Wake up tomorrow present to possibility and remain that way for about 48 hours. Give it a try. Exclude nothing and nobody. Refrain from ruling anything out. Open windows and doors of every kind, however and whenever possible. Wednesday and Thursday will be days to not only allow in but also stir up what could be, because of what the Moon will imply.

As tonight becomes tomorrow, avail yourself of this time window of just over 48 hours by giving everything and everybody a chance. There is no certainty as to what will happen if you do, but there are already anticipations everywhere you look.

Look in your heart. Can you really say you feel the same as you did only days ago? Look at the world. Can you really say it looks the same as it did at this time last week? Is something not astir even amidst fatigue and fear?

Among all things in the sky and on the zodiac evocative of stirring, a Sagittarius Moon must certainly be counted among them. It so happens the Moon will leave Scorpio (where it is today) and enter Sagittarius for just over two days at 1:08 am EDT (05:08 UTC) tomorrow.

Hours after ingress, the Moon will briefly share the same degree of Sagittarius with the only sign-ruler that will still be retrograde by the end of Wednesday: Saturn. By itself, a conjunction of the Moon and Saturn is often less than promising. In tomorrow’s context, however, what would normally signify a downer could yield something entirely different if you will do your part by being present to some implicitly stirring possibilities.

That’s because the Moon in Sagittarius tomorrow will rejoin a flow around the fire signs for the third time in less than three weeks. Just look at what has happened in that short period.

The Moon first jumped into the flow when it entered fiery Aries almost immediately after eclipsing the Pisces Sun on March 20, and just hours before the Sun followed suit into Aries to begin a new season. Then the Moon mixed it up with fire in Leo again last week, when Eric clued you into an emerging “fire trine theater” following the solar eclipse of March 20. 

Tomorrow, the Moon follows its own lunar eclipse last weekend by joining the fiery flow once more with ingress to Sagittarius. Hence, the Moon’s conjunction with Saturn need not bring you down if you will only be present to its potential to stir you up.

For the Moon (among other things) represents what Robert Hand has called “your need to be human.” Nearly every time that need is confronted by the cold reality often signified by Saturn, you are presented with a choice.

Beginning tomorrow you will have that choice again. It’s a choice between asking ‘why?’ or ‘why not?’ Tomorrow morning, if you will only be present to the potential that ‘why not?’ offers, you will almost certainly stir possibilities out of what otherwise might be lost to the callous and/or careless complacency implied by ‘why?’.

Just asserting your need to be human tomorrow could in turn open a window of a little more than 48 hours when some very good things could come in out of what started stirring less than three weeks ago. The promise of a new season could be made more real. The distance traveled between eclipses could be measured, and what you have up to now only felt or seen hints of could become yours.

Let the next two days make a difference by making that difference yourself. What have you got to lose by simply being present to possibilities and allowing yourself to jump in like the Moon, to stir them up into reality?

Offered In Service

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

By Amanda Moreno

I’m really trying to get my digital addiction to relax a little. It’s not really working, but I managed a few hours today without checking my email, and when I did I was delighted to see several emails pertaining specifically to the eclipse on April 4. I’ve been feeling hot rushes of anger swirling through me in cycles this week, some with triggers and some without. Therefore the contextualization provided by other astrologers is very much appreciated.

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

I’m reading a lot about balance; about a tendency towards being resistant to the view of the other, with relationships at the focus. The self vs. other (Aries-Libra) polarity and mediating conflict with kindness in relationship seems to be the tip-of-the-tongue suggestion.

All of these are good insights. It also seems that so many of the email lists I subscribe to, be they astrologically focused or not, are providing totally generalized recommendations to really tune into the ‘love’ tones, to the heart, to try and greet every stimulus from a heart-centered, loving perspective.

I get it. It all seems like great advice. It also brings to mind what I lovingly refer to as “the priestess complex.” And let me tell you: those of us displaying that priestess complex, or those of us really working the relationship-karma-patterns angle, can get a little confused when we see things like “remember to be balanced and kind in relationship” — mainly because our go-to place is one of quite unconsciously surrendering to the needs of the other.

So what do I mean by “the priestess complex?” Well, it’s a term I probably shouldn’t just throw around casually, but I just did and so I’ll try to unpack it in a quaint, if not ridiculously generalized, little summary. I’m going to frame it in historical terms with a few basic assumptions: that my historical preview is limited in scope, and that even if you don’t believe in reincarnation and the effect of past lives on the current state of the soul, the story is a relevant tool for illuminating themes and concepts.

Let your mind spin backwards in time for a moment. Back way more than 10,000 years — which, by the way, is the average time span historians study, with anything before then being considered “pre-history” and therefore not worth studying. Imagine back to the time when the goddess reigned. Ok, wait — she didn’t really reign. That’s more of a patriarchal concept. Back when the life cycles, Moon cycles and natural cycles were revered.

The ‘goddess’ is depicted in bulbous statues and cave paintings. She has mega-curves. Humans begin to become conscious, to project onto nature and the sky; they develop practices and initiation rites. As consciousness becomes concretized within spiritual systems, ‘Priestesses’ initiate men into their sexuality (although sometimes, let’s face it, men were initiated through fairly brutal walk-abouts and rituals that involved blood and circumcision and sometimes resulted in death).

The sexual initiations, at least as far as we can gather through artifacts and modern interpretation, existed to initiate men into right relationship with sexual energy. But then, around the time of Babylon and its temples of ‘sacred prostitution’, the myth begins to change. Patriarchal themes begin to arise, the hero’s journey monopolizes the monomyth. The Babylonian Ishtar, turned Phoenician goddess Astarte, becomes Astaroth, a demon.

It all just kind of derails from there — although I’m a fan of thinking of the patriarchal cycle as a necessary part of our evolution. The priestesses and all of their lovely, chaotic, healing, devotional energy gets distorted to somewhat of a culmination in the Roman temples where the Vestal Virgins are the ‘keepers of the flame’ (see Eric’s article The Sacred Space of Self). Their chastity, their maintenance of that inner flame, and therefore the safety of civilization is valued above all, and yet…they are still used to ‘heal’ warriors coming home from war. And when they are caught in sexual acts they are buried alive. Good times.

There are also events like Beltane rituals, which still honor cycles of fertility, penetration, reception and sexual initiation. But by and large, it is changed. Control, possession and the cultivation of devotion overlaps with themes of chastity, purity and an utter distrust of raw, feminine power, which is unpredictable and chaotic. Even metaphorically speaking, these conflicting themes create distortions in the psyche.

Bringing it back to present — thank you for bearing with me — I have discussed the rising of the feminine here several times: the anger, the chaos, the ‘irrational’ cycles and patterns. It feels like for so many of us — men, women and gender-queer alike — we are remembering the force of so much power that has been repressed and distorted for so long. The snake is rising.

It can be terribly confusing, among other things. Then again, collective memories of being buried alive for helping to heal and for having sex as a means of healing can cause some confusion.

Bringing it back to the beginning of this article, to the ‘remember love’ thing, I had a moment earlier when I started laughing because, well, I have no problems remembering love or remembering to connect to the heart. I am so open and accepting and full of forgiveness and connection with the possibilities and ideals of people and of life, especially when it comes to romantic relationships, that I can deal with pretty much everything with devotional perseverance.

The problem is that that this devotional perseverance is completely undiscriminating. Or at least it has been in the past — I’m learning. For the ‘priestess,’ everything is about unconditional love and healing to the seekers. OK, maybe that is yet another over-generalization, but it is an important point. Especially, I would say, for the Pluto-in-Libra and Pluto-in-Scorpio generations. We are so geared towards relationships and merging that we lose sight of ourselves, our goals and our sense of discrimination very easily.

The fact is that the priestess complex carries all of the karma or patterns of betrayal and oppression and repression as well. The ability to trust the other, the instincts — and god, for that matter — is buried underneath centuries of distortion.

The fact that I embody so many shadowy Libra qualities of placation and surrender is quite the difficult confession for me. I’m a woman who has lived on her own and been quite independent for…well, my entire life. I’ve always shied away from Feminism because the practice of it speaks to me of victimization instead of the original ethos of equality for all, and I have never identified as a victim. But as I progress through life and relationship, I get more in touch with my own capacity to put the other ahead of myself, especially without receiving in equal measure, and it seems so unconscious that I am consistently surprised at its manifestations.

In that sense, embodying the Aries energy of the astrology right now seems so very appropriate, if not a little confusing and foreign. Remembering to keep the balance, to have patience, to take the point of view of the other in stride is, of course, prudent advice.

I’m also aware, however, that the anger is rising within me more fluidly lately and as far as I can tell I’m not alone in that. Figuring out what to do with it, how to channel it and how to avoid immediately projecting it onto the other is difficult, especially because of the discernment issue — when should it be discussed and worked through with the other, and when is the other just a catalyst for clearing my own stuff? How do we reconcile what feels like eons of repression and exploitation?

Listening to which parts of the anger are connected to my personal experience and what parts seem to be more of a collective channeling requires a brand of honesty that I strive towards but still fumble with. It’s worthy work, as the reclamation of the feminine in her true and robust form is so vital to constructively merging it with the masculine will in consort with divine will; or, more simply stated, in consort with a vision of a world where all parts are respected, loved and used for the highest good.

And so for me, at least at this point (writing three days before the event), this eclipse is very much about taking all of that love and light I ritualized into my life during the last eclipse (was it just two weeks ago?) and making sure it’s met with discernment, that my needs are being met in relationship, and that I am playing my part in evolving the priestess complex in constructive ways.

The priestesses are back, no matter their form and whether we take that metaphorically or literally. That devotional energy has to find its place among people who are willing to give and receive in heart-centered, equal exchange. It cannot be one-sided any longer. So here’s to using this eclipse energy to working together in ways that are discerning, discriminating and effectively loving.

By Sarah Taylor

On Sunday, March 1, it was pointed out to me by a self-described “math head” commenter that there is a .022% chance of getting three Major Arcana cards in a three-card reading; and I’m taking her word for it.

Today, the reading has defied the odds again in the form of another three Major Arcana cards. Not only that but, whereas last time it featured sequential neighbours The Star (XVII) and The Moon (XVIII), today it features the next card in the sequence, The Sun (XIX). Further, there are also another two sequential neighbours in The Wheel of Fortune (X) and Justice (XI).

The Wheel of Fortune, Justice, The Sun from The Röhrig Tarot deck, created by Carl-W. Röhrig. Click on the image for a larger version.

Last time, I wrote that “an all-majors reading can have a ‘behind-the-scenes’ quality to it — as if you can feel that there’s definitely something going down but, like a roll of thunder, its origin and direction may not be entirely clear. Although the thunder itself is both heard and felt in your body.”

Baby, that thunder is getting louder. That thunder is rolling outside your door. When it knocks, and you open (and if you don’t, be aware that it comes bearing a compassionate battering ram) be prepared for it to roll through your comfy little home, shaking the dust from the curtains, the spiders from the ceilings, and the shadows from the corners.

That “light of consciousness” that was “temporarily, deliberately, obscured,” which I wrote about in that article five weeks ago? It’s moving into town at high noon and it’s asking you to meet it on Main Street.

But you’re not going to be facing off against some guy in a black Stetson — not literally, anyway. You’re going to be meeting you. All that beauty that you’ve kept hidden in the darkness from yourself and others. You’ll both be standing there, under the Sun, in a divine meeting that has been engineered through the momentum of destiny (The Wheel of Fortune) and the rebalancing of karma (Justice).

There are no baddies. There are no goodies. There are no guns and there is no fight. There is, at its most simple, liberation: in that meeting, under The Sun, an aspect of the Self is revealed. It is a triumph of illumination.

Let’s go back and have a look at the journey you’ve been taking in some area of your life to get here.

The foundation of this shift is shift itself: The Wheel of Fortune. Corresponding to Jupiter, the planet of expansion and protection, The Wheel, too, speaks of expansion. It is the expansion that happens when there is a change in your outer (and, very probably, inner) world, which has the result of thrusting you into something new. And so your horizons widen. The thing to look out for here is — much like Jupiter — the idea of too much. Too much movement can be the result of a lack of centring. And when the wheel turns, it tends to serve us better — or, at the very least, to feel better — if we remain close to the centre.

From the position of The Wheel of Fortune, it’s likely that this shift has already taken place. You might still be a little dizzy from it, but you’re now into the territory of Justice. With those first rolls of thunder as the wheel rolled forward, you have been brought before the blindfolded figure of Justice herself. Her lightsabre is neither drawn nor active, but used to steady her arm so that she can balance the scales accurately.

This is not a moment where you are found wanting and asked to pay the price. A much misunderstood card, Justice does not pronounce you either guilty or innocent. Not at all.

Justice is a recalibration of karma based on the movement you have just experienced. What is discarded is associated with what you have left behind; what is added is what you are moving into; what remains is the bridge between the two. And, as this happens, so there is an unveiling of more light: the distant stars constellated behind the Wheel become light-edged waves behind the head of Justice. The torn-out notepaper — nearly a full back-drop in the Wheel — drops lower, resting under the arms of Justice.

And then, finally, that paper drops further, and further still, as the Sun breaks through in the third card.

The Sun interests me today because of the drawings on the two pieces of notepaper. On the first, we have the Sun from the Rider-Waite Smith version of the card, and on the second we have, very faintly, the child riding the horse from that same version. However, going back to the first piece of paper, we also have two figures, both of whom are reaching out to each other. I feel that this ties in with the previous card, Justice, which is associated with Libra, the sign of relatedness.

Just as the two scales are brought into balance in Justice, so the two child-like figures have a visual correspondence in The Sun. Blood rains down from the Sun’s rays. This is life-blood. The illuminating force of this celestial body revivifies and unites everything in its light. And so there is a reuniting of one person with another, one aspect of the Self with another, one aspect of the inner-child with another.

As adjustments are being made, can you feel that light starting to reverberate? It might get a little hot and sweaty out there at high noon, for sure, but it’s the one show-down you probably won’t want to miss. Those rays are reaching out to you. Maybe you can see what happens when you reach back.

Astrology/Elemental correspondences: The Wheel of Fortune (Jupiter), Justice (Libra), The Sun (Sun)

If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article explains how to use the spread.