiter/Saturn conjunction square Eris (goddess of discord, strife, and consequence) is the capstone for the end of an epoch. Pluto and Jupiter united on April 4th and will meet again on June 30th (both Retrograde) and finally on November 12th, just after the US presidential election.

Unprecedented change, disruption, and upheaval will be the hallmark of the waning square of the Saturn/Uranus cycle as it builds between 2020 and 2023. There will be three exact, uncomfortable Saturn/Uranus squares from February to December 2021, and a close encounter in October 2022, but this energy can be felt already, as the old order breaks down.

Saturn/Uranus alignments coincide with periods of civil unrest, economic collapse, revolution, radicalisation, and the collapse of systems that no longer serve their purpose. If we look back in history, the Saturn/Uranus square of 1928/1933 heralded the Wall Street Crash, the Great Depression, and the establishment of The Third Reich. It is likely that there will be record levels of unemployment that will again precede enormous social change. Like the interwoven spirals and coils of Celtic knot-work, the astrology of our times is threaded with the amalgam of the past.

This is a long-term encounter with destiny that will highlight the jagged edges in our relationships, crack open fault lines in our societies. As we steady ourselves for more sacrifices, as we anticipate more uncertainty, Teresa of Ávila who lived during a Saturn/Pluto conjunction in Capricorn at the time of the Spanish Inquisition, reminds us to have courage for whatever comes in life—everything lies in that.

 

I post astrology updates regularly on Facebook, and offer personal astrology consultations, so do please connect with me, I’d love to hear from you ingrid@trueheartwork.com

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The Invitation―New Moon in Aries―March 24th

At this pivotal moment in our human story, the Sun and the Moon meet in the sign of the Ram today at 9.28 am GMT.

Aries is associated with courage and valour, with autonomy and individuality. With “me” rather than “we”. In the context of the Saturn, Pluto and Jupiter heavyweights in Capricorn, this New Moon invites us to bravely go within. The sky story tells of something much bigger, much more profound than the current pandemic. This is our opportunity to stop in our tracks. To radically change how we live on this earth. To downsize, de-clutter, those things that weigh down our lives, clog our psyches.

Saturn is about confinement, constriction, limitation. Pluto ruthlessly destroys what no longer serves our collective and personal evolution. Over the coming months, the pressure will increase.

This is a time of endings. A time of grieving. A time when our unresolved issues will surface. Our collective and personal shadows will stretch longer as we push the already demoted Pluto “out there” onto our partner, onto the government,or name it “the Chinese virus.” As the struggle for survival intensifies, there will be acts of heroism and selflessness. As things become darker, we will make music and send jokes across the internet. As our personal freedom is curtailed our social connections will become more important, more meaningful.

This New Moon conjoins Chiron, the Wounded Healer, symbolising the grief and suffering so many are feeling now as economies collapse; as we face environmental destruction and climate crisis. Many of us are still in a state of shock and numbness, as we obey government guidelines for social distancing, as we brace ourselves for more limitation and hardship.

This Chiron/New Moon is a signature for painful “self-isolation” but also an opportunity to transmute our pain and suffering into the healing we need for our bodies, our souls and for all the other species who live amongst us. As we lean into our discomfort, as we stay with the uncertainty, with chaos, the shakiness and the hopelessness, we will learn not to panic, remember to breathe out, and gently and compassionately reach out to help someone else with loving kindness.

Pluto (irrevocable endings, break down, eventual revival and deep healing) and Jupiter (amplification of the catastrophe) are still in conjunction square Eris (goddess of discord and strife) and my interpretation of the astrological symbolism is that this will be more of a marathon than a short sprint, with the months of April and May requiring our altruism, our generosity and our self-sacrifice, for the good of the collective so that healing may occur.

Pluto and Jupiter are in conjunction in Capricorn on March 23rd and March 24th. Mars conjoins Pluto at the start of this new week as we adapt to the impact of the disruption to our routines, our livelihood. Saturn (boundaries, restrictions, limitations and isolation) moved into Aquarius on Sunday for the first time in 30 years. Saturn is associated with the fear many of us may feel seeping through the collective consciousness. Saturn is the Hermit card in the Tarot. Saturn will remain in progressive and revolutionary Aquarius for the next two and a half years as new grass roots movements emerge hopefully to tackle the environmental crisis and huge disparity between the rich and the poor. Saturn is about what needs to be done, what really matters, rather than on what we would like to do.

Mars joins Saturn in progressive and revolutionary Aquarius on March 31st, symbolising decisive law enforcement and intensified lock down of movement and social engagement that will be the “new normal” of our lives. Mars (encompasses war, sporting events, action) Saturn (restrictions, limitations as we carve out new structures for our lives.)

Many people are limiting their intake of negative or fearful news. Some are choosing to avoid energy-draining encounters and rather place their focus on those people or activities that will boost morale. Mars conjunct Saturn on March 31st may mark a deeper descent as we are sucked into the undertow of fear and worry, yet this conjunction also marks a turning point which may strengthen our resolve, fortify our willpower, as we prioritise, pare down, cut away those things that drain our energy and resources.

The invitation at this new lunar cycle is to rest our bodies, still our minds, take stock, be accountable for our actions for the good of the whole.

 

In Love,
Ingrid

The pandemic will have long lasting financial and psychological implications. Please drop me a private email if you would like to find out more about the whys and the hows in your own life and in the world, from an astrological perspective. If your income has been already affected, I will offer discounted sessions via Skype or Zoom.
ingrid@trueheartwork.com

Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does―William James

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I’m Still Standing—Sun in Capricorn—22 December—20 January 20th

Everything does fall.

It must be gravity—Dan Brown, Angels & Demons

At the darkest point of the year, the frail old Sun lies like a feeble old patriarch, recumbent on the Northern horizon.

In the skeletal silence of mid-winter, in the crowded craziness of mid-summer, we may long to withdraw from the excessive festivities, from the chicanery of swaggering politicians who play snakes and ladders with our lives, from the ache in our heart as bush fires blaze against a backdrop of sepia sky.

Every year, the Sun arrives in Capricorn at the time of the mid-winter or mid-summer solstice. The days reverse their gathering of light and dark.This is the still point of the year.

In the silence of the night, we prepare to enter new ground.

Saturn-ruled Capricorn, like all astrological signs is complex and nuanced. It’s associated with fathers, and patriarchs. Tyrants and scapegoats. With ageing and death. With the resilience it takes to accept a new reality. With the wry humour it takes to sing I’m Still Standing when we’re lying down.

In myth, the horned goat, Capricornus, is a cousin of Pan, a lewd, lusty, music-loving Satyr who incited “panic” and contagious pandemonium among those who travelled through the dark woods.

There may be ghosts of loss that haunt us as the bells of Christmas ring. Fears that unbalance us as we stumble into the darkness of despair. A fog of loneliness that drapes itself over our shoulders like a heavy coat.

In her new book, Tea and Cake with Demons: A Buddhist Guide to Feeling Worthy, personal development coach Adreanna Limbach writes about those gnarly aspects of ourselves that tend to come to the forefront when we’re overwhelmed, frazzled with exhaustion. Adreanna advises, “get close to the earth in case of turbulence” as we grapple with the challenges of being human, when everything around us seems to be whirling too fast, too loudly.

 

As the painful process of unpicking the structures of governments and financial institutions which began with the banking crisis back in 2008 continues to continue, (symbolised by Pluto’s ingress into Capricorn) we may be facing into the stark necessity of realignment of  those things that represent structure and stability in our own lives. Pluto remains in Capricorn until 2023, and those new babies who will be incarnating next year will arrive as Saturn and Jupiter amplify and concretise the changes that must be made on our home planet as the environmental emergency becomes even more compelling.

There’s a special New Moon on December 26th.  The last solar eclipse of 2019 pulses through a frayed circle of strange light.

We may be grappling with a difficult choice that leads us away from a path well-travelled. Eclipses are points of re calibration, turnstile moments that accompany a crisis;  turning points when we must befriend our fears, identify what feels authentic and true.

So often eclipses are harbingers of irreversible events that may ripple through our lives for years to come. If this eclipse aspects an axis or a planet in our own birth chart, tensions may already be rising and we may not yet be able to see clearly as the Moon obscures the sun’s light. We may need to sit quietly, attune to our breath. Seek our moment of  solitude amidst the tinsel and bright Christmas lights.

Author J.K Rowling describes a turnstile moment as she writes, “I was set free because my greatest fear had been realised. I still had a daughter who I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became a solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”

For those of us who have planets or angles at 4° Capricorn, what we thought was solid and sure may be tested, we may be forced to rearrange our  priorities over the coming year; re-focus our energy, pay attention to what we want to manifest in our life.

This eclipse is part of a Saros Cycle 132 that began on August 13th, 1208 during the time of the crusades. There is a sense of fatedness, accountability, responsibility about the concentration of Saturn-ruled planets, and also the potential of wounding as this New Moon and Mercury square Chiron activating our sense of rejection, abandonment, deprivation, silent suffering and loss.

Mercury’s ingress into the sign of the Mer-Goat on December 29th accents the ticking of the cosmic clock as we approach this year’s ending, and the mountainous Saturn/Pluto conjunction of January 12th, 2020.

Saturn/Pluto delivers a concentrated clout of energy, much like this month’s super-charged new moon. This conjunction contains the finality of endings entwined with the promise of new beginnings.

The last conjunction of Saturn and Pluto was in the air sign of Libra on November 8th, 1982. The US entered a recessionary cycle and England sent her young men and women to war in the Falklands.

The January 12th conjunction will carry a sense of accountability, a sense of fatefulness, a sense of destiny, a feeling of an immovable force that propels us onward, that will pervade our lives all through 2020.

 

For those of us with planets between 21 and 24 Aries, Cancer, Libra or Capricorn, themes of endings may be prominent. And so often endings are wrapped in fear that unravels, catches us off-guard. Our resilience will be tested, the durability of our bodies. We may have to leave something or someone behind. Capricorn rules the teeth, the bones, the skin and especially the knees.We may feel the need lower our gravitational centre. Kneel. Give thanks for those who have allowed us to open our hearts wide this year. For those rock bottoms that have become solid foundations for new beginnings. For Elton John, and I’m Still Standing.

Thank you all for your support this year, and for keeping in touch. I post regularly on Facebook, but if you would like me to send you more regular updates in a private email I will do so with pleasure.

Just connect with me via my website www.trueheartwork.com  or by email: ingrid@trueheartwork.com I would love to hear from you.

Solstice Blessings and Love,

Ingrid.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life―John O’Donohue

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