Hi, doll.
Greetings from today’s full moon in Virgo, an astrological oxymoron if ever there were one.
Often chaotic and always cathartic, full moons blow out obstacles and release stuck energy by any means necessary. Virgo, which overall does not deserve its bad rap, resists letting go and losing control, also by any means necessary.
So this weekend is bound to feel super screwball, and not necessarily in a charming, 1940s movie sort of way.
There’s also bound to be some magic, especially since we’re knee-deep in mystical Pisces season. As the final sign in the zodiac, Pisces has absorbed every lesson learned by the other signs—most importantly, that everything but love is an illusion.
This doesn’t necessarily mean that every Pisces person is the most evolved soul; sun placement is only one component of a natal chart. But it does mean that during Pisces season we’re all unusually empathic and intuitive—sometimes to the point of overwhelm.
When I still did in-person readings, my clients went through double the normal amount of Kleenex during Pisces season. So many tears! So many breakthroughs!
Pisces’ dreamy, all-is-one orientation directly opposes that of God-is-in-the-details Virgo. You know the expression “Can’t see the forest for the trees?” Pisces only sees the forest. Virgo only sees the trees.
But both signs emphasize compassion and service, and that’s a powerful overlap. The key is practical magic, my very favorite sort of magic.
Practical magic is the alchemy that occurs when you work problems step-by-step. It is what psychologists refer to as “glimmers”— small, seemingly ordinary moments that spark joy, wonder, and peace. (The opposite of triggers, basically.)
Practical magic is the miracle that occurs when you meet the multiverse halfway rather than passively waiting for change to happen.
Rituals, Not Rules
While not necessarily pleasant, this full moon will expose anything that is keeping you small or ungrounded. Any pettiness, hostility, compulsion, lack of care or compassion. Any area where you can’t see the forest for the trees or the trees for the forest.
So when things (sorry) invariably go wrong this weekend, don’t try to white-knuckle through the frustration, disappointment, pain. Instead, gently work the problem.
Ask yourself: What’s really going on here? Going deeper than your standard response will produce better than usual results.
If you catch yourself feeling uncharitable about someone—judgmental, competitive, you name it—don’t rationalize or dismiss it. Instead, take a beat to locate the button being pressed, then show it as much firm kindness as you would a kid misbehaving in the sandbox.
If you find yourself overwhelmed, don’t numb the feeling. Sit with it. Then agree to do one thing to reduce your overwhelm, no matter how small. The only way out of an unlit hallway is one step at a time, but all kids fear the dark so need to be lovingly led by the hand.
If you skin your knee, don’t just slap on a bandaid. Sit yourself down, carefully clean out the cut, and give yourself a treat before returning to business as usual. Show yourself the care you’d show the most precious child you’ve ever known.
Because you are.
The trick isn’t merely to soothe the wounded inner child. The trick is to activate the inner parent who can do the soothing. Today’s full moon introduces us to both.
Metaphysician, Heal Thyself
On the way back from my birthday adventure last month, I got a flat tire. It wasn't catastrophic—I suspect the plunging temperatures had degraded the air pressure of my teeny-tiny car's tires—but I discovered the problem 20 miles into my 120-mile trip, on an isolated stretch of the Catskills’ Highway 17 studded only with the occasional MAGA sign.
It was 10 degrees outside, the roads were icy as hell, I couldn't call Triple A because I had no cell service, and flagging down a stranger in Trump country seemed ill-advised to say the very least. It all felt like the beginning of an extremely bad horror movie.
Just as I was beginning to really melt down, I heard someone talking before realizing the voice was coming from me.
Here's what it said: You are 53. You have credit cards and cash. You have a spare tire and a jack. Your brain and back work. You can figure this out, doll. Breathe.
I nodded obediently as if this bossy, big-hearted broad really were outside myself. Then I drove very slowly to the next gas station, where I pumped as much air as possible into the tire on the off chance there wasn't an actual leak. It inflated properly, so rather than changing it I drove home at a glacial pace, stopping every 30 minutes to ensure the tire pressure hadn't dangerously plummeted.
Really, it's not that big a story. Minerva (my car) and I safely made it home, where my permakitten greeted us with her standard combination of fury and adoration. (Behold a rescue cat with abandonment issues.) But I felt such satisfaction that I, you know, Handled It.
This is the gift of getting older, I think. You don't just gain perspective. You gain the protection of your smarter, stronger self, sitting like a soft cushion between you and your troubles.
It’s a gift always available to us when we slow down enough to accept it.
“We make complicated what is simple, and the powers of darkness rejoice.”—Madeline L’Engle
Over the last few months I’ve been unsure about whether to move The Ruby Report off Substack. For now I’ve resolved to keep it here because no other solution has proven infallible and my indecision has been blocking all that comes through on your behalf.
Moving forward I will resume my weekly publishing schedule for paid subscribers, and continue to refine this offering for all. Rest assured that if and when I migrate it elsewhere, I will do so without disrupting your subscription, whether free or paid.
To activate the practical magic of this time of year, book a reading for yourself or a loved one, and please share this newsletter with whomever it may help.
Your support allows me to serve, and I thank you.
With waggling eyebrows and slow kitty blinks,
So on point as usual!! :D
"Instead, take a beat to locate the button being pressed, then show it as much firm kindness as you would a kid misbehaving in the sandbox."
Such a good reminder! - thanks Lisa Ruby