Because you are reading this, I am making the assumption that you identify as a sensitive, if not *highly* sensitive, person. What I will be speaking to is intended for those who feel a deep humanitarian concern and are living in the Western paradigm. And what you are paying for is my perspective, which has been informed by my experiences, which are inherently limited. I am always open to dialogue and discussion, and I welcome your thoughts, feelings, and questions. 

 

Sometimes what I think is mine, is actually not all mine to hold—criticism, judgment from others. And sometimes what is mine to hold is so much—humanity, love, compassion, grief.

 

 

The emotional charge in the air is palpable, but if we’re being honest with ourselves, it’s been here for quite some time; years, nearly a decade… It has compounded with global and local events that have left our communities rocked and our individual lives in a state of questioning, doubt, and despair. For three years I have been writing these Moonsletters about the cycles of nature and how we can understand our place and purpose as integral parts of these cycles and systems. During this Scorpio season, there is an invitation to become more specific with where we direct our energy, specifically our emotional energy. Scorpio reminds us that death is a necessary part of transformation, that violence and rage are valid responses to oppression, and that old patterns will continue to resurface until we face and transcend them through emotional understanding. Scorpio is not afraid of the dark or the depths, but it can become obsessive with the energy of unearthing, digging away until what is left is raw and bare. Tomorrow’s New Moon in Scorpio offers us courage in the face of the shadow of our obsession with control and power—not just the results of prolonged cultural oppression, but also how we enact these dynamics in our personal relationships and within ourselves as the breeding ground for global mechanics. Now is not the time to curl up against the cold, but meet it open-faced and unafraid of what you do not yet know. 

 

You can only hold yourself to the standard of yourself. To try to compare your effort to another’s is futile and disempowering. I was speaking to a woman at the dog park the other day who was criticizing the younger generation for their sensitivity or limitations, citing that they “hadn’t gone through anything actually hard, like our ancestors in WWII” (I know you can hear my eyes rolling from there, I thought I was going to lose them in the back of my head). She went on to say that she had left home at 16, and pulled herself up by her own bootstraps to finish high school. To which I replied that it must have been an incredibly difficult experience for her and how amazing that she had the wits, the resolve, the confidence, and the health to accomplish that for herself. And how appropriate that her very personal experiences with her strict and unkind military father informed her perspective of self-responsibility, which then dictated her actions. So that someone with a different experience, may have developed a different perspective and taken different action. 

 

Harmony is not homogenization. Harmony is the integration of diversity. We are still collectively and cross-culturally locked in a vain competition of will and might. “Equality” has long been the global mantra, leading group after group, movement after movement to take an eye for an eye. Vengeance is a reaction to long held patterns of power dynamics and control. Belief systems arise out of a need to make sense of the world, extremism comes from a desire to control outcomes such that power can be attained and maintained. And these patterns are ancient, rooted in a more primitive emotional intelligence than what we actually have a capacity for now.

 

The idea that each of us are starting from the same place, that homogenization creates progress is inherently and cosmically discordant with the inner truth of the matter. We cannot make sweeping change without the integration of all that makes us diverse outside of current power structures, recognizing that true power is a shared experience in individuation where we complement one another. When we prioritize connection and interdependence, we will see how one land is not “owned” by one people; ownership itself being a funny concept to reinforce these ancient power dynamics. Let me be very effing clear: this is not some sentiment of love and light, “see how simple it is!” But instead, a challenge. THE challenge. In my realistic optimism, I don’t see humanity accomplishing this paradigm shift in my lifetime, but I do see great value in living and operating according to Cosmic Principles of Harmony for the sake of potentially moving the needle.

 

 

 

The New Moon in Scorpio may very well be the darkest night of the soul for this year. A new moon is the close of the last chapter and the beginning of the next. It is the threshold between one timeline and another. And because the sign of Scorpio correlates to transformation—death, sex, and the taboo—this new moon is notably rich in liminal energy. Peaking at 1:27am tomorrow in the darkest and earliest hours of the morning, this new moon conjunct Mars, the planet of action (named for the God of War), imparts a demonstrative energy of emotional courage. We are more likely to take action toward finding new and unusual solutions. The New Moon opposite Uranus and trine Neptune creates the need for emotional independence and transcendence through understanding what is mine to hold and what is “yours.” However, those already feeling “on the outside” could get stuck in a complex of separation, feeling emotionally at odds with others. With Mars sextile Venus, prioritize relating and directing emotional energy toward the collaborative end goal of transformation. 

 

Every beginning blooms around an ending, and the New Moon in Scorpio relates deeply to the sacrifices we make for true transformation. Nothing can be changed without loss. And we are invited this season to not only examine and identify what parts of ourselves or our culture must die, but to take the knife into our own hands and cut the cords. Do not fear the pain of loss, for it bestows a reverence for the wisdom which we gain. The human experience is vast and varied, and what does not “feel good” is as valuable and valid as that which does. Our addiction to comfort halts so much of our potential. And yet, there is an inherent security in availability to and engagement with the changing and shifting emotional landscape. Pain in the body is a signal that something is discordant. Pain in our collective has the same power to hobble us. And we have been hobbled in so many ways for so long. When we repattern tissue, we must first face the discomfort and engage with it in order to understand what habit or structure must be let go. Ultimately, even if it was an unhealthy pattern in the first place, there is a sacrifice of what has been consistent (comfortable) for what will bring forth profound change.

 

 

As Westerners, specifically US citizens, our attention is some of the most valuable in the world. And what we give our attention to most often inspires a collective emotional response. More so now than ever, folks are encountering a discomfort that is deeper than surface inconveniences, but is rocking many people to the cores of their identity. We saw a similar wave in 2020, where global events touched nearly every individual directly. This rocking of our sense of self seeps into our sense of reality; some folks respond with reversion to an infantile state of self-centeredness, and others respond with profound grief and/or fear.

 

To create a radically different world will require that we—eventually, but as soon as possible—become comfortable with the sense of madness; as in holding convictions that antagonize accepted standards and measurements. Madness is only madness to those who find comfort in homogeny. And as someone who spent time in an inpatient mental health facility, I use the word madness because it no longer threatens me. The judgment of “madness” is not mine to hold. The responsibility to inner truth, to my own self and my interdependence with others, and to growth and transformation are mine to hold. The feelings I have, as layered and complicated as they may be, are mine to hold.

 

It’s okay to weep in your car as you see parents walking their children to school in sparkly pink rain boots, after seeing piles of bodies in rubble on the news. It’s okay to celebrate your friend’s engagement, or a new baby’s birth. Everything happens everywhere all at once, and while we cannot hold it all at the same time, we can learn how to give dignity and attention to each in turn. Weep and grieve, and know that you have an exceptional place and privilege to be witness to both. Yes, it is a privilege. And the best thing you can do if you have a privilege that others do not is to use it to create more access for others; share it, in any way you can. If you have the privilege to talk with your community, to close your business in solidarity, to choose your vendors and providers, use your attention and choice to support your values and explore a new and perhaps slightly uncomfortable practice of attention. That being said, how you do that is entirely up to you and your capacity to see your interdependence with the community.

 

As an expression of my personal responsibility to interdependence, I want to include a couple of resources that I have found helpful and thoughtful. The first of which is this document of resources from the online journalism publication Prism. And the second is this incredibly rich and pointed essay by Ismatu Gwendolyn.

 

I encourage you to be informed, to take information from various sources, and to also take action in ways that challenge your comfort. I also encourage you to use whatever privilege you have to think critically about the power of your emotional energy.