By Amanda Painter
Most people I know have an ambivalent relationship to their Internet life and social media experience — neither wholly positive nor wholly negative. We’re all hurtling at fiber-optic speeds along a path whose implications for how and where we locate identity, self-esteem and emotional/spiritual nourishment are questionable (when they’re questioned at all).
This weekend’s first quarter Moon looks like it will be pushing your awareness of what that dynamic is really about, and what you need to do about it for your own emotional peace.
If you’re someone for whom a day without a selfie that gets 40 “likes” is a day when you feel unseen and unloved and question your life’s worth, pay close attention.
The Sun is in early Taurus, having ingressed Monday. The Moon is in Cancer right now, feeling tuned-in emotionally and especially keen on cozy domestic pursuits for the next couple days. It enters Leo Saturday at 9:13 am EDT.
By 7:55 pm Saturday night, the Leo Moon will make a right angle to the Sun (90 degrees). In the sky, you’ll see half of the Moon illuminated.
A first quarter Moon generally has the quality of feeling like a wave starting to build: it’s not cresting yet (that would be the Full Moon), but you can use its “push” energy to move projects into gear. It’s also about integrating what you learn as you turn that corner.
This particular first quarter Moon happens to be a T-square. Exactly across from the Moon and square to the Sun, asteroid Ceres is in early Aquarius. This is the planet of motherhood and agriculture/nourishment (among other things) in the sign of elite groups, crystallization of ideas, and technology.
The Sun in Taurus often relates to material possessions, but it also has a super-earthy, grounded, sensual/sexual side that is very tuned into the body’s experience. Leo represents children — along with pride, leadership and heart — and a Leo Moon wants to be visible in all its feelings.
Put these three pieces together (Sun, Moon, Ceres), and see if on Saturday you notice yourself wanting to stand out and apart from the “parental” nature of the digital collective. Think about it: it’s like we’re all running to “Mommy Internet” for approval with each Facebook status update we post about whatever we just experienced/thought/saw/ate/plan to do.
But the Leo Moon (with help from asteroid Juno nearby) says those unmet inner-child needs won’t really be satisfied there. The Internet, while it can help facilitate real contact, is not itself the kind of face-to-face, voice-to-voice, body-to-body contact we’ve become hard-wired to need over many thousands of years.
When we rely on the Internet for that, we just get more of the “detached parent” thing — represented beautifully by Ceres in Aquarius — that may have caused us self-esteem problems in the first place. (Or, alternately, it’s like a parent with rigid ideas about how you should fit in.)
Note that the open leg of this T-square is in Scorpio. If you feel a little destabilized by this astrology, watch out for toxic emotional tendencies: envy and resentment towards others’ seemingly vibrant lives (as selectively represented online); vindictiveness in response to those people; any of these emotions turned back on yourself.
Scorpio is a sign of potential deep transformation if you can get past the surface-level personality stuff — but transformation implies movement. Movement means not camping out in self-righteous vindictiveness or a self-pity party but, rather, moving through it with awareness to a deeper understanding about how to meet your needs constructively. It’s a choice.
For help, look to that Taurus Sun, which equals your adult, mature ego consciousness. It’s trying to tell you that your body consciousness will give you the most real and useful feedback — that is, your senses in contact with the actual outdoors and with people in the flesh; how your body feels inside and out. In comparison, how truly nourishing is the “food” of the collective robot (online life)?
A Leo Moon square a Taurus Sun is trying to get you to say, “I did it my way” (a la Sinatra). “My way” in this case probably means offline, in the tangible world. And hell — with a Taurus Sun, singing Sinatra to a friend (or your flower bed) might not be a bad idea.