Hi, doll.
Chances are good this finds you emotionally in your cups. Perhaps last night’s dreams were wild. Perhaps your conversations or, ahem, social encounters were intense. You may feel inexplicably crabby or tired no matter how much sleep you got, like you’re PMSing even if you don’t menstruate.
You may be feeling hungover without having had a drink.
I would never pretend the cause of anything is purely astrological, but I’d also be surprised if you were feeling like your ordinary self today. In the wee hours of this morning, we were graced with a lunar eclipse that for all intents and purposes was like a supermoon on steroids. Messy and magical!
Speaking—gasp!—astronomically rather than astrologically for a hot minute, eclipses occur when the moon aligns with the Sun and Earth by reaching the upper and lower boundaries, or “lunar nodes,” of its orbit. New moons transform into solar eclipses as the moon shadows the sun, and full moons transform into lunar eclipses as the Earth shadows the moon.
This morning’s eclipse marks the beginning of eclipse season, which occurs twice a year, with two or three eclipses a pop.
Both astronomically and astrologically, eclipses exert a powerful gravity that pulls everything out of its normal trajectory. Bodies of water behave differently. So do we. Last night’s sky was even suffused with an eerie red glow.
Lunar eclipses blow out what’s holding us back. Old energies surface, particularly ones we thought were already released from our field. Problems, patterns; resistances and relationships. The impact is seismic—far more than that of a solar eclipse, which focuses on initiations and actions, rather than endings and emotions.
Taking place in Venus-ruled Libra, this lunar eclipse reveals obstacles and illusions around aesthetics, intimacy, and ethics. It is chastening us to connect with, and as, love.
Your great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone. As if life were a progressive and cunning crime with no witness to the tiny hidden transgressions.—David Whyte
This whole eclipse season is thrusting us into the axis of Libra and Aries, where the sun currently resides. (The April 8 solar eclipse will take place in Aries.) Unlike relationship-oriented, peaceful Libra, Aries is a first-chakra gal who goes from the gut, breaks through glass ceilings, and is fiercely self-reliant. She is perpetually reminding us that we already possess everything we need.
Paired together, these two signs are highlighting the importance of interdependence.
I’ve said before that I’d take independence over codependence any day, but only interdependence is sustainable. As long as we are in our bodies, we need each other. We need each other’s touch; we need each other’s gaze. We need the food and entertainment and shelter and light we provide each other.
If this species of ours is going to survive the next few years—hell, if we’re going to survive past next November!—we must prioritize harmonious, healthy interdependence as we never have before.
Nuts and Bolts
Lunar eclipses can wreak havoc on our nervous system, and they impact us for weeks after they are exact. This one’s effects will be especially pronounced because we already are in the shadow of a Mercury retrograde that promises to be so aggressive that it will be hard to ignore. Beginning April 1, Mercury will malinger in Aries, which genuinely hates being held back.
We are all going to have to dig deep to find the inner tools to meet this madness with magnanimity.
It is important to avoid overstimulation, overplanning, and overexplaining. so eat simply, hydrate wildly, breath deeply. Do whatever it takes to physically ground yourself.
Avoid white-knuckling of all forms, but do wear white and other pale colors to reflect light like the moon herself. Minimize the use of electricity so other frequencies can flow more freely.
Treat everyone as tenderly as you would the most delicate toddler. Practice great patience with yourself and others. Do not rush into decisions or declarations. Activate long-dormant bonds, appreciate what you rarely acknowledge, release what’s worn out its welcome. Ask for help, even if you don’t know who or what you’re petitioning.
Ask: Where is the love?
The events that occur over the next two weeks may in some way harken back to events around the solar eclipse in Libra on October 14th, 2023, and also may tie into events around the solar eclipse in Libra on October 2, 2024. Case in point: This weekend, more than one person in my orbit found themselves in the throes of a breakup of a relationship that began last October. Others were drawn to creative projects they’d put aside back then.
If you have major planets or placements in Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn, you may experience this lunar eclipse more powerfully.
In full disclosure, with my sun and Mercury in Capricorn and moon in Libra, I was so wiped out by yesterday’s readings that I fell asleep at 8pm, missing a dear friend’s art opening and delaying the release of this Ruby Report edition. Though normally I’d be furious with myself, I’m trying to practice what this lunar eclipse is preaching: Patience and compassion, babies.
Easier said than done, eh?
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and seen the good in you at last. All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you.—David Whyte
This eclipse season, my office door is especially open. To work with these forces of change moving through us, to book a reading for yourself or a loved one. Feel free to forward this newsletter to whomever it may help.
Try to accept this eclipse as a push from the multiverse to move beyond intimacy patterns, aesthetic standards, and social mores that have outlived their purpose.
Remember that only change doesn’t change.
With waggling eyebrows and slow kitty blinks,
"Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and seen the good in you at last. All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you.—David Whyte"
If onlyI could figure this out, finally. I don't know, does one figure this out at 47 when you were basic born aloof, kind of old, and introverted. I guess I'll give it a shot again. I envy nothing more than the extrovert who will ask anyone for help. One of my friends will tell her life story to anyone, the checkout clerk, her weed dealer, pretty much anyone who will listen...after she's called me. I wish I had this in me. The burden is heavy when it's not shared.