Virgo New Moon 'Scope
by Dana Gerhardt

The world is noisy. And when astrologers talk about New Moon charts we often make it even noisier. This New Moon chart has five placements in Virgo: Sun, Moon, Mercury, Jupiter, Mars!! Guess what: the Sun and Moon are conjunct the asteroid Ceres! And… squared by Pluto! Mercury is opposite Uranus! And that means, blah blah blah…

I don’t want to get into all that this New Moon. Instead I want you to walk one of Oregon’s back roads with me, here where blackberries grow like weeds and during Virgo’s season, ripen. It’s harvest time. Five geese squawk overhead, speeding somewhere, but let’s just amble. Past the occasional picker with her Tupperware bowl, seated quietly, so absorbed in her task she doesn’t notice us. Berry picking requires concentration. If you don’t move carefully, the thorns will harvest you, grabbing your clothes and dragging you into the bush. To do it right, you have to work the Virgo way: With discrimination. Unhurried. Absorbed yet industrious. Reverent. With a quiet mind. You’re looking for perfection: gifts from Nature that are perfectly ready to eat.

Your eyes will tell you a lot. Leave the red ones alone. Scan for those whose purple is so deep it’s virtually black (hence the name "blackberries"). If the berry looks like it’s about to burst, it’s a good candidate. If it has the sad look of a deflated tire, it’s too late. Study the finish. The ripe ones aren’t too shiny or too dull; their sheen is a vibrant cream. Out of the fifty berries you scan, you spot a likely candidate. Now here’s the real test. Tug on it. If it instantly releases into your hand, it will be delicious. If you have to tug a second or third time, if you yank it off the stem, when you pop it into your mouth, it will repay you with a tart explosion. "Ha!" It says, as your mouth endures a sour rush: "You can’t fool Mother Nature."

I wish I could tell you that I only pick the ones that are ready to eat. But I am aggressive by nature. And more often than I can count, I’ve yanked the ones my eyes have determined should be ready. I eat them and get the appropriate reward for my impatience. Therefore, my resolution this New Moon is to harvest more wisely in my life. I want to tug only on those things that are truly ripe. I want to let everything else take its sweet time. And just in case you’d like the New Moon chart thrown back into the discussion: that’s the lesson of Pluto’s square to Sun, Moon, and Ceres. It means, dear MoonCirclers, you should try to work your own fields and back roads this cycle in a Virgo way. Be diligent but yielding. Allow, don’t force. Be reverent. Seek perfection. And may your harvest be appropriately sweet.

Your Personal Cycle

At last month’s Leo New Moon you were challenged to be more creative and self-expressive… this cycle you’re inspired to scrutinize your world. At the year’s half-way point, in Virgo, you discern what is useful and valuable from what is not--like the Virgin, separating the wheat from the chaff. Virgo’s spirit is a collective one, but where you’re most moved to apply it will be personal, based on Virgo’s placement in your chart. Here’s where the Virgin’s spirit is released. In Virgo’s house, you’re reaching towards perfection—you’re called to refine something, reorganize something, dedicate yourself to meaningful work. This is not a bondage, but a joy! The sign on your sixth house cusp may suggest the style you prefer to use while roaming freely with the Virgin Goddess. (For more information about both the personal and collective cycles, check out my monthly workshop Twelve Moons.)

© 2004 Dana Gerhardt,
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