Scorpio New Moon 'Scope
by Dana Gerhardt

At this time a year ago, astrologers were buzzing about The Harmonic Concordance. In Scorpio’s lunar eclipse chart, planets aligned in a portentous Star of David pattern. Such a thing hadn’t happened for thousands of years! What could it mean!? A major shift in planetary consciousness was the overwhelming prediction. A year later, you decide: Did this happen?

Predictions are disposable commodities, as this November’s election confirms. Whether you were following the pundits, the pollsters, or the astrologers, it’s now clear that some were right, but most were wrong. One prediction still hangs in the air—that "this was the most important election of our lifetime." Declaring one moment more important than others generates excitement. But after the moment passes, the air goes out of the balloon and we deflate. Moon cycles are different. They arrive with regularity. There is no inflation and no deflation. There is just a constant shifting rhythm, whispering that every cycle is special, every day holds new potentials, every breath a new start.

So what is important at this Scorpio New Moon? I suggest that we in the Northern Hemisphere follow the advice of trees, the infallible—and natural—pundits of this cycle. Why do trees turn crimson and gold in the fall? The short answer is, no one is entirely sure. Yet what scientists have discovered so far is instructive: An autumn leaf is busy with purposeful activity. The trees are dismantling the chlorophyll in their leaves, drawing its nutrients back into their centers, storing its energy for new growth in spring. Some believe fall’s brightly colored leaves are simply left-over pigments, a tree’s version of graying hair. Others believe the reds and yellows serve a protective purpose, as a natural sunscreen, or a warning to insect predators. Either way, the trees are looking ahead. And so, perhaps, should we. Let’s call back the energy we poured out in recent months. Let’s reorganize, acquire new patience, and shift our focus, to what matters at our core.

Select a tree to commune with at this New Moon. Let your ceremony be a "being with" the intelligence of this tree. As you stand as still as the tree, sense how busy it is. Connect and listen. As the cycle unfolds, maintain your relationship. When the bright leaves of your tree go brown and fall to the ground, observe how your own transformation is progressing. Where are you both at this Full Moon?

Scorpio’s cycle teaches emotional endurance. At the start, resentments may tangle your feet. Fears may shiver your skin. Unfulfilled desires may still ache in your heart. Six months ago, at the Taurus New Moon, your task was to sustain yourself by gathering new resources. Now you must eliminate, letting go of what drains you or has simply outlived its usefulness. Remind yourself of what matters and release what no longer serves. This may mean looking at—being with--something you’ve been afraid to see. From such small acts of presence and release, your life will transform. You will acquire new strength. Remember that, like the promise of the phoenix rising from the ashes, regeneration is always Scorpio’s gift.

What should you grow this cycle?

Astrology typically answers "what" questions by looking at houses. Look to the house of your birth chart where the New Moon falls: here’s your personal seed bed. This is the place you usually "do Scorpio." Every year at this time, you transform something. This is the area of life where you can be focused, resilient, tenacious, and incredibly perceptive. This is where you are your best detective. Each year, during the Scorpio New Moon cycle, you have a unique opportunity here… to release something old… to solve a mystery… or discover a secret that only you know. (If you’d like to explore this is greater depth, you may enjoy my seasonal/new moon workshop, Twelve Moons. Email me if you’d like more information!)

© 2004 Dana Gerhardt,
All rights reserved