Fun is in the Full Moon, but the Water Weathers it Wet


The moon's Tuesday-morning fullness in the sign of Leo unzips whatever sheath of modesty we've donned to conceal our kernels of honest-to-goodness, no-holds-barred, true and unapologetic selves. Through this opening in our clever cover, pure light shines through and speaks.

'Here I am,' it jubilantly goads us to declare, aligning its intention to the movement of our lips. 'Here is this unbridled, unobstructed, uncensored energy I call ME.'

[Enter ME, a bashful though slightly brazen essence of self. ME bows to the audience.]

'I'm not saying I always know what to do with it,' the Leo Full Moon light continues, referring to this ME in us, and operating through our mouths while doing so. 'I can't deny the unmanageable ego complexities it forces me to navigate in inviting its wild spirit to come and play, all those inherited should-and-should-nots that seem designed to quash its zealous quest to materialize through me. This ME, it flummoxes me. It overwhelms, and sometimes threatens to embarrass, me. But at least for this moment, in a rare public appearance, it has shown up simply to be ME, to be recognized as such, sans judgments or calls to action or hoops for jumping-through or lists of corrections to make. Ladies and gentlemen… ME!'

Then, just as the whoops and hollers from the assembled crowd erupt to herald the start of the festivities, Leo Full Moon looks over his shoulder into the shadows at stage left and spies the only figure sharing his side of the skies. Saturn, Mr. Work-Comes-Before-Play-and-by-the-way-Duty's-Calling-and-He-Wants-His-Carriage-Back(-before, that is,-it-turns-back-into-a-pumpkin). Saturn… hovering so close to the party-lovin' performances… and in Cancer no less, crying his little eyes out. If anyone were to listen to his emotionally sobering sentiments, they'd hear him moaning, in moderation:

'I'm not the glamour guy. I'm not the belle of the ball. In fact, maybe nobody wants to place his attentions anywhere near me. But I'm here anyway, faintly insinuating my presence into the scene. I have a simple message, if anyone cares to keep it freshly in consciousness, despite its weight. Here it goes…'

[Saturn in Cancer, modeling a patchwork-quilt cloak of many-colored emotions, takes the stage.]

'Please remember the suffering, even when celebrating. Please stop to listen and feel, in between the talking and moving. Even if you imagine that considering sorrow or hopelessness or disbelieving disgust at others' compassionless existences is not immediately about you, you are wrong. This ME over here is a necessary-for-this-lifetime illusion. Next time, it could be you shipwrecked, storm-battered, suspended, hanging on, with your personal fate helplessly out of your personal control. We are a single unit.'

Don't misunderstand Saturn's impassioned monologue. He is not a party-pooper, though he sits with his moods while others rejoice. He watches over and leaks his presence into the surrounding atmosphere. His arm extended to the Leo Full Moon, he proves it's possible to simultaneously celebrate life to the fullest and honor emotional reality, without neglecting and repressing. More than that, it's necessary for living genuinely.

Mercury and Venus stare down Saturn from across the wheel in Capricorn, promising polite and well-thought-out solutions to Saturn's achy heart. In collaboration with Chiron, this pair appreciates the hard work ahead and is ready to strategize a series of structured steps that takes into account even the most unpleasant aspects of today. Given sustained effort toward incremental success over time and the requisite patience…

'Step aside! Coming through!'

[Enter the ever-powerful duo of Mars and Pluto, conjoined in Sagittarius throughout the week. All action in the room grinds to a pin-drop-silent halt. All eyes turn. Mars-Pluto has escaped no one's notice.]

'No time to delay! No need to dismay! Out of our way, out of our way! We see what we want, and we're going to get it! Hear our yells! Blunt sentences, with exclamation points! (Calm conversation is so very cheap.) Listen to the moral facts! A, B & C are right! X, Y & Z are wrong! We believe what we believe! What we don't, we scorn—when we bother to care! But none of that matters! We're here to do what we're going to do! Step aside! Coming through!'

And they push their way through the crowd.

Naturally, attention remains plastered on Mars and Pluto, who are crazily kickin' up their heels—and kickin' the hell out of any obstacles blocking their bold presentation of blatant desire and will. Their presence becomes everything. You're either with 'em, or against 'em.

Behind the scenes, Saturn struggles psychically to be heard. Saturn is neither with nor against Mars-Pluto. He holds emotion in relation to the whole, the allies and the adversaries. Mars-Pluto's polarizing dogma merely frustrates, without rowdy rigmarole, the delivery of Saturn's message. And they barely communicate, talking different tongues toward different concerns. Astrologers call their incompatible perspectives an inconjunct (a 150-degree angle).

The Mars-Pluto vibe is infectious, inspiring all those around to clutch its coattails and charge full-speed-ahead toward the goals of their choosing. A Mars-Pluto conjunction in Sagittarius gives us the intensity, the strength, the single-mindedness and sense of superiority needed to procure almost anything. It's not gentle. When folks deploy its oomph toward conflicting purposes, expect a crescendo to the clash. Each is likely to see its dancing doppelganger through a blinding filter of self-righteousness.

The Leo Full Moon cannot help but welcome this duo, sharing the same element (fire) of action and reaction. The emerging ME wants to do as it so pleases; Mars and Pluto are happy to clear the path to make it happen. Another inconjunct, though, cannot help but subtly shove the focus back to the interconnectedness symbolized by water. The Full Moon is inconjunct to Uranus in Pisces, a reminder that expression of self always subtly fights against the utter unpredictability of the events that play out in our collective consciousness.

That is no call to abandon the self, obviously. But it should humble us to know that one good yank from far across the sea can pull us into a yarn not of our making.

In fact, the Full Moon-Uranus inconjunct possesses just the right dose of spiritual chance to spur the self to appreciate itself a little more—it's the only measly share of the inconceivably enormous pie over which we exercise any control, so we'd better make it good.