Last month I wrote about the my experience of the solar eclipse of April 8, and in this article I want to delve into the degree symbolism of that eclipse cycle. I begin with the assumption—which I picked up from Monique Leurink, though I don’t know the origin or reasoning behind it—that lunar eclipses are about endings and solar eclipses about new beginnings. The penumbral lunar eclipse on March 25 happened when the Moon was in Libra 6. This felt like a very resonant degree for me. The Omega symbol is “On a long voyage, many icebergs encountered,” which speaks directly to the countless problems that presented themselves in our effort to rebuild our storm-damaged house. It truly was a case study in Murphy’s Law!
The Pleiadian symbol, “A wandering landscape searching for a canvas on which to dwell,” hits more poignantly upon the inner longing for home, which is quite obviously the deeper internal significance of the external odyssey. One way to tell the story of my life is of someone who’s been roaming this planet since childhood, looking for a place to take root, unfold, and come to full expression. Soon after we were evacuated from the storm, a part of me suspected that I would not be able to return to the house until I was able to create that sense of home within myself.
That the lunar eclipse promised to bring an end to the less enjoyable aspects of our epic journey seemed hopeful. Yet the degree symbol from the Sabian set gave me great pause: “A man watches his ideals taking a concrete form.” For the last few months it had been dawning on my husband and me that we were probably never going to live in our old house ever again. If we had any lingering illusions about a last-minute turn of events, the lunar eclipse would sweep those away definitively.
On the day of the lunar eclipse, the insurance company finally paid out our claim after 32 months of us making our case, over and over, of why we were entitled to such aid. We could finally end that grueling chapter. John gives two titles to the Libra 6 degree: The Ability to Navigate Around Obstructions and Danger, or Primal Eagerness to Feed the Soul. I took that to suggest that the eclipse would relieve all our insurance and construction drama, but it would also end all the old ways of bringing our dreams into manifestation. Those ways and/or visions no longer nourished our souls.
For new ways of dreaming, I looked to Aries 20, the degree of the April 8 solar eclipse. This is a degree that’s been resonating with me for over a year now. Although it isn’t technically in my birth chart in any overt way, it is spitting distance to a cluster of planets and points by my MC in Aries 19. For some reason, the Chandra symbol of “An empty courtyard” haunts me.
At first this image spoke to me of getting away from the busyness of life, and the empty courtyard felt like the ruins of various sacred sites I have visited at dawn, in the absence of crowds. As the solar eclipse neared, my husband and I entertained the notion of driving somewhere remote so we could experience the eclipse under “pure” conditions. But traffic was terrible that day, so we decided to stay put in Montreal. They were expecting crowds of around 100,000 at Parc Jean-Drapeau for an eclipse festival, yet our neighborhood park was only sparsely populated when we got there an hour before totality.
Since I purposely turned inward in silence, initially I had little awareness of everyone around me. But to my great surprise, the crowd became an integral part of my eclipse experience. As I mentioned in my last piece, I was completely overcome by the sight of totality. Yet when people started clapping and laughing, it immediately shifted my energy from shock into childlike wonder. Such a joyful heart opening made it easier to take in the eclipse. I had been feeling like such a small creature in the face of unspeakable majesty, but when applause broke out my heart connected to everyone in fellowship. For a moment we were no longer an anonymous city crowd awaiting a spectacle, but an ancient tribe gathered for a sacred event in a jungle clearing. Here was the courtyard fully inhabited.
That feeling of community was as fleeting as the eclipse. The moon continued on her path and folks dispersed. I continued to key into the eclipse energy while the city’s ambience shifted from sacred to profane. To Aries 20 John gives the title Relentless Proceeding into New Possibilities. I’m taking that as marching orders. Our move to Montreal was as sudden and unplanned. I continue to take things day by day, putting one foot in front of another without knowing where I’m headed.
Ellias Lonsdale assigns the keyword furthest extension to the twentieth degree of every sign. Lately I feel like I have to take the process that kicked off that fateful day of July 7, 2021 and take it all the way through. The theme is clearly coming home to myself. I recently made a list of all the places I’ve ever lived in, and it tallies up to 29 different addresses. Since being displaced by the storm and beyond three emergency hotel stays, we’ve been in six different rentals—all of those moves spurred by the strangest of reasons.
Some days I am utterly exhausted by all this moving. But with Uranus and my NN in the 4H, I am choosing to see this as a life theme that is helping me find more of myself with every upheaval. Of course, my Taurus Sun and Cancer Moon can’t stand the feeling of rootlessness, of not feeling like I belong to any place on this beautiful planet. In my darkest moments I wondered if I’ve already done enough internal work to call it a good enough life. But here is an alternative thought: Maybe this is the lifetime that I can heal this pattern of displacement and find my place to flourish.
Toward the end of April my husband and I started talking about how exciting it would be to create a new garden from scratch in a new location. We took that inspiration to create a container garden on our patio—a mobile garden for mobile times. I track the sun and move our plants around all day, and it is seemingly modest pleasure that is felt in the depths of my soul. Just a few days ago we listed our house and found enthusiastic buyers in less than a week. With a stellium of planets currently transiting my eleventh house, I am getting more of a sense of the future that is flowing toward me.
The degree symbols have certainly helped me prepare for the eclipses and integrate their energies in the aftermath. I’m curious to hear if they’ve done the same for you.
Ysette
June 1, 2024
What a rich experience you have taken us through. My son is a triple Taurean, change is not in his vocabulary. When you expressed this, "Soon after we were evacuated from the storm, a part of me suspected that I would not be able to return to the house until I was able to create that sense of home within myself." that hit as one of the evolutionary themes for Taurus is rooting, finding home within Self. Venus: My Body is My Temple. We are moving state this summer, and my son is having to learn this theme. In Earth astrology Taurus is part of the Turtle Clan. Funny as well Steven Forrest equates Cancer more with the Turtle than the Crab(maybe not more, but he now uses both). As we know, the Turtle carries her home wherever she goes further solidifying this theme of My Body is My Temple(home) i.e. Home is Where the Heart Is. Again, thank you for this exploration of the degree symbols and how they have played out in your life. Strong awareness<3