There's a movie that, for me, elegantly sums up the Scorpio/Taurus
struggle to transcend difficulties while continuing to live fully. Fearless
tells the story of Max, a man who survives a horrific plane crash. His survival
has convinced him that he's immortal and this belief has made him utterly (and
dangerously) fearless. He does seem almost supernatural - for instance,
his life-long and deadly allergy to strawberries seems to have miraculously disappeared
since the accident. But he's also become harsh, utterly intolerant of dishonesty,
and frighteningly blunt. Having come so close to death, he's shattered - and
he can only seem to connect emotionally with people who are in great pain.
He seems cold to his own wife and son, yet shows remarkable tenderness to a fellow
survivor who lost her baby in the crash.
Gradually, both the shock and his
sense of immortality begin to wear off. With his help, the crash survivor with
whom Max has formed an attachment finally overcomes the worst of her grief, returns
to her life, and urges Max to do the same. As the film reaches its conclusion,
Max has decided to rejoin his life and reconnect emotionally with his family -
but he's still not sure he can find his way back. He tests the waters of mortality
by indulging in a fat, tempting strawberry - and promptly falls into anaphylactic
shock. His wife manages to save him, and his final line, gasped through ecstatic,
sobbing laughter, is "I'm alive."
Living through traumatic
events can make us as harsh, unforgiving, and angry as Max. These traits can be
Scorpio's shadow side, natural reactions to constant exposure to hard truths,
mortality, and lessons about the limits of personal power. The work of Scorpio
is transcendence - but sometimes, in the process of facing and overcoming
fear and weakness, we lose track of the simple human connections, joys, and frailties
that tether us to life on earth. In other words, the Taurus experience.
Each
year while the Sun moves through Scorpio, the scene is set for facing fearsome
realities and possibilities that we'd rather avoid. The days are short and the
shadows long, the trees are losing their leaves, and melancholy easily gains a
toe-hold. But at the Full Moon in Taurus, life regains some of its flavor and
color. We are reminded of life's blessings, not just its perils. We find ourselves
opening a window to simple, happy pleasures, letting go of obsessive angst and
allowing the world to simply be what it is. We are alive.
The Sabian
Symbol for this Full Moon at 11 Taurus is, "A woman sprinkling long
rows of flowers." Nurturing and caring for living things, an unshakable,
unshockable stability in the face of life's challenges, are Taurus' birthright.
The Taurus souls among us help us accept the world as it is and to commit to being
part of it - to celebrate experiences and knowledge that can only be gained through
being embodied. Transcendence is all well and good, Taurus might say, but you
still have to get food on the table and make sure everyone has clean socks for
the next day.
When we were first getting to know one another, many years
ago, I showed a Taurus friend a flash of my legendary crankiness. She looked at
me and calmly said, "I'm not afraid of you." Taurus is as fearless
as Scorpio, but in a subtly different way. Scorpio sees everything - including
things that aren't visible to the naked eye - and fears nothing. Taurus' vision
is confined to what is before her - and unless you're being chased by a saber
toothed tiger or a tsunami, there is rarely anything in the present moment that's
worth being afraid of. (Imperious Leo divas don't count!)That's a comforting
attitude, one that, whenever I encounter it in someone, immediately makes me feel
as though life is a lot more manageable.
Recently I watched an episode of
Frontline
that profiled patrons of a hair salon in New York City, all of whom had lost jobs,
businesses, homes, and retirement savings in the past year. These are people who
have had all sense of normalcy and security ripped out from under them. The owner
of the salon is exactly the sort of sensible Taurus type who, for an hour or so
every few weeks, provides these lost souls with comfort, continuity, and the sense
that everything will somehow work out. I could understand why they kept making
appointments with her, even though for many it meant charging her fee on their
credit card. She was providing something much more than a haircut, and much less
expensive than therapy.
The chart for this Full Moon has its share of challenges.
The Scorpio Sun and Taurus Moon are in a t-square to Mars, reflecting the
grim struggle of many who feel they are fighting for their lives. Saturn,
the ruler of reality checks, has entered a new sign - Libra, in which he is particularly
strong - and is approaching a square to Pluto, the opening salvo in 2010's
critical cardinal t-square. No, we are not out of the woods yet.
But
the Moon's ruler, Venus, is exactly trine Neptune; and at this Full Moon
in Taurus there are opportunities for inspiration and joyful release, for community
through music, art, and fellowship. So set your harvest table for dear friends
and family, share simple food and drink, and laugh together - because where
there is laughter, fear is impossible. The Full Moon in Taurus invites us
to get out of our heads and to commit to being and living in the moment; to enjoy
everything we have - and maybe to wash a load of laundry.
