ARIES FULL MOON HOROSCOPES
hello friends, the Aries moon is growing full.
officially, Sunday Oct 9 at 1:54pm Pacific
This full moon asks us to gather what we've learned from a *rather intense mercury retrograde* and establish a self-affirming plan ahead. Enjoy this jolt of momentum, let it heal some wounded confidence. Make a bold choice that advocates for your own needs, knowing that being selfish doesn't have to mean isolation...the more we feel fulfilled in our own purpose, the more bandwidth we have for our relationships. Mid-October is a supportive time to renegotiate any lingering imbalances between self and other.
Aries energy may make us feel impatient to figure it all out and charge towards the end zone...but I encourage you to make room for non-linear progress. The ruler of this full moon is a herky-jerky Mars in Gemini getting ready to go retrograde.
As the month unfolds, a leap forward may turn into a leap sideways or we may need to get clever and re-strategize our footwork. Don’t be scared to jump in place or get caught in the rope and rest. Mars in Gemini is prone to overthink, spiral into paradox and *do too much at once* so take this full moon to streamline your ambitions...simplifying your docket will give you more stamina and help you from getting tangled. Mars starts moving backwards on Oct 30th in the midst of eclipse season !! Mars will be retrograde until mid-January 2023 and so set yourself up for a winter of major turning points and pivots - notice what bridges are ready to burn and what new doors fling open - even if you got to skip sideways through them.
You are a locomotive. You are an engine in the hatch - pushing through timetables, maps, arrival times, confusion, fear. When you fully believe in where you are going and what you want, the world pays to ride. Some have alt destinations, will just wave and watch you pass. Conserve your energy for those sitting in your lap, absorbed by the landscape moving through your windows. Your power jump-starts millions of motors. Wake us up, sound the whistle, show us how to get where we're going.
We’ve all hung around the wrong places. We've all learned handshakes that lock us into norms. For some of us it takes a lifetime to step out of a collective rhythm. You know you're in the right place when your feet lengthen, when your shirt doesn't fit anymore. You're in the right place when your ears grow past your eyes and your pinky finger pops, when the circle has to step back a little to make room for your extra shoulders. Its easy to find your people, they protrude jumbo from the crowd - together you convene like giants.
All information is flimsy, derivative at best - no one really knows what they are talking about. The only way to come into your wisdom is to tear up magazines with your teeth, punch holes in the holy bible. Your mind is growing rapidly, stress-testing reality, learning where it stands and how to structure its arguments. Tell your people what you mean. Speak bravely, dare to disagree, dare to stare at something until you know everything about it in your own way.
Love is always a choice. Rules or no rules - either we want to strengthen bonds between others or we don’t. Love is always a choice - either we want to build intimacy or we want to be right. Love is a choice, either we lean in and care or we get the last word in. Either they have to change, or this is a team sport. We can’t win them all, why would you want to win them all ? How you lose together is the greatest triumph, confidence is not always built through winning. Real confidence is proving to yourself that you can get through hard things with others.
As the myth goes, the hero has a calling - must go off alone, leave their village, risk death, fight off monsters with their special skills. Yet, what if true greatness defied the hero’s journey ? What if you are the monster ? What if lonely hero's, fooled by individualism, came knocking at your door looking for the next win ? You little demon riddle master. You, smiling, burping, scratching. You with the whole town singing, sitting around your card table. Greatness isn't conquering the heroes journey, it's designing your own rules to the game.
When the world is dying and we can’t breathe the air and we are all wearing goggles and the shared centerpoint of reality goes to shit, all that we will have left is art. All we have left is to leave proof of what this was and that it was unusually beautiful. The world needs you to tell us what pleasures prevailed beyond all the atrocities and low buzz stress…to let us know how the sun hits your cat's face, how you drove miles and miles overnight (no sleep) to fingerbang your sweetheart. Your art is the only survivor, as Frida Kahlo says, “I paint flowers so they will not die.”
The secret to all of this is that you need more than one body. The secret is that you have to build that body yourself - slowly like tempering a cloud. The secret is that you are a multidimensional river demon, a steam bubble, a mind fart - when you boil over impurities dissolve. Your eyes like bread rising in the oven, we throw you steaming hot into the water and you *expand*... The secret is that you must fall apart over and over in order to expand. Let any confusion cook down into a pulp, inside this clump of who you've been, another body.
Anxiety convinces us that good things are bad, anxiety lets fear win and turns around and calls it safety. As Rumi says, “your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” Love and goodness is already all around you, automatic like breath. Wipe your darting eyes and notice that you're breathing. How might your defenses actually be the least safest thing ? Decide now, that to climb the wall of all your growth edges, one must first stop ganging up against love.
Only inside the guts of someone else do we know how we are not them. Sometimes we must let love destroy us, only in rubble can we know what is irrelevant. Death is a gift because it helps us live harder, helps us live with our eyes wide open. The magical thing about you is that you do not fear being destroyed with your eyes wide open, that you will stop at nothing to know yourself. All you need is a tiny glow, the smallest embers power an epic life path. Loss after loss, love after love, be brave enough to blow on these ashes.
It feels good to throw yourself into *time* like a fireball. How full some days can be. Your schedule is a carved down pencil, a disciplined laser burning off those in the periphery. Yet, what life is left in the aftermath of tunnel vision…what is more important: to be an autonomous bot or to let the chaos of life show you the shape of your heart ? Remember: the daily rituals and sacraments that help you feel in control are only the beginning of the great magical battle of becoming yourself. As Kandinksy says, “the artist must train not only their eye, but also their soul.”
As kids we went to church, day care, after-school whatevers, lights out by 9. Many of our early experiences were just trying to survive a bell enforced by someone else's rhythm. How freeing and how complicated to grow up, to design your own time. It is an act of re-parenting to use a day wisely, to listen to the rhythm of your own guts. Answer the call of your special dinging and donging. Let those dinner bells give you chills, if you’re not doing what really perks you up, you will go hungry lights out by 9.
We’ve wandered into many versions of ourselves, fallen into the paint-mix. Pigmented by everyones color, you are a beautiful rainbow. To be sovereign and define ourselves is to find a refraction of the color spectrum. In any case, color has nothing to do with the self. The self is not even the canvas. The self is uncontainable movement. You are a primal blur of constant *becoming*... How might you see your worthiness in this technicolor swoop, to honor who are now in this moment, now tilting towards new palettes.