once in a blue (capricorn) moon

do you remember what came up for you January 20th? ⌇ 🌕

Jul 20, 2024

∙ Paid

And just like that, the moon slips into Capricorn—and we are back for Round 2.

As I sit here typing, on the precipice of everything and nothing, I feel full to bursting. Full of everything. The grief of endings, and the inexplicable joy of new beginnings.

How has Cancer season been for you, my friends? Cancer season is always a lot for me. When I look back on my photo albums, July in particular seems to mark a season of loss—grandparents passing away. Each year, the foundation of my ancestry gets rockier. I am standing on loose rubble. I fear the day it might give way.

Last night, I was sitting on the balcony, having a late night conversation with a friend — one of Life’s small luxuries. As we sat and talked, the jumbled ball of my emotions smoothened out. Yarn, unfurling. I noticed a common thread (heh) between all that was weighing on my heart:

It is time for me to take responsibility.

Enter, the second Capricorn Full Moon. 🌕

“I am so frustrated by my upcoming dance performance,” I tell my friend. He understands — he’s a performance veteran, with nearly four under his belt.

“No one wants to take charge! The performance is tomorrow, and costumes aren’t even finalized. We haven’t even done a full dress rehearsal!”

“It sounds like there’s something deeper to your frustration,” he observes.

(I have a love-hate relationship with my coach friends. Nothing gets by them.)

“Yes! Because it’s UNFAIR!!!” I nearly yell. I flush, embarrassed. It’s past midnight and I don’t want to scare his neighbors.

“When was the first time you felt that way?” he probes, gently.

A memory rises to the surface. Me, age 13, too young to know any better but older than all my cousins, unwittingly thrown into the role of leader. Bearing the brunt of the adults’ wrath when playtime goes awry. I have filled pages and pages of my diary with the injustice of it all.

In Chinese culture, being the eldest is seen as a privilege and a duty. But I have borne all of the latter and none of the former.

What does it mean to be seen as a leader, now?

That is what I am being called to contemplate under this Capricorn full moon.

Some quick Astro facts about this Full Moon:

It is at 29º Capricorn, an anaretic degree.
It is conjunct Pluto, at 0º Aquarius.
Pluto has been sashaying back and forth at 29º since 2023.

Let’s break it down.

The space between 29º Capricorn and 0º Aquarius has felt charged with energy since January this year. That is because on January 20, Sun and Pluto shared a steamy kiss at 29º … before holding hands and stepping forth into Aquarius together.

The entire experience Pluto has had in Aquarius this year has been colored by his time with the Sun. When a planet passes through the Sun, we call it a cazimi. It is a rebirth, purified by the solar rays, a brand new cycle.

Pluto is beginning a new 20 year cycle in Aquarius, but later this year, he returns to Capricorn for some unfinished business at — you guessed it — 29 degrees.

So having the Full Moon in Capricorn here, at this karmic degree, for the second time in a season… it’s pretty weighty.

I speak more to this in my Astrology of 2024 series, here and here 💥

What does this mean for us?

💭 Think back to January 20th, 2024. What was coming up for you then? Was there a purging, a letting go, that was happening for you? Pluto is the planet of transformation and regeneration — and sometimes that comes with a little destruction, too.

You might notice similar themes coming up again at this Full Moon.

Back to my story about unfairness…

Sun is our identity. 🌞 Pluto represents power. 💥

I have pushed away the identity of a leader for a very long time.

But under this second Full Moon in Capricorn, I am rethinking my relationship to power and responsibility.

I’ve spent a very long time running away from being seen as a leader, because of the consequences I experienced as a child. All of the blame with none of the glory. Carrying it like a weight on my back, instead of a medal on my chest.

True leadership, I realize, is none of those things.

It is a quiet whisper. A deep intuition.

A desire to act, and the integrity to see it through.

Leadership is love in action. And that, I know in my bones, I can do.

Instead of assigning a story to it, I learn to take on the role of leading this performance as I do everything else in my life — lovingly, with presence.

When they ask me to be the comedic opener, I smile.

When they ask me to lead the closing bow, I concur.

It still feels so scary to step into this role. Chosen leadership. People want me to lead. Not because I’m oldest or seem the most responsible, but because I’m me. The thought is both exciting and terrifying all at once.

How I do anything is how I do everything, as I wrote in June.

I know that this dance performance is simply a microcosm of bigger lessons at play.

There is huge drama unfolding in my family now, with my grandma’s impending passing looming over us all. The relational fissures are starting to show. In the past I would have just walked away from it all. Shoved it in a box and said, “not my problem.”

But on that balcony, the night air caressing my face, my friend asked me if I planned to do anything about it.

And to my surprise, a tiny voice inside me whispered, yes.

gwenific