Here
is what happens during a lunar eclipse: the Earth
casts a shadow on the Moon, blocking it from reflecting
the Sun's light. How do you like that? Here's
the little Moon, furiously trying to find some
light to bounce around, only to find there's a
big old ball of dirt in her way.
Similarly,
at a lunar eclipse our ability to transmit
and receive light - to channel and midwife divine
inspiration - is trumped by the impulses of pure
worldliness. Sometimes, it's the worldliness
of physical disease or limitation that casts a
long shadow; other times, the pain of Earthly
need and loss.
Usually,
it's a pain you recognize. Eclipses have 18 year
cycles, so an eclipse falls in the same sign and
the same part of your chart every 18 years, and
in the opposite spot every nine years. What happens
on the outside, in your outer life, is a little
different each time - but the thing that's touched
inside of you is exactly the same. At the lunar
eclipse, an antidote to these earthly difficulties
seems to lie in the celebration of Earth's healing,
stabilizing powers.
Years
ago, after my mother died, I was desperate to
reclaim a sense of rootedness and security. So
three days after a lunar eclipse fell in my fourth
house, my husband and I closed escrow on the first
house we'd owned together. Lord knows I had no
solar light of inspiration to send out into the
world, and not much light was able to each my
barren, lunar surface; I was emotionally fragile
and scarred. All I could reach out for and rely
upon was the real, the tangible
the worldly.
My own little ball of dirt; a stake in the planet.
Nine years later, it's career success that represents
this security for me. I'm working harder than
ever to carve out a place in the world outside
my little fourth-house environment - but for exactly
the same reason that motivated me to buy a house:
security.
At
the solar eclipse, later this month, it's the
Sun, the splendid, extravagant ego, that will
be obscured by the wild, intuitive energy of the
Moon, creating a funhouse mirror effect of exaggerated
images and freakish sensations. But at this
lunar eclipse, your vision is clear - or at least,
you are guided by keen instinct; not the wild,
emotional intuition of the Moon, but rather the
quiet instincts of the Earth. They are the
same instincts that guide the hand of the craftsman
as it chooses just the right piece of wood for
his project; as it hovers for a moment over one
chisel, before selecting another that's just right
for the task.
At
this lunar eclipse, there is something in you
that longs to connect more deeply with the Earth,
to drink from her cool waters and lay your head
upon her sweet grass. Some long-ago pain has reared
up and sent you packing, returning home to mother
Earth for solace. As you gaze up at the half-bitten
Moon, know that the Earth is offering you something,
some smooth block of marble, a piece of wood,
a section of clay. Open your instinctive mind,
and ask yourself: What is it that wants to
be brought into being? And what is the right
tool with which to carve it out?
©
2006 April
Elliott Kent
All rights reserved