November 2, 2012
The Disseminating Moon is the square-and-a-half that follows each Full Moon, asking us what we've learned. At this Disseminating Moon, in bright, connected Gemini, we're children sitting on the shore, trying to put the pieces together.
The Grand Water Trine is with us still, with Saturn in Scorpio tightly trine Ceres in Cancer, trined by Neptune and Chiron in Pisces.
The Moon is 8 degrees away from Ceres, and Uranus less than 2 degrees from squaring Ceres––the fierce mother archetype morphs suddenly into something much larger than we've ever seen.
The oceans command our attention today in direct, unavoidable ways. Weather patterns, storms, wind, rain, rising sea levels. Things that are huge. Things we cannot control. Events that change the world as we know it.
Once, years ago when my daughter was little, she and I were caught in a rip tide off the North Carolina coast. It was a sunny afternoon, we were in sight of the shore, many people were around, and help came. Still it was terrifying––knowing I was in a current stronger than me, and I needed help to free myself and protect my child. I had nightmares about it for years afterwards. I cannot imagine facing a storm of Sandy's magnitude.
So, at one level, this Disseminating Moon brings messages about the power of wind, water and tides, and about the limits of human intervention, and also about our capacity for survival, adaptation, courage, hope, and compassion.
As I write this Thursday morning, 2 million people are still without power on the East Coast, over 100 people have died in the Caribbean and across Eastern North America, and more are missing. Many pieces have yet to be put together, to understand the total impact of this storm, and where we go from here.
Those of us not living in Sandy's path send prayers, good wishes, and support, as we think those "what if" thoughts ... because an event of this power brings up issues for everyone.
This Full Moon in Taurus brought us face to face with the gifts of Earth and also her limits, with the power of emotion and intuition, and also its shadows. Like the goddess Ceres, who we know better as Demeter, the Earth goes so far and no farther.
And yet, the Earth is neither vengeful nor angry. We take our place in the great pattern of life, our actions create changes we cannot see, and other things happen––because of what we did, perhaps, but the equation is not a simple one. We live within complex, interwoven systems in which decisions made by others somehow lead to where we stand among tangled strands we try to unwind.
Mary Oliver's poem Shadows closes with these words:
... Whatever
power of the earth rampages, we turn to it
dazed but anonymous eyes; whatever
the name of the catastrophe, it is never
the opposite of love.
And so we pick up the pieces, weave new patterns, and get on with things. We help those who have suffered loss. We honor those whose courage saved lives and homes. We breathe. We understand that love is something we can bring to the pattern, something that changes things, something of great power.
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| rainbow over NYC after Sandy |
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