Enough About You Already

10.17.05


Today's lunar eclipse full moon in Aries serves as 'the other half' to the Libran solar eclipse of two weeks ago, complementing its call for partner-minded practices with a 'me-first' thirst for self-centered freedom.

Remember: These eclipse thingies always come in sets of twos (or sometimes even threes), stretching the exaggerated-and-accelerated weirdness in the air out over an entire monthly lunar cycle.

I usually consider the solar eclipses, which always occur on new moons, to be the more significant influence, as they plant seeds for whatever featured themes or episodes will sprout and bloom over the coming six months or so. Lunar eclipses, on the other hand, simply intensify the emotional escalations we already associate with full moons, bestowing an extra-epiphanic charge to whatever gets exposed by their light—if we opt to brave the promise of a revelation's repercussions, rather than bask in sullen blindness.

In this current case, the Aries lunar eclipse invites the blowing-off of our individualizing steam… that which built up as a result of our both being (1) stymied by the aggravation of Mars retrograde's seemingly static and slothful slow-going and (2) susceptible to the conciliatory-to-a-fault cooperativeness of the Libran eclipse's sway. Aries advocates the flipping of lids, the saying of what we really think regardless of what they want to hear. We need to let go and (sorry!) not care.

The eclipsed Aries moon forms a snowballing trine to down-and-dirty Pluto, adding full-force gusto to our potentially explosive emotional exhalations. If we're not careful, we'll blow the whole house down with that one-more-comment, which lands smack in their weakspot and knocks 'em to the ground. We can let off a whole lot of steam, but unintentionally—or, worse, intentionally—inflict pain in the process, if we forget that the ultimate goal is curative reparation.

The Aries eclipse speaks for itself:

I'm growing a little sick and tired of doing everything for everyone else. Where's the 'me' time? When do I get to call all my own shots, instead of running them by you first for revision and approval, just to make sure it all feels okay for you? Screw you and your different way of looking at the sky, your delicate constitution and sour stomach, your dislike of too-loud music or too-direct questions or too-much anything too much fun!

Haven't I done enough to deserve my break today? Haven't I played along and held my temper-tantrum tongue, while we meandered into foreign territory and tentatively tried out new routines with safeguard smiles? I've been good, admit it. I've made quite a show of agreeing, fighting my fight-or-flight instincts to stay in formation and follow your fox-trot steps. I've got rhythm, I do. Tell me I've surprised you with being amenable to your methods and your madness, with nary a peep of discord. How much more can I take? I respect you and all… but still!

If I snap or snarl or snag my teeth on your skin, I'm sure I'll ask for forgiveness later, once I've taken back my reins and blatantly ignored your needs because don't I have needs too?!?!… but I won't be sorry for doing what I did. I meant to do it. Can you live with me and my self-absorbed independence? No? Well, too damn bad!