Ok, I’m not a football fan. But given how recent the Super Bowl was — and all the brilliant cultural analysis I am seeing online of Kendrick Lamar’s halftime show (which I still need to watch) — this seems like an apt metaphor for today’s Full Moon (exact at 8:53 am today):
You know those big, dish-shaped microphones they have on the sidelines of football fields? The ones that let us hear what the refs are saying? They’re called parabolic microphones. Looking like handheld satellite dishes with a microphone in the middle, they basically function the same way: they’re able to collect and focus sounds from significant distance in one direction (along the axis of the dish). That’s why you can hear what the ref is saying but all the other noises in the stadium are not being picked up to the same degree.
However, the quality of the resulting sound — its fidelity — is not great compared to some other types of microphones. You’ll never catch Lamar using a parabolic mic to perform a concert.
You might think of this Full Moon in Leo as functioning similarly to a parabolic mic. Astronomically, the Moon is on one side of the Earth, reflecting back the Sun’s light from the other side of the Earth. Astrologically, it’s like the Moon is picking up the “voices” from the solar system objects directly across the zodiac from it.
In this case, that would be the Sun, along with the asteroid Ceres and planet Mercury, in Aquarius. They’re clustered together closely enough to be whispering (or maybe shouting?) their combined messages to the Moon.
The Moon, in its symbolic function related to our emotions and subconscious, is reflecting these messages back to us. But since the Moon is acting as a reflector and amplifier, we may lose some of the message’s fidelity: it’s coming through our less-conscious emotions. Or you might be “hearing” the Sun-Mercury-Ceres message through the emotions and reactions of someone you’re interacting with.
So what exactly is that message?
The Sun represents our consciousness, our vital life force, and healthy ego. Ceres generally represents some form of nourishment or nurturing (though she famously let the Earth’s vegetation die after her daughter Proserpina was abducted to the underworld, until a deal was brokered to return Proserpina to her mother half of each year). Mercury relates to how we think and communicate. Aquarius describes both “all of us here” and “the few excluding the many”; it’s the breaking up of old forms and the insistence that new forms be solidified in their place. Everything in astrology has its positive and negative manifestations.
Aquarius can represent our highest humanitarian ideals. It can also be a “my way or the highway, for the whole world” tyranny (thanks to astrologer Robert Hand for that phrase for Aquarius). It’s both the way technology can level the playing field and the tyranny of that same tech.
Notice who you are pointing your inner parabolic microphone toward. Which kind of Aquarian message are you picking up and amplifying, and why? Which kind of Aquarian message are you focused on for the purpose of standing in contrast to it? Full Moons often symbolize confrontation, and ask that we work with each side of the equation separately, rather than blending them.
Some have locked on to a message of exclusion, elitism, ideas that prioritize technology over people, or a “let everyone else starve until I get what I want” attitude. That’s what they’re amplifying through Leo’s “shadow side” of willfulness.
Others have aligned their sensitivities with those consciously looking to nourish hearts and minds, so that all may work together for the good of all beings. They’re amplifying this through Leo’s life-giving vitality and integrity.
Consider the Moon in the sign Leo. How are you reflecting back what you’re picking up? Is it being filtered and refined through a heart full of compassion and courage, in service to sustaining those around you? Or is it being refracted and dramatized through pride and arrogance, used to scorch anyone in the way?
With the Moon also representing the “inner child,” and the sign Leo related to both kings and children, I also see a disturbingly appropriate image of the childish POTUS trying to wield power like a king. In Aquarius, I see all of us who are striving to nourish the best interests of the collective with humanitarian ideas and our vital life force in action — using technology to connect in solidarity, working to create the new, inclusive community structures.
Astrologer Isabel Hickey wrote that, “In an age where Kings are a thing of the past Leos need the realization that the royalty of the Aquarian age will be the spiritual aristocrats who function through the heart and soul in real simplicity. What is simplicity but going to the heart of things and seeing things whole?”
If only it were that simple! But the thrashing of late-stage capitalism/patriarchy in its death throes has become quite violent. And a square to the Leo Full Moon configuration by Uranus in Taurus is increasing its wattage. On a collective level, it seems to describe the shocks currently being experienced by the body politic. They’re disrupting our sense of shared values and what we once thought we all “owned” together, and pushing us into action.
On a more personal level, Uranus here may describe the sudden realization that an interpersonal stalemate could be resolved simply by breaking from habitual responses. It might be a sharp awakening to your deepest values, and awareness of how a seemingly “either/or” situation has been obscuring a third option — one that could lead to resolution.
Uranus might also represent a disruption that creates significant tension if you don’t feel able to integrate it. With Taurus involved, Uranus is a reminder to listen to your body, especially if it speaks up sharply.
Full Moons can be stressful. Not always, but often enough to warrant a reminder to listen to your heart in addition to your head today. The more you can get them aligned, the better this cosmic parabolic microphone can amplify a message that’s clear in its service to the highest good of all.
With love,
Amanda
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