World Shadow Horoscope, July 31st, 2020

July 31st, overcast, calm, stormy, as sun and moon turn toward wounded healer Chiron, there’s a version of us falling on concrete, scraping our knees, watching as blood paints our legs.

Crying out for help, it seems the guidance of the elders has been hushed and that we’ll find ourselves all alone in a rainstorm consumed by a giant orb of light, with electricity shaking our human constitution into something else unknown.

But first, awareness of the scraped bleeding edge sears and tears at our heart-strings. Or is it memories of the infinite wound-gushing from long ago?

The seeming impossibility of moving forward, when we look around, is met with a quiet guidance. An elder is present, witnessing the tender percolation of blood. Like the quiet of soft rain before sunshine, we, too, fall silent, as if digesting the powerful guidance uttered by mentors.

The cries for help tending to the boo-boos become grist for the mill of our consciousness and our own ability to transmit gentle counsel within those quiet spaces.

The blisters of rock-bottom don’t show us destroyed by that luminous orb, by the effulgent future-past wound; those blisters rather reveal us joyfully wielding the power of that same celestial thunder.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 30th, 2020

July 30th, Mercury opposition Jupiter and a loony T-square to Neptune, we histrionically enter the world stage as lovesick dancers with tears made of silver and copper glitter, lipstick smudged from kissing our own selves overwhelmed by romantic projections.

If not for this literally enacted self-love, if not for the touch of lips to own skin, then the boiling passions for phantasms of others—of lovers, of ghosts of future segments of life— would be too unbearable and possess us with rage, lust or righteous indignation. The smudged, danced descent into papers covered in candy hearts is more bearable, as we lament over having written love letters to the whole class and species.

Two flames burn steadily and emit sparks overhead, announcing the present crisis as an opportunity to temper that urge for both merging *and* autonomy with a touch of humility, love of one’s own speculative suffering and oceanic sadness.

The popping embers in the air keep the frenzy at a sufficient distance from our lovesick dance, and we know, rolling in the sugary artifacts of our own longing, that the stage provides the clue into the hearts of the foundations of human support systems we need to preserve.

What’s worth preserving, in this instance, is that which nourishes the innermost vital burning of passionate discovery, emotion and connection.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 28th, 2020

July 28th, scorpio moon & more, we see there’s a fine line between the moods of fire and ice, between the hells of the subtropic and of cold queendom. Brooding, perhaps vengeful, perhaps paranoid, we circumambulate a circle that spirals into a frigid abyss: the center of a bullethole, or a double agent for the primal horde, its anchor and its bottomless dark.

It’s tempting today for this center to be bitter words, deceptive flattery, phone gossip, or numbing pills. Surveillance encircles our brain space, and we want either the full scoop or a full-stop exit, nothing in between.

Though we may feel brittle, icy & inflexible, a guiding spirit exists within and around us, saying, “it’s time to bend back and screech at the sun.” Doing this, we find our limbs laced with ice extending into the sky. The ice cracks and our limbs reveal themselves as shafts of light, as in realizing we’re many-armed god forms. We glimpse black cells thriving within these rays.

The way through the bitterness and brittleness is precisely in that many-armed light’s breaking of the ice, revealing the nourishing cellular dance we all are. Not condemned to infomania or escape, we move like cells with no need of protection through our existence within light itself.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 26th, 2020

July 26th: “these chains are the sound of every time I was broken and put back together,,” we’re told, as a symphony of chains clashes around a warrior leading us down a marshy path. Ready for the fight and also tender, we proceed with red eyes, pink faces, protruding veins out onto the blank canvas of individual desire.

Entitled, whining toddlers accompany us, tucked under our arms, roaring with the need to be loved into the heart’s insatiable void. The urges seem too big for us, too grand and boastful for any foundation to hold.

Think of a bridge, expanding when hot, contracting when cold, collapsing from a failure at both of its extremes. Think then of installing joints into concrete to regulate cracking.

The schisms in our bodies and souls today groove our awareness toward the dark bottom of wants and needs. The joints that crack with the downpours and heat form a via negativa, the righteous quakes of urgency a road to knowing our faults.

Like roads, our souls, too, have grooves to map the way, to sustain ourselves through the anguish of growing and shrinking.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 25th, 2020

July 25th, officials in suits trip and stumble down sun-baked steps, barking at each other using caustic words and gibberish. The stains of insult form on the white collars, betraying a mandala of last night’s dinner, or yesteryear’s dessert, sending all of humanity careening back into a sticky, wet, musky kitchen.

With no dishwashers to churn time forward or allow us to indulge diplomatic laziness in favor of self-satisfaction, we slouch over dishes piled up between clumps of soggy food. Our criteria of beauty finds this situation intolerable—a stream of rejected nutrients, rejected fellow humans, bullied or untapped soul-parts. It causes spasms of rage as we bite lips & contort faces.

But the stream of old bread leads to a glimpse of a horizon wherein true justice may reside: raging through the stifling sense of duty is possibly the only route to seeing the sunset, or dawn, of balance beyond the gavel-happy judges of self & other, high on condemnatory lingo, we’ve been tempted to become.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 24th, 2020

July 24, a blazing comet falls out of the sky, appearing to us as a flaming ghost who invites us in for tea. They tell us about Vesta, goddess of the fire in the hearth, at the far midpoint of Jupiter and Pluto. Flames crackle and pop, recalling nostalgic memories of campfires and bonfires, but also knowledge of danger: we can’t move too close to this guiding brilliance today or it’ll burn us.

Government police vomit out the zealous advocates of a better world, swords and pitchforks clash, stomach settlers are gulped down in kitchens, and we perceive each of these within the nanoseconds in which these flames of life crackle and flail.

The goddess, in the first place, was barfed out because such a rigid structure couldn’t hold this dazzling light. Rejuvenated temples—bodies, gods, governments—are needed, and today we glimpse an awareness of this need through the intimate devotion to what matters most.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 23rd, 2020

July 23rd, hypochondriacs tremble in slow motion, descending to the ground in corresponding tempos to collapsing buildings. The humans quiver for safe boundaries around their existence, crying out for some structure and organization until a llama trots over and knocks their beautiful, sweaty, panicky selves off-center.

Being out of bounds may not feel precise or comfortable, but it’s a way to peer through the eyes of the animals we once were at what’s really going on, and laugh about it. A parade of warty hens cast missiles while clucking and feigning laughter. Venus and Juno ask, “is this diplomacy or is it back-biting?”

The empress hen, ever vain, clucks out a song of the truth, singing that we must be smart but that this, too, can be funny.

Through the out of bounds stance and the cock-a-doodle-doo of empathy, it matters not whether we are experiencing the anguish of insulation or of ambiguity. We crawl and cluck through it. N’importe quoi!

World Shadow Horoscope, July 22nd, 2020

July 22nd, intimidating birds with an eternal wingspan watch prudently at the moment we need to shake the bedsheets clean of dust. We suspect it’s time to rouse ourselves from the foggy slumber of older kinship dynamics.

Sobbing, wailing mothers and fathers lament at a frequency matching only the roar of courage we need to utter. We sound the cry, dusting ourselves off, knowing on the other side of the garage door, a shiny, sun-kissed ground awaits. On this foundation, it’s possible to retrace our steps of development and bonding anew, beginning as toddlers rolling in giggles and emerging into full-throated, full-bodied dancers among flames.

The old sorrows, vulnerabilities, shame and maggoty sibling fights over dinner, too, burn, generating heat and purpose.

Singing a lullaby to those once-comforting dirty sheets, we cartwheel into the demanding horizon, salivating as it awaits our gifts.

World Shadow Horoscope, July 21st, 2020

July 21, a spiky angel, with thorns growing out of its being, goes to sleep next to us on floating carpets surrounded by dark clouds. The daunting task before us is tempered by the angel’s patient attitude—as we tremble at the doubt about self and other cast by the clouds, the angel lets us nest and discover what we need to learn. “I’m the messenger,” he says. The task is to stand up, our bodies bisecting the cloud’s gray expanse, proclaiming what the Individual of the present time needs to be. This vertical impulse disrupts the dense pessimism in which we’ve been tempted to shelter. After giving us our own thorns, which help us build immunity as we grow past that dark sun of melancholy’s nest, the thorny angel lets us fly on its back, revealing that it’s possible to glide through the ominous doubt about the structures that once nourished us, and upon doing so, we will emerge as glorious pillars of rejuvenated values intersecting the past’s tenderness and lunacy.

Questions to ask during the New Moon in Cancer opposite Saturn:

*what, if anything, do you share with your parents & grandparents that you see as essential to who you are today?

*to what extent are the *social* markers of the deep bonds you share with your parents essential? In other words, which of the norms your parents taught you mark an essential bond with your ancestors?

*What norms your parents taught you show where human consciousness was in their time, but are no longer essential?

*What norms (including ones you may have previously thought defined your bond with your ancestors) are not only inessential but repressive and poisonous?

*is the place where you’re currently residing an accommodating structure for both feeling and creating on a personal and communal level? For feeling held, connected, supported?

*if external space feels cramped, how is more inner space possible? Where is the outer & inner structure asking for more space?

*where does fear of lack obstruct your ability to create & nurture within your most intimate sphere? Is there a way to transform this fear of lack into 1) decluttered openness, 2) gratitude for the resources that endure to keep you alive (especially the invisible ones), and 3) clarity on the first actions to take that will help sustain the foundation of your nurturing space?