I love a Moon in Taurus. Cozy vibes and a deep sense of satisfaction. The Moon is exalted in Taurus, which means she’s strong and celebrated. Arriving each year in spring (in the Northern hemisphere), the Taurus New Moon feels like a lush and fertile beginning.
Except this year. This year, the Taurus New Moon lands different. Of course it does.
This year’s Taurus New Moon is intense. Both Sun and Moon are at the end of Taurus, 25º 57.’ This third decan is a place of endings. With Taurus as the Earth sign of green and growing things, we must face limits to growth.
Nothing in the manifest world lasts forever. Healthy ecosystems, though, have cycles: the Sun’s daily cycle, the Moon’s lunar cycle, the round of the year, and longer patterns of water, wind, storms, ocean currents. At this point in history, we can no longer count on those cyclic renewals. Humans have changed things. The changes are not good. We’re not sure we can fix it.
The Moon is out of bounds, outside the limits of the Sun’s orbit. This means the Moon’s not listening to anyone else. She’s off in her own world. pursuing her own goals.
The New Moon is not alone. Mercury, also in late Taurus, is conjunct the New Moon and still under the beams of the Sun after their cazimi a few days ago. Our perceptions, processing, and communication are slow and grounded, linked to the fixed Earth sign.
This New Moon is tightly conjunct the dwarf planet Ceres, the grain goddess. Ceres is the Roman name for Demeter, mother of Persephone and goddess of spring. Each year, Demeter made the Earth grow again, blooming fruit trees and berry bushes, fields of grain, abundance everywhere. She loved this.
Until her daughter was kidnapped and none of her Olympian family would help. She asked. She begged. No one answered. So, she left. She assumed human form. For three years, nothing grew. Finally, Hermes found her and asked what she wanted. She said, “My daughter.”
To me, Ceres represents the fierce maternal. She is warm, benevolent, caring until she is betrayed. Until her child is harmed. After that, all bets are off. Ceres brings a “this far and no farther” vibe to the New Moon.
“Disaster shocks us out of slumber, but only skillful effort keeps us awake.”
― Rebecca Solnit
The New Moon is also conjunct the star Algol, considered in cultures across the world to be the most baleful, dangerous star in the sky. Unpacking exactly how and why Algol is so terrible takes some deep dives.
The fixed stars are different. They’re the backdrop against which the planets, dwarf planets, and asteroids we work with in astrology move. Each night, in the Northern hemisphere, the vault of stars circles Polaris, the North Star. You can tell time by the stars, or sail a ship.
The stars are far far away and very different from us. One principle to keep in mind with the fixed stars is whatever their specific significations, they are implacable and require integrity. If we act well, follow good values, and do the best we can, stars can reward us. If we cheat, try to get something for nothing, or only look out for ourselves, we’re likely to have a different and unpleasant experience.
Sometimes, though, even when we are doing the best we can, fixed stars can flip the table and bring challenges.
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All of this is true for the dread star Algol. Represented by the head of Medusa, the snake-haired Gorgon of Greek myth, Algol is linked astrologically to disasters and catastrophic loss. Perseus beheaded her, ending her life, and then took his trophy to his patroness Athena. She placed Medusa’s head on her own shield, to ward off injury and evil.
Algol signifies both deadly retribution and protection. Sometimes the most powerful protection comes from the most dangerous sources.
Algol’s presence heightens the intensity of this New Moon. The stakes have been raised. We’re put on notice. The cycle we begin now is weighty. Worthy of our focused attention.
There’s an interesting repetition here. Ceres was discovered on January 1, 1801, by Italian astronomer Giuseppe Piazzi at the Palermo Astronomical Observatory in Sicily. At the moment of Ceres’ discovery, she was conjunct Algol, in late Taurus, just as she is at this New Moon.
There’s another pattern in this New Moon chart worthy of our attention. It sets the tone for where we are. Notice that all the personal planets, Jupiter, Ceres, and Chiron, are all at the end of their signs.
Sun, Moon, Ceres, Algol, and Mercury at the end of Taurus. Mars, Chiron, and Eris conjunct at the end of Aries. Venus out of bounds at the end of Gemini. Jupiter at the end of Cancer.
In the world today, we feel many endings underway. We know some are bad. We hope some are good, or will turn out well in the end. We sense we’re in a consequential time. This is a pivot point in our history as a species. We feel and experience this personally.
The outer planets Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, and the Nodes of the Moon are in the beginnings of their signs. They’ve already transitioned. They’re seeing ahead in a way we cannot, not yet. The three outer planets who mark Big Change are ready to start something new. The Nodes of the Moon, markers of fate, of what we desire and reach for, and what we’re done with and letting go, are aligned with the forward-facing outer planets.
It’s like the train’s leaving the station, starting to pick up speed, and we’re looking for our ticket.
Taurus is a grounded, patient, careful place, even when we’re the company of intense planets and stars. This New Moon invites us to look at what we’re carrying. Do we have what we need? Do we have too much? Not enough?
The Things They Carried, a collection of essays and short stories by novelist and Vietnam vet Tim O’Brien presents experiences of Viet Nam war framed by what soldiers carried with them. Some were pragmatic, meaningful, real things like a photograph, letters, a girlfriend’s stockings, ammunition, extra rations, M-16s, M&Ms, tranquilizers. And the soldiers also carried memories, regrets, love, grief, shame, and pain.
The intensity of this New Moon invites us to look at what we carry. What it means to us. What we can set aside. What else we need, so we can move forward.
The New Moon separates from a sextile to Jupiter, who is exalted in Cancer and more than capable of giving generous support. Venus rules all the planets in Taurus from her position at the end of Gemini, where she feels everything intensely, is facing the need to make her own choices, and, like the Moon, is out of bounds. She’s not well placed to bring calm and quiet.
“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.” ― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
The Mars, Chiron, Eris conjunction at the end of Aries is too close to the Moon to aspect it. At the end of Aries, we invited to craft creative solutions to questions of power and agency. Do we have a healthy relationship to power? If not, there’s support here to find out why and see what can be mended. Have we claimed our agency, our capacity to choose and set our course? If not, that, too, can be unpacked and examined.
The New Moon is also in a wide, out-of-sign conjunction with Uranus at 0º Gemini. This is where endings become beginnings, as we choose what to carry forward into a future we can feel coming toward us, but can’t quite see yet.
How this New Moon lands will depend on how it interacts with our birth charts. Some of us embrace change more easily than others. Some will long for familiar comforts. Others are more than ready to move into a brighter future.
Each of us is invited to look at what we carry. What’s important enough to bring forward? What is weighing us down? We can see changes looming. This New Moon wants us to prepare, so we’re ready to help grow the future.
Title image from a photo by Elin Melaas from Unsplash
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