This eclipse was an echo of the solar eclipse last summer, both in Leo. I have the longest post about yesterday’s lunar eclipse extravaganza (because of course I do), but it will never see daylight because I just read this and sat back down and shut my mouth. Damn, that’s some writing. Gala Mukomolova is a heck of a poet and astrologer. I’m going to print this out so I have the joy of highlighting the whole thing. I mean, look at some of her sentences and diction. (also this makes feel very seen and called out in the best way possible. and I couldn’t take it and went though and bolded things because holy moly, that writing.)
…What precious parts of your life do you keep burning down and what do you refuse to hear so that you might keep that pattern going? Have you pushed away those who got too close so that you might not have to see yourself so clearly? Have you stood between yourself and your own promise, ditching deadlines, dreading intimacy, avoiding the inevitable knock of opportunity lest you are called to live up to your own potential? Own your disasters, your coping mechanisms, your bullshit. What served you once won’t serve you now. When you know it’s yours, you know how to let it go. The universe stays difficult, sweet one, it’s you who gets to learn when it’s time to lay a burden down.
Say you are wiser than you’ve ever been because life gave you teachers. Admit that some teachers give you books and some give you the kind of apples that show you what paradise can never be. Outside of the paradise, we are taught to imagine is the world we must learn to love and everything in it, where death presses tight against birth until there is no separation. This is how we move through grief, this is how we enter joy. Outside the paradise we imagine, our moon blushes red sliding close to the Earth and grows large as if struck with the eros of darkness. Remember the Solar Eclipse? The corona a gold ring, a vow. This Lunar Eclipse asks you back to the altar to renew your commitment. Surrender, and this afterglow is for you.
The illusion of control isn’t freedom, it’s alienation. Reacquaint yourself with yourself.
Let the Leo Full Moon teach you self-love the way only a Leo can. Make your room your temple. Put on whatever makes you feel beautiful, and if nothing makes you feel beautiful, then take everything off. Your mirror is a well to drink from, so stare into your own eyes longer than feels comfortable, let yourself feel vain, feel like Narcissus, but keep looking. All the planets of the universe, their dust and grace, live in your gaze. Welcome them home to your body, the bones and flesh of it, a body that protects the stars in you. You can touch yourself, you can touch yourself toward no destination, as if you’re waking to find yourself in bed with a lover you have been missing for months. Fan your fingers over your ribcage and thank it for protecting your heart, press your palm to your face because your face is precious, press your fingers to your lips and acknowledge their power. Your lips that open gently and break unbearable silences.”