By Amanda Moreno

The first week of Venus retrograde is just about done. I have noticed that the body seems to be front and center for many people in my life. At a class I taught about the retrograde period the other night, I encouraged participants to really tune in to the wisdom of their bodies this week.

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

Venus spending an unusually long time in the first degree of Virgo seems like an opportunity to prepare what I’m framing — in typical dramatic Leo fashion — as an underworld type of journey. My understanding of this retrograde phase is that Venus as goddess of love and war will be showing all of her faces.

Just about the time Venus went retrograde, I pretty much went all out with dietary changes and a big-time focus on self-care. It wasn’t planned to coincide with the transit. I’ve been experiencing gastrointestinal problems off and on since a bad bout of food poisoning last summer, and I finally just hit my breaking point.

I’m no stranger to elimination diets and whatnot. I’m one of those people who thrives on the challenge and finds it fascinating to spend a few weeks really tuning in to how my body is working, giving it a break from alcohol, sugar, grains and other common allergens. This time around, however, everything but non-starchy veggies, some organic meats, hazelnuts and seeds are all that’s on the menu. And you know… a week in I have to say it’s been shockingly easy. Thank you, Virgo.

It’s got me to thinking quite a bit about the inner side of Venus (the Taurean side) and body love. I have been blessed with an overweight body probably since the age of six, round about the time my dad died. I’ve also been blessed with the ability to love my body, regardless of what it looks like. When it comes to being naked in front of lovers, for example, I figure — hey, they chose to be here, why hide? Swimsuit season…eh, who cares? People might judge, they might not, but I wanna feel as much water on bare skin as possible.

Body love in our culture is something that is praised on the one hand, and then shunned on the other. Wouldn’t want to be too confident or arrogant, after all. I’ve often felt extremely uncomfortable in situations with female friends who are picking their bodies apart and shaming themselves together. It’s as if that act has become some kind of social bonding ritual.

That’s not to say I don’t believe there is a time and place for discussing or confessing our insecurities about our bodies, which is just as important as confessing our love for our bodies when and if it arises. I’ve just never known quite what to do while amongst friends, usually all of whom are a good 50-100 pounds lighter than me, who are lamenting their bulges. It can be awkward, sad and somewhat confusing and frustrating.

Recently, as I work with my own body holding patterns, I’ve been reviewing and releasing several patterns that crept up on me somewhat unexpectedly. The first is the way I have internalized quite literally the guidance I was given from a young age to “suck it in,” referring of course to my belly.

I had no idea what the actual size of my belly was until last fall when I had my first cranio-sacral massage session. Several hours later, I was standing in my bedroom, and felt all of my abdominal muscles relax — and there it was: a bulging belly. I was horrified and concerned that there was something wrong with me. Thus began an emphasized period of being unable to hold it all in.

As I move through a phase in my life where the predominant theme seems to be one of ‘letting go’, I’m fascinated by just how literally my body has been trained to hold it all in, with so much pressure surrounding those abdominal organs. As I learn to release and relax those muscles, while still paying attention to what posture feels strong to me, I’m also releasing the emotions stored in the “I have to hold it all in” complex and in those organs.

The personal revelations coming from such a pronounced focus on my stomach, the energetic interplay between my sacral, solar plexus and heart chakras, my emotional body and the foods I eat have all kind of come together this week. As this Venus in Virgo energy really seems to be demonstrating to me the inner side of Venus, associated with Venus in Taurus and themes of self-worth, self-esteem, values and resources, I have been brought to a new level of body love. I am cherishing taking care of my body right now. Even as I carry on with lots of client work and grant writing, putting my physical health first has been a full-time job — and it feels like a worthwhile investment.

I am finding patience with myself that I never knew I had. I am listening to my instincts surrounding what I should be putting in my body, and I am loving every extra moment of self care I can find, from detox baths to slowing down my walking speed to feeling the way movement is flowing. For someone who has been learning how to self-parent at the emotional level for a while now, really being able to bring the body to the mix gives me a sense of grounded presence that I can’t say I’ve ever really experienced before. Full-fledged parenting.

Another theme that has arisen is that of truly committing to being here, in this body and on this Earth, and loving all of me enough to figure out how to make the physical vessel that is Amanda a place that is comfortable, strong, healthy and capable of doing whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing to follow my path. I was somewhat shocked when that theme came to the surface, as I’ve always considered myself someone who loves life. But there it was — a little part that is still quite resistant to being earthbound, who feels like being stuck in a body is the worst fate of all. There can be so much pain associated with being in the body.

But then the sense of really, truly realizing what I’m worth, which is a lot, while at the same time realizing that I am my greatest resource, that I am the only one who can save myself — with support from others, of course. Committing to myself, to being fully embodied in this life, feels pretty monumental, even at the same time as it feels obvious and understated.

Part of the reason it feels monumental is because I never fully realized that explicit commitment was a step I apparently needed to take. But I wrote that, and then this article by Margaret Atwood , titled “It’s Not Climate Change, It’s Everything Change,” graced my inbox via a dear Planet Waves colleague.

I then remembered: committing to being here and now, present and alert in a physical body, might actually be a very difficult thing to do. Balancing the fact that there is so much good in the world with the fact that it is an incredibly fucked-up place to be alive and alert is a daunting task. Choosing to keep our eyes open and pay attention to what is going on in the world is something that likely very much triggers the parts that are holding it all in, trying to keep it all together. For me it also triggers the part that is pretty convinced that if she lets go, the rug will get pulled out from under her once again — and avoidance of that level of physical and emotional pain can be fairly hard-core.

I return to this style of personal writing this week because it is what is flowing, but also because I hope some of you can relate. Within each of us lie so many paradoxes and complexities, steps forward and then steps back. All of that is quite beautiful, and I do so strongly believe that learning about the depths of our own beings, and loving ourselves through it unconditionally, is vital for us to be able to join hands and face all that is going on in our world.

Sometimes the focus needs to be at the personal level, and other times the focus moves out. Luckily, when one of us is focused in, we can be sure another is focused out so that nothing will be missed. That is somewhat along the lines of what Venus’ dual rulerships teach us, right? In Taurus, we learn how to hold ourselves and build a container of self-love through the act of realizing what we’re worth; in Libra we get to the extend from that foundation out to the other to see their side from a place of security.

As for Venus in Leo…well, I have no doubt our lovely community astrologers here will have much more to say about that, and I’ll keep you posted as well. What I will say for now is that as Venus ends her time as evening star, disappearing from the sky on Aug. 11, we can use the time to get in touch with our needs and wants and desires.

If you’re so inclined to pay attention to such things, what has your body been telling you? What needs and desires have been repressed? Let’s perhaps pave the way for some celebration of our bodies, shall we? Maybe that’s easier said than done for some of us, but if it feels right, why not?

By Amanda Painter

I’ve decided to offer you a grab bag of sorts for today’s sex-and-relationships offering. After all, the Sun is in Leo along with Mercury, Jupiter and retrograde Venus, emphasizing several of this sign’s traits, including playfulness, risk-taking, courage and the animal world.

If you think of Doggy Style when you’re feeling wild, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet… Image by College Humor

The traditional Strength card from tarot also comes to mind, featuring as it does a lion submitting to a maiden.

First up, bringing in the theme of animals and playfulness (and some risk, depending on the species — and depending whether you consider making babies to be a ‘risk’) is this series of GIFs by Mike Trapp at College Humor, imagining what it might look like if humans had sex like various animal species.

Since the first animated image, of praying mantis sex, is predictably…ahem…rough on the male, the link above takes you to one of the middle slides. Use the left and right arrows to the side of the image to see the others. Oh, and apologies for the hetero-normativity of the animations, done in the classic pink-and-blue line drawings of sex manuals. Technically earthworms are hermaphrodites that fertilize each other simultaneously, but the artist kept the pink and blue distinctions.

Next up, sticking with the ‘play’ and ‘risk’ themes and adding in some courage: men’s coach Mike Hrotoski’s blog post about creating a game wherein you say “Fuck [X]” about whatever you’re mad about, until you have no more fucks to give, and have opened up some space within where your now-purged anger used to be.

The risk? If you play with a partner, or in a public forum such as social media, you certainly might stir up some ‘stuff’. But if you remember that the goal is clearing, not taking on more ‘stuff’ (such as guilt), space might open in a relationship, too.

Hrotoski (whose blurb in his website’s banner may be a smidge off-putting to the very perceptive) certainly took a risk on the playful side of ‘edgy’ with the piece’s title: Fuck You Spiritual People For Using Gratitude As A Bypass To Your Anger.

Feeling feisty yet? Ready to play the game and roar out all your “Fucks!”?

If not, here’s item number three, where we get a reminder of the courage it takes to truly surrender to sexual healing and to let it unfold however it will, and of the strength present in those who hold the space for others to enter into the process. Recently Sarah Taylor posted this video clip to her Facebook page, from a documentary called The Sacred Prostitute.

In this particular clip, a sacred prostitute named Nut Tmu-Ankh Butterfly explains how, if you go to her, you are not buying a sexual experience. Rather, you are there to allow yourself to surrender to sexual healing — that no sexual healing can occur without surrender.

Expectations about what will or will not happen will not help you. It’s all about being the lion: open jaws, open heart, open vessel through which love and healing may unfold along with the orgasm’s roar, held in space and held in spirit.

The quality of transitional times may be difficult to discern while you are actually in them. For example, when one day transitions to the next at midnight it’s often dark and you are most likely asleep. Something similar might be said to apply for any transitions from one era of your life to another.

It’s hard to see you hooking up with a new epoch up until you ‘wake up’ to hindsight.

Astrology, however, can provide perspective on both the present and the future, as well as the past. That’s how it was, is and will be possible to see 2015 as a transitional year.

This is the year the long continuum of seven square aspects from Uranus in Aries to Pluto in Capricorn (which started in 2012) began to end. Even now you are probably seeing something of another side to where you were before 2012.

Additionally, Saturn is taking up most of 2015 just to settle into Sagittarius for the next couple years. Finally, as 2015 draws to a close, the lunar nodes (two perpetually opposing points on the zodiac where eclipses take place) will transition from the Aries-Libra axis to the Virgo-Pisces axis.

Venus (retrograde since last weekend) returns to Leo tomorrow shortly after 11:27 am EDT (15:27:21 UTC). When that happens, two other series of transitional hook-ups that are unique and thus definitive to 2015 (both of which started earlier this year) will resume. In this case, the hooking up will translate quite literally through a series of conjunctions.

Conjunction aspects are when two objects hook up in space (as well as in time) to share the same degree of the same sign on the zodiac, while concurrently sharing the same degree of longitude in the sky. The prototype through which all conjunctions are interpreted takes place monthly when the luminaries (Sun and Moon) briefly merge for what we call a New Moon.

Just as with any New Moon, every conjunction is the beginning of a new cycle. For the Sun and Moon, that cycle lasts about a month, and the transition but a day. The brevity, frequency and regularity of a luminary conjunction often leads us to take that particular liminal moment for granted, unless you live in an area where more pronounced ocean tides, brought about by the combined gravity of the conjoined Sun and Moon, require you to take due notice.

Of course, anytime the Sun and Moon conjoin in the vicinity of a lunar node to precipitate a solar eclipse, the nature of the New Moon is emphasized. That’s how events correlating with eclipses will often serve some sort of significant notice on you, whether you live near the ocean or not.

Conjunctions between planets have another way to get your attention: through repetition. When two celestial objects conjoin but once to begin a new cycle between them, corresponding events can often fly under your proverbial radar until 20/20 hindsight brings you to realize their significance.

However, if one or both of the two planets in question goes into retrograde after the first hook-up, the conjunction can be repeated twice or more. That repetition serves to extend the hooking up over time, essentially emphasizing the transition. Corresponding events often follow suit according to the nature of the planets involved.

Every Venus retrograde features a single conjunction from the Sun. That’s because it is Venus passing between Earth and the Sun (essentially lapping us from the inside lane) that precipitates the illusion Venus is going backwards in the first place.

The last time Venus retrograded back into Leo from early Virgo (in the Summer of 2007) also featured a single conjunction from Mercury. In retrospect therefore, the quality (Venus) of your thinking (Mercury) very well may have undergone a subtle transition in 2007 that you you were not conscious of (Sun) at the time.

This Venus retrograde of 2015, however, is doubling down to precipitate three conjunctions with both Mars and Jupiter. Corresponding events are therefore almost certain to get your attention, because they will be either repeated or otherwise drawn out over time. What’s more, the nature of transitions being made in 2015 are almost sure to be reflected by the nature of Mars and Jupiter in combination with Venus.

You don’t have to know anything about astrology to ascertain what Venus and Mars combine to mean. It’s about relationships of the one-to-one variety. It’s about hooking up to form a couple and themes related to the dynamic between complementary things.

Since the first conjunction of Venus and Mars in early Aries on Feb. 22, we have seen a theme of transition in one-to-one relationships manifest already. Just look to the same-sex marriage decision rendered by the U.S. Supreme court.

With two more Venus-Mars conjunctions yet to come in 2015, the idea for you is to realize the transitions are not over. Hence, no matter how compelling any coupling you have made so far this year, stay flexible. Realize that you are implicitly in a process that will take you from one era of your life to a new epoch of one-to-one relationships. Understand that the process will not even begin to complete until 2015 is almost over.

Venus had its first of three conjunctions with expansive Jupiter more recently — on July 1 in Leo. Given the amplifying nature of Jupiter and the values associated with Venus, the implication is that the importance of all hookups being made at this time will be emphasized.

Once again, however, the repetition of two more Venus-Jupiter conjunctions later this year represents more than just an accentuation of the theme. It also indicates a timeframe (also not concluding until late this year) within which you should allow a process of development to continue to its natural conclusion.

Venus will remain in Leo until Oct. 8. Given that Leo is ruled by the Sun (an emblem of consciousness), your own emphasis until then is to remain aware of the bigger picture and longer process — rather than being swept up in hooking up at the cost of all else.

Also, neither Mars nor Jupiter will receive their last conjunction from Venus until weeks after Venus returns to Virgo a second time. Understanding that means that it will be essential for you to practice patience along with awareness.

Hence, give yourself the space and time to see this year through before you act to force anything having to do with relationships. By doing so, you will be more likely to ‘wake up’ in 2016 with the realization that you not only more clearly discerned the quality of what looks to be one of the most important transitional times in your life, you also more actively contributed to define it.

Offered In Service       

Len is available for astrology readings. You can contact him at lenwallick [at] gmail [dot] com.

Dear Madame,

I’ve got a question for you about this Venus retrograde. I’m very attracted to the idea of reclaiming my inner artist; but to be honest, every time I pick up a pencil I hear my father telling me I need to get back to my trig or statistics homework. I’ve got fifty bucks worth of art supplies sitting here, and I can’t even open the first tube of watercolors.

The thing that really kills me about this problem is that my father is a Libra, and I constantly read about how artistic Libras are — which my father is NOT. So what’s the deal here? And how do I get Dad out of my head?
— Uncreative Crab

Dear Crabby,

First of all, you need to rename yourself. “Uncreative” is not a good start. The names we call ourselves have power, so it might be better for your inner artist to begin with a blank piece of paper (any kind, but cheaper is better) and try the following exercise.

Take your paper and fold it in thirds, vertically. Now unfold it and, beginning with the center third, firmly and boldly sign your name “Creative Crab” until you fill the column. And then move to another column. Doesn’t matter which. Fill them! Name yourself! Claim yourself!

Prediction: at some point the spark of rebellion will ignite your subconscious desire to make a radical choice — your name will slip across a column’s boundary.

See? Now, did that harm anyone? What boundaries did you actually violate? What rule did you break?

The fact is, my suggestion that you divide the page in thirds is arbitrary. I could have said to fold it in fifths or twelfths. Does it matter? Moreover, the folds in the paper aren’t real boundaries; they’re just suggestions, aren’t they? What impedes the progress of your pencil as it crosses that crease? Nothing but your internal agreement to declare it the limit of your letters.

And why did I suggest cheaper paper? Lower risk. You haven’t ‘ruined’ an expensive sheet from your 300 pound, cold press watercolor block, right?

Look, as an astrologer I could easily write about how Libras aren’t always creative or how the Daddy Issues complicate our internal risk vs. reward scripts. I could also write about how your respective cardinal Sun signs square one another, creating a potential conflict about who’s gonna be in charge. And I could write about how some Cancerian types are loathe to break ranks with family or how some Libras can’t abide disorder.

But I won’t. Not because I can’t, but because that would take the focus away from something at the heart of your immediate dilemma: living in the moment. At some point you’ve got to get out of your head and make that first physical mark on the page. And that’s a moment.

A lot is made of mindfulness these days, but it’s much more than a meme declaring yourself immune to future anxiety. For you right now ‘living in the moment’ sounds like ‘living in that moment from 1979’. Living in past anxiety is just as debilitating, as you rightly observe.

Living in the moment is equally about spontaneity and risk, both of which are distinctly 5th house acts. This is part of the reason we associate creativity and children with the 5th house.

Imagine the delight of the preschooler who has not yet been told what things ought to look like before they scribble out their earliest pictures of the family dog, a tree or Big Sis. They just do their thing. It’s pure impulse. Pure spontaneity. There’s not even the scintilla of thought that it could be ‘risky’.

Can you image the inner dialog if they did? “Rover!! Rover? What would Momma say if I drew Rover wrong? Hmmm… She looks grumpy. Maybe not today. She might hate my picture and that’d be embarrassing!”

It’s pure madness that we continue to assign this kind of thinking to ourselves while we sit in our own kitchens, in our own chairs, with our own tea mugs — and fifty dollars worth of unopened art supplies at our side! And yet, many of us do. We grown up people own so much, but not our creativity.

If you still can’t make the leap to a lump of Lapis Blue in your paint tray, it’s time to give it a go with low-stakes declarations first. Say your name, write it down. Write it a hundred times. See where it goes, and don’t judge. No one’s watching except you; no one’s rules but your own.

Really.

With pen in hand,

— Madame Z