Scorpio New Moon Meditation for 2004:

Autumn's Alchemy
by Jean Hinson Lall

Here in Baltimore the autumn foliage season reaches its peak as the sun makes its annual passage through Scorpio. On cool, sunny afternoons the lush radiance of the leaves suffuses the air and blankets the earth with warmth. There’s a sense of chaotic abundance, as though trunks full of pirate treasure had cracked open and spilled their contents all around us: rubies and garnets, emeralds, topazes, jade, gold, and silks from the Orient.

It’s like a second harvest, but very different from the gathering-in at the end of summer when the Sun is in Virgo. We gather now not food but beautiful death. The leaves, having fulfilled their purpose in the annual life cycle of the tree, do not simply wither and fade. Instead they go out in a slow blaze of glory, each metamorphosing in place from its own shade of green to a radiant gold, scarlet, tangerine, carmine, tomato, mustard, rust, maize, mahogany, chestnut or magenta, clinging to the branch till maximum chromatic intensity is achieved, then breaking loose to join the dance. As we rake the jeweled debris into soft mounds, our eyes devour the colors and store them against the dark winter days to come. This late "produce" goes not to the pantry but to the compost heap, to rot and ripen as nourishment for future years’ vegetable gardens or flower beds.

Scorpio is said to be the sign of death, yet it isn’t the end of the Zodiac, but only the eighth of twelve signs. So perhaps its meaning has less to do with the termination of life than with the sort of death we see in the autumn foliage. The leaves die but the tree lives on. Its vital energy withdraws and the tree rests until the new growing season. In the human life cycle too there are predictable seasons of shedding and dormancy. We also suffer unpredictable wounds, bereavements and losses that strip us down to essentials, like trees going into the winter. The challenge in these times of loss is to let go beautifully and to make compost of what has died.

Why does nature bother with these colors? The hues of fruits and flowers serve to attract animals to food, but what sighted creature feeds on dying leaves? The worms and bacteria that convert them into fertile compost don’t need visual signals to carry out their duties. Perhaps color in nature is not merely utilitarian but also spiritual. Maybe the world needs to display her beauty as much as we need to see it. And we learn from her this season how to age, to lose, to sacrifice and to transform with grace.

Scorpio is also linked to power, blood sacrifice, surgery, warfare, and collective finances. Mars, Scorpio’s traditional ruler, has just entered the sign. This New Moon we have much to reflect upon as the battle for Falluja rages, military and civilian casualties mount, and the impact of the U.S. Presidential election is felt here and around the world. The stock market is up, the dollar down. The election was held with Sun in Scorpio and Mars in Libra, the Scales, producing an either-or, back-and-forth, polarized experience and leaving the country feeling torn asunder. Mars in Scorpio at least takes us beyond the split to a more focused, decisive and transformative stance. Losses have to be reckoned up and mourned, the dead must be buried and the widows and orphans comforted, and the true costs of the war (past, present and yet to come) must be faced and provided for.

Those of us who worked for political candidates have to digest our experiences and let go of the intense identifications we formed during the hard-fought campaign. Front-yard posters, election brochures and banners need to be raked up with the leaves and composted (figuratively speaking, at least: some are plastic-coated and would be hard for the worms to digest!). For those who feel that what has been lost is more than just an election, this is a time to trust in the ongoing vitality of the tree that is our nation.

However you voted, use this time to reflect on the values that underlie your politics, the roots and the trunk of the tree. Sketch some autumn leaves in your journal, or, if there are still bright leaves outdoors where you live, bring some inside, press them between sheets of waxed paper and prop them up in a sunny window. Write some small, concentrated, penetrating lines about your hopes, prayers and intentions for your country. (Think of each line as a single leaf.) Write down the names and sayings of a few people, living or dead, who embody your political ideals. Remember with love all whose lives have been sacrificed for the sake of political and spiritual freedom. Record your own intentions, what you will dedicate, how you will try to grow and contribute as a citizen in the coming years.

2004 Jean Hinson Lall