No one wants The Tower.
But sometimes, we need it.
I pulled two cards for this full moon lunar eclipse. The first to appear was the Page of Wands. Happy card, beginnings, a new bright spirit holding a crystal-peaked wand high in the sunlit desert, light flowing in seven rays from it. Yes, a good card for any season. And yet, it didn’t seem right for the energies I sensed most strongly.
So I asked again. And drew The Tower.
Which I promptly wanted to put back and not deal with. The Tower is not a happy-looking card in any deck I’ve seen. Lightning strikes the tower, breaking it from without. Or a ray of light explodes it from within. Stormy skies, falling figures, crashing waves. It looks and feels like disaster.
And yet . . . .
Sometimes we need to break the forms that are restricting our growth. Sometimes it’s not enough to renovate a little, maybe upgrade the plumbing or add another room. Sometimes the whole building needs to come crashing down so we can sift through the rubble and find the building blocks of a new life.
The Eclipse is taking place Sunday, September 27. The sun will be in early Libra, the moon in early Aries. The sun is just past the Autumnal equinox, which took place Wednesday as I was flying from the middle of the country to visit my sister in Seattle.
When we were children, all I could see were the differences between us. Her arrival shattered the solitary Tower in which I had lived as an only child for six years. I’d asked for a little sister, but like all children hadn’t thought about what that really meant. I didn’t like sharing the spotlight. I didn’t like the noises she made. I demanded she be returned to the hospital.
And as she grew, the six years of age and the temperamental differences—she’s a sunny Leo, I’m a moody lunar Cancerian—seemed so much greater than our similarities. It wasn’t until we were adults that we realized we had more in common than we’d been willing to admit as children or teens. And we became friends. Astrologically, this plays out as both of us having Libra ascendants, and both having moons in Venus-ruled signs. Mine is in Libra, hers in Taurus.
As I write this in her Seattle kitchen, she’s being true to that earthy Taurus moon and beauty-loving ascendant. She’s with one of her landscape company’s employees cleaning a client’s garden, helping the plants she so lovingly placed in the spring prepare for their season of rest.
I love that she’s been able to create a second career for herself that honors her passion for the Earth, and her talent for design. And that she and her husband are still active in the Seattle arts scene, still putting together modern dance performances of verve and wit.
I’ve done a little past-life work in recent days, and it seems that past lifetimes in which standing out became dangerous or fatal might still be at work in my current fear of visibility.
All this is a long, round-about way of saying that this Autumn equinox-lunar eclipse trip seems like the perfect time to smash the tiny tower in which I’ve held myself prisoner. To consecrate my daily activities to the Libran path, harvesting the fruits of my artistry. To draw the warrior Aries energy into my inner, lunar self and stand strong.
For more about the astrology of this eclipse, I like Divine Harmony’s look at the planetary energies supporting growth and karmic clearing, excerpted with some other choice tidbits in the Mystic Mamma blog. To me, it’s not only the planets working with the Sun and Moon—I also like that Saturn, the Lord of Form, is trine the Aries moon and sextile the Libra sun. Both are supportive energies. This might seem an odd choice for a “smash the Tower! Break your chains!” post. But to me, it is not. When the earth shifts or lightning strikes, that which is strong will remain. That which is destroyed, was not worthy of standing.
Also, this is a South Node Eclipse, so it highlights something that needs to end, particularly if it’s an ending that has karmic significance. But as the South Node is in Aries, that also means beginnings. That as we say goodbye to something, we also say hello.
Aliza of MoonPluto Astrology drew an Eight of Wands, signifying swiftness, as the main meaning for this eclipse. Meaning that whatever changes with this eclipse will change quickly. I also think of my own Page of Wands, messenger of positive change. I think it’s significant that I drew him first. That the universal energies held out hope before letting me know that I must break down a strong and fearsome structure to get there.
As a ritual, I see myself sitting in meditation between a white and a black candle. If I were at home, I would use my black scrying mirror. Here, I’ll use a black bowl filled with water. I know consciously what actions I need to take to move forward. What I’m looking for from the Gods is the shadow side of those actions, the fears that still lurk to keep me held in place. Perhaps I’ll see them in my mind, perhaps in the water. And when I see them, I will write them on a piece of paper. And then light the paper with the dark candle. I will let the paper curl and disintegrate in a fireproof bowl, then scatter the ashes into the wind. I shall pour the waters of the scrying bowl onto the Earth. And walk away, free.