Question: What happens when your solar return arrives the day before a supermassive blood red wolf moon eclipse in my-way-or-the-highway Leo? Answer: You cry a whole lot, which is how I spent my birthday, no holds barred. I wept more yesterday than on any birthday I’ve had since I was a kid. Today I woke feeling crazy and a little desperate, for I’ve long believed that how you spend your solar return dictates the tenor of your new year, which meant I was in for an unholy dirge. In desperation, I called my shrink, not an astro-maven by any stretch of the imagination but a wise and kind woman across the board.
“You’re letting it all go,” she said. “Your myths, your old ways of getting through the day. Whatever wool was still in your eyes. Whoever was holding you back.
“This doesn’t mean your 49th year will be terrible,” she went on. “It means you are being shown what can’t hold true in the year to come.”
She was right, of course. In the last few weeks the universe has engineered so many unhappy run-ins and synchronicities that I’ve been forced to release more people and patterns that in any other period of my 40s. All those rough retrogrades of 2018–especially those of Venus and Mars–were building to this very point. And now here I am, devastated by the full breadth of my aloneliness and by the stunted energy I radiate and attract.
I’m feeling it in my stomach like a bad oyster.
Usually I spend my birthday somewhere natural and beautiful–upstate, by the sea–but late checks and inclement weather moored me, and I found myself exactly where I didn’t want to be: in the middle of everyone else with zero plans. Thus my painfully solitary birthday was defined by social media likes rather than messages, memes rather than sentences, texts rather than calls, oblique “what are you doing today?” queries rather than direct invitations. Silence when I least expected it. As if I were a distant cousin in a foreign land. As if I were an acquaintance rather than a true friend. As if I were a book to read rather than a person to hold.
It was a real inculcation of just how little intimacy I have in my life.
Good neighbor K tried to find me off and on that day but I couldn’t respond. I was too unwilling to reveal the shame and sadness lurking beneath my own social media bullshit.
Just one more facade that has to crack.
If you’re feeling implicated in some way–if you’re feeling like you’re PMSing on an atomic level (regardless of biological viability)–ah, what can I say? You’re not alone. With a supermassive blood red wolf moon eclipse, no one is getting off scot-free.
With this aspect, no one can hold their big feelings at bay and everyone howls at the heavens. Salt baths, calming walks and talks, earnest journaling. These are the tickets tonight. But your biggest ally is your truest self. She’s been waiting for you all along.
And if you hear my cry, know that I am simply releasing all that stands between your true self and mine. Send help and hugs. I’ll send them right back.