Jul

23

Bang Your Special Drum

Filed Under Celebr-astrology, Full Moon | 2 Comments

md_horiz
Earlier this year, the people-who-have-nothing-better-to-do raised a ruckus about 4-year-old Shiloh Jolie-Pitt dressing like a boy. Apparently she likes short hair, boys’ neckties, jackets and hats. Mon dieu! In a Vanity Fair article, mom Angelina Jolie admitted yes, her kid “dresses like a little dude,” and later elaborated for Reuters: “I think she (Shiloh) is fascinating, the choices she is making. And I would never be the kind of parent to force somebody to be something they are not. I think that is just bad parenting.” Jolie added that “Shiloh’s hysterically funny, one of the goofiest, most playful people you’ll ever meet.”

A peak at Shiloh’s chart might make all of us wish we had a mom as perceptive as Jolie. Shiloh has Sun, Moon and Mercury in Gemini, the sign of the clown. And her girlie planet Venus is in masculine Aries: why not dress like a little dude?!

I bring this up now because the Aquarius Full Moon is a perfect time to take another look at your own chart and celebrate its special oddities. Be Angelina Jolie to your own little Shiloh and affirm what’s special about you. Especially since Mars will soon be marching into the territory of the Cardinal Cross–from July 30 through August 3–and the Moon will activate the Cross on August 6/7. These are good days to love yourself. No matter what the tabloids are saying about you.

Share |

Mar

27

Does the Full Moon make you crazy?

Filed Under Full Moon | 4 Comments

dreamstime_10567743Mist covers the landscape. A Full Moon peers through the clouds. In the distance, a wolf howls. Alone in his room, a man grabs his face in horror. Hair sprouts from his hands and face and quickly covers his whole body. His screams convert to throaty growls. Racing into the night on all fours, he’s going to kill something. In the horror flicks I grew up on, this was a familiar scene. In real life, I’ve often heard that Full Moons drive people crazy. On Full Moon nights around the globe, it’s anecdotally reported that murders, arson, and suicides increase; also, traffic accidents, domestic violence, fights at hockey games and in prisons; calls to poison centers and admissions to psychiatric hospitals soar. Yet most scientific research has shown no link between the Moon and increased violence.

The few studies that have proven a connection are widely quoted. They are also criticized as lacking proper research controls (one covered a period where a high percentage of Full Moons fell on weekends, days that also show a high correlation with strange behaviors). Bottom line, the Moon statistics can’t be replicated. What’s more, they often contradict each other, with some proving the Quarter Moons are more traumatic. Nonetheless, in a study among students at universities in Florida, Canada, and Hawaii, when queried about the Moon, half agreed that people are strange when the Moon is full.

After years of watching Full Moons, I vote with the scientists. Blaming the Moon is unfair. Most Full Moons are positively lovely. I’ve never wanted to kill someone or even had an accident when the Moon was full, nor have most people I know. So why do the Moon rumors persist? I think it’s because there are two kinds of truth: the empirical and the imaginative. Empirical truths happen to a statistically significant portion of us. Imaginative truths, delivered through rumors and stories, can capture an equally significant number, whether the tale happened to just a few people, or never even happened at all. Empirical facts we can count, but of imaginative ones, we need to ask: What does this story serve? What is it trying to tell us?

As image, werewolves do describe an essential human conflict—from wild nature we emerged, but into societies we go. What do we do with our wild instincts? How do we quell them to abide peacefully with our fellows? How do we cope with those who don’t? Like the opposing forces of Sun and Moon at Full Moon time, the werewolf evokes at once our desire for the wild and its repression. Today this conflict seems difficult as ever. Cemented, corralled and cowed into our cubicles, staring at computer screens, or in our vehicles racing hither and yon, it’s a wonder we aren’t constantly crazy. So it’s understandable that when the Moon is full and beautiful, something deep within us stirs. Perhaps it’s even coded into our DNA, the memory of countless lifetimes spent raising our eyes skyward to bless the Full Moon with joy and gratitude, then lolling, lazing, making love, and dancing in the Moon’s bright bliss.

In the years I’ve been studying the Moon, I’ve learned to listen to these ancient memories. I’ve discovered that appreciating the Full Moon like this hasn’t made me crazy. It actually makes me feel quite sane. Even when I howl.

Share |

Jun

4

June Full Moon

Filed Under Full Moon | 1 Comment

white-rosesI’m behind on my spring cleaning; already I know my summer plans are way too ambitious. Still I’m feeling as gay as a character in a Broadway musical. That’s because my roses are in bloom, a sunny choreography of lavender, burgundy, coral, pink, and cream. Their names are like treasures from afar: Pearl Essence, Moon Shadow, Angel Face, Double Delight. Even the solitary Ole beside the garage shouts when I drive up, “Dance a little!” Mornings I bring my books and journal into the middle of it all, but can hardly write or read. My 401K has shrunk to nothing. I can’t afford college for my son. Still, around my roses, I recall the lines from a Mary Oliver poem: In this world I am as rich / as I need to be.

June’s Full Moon has long been called the “Rose Moon”–for obvious reasons.

Share |

Apr

6

Full Moon Magic at the baths

Filed Under Full Moon | 10 Comments

turkeyvulturestreeI have a history of painful separations with this particular Venus retrograde. Every eight years she retrogrades in Aries through my 8th house of births and deaths. First there was the loss of a husband, then friends, my community–and now, my partner had left to take a job in California. His move is a good one and we keep in touch almost daily through Skype. Still his absence brings a lot of pain, stirring up what’s unresolved in our relationship, and raising old grief from previous separations.

So at the last full moon, with a skittery heart, I went to the baths with my friend Holly. It was ladies night, when the moon, mineral water, naked breasts, gossip and laughter always heals my soul. I was crying and telling Holly how my heart was aching, when a young mother, her beautiful body, full as a ripe pear, rose up and addressed the group. “I believe in the power of women,” she said. “And I would like you to help me by joining in a prayer, a blessing, that would encourage the father of my young daughter to step up and take an interest in her.” Her 10-month-old daughter, wide-eyed, was held in another woman’s arms. Someone recited a prayer. We all raised our hands. Holly whispered, “Dana, this is a prayer for you too.” Then somebody gasped and pointed. Twenty turkey vultures were circling above, a cloud continually dissolving and reforming itself as it moved across the sky. “They eat dead things,” another said. I thought of all my dead griefs and hoped the vultures would take them.

Driving home, the full moon was behind me and Venus was glowing in the west. That night I slept deeply. When I awoke, I could no longer find my pain. Instead I found myself in joyful tears at nearly everything I saw.

Share |