Admiring the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanical Garden is an old NYC pastime that brings everyone out of their apartments and into the fields marveling at the fleeting pink beauties. Yet all I could think about were my allergies, broken sunglasses, and the one too many layers I wore on this otherwise picturesque outing. It took me almost an hour before I could finally be still. While spring has most definitely sprung and we’ve entered the Venusian season of Taurus, I’m feeling less sensual seduction vibes and more like a bull in a china shop. A New Moon in Taurus approaches us on Wednesday, April 26th at 8:16am EST. My initial thoughts were action-oriented and excitedly I wrote down one too many intentions: “I will use this energy to find a new day job, finish writing a screenplay, lose 10 pounds and why not organize my shoe closet.” While Taurus energy can be deeply productive, its attitude is slow and steady wins the race.
Like most New Yorkers, my work-life balance encompasses many places and faces. The common threads involve the art of witchcraft, social work, and performance, when lucky. Having spent much of my adult life championing witchcraft as a healing path, it can throw a witch off her broomstick when she becomes less than enchanted with the tools she’s come to rely upon for divine guidance. As we enter Taurus I find myself feeling totally lost about what projects to pursue and which ones to leave behind. Like a little kid yelling, “Are we there yet?” I want the answers and I want them now. What does a witch do when the signs seem vague, the astrological forecast is cloudy, and at the end of the day the common denominator is you? The wise words of my friend and astrologer, T.C. Eisele pop into my mind: “get comfortable with being uncomfortable.”
Taurus can sometimes be the sign of what I like to call “stagnation nation.” Taurus craves security and material status because it suggests that they have it all together — the empire is impenetrable and therefore safe from any unknown variable. How do you know when it’s time to change ships and set off towards a new horizon? Are you selling yourself short by staying in a certain rut because it’s comfortable and easy with no surprises? Aries enjoys sport, yet Taurus enjoys the fruits of hard labor. Once a Taurus gets in their working groove, they are utterly reliable, trustworthy, and single-minded in their approach to getting the job done. When they go in, they go ALL in. Because they are Venus manifested in an earthy fashion, unlike airy counterpart Libra, Taureans are a tactile bunch who enjoy working hard in order to play hard, reveling in good food, wine, and sex.
One of the lessons of Taurus is in their stubborn resistance to change and their cautious approach to the big decisions we all face in life. I get this, now more than ever. Maybe it’s because I have a Moon in Capricorn, so I innately understand the need for security. Or maybe it’s because I’m a grown-ass, grown-up woman now with responsibilities. I operate in a world where I believe in the possibilities of magic but am practical with my application of it and see the danger of illusionary thinking. There are times when magic shouldn’t be used, and will not solve your problem no matter how many candles you light. No amount of chanting mantras will stop schizophrenia, pay your bills, or break up your relationship for you. Magic is energy and you are the conduit. The systems of divination are revelatory and magic always happens when you’re firing on all cylinders. But sometimes, when your magic seems to have run out, the lesson is all about “sitting in the vacuum of self.”
Pain, disillusionment and change are teachers, and as stern and baffling as the lessons may be, they are all necessary parts of our spiritual journey. In many ways I recognize that I am living many of my dreams; married life is oh so sweet, I have a tight-knit group of friends and I get to pursue many of my life’s passions. With Taurus time, instead of relaxing among the blossoms, I’m not feeling myself and have been pining over others with their successful lives and bank accounts, something I hate to admit. What have I done wrong, why can’t I save money, why don’t I feel confident like some of my peers? The questions kept coming and finally one of the lessons stuck. Perhaps the challenge is to stop thinking, continue working and let the earth energy stabilize my frantic nerves. I thought of Nina Simone singing “Ain’t Got No-I Got Life,” and immediately remembered what I do have, my smile, my freedom, my limbs, my boobs and most importantly my life. I may not have figured out the next step but with this New Moon I’m going to be in my body and celebrate every sensual delight it can offer, blessing and thanking the earth for letting me walk among its many blossoms.