(Lee Ann Petropolous – Mosaic Art)
I woke up from a dream this morning that reminded of my “nine year old self” and a time when our family moved from Cleveland to Ann Arbor Michigan. For me that experience was like moving from paradise into the twilight zone. From my perspective, Ann Arbor might as well have been North Korea or Zimbabwe – those two currently ranked the worst places on earth.
In Cleveland I had carved out a place for myself that felt comfortable. I knew my neighborhood, its inhabitants, and all the rules. I knew how to stay out of trouble and how to get into it. I knew who to hang out with when I was in the mood to take some risks. I knew where to go (the dark gully behind the turquoise house across the street) to ensure a “living on the edge” type of experience. Mostly I enjoyed my status as the “kid no one could beat” in a bike race down our dead-end street. I was athletic and owned a fast bike that kept getting faster. There was no one who could seriously challenge me. I believed in myself. I felt safe and confident within my small world.
My bike was unique having been run over in the driveway by my Dad at least three times that I can remember. It had no kickstand and was invisible laying behind his car where I often left it. I was in too much of a hurry to routinely put it away. Frustrated for sure by the third mishap, it became a tiresome routine for my dad to haul the wreckage into the basement, pound the bent fenders and handlebars back into shape, grease the chain and steering column, repaint, shine it up, and hand it back over to me with instructions to park it where it belonged “from now on.” I was “back in business” and my bike was, as usual, faster than before.
But after moving to that “foreign wasteland” that was Ann Arbor, I struggled to find a place for myself. No one there cared much about street bike racing. Our new street was a “through street.” Watching for cars was a limiting distraction. In a neighborhood dominated by University of Michigan professors and their families, academics were emphasized. Summer school was cool, reading during the day was encouraged, intelligent conversation at dinner was common, and calling first before you ran over to another’s house to play to was considered well-mannered. I had no place in that world and had to drastically expand my repertoire to find one. I was a sad version of my former self.
We stayed in Ann Arbor for only a little over a year. During that time I developed some interests and skills that have lasted a lifetime. But I have, since then, been insecure about my intelligence, and can trace that directly to the specific challenges I faced.
In general, what surfaces emotionally during the week leading up to any full Moon is significant. I interpret remembering the Ann Arbor experience as a sign that it’s time to change my belief about my intellectual inferiority. Once I mentioned to my brilliant friend Peg how I never felt very smart. She found that doubtful until she noticed my kitchen sink brand of hand soap labeled “Intelligence.” I think she was then convinced then that I did have some “issues.” Maybe if I washed my hands often enough…
This Full Moon, in the sign of Sagittarius, is challenging. It’s part of a T-square formation. The full Moon, like all full Moons, opposes the Sun. But unlike most full Moons, Neptune now seriously challenges it. There is the suggestion that dreams and the subconscious mind figure prominently into the specific kinds of information now being leaked – or carefully hidden.
There is also the suggestion that some pivotal belief we hold is essentially unsubstantial, based on shaky information prematurely pieced together, maybe in childhood, by an undeveloped or overwhelmed mind – and a severely limited perspective. Life is most powerfully influenced by whatever stays just outside the realm of awareness. Dreams and information that emerges from the past can change that.
A Sagittarian Moon, by nature, is deeply emotionally attached to beliefs. Letting go of old beliefs can be profoundly emotionally destabilizing under Sagittarian influence. Believing in things like intellectual inferiority keeps me, personally, from having to face a challenging research project with no guarantees of success. In fact “intellectual inferiority” has saved me from taking lots of risks and played an integral role in keeping me feeling safe despite the obvious downsides.
The Sun in Mercury (the rational mind) is likely now to reflect back information that renders the source of a pivotal current belief flimsy at best. As the mind weighs the evidence it can rationally distinguish between what makes sense and what doesn’t. Emotionally, though, not upsetting the apple cart, even when its full of rotten apples, feels safer. It’s the conflict that keeps us divided within.
Where to go from here?
The chart points to the theoretical point opposing the apex of the T-square. It’s placed at 10 degrees of Virgo. Virgo is methodical, earthy, realistic, self-disciplined, and exceedingly rational. Primarily interested in health, holism, and integration, purity is her passion. Hard work feels right. She is the counterbalance to Pisces demand to let go. She is the stabilizing force that knows how to heal the wound that’s left by whatever’s been released.
The Sabian Symbol for 10 degrees of Virgo is “Two Heads Looking Out and Beyond the Shadows” It speaks to cultivating a purer emotional matrix and a broader perspective based on truth. Without Virgo the self is perpetually divided within. Perceptions are distorted by personal bias and instinctive emotional needs. We rely on those to guide the decisions that create our future.
This full Moon may be a correction of some old perspective rooted in the past, now exposed as irrational, and in need of purification. Tolerating the pain of emotional destabilization is easier when we know why we’re putting ourselves through it. This full Moon can make that perfectly clear.