It’s another New Moon, when wishes are super-charged with sparkling energy. But if you don’t have a strong relationship with the archetypes, don’t expect buckets of fairy dust. New Moons are potent times to forge alliances. But you must be willing to meet the invisible world where they find you.
“Humans always sing about what they most need,” said Libra one sunny afternoon. “The Hopi sing for rain. The Inuit sing for a successful hunt. And judging by your culture’s most popular songs, what you most need—or lack—is love.” I asked if she agreed and she replied in typical Libra fashion: “Yes and no,” she said.
People expect Libra to be all lace and romance; after all, she’s the sign of beauty and relationships. But to understand her properly, you should know about her goddess mother—Dike—who was in charge of the Dice of Fate and the Scales of Justice. It was her job to keep the constantly changing world in balance. She lived on Earth throughout the Gold and Silver Ages, before mankind knew how to sail, drive, or fly. Back then forests and grasslands grew the cures for all disease. But as humans multiplied, so did their quarreling and greed.
Life tipped out of balance. Peace gave way to war. Lovers hurt each other.
Daughters turned against their mothers. Fathers turned against their sons.
Dike begged people to settle their differences with understanding. “Talk it out. Be fair. Realize how alike you are…” Few listened. And so it’s said that Libra’s mother just gave up. She abandoned the Scales and ran away. “Too soft, too sensitive, a people-pleaser,” some said. “She’s fickle and indifferent,” others accused.
Yet to look at Libra now—with her clear eyes and startling beauty—it’s obvious she comes from sturdier stock. Libra can take a mottled crowd and waltz them into harmony, a fete that only someone unafraid of Chaos could perform. Libra is sensitive but not delicate. She chose the balance beam as her symbol–not an unprotected heart. As an emissary of justice, Libra weighs what appears and works with it—skillfully. If she brings Sorrow and Anger to the party, by midnight she’ll have them dancing with Hope and Joy. Charm and Grace are her best friends, but don’t mistake her easy chatter. Her words may seem sweet and superficial; but meanwhile, she’s learning everything about you.
Once I was bold enough to ask, “What really happened to your mother? Is she a quitter?” “Oh no,” Libra replied. “When people stopped listening to her words, she demonstrated her message: she dissolved into the center of the scales! It was a profound meditation for those who could see it… and very brave.”
Particularly in wildly divided times like ours today,
it takes courage to dissolve one’s position and enter the center,
where all points of view converge.
But that was Dike’s message.
And it’s the surest way to call in Libra at this New Moon. Life is forever veering out of balance. So put yourself on tactical alert. Take note whenever you find yourself at war—with your loved ones, your body, the traffic, your kitchen toaster, the politicians, or the world. Slow down. Find the still point in the center of your heart. Relax. Don’t defend yourself. Imagine how you look from your opponent’s eyes. Can you give the very thing that you want to receive? Do this often and you’ll no longer be starving—or singing—for love, like a desperate farmer chanting for rain. You will be Love itself.
I met Libra just yesterday at the natural foods store. There was an elderly woman in a blue pant suit, who seemed to keep moving right in front of wherever I was reaching, without any regard for my presence. I made a point to move to other parts of the store–and there she was again! It was a spiritual test for which I give myself a D. You see, the bad angel on my shoulder was growing ever more impatient and irritated. The good angel kept reminding that no real harm was being done. “Remember,” she whispered, “you vowed to practice Venus virtues, including the gift of being kind.” Yet when the lady in the blue pantsuit blocked me for the sixth time, I couldn’t help myself. With feigned kindness and an imaginary dagger behind my back, I said, “We sure seem to be in each other’s path today!” She looked startled and immediately apologized. “I’m nearly deaf,” she said, “I don’t have a lot of awareness of what goes on around me.” Oh! I see. She wasn’t being rude at all. She was protecting herself. She draws her aura in, which blunts her situational awareness. All of her gestures made new sense and now, I was the one without awareness! My bad angel slunk away, appropriately shamed. I was grateful for this Libra message.
How smoother life would be if our curiosity about strangers was always bigger than our irritations with them.
Discover Libra’s message for you this year. No way can I predict it. Libra is infinitely creative. With great elegance, every year, she’ll find just the right experience to help you maintain your balance. Often she uses other people—the very ones who push your buttons and shatter your inner equilibrium. Is there anyone better with whom to practice the art of peace? Notice all the strong and subtle ways you’re called to stop and shift direction this cycle. If your life has been filled with work and disappointment, you may feel the urge to eat gourmet cupcakes and put fresh flowers in the kitchen or a lavender diffuser by your bed. You may want to lock the door, draw the curtains, and play music that pierces your heart, so that you dance around the dining room table until you finally know that the world—and you—are beautiful, inside and out.
It’s an auspicious time to touch into the deeper layers of your own Venus (order my intimate report, “Your Venus Unleashed” here).
Or commit to your archetypal vibrance by enrolling in my monthly Moon workshop this cycle. Touch what’s true in you.
© 2017 Dana Gerhardt
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