Many years ago, in the middle of an exceptionally busy week when a series of deadlines had worn me down to a nubbin, I dragged myself to a client’s office to do some bookkeeping. Bookkeeping is such precise, Virgo work that I enjoy doing it now and then, though only for myself these days; it’s a bit like working a crossword puzzle. In an uncertain world, there’s something comforting about getting numbers to line up right.
But everything went wrong on this particular morning, as it often does when you’re feeling rushed and overextended. I was buzzing with tension; my attention wandered, and I kept making foolish mistakes. In the end I made a catastrophic blunder in the checking account reconciliation, blurted a frustrated profanity, and nearly burst into tears.
This client had known me for many years; he was no stranger to my moods. So as I sat there with blurry eyes, apologizing profusely for my mistake, he just came over and stood by my desk. “You need a break,” he said, kindly. “If you keep pushing yourself so hard, you’re either going to become a very angry person, or just a very…” He struggled for a word. “A very stiff one.”
During Virgo’s season, the world of work beckons with such allure that before we know it, things can get out of hand. Suddenly our calendars are packed far too full and we are wound far too tightly. We look at the world and see only its imperfections, an endless Dead Sea Scroll of tasks that need Virgo’s capable hands to sort it all out and its methodical brain to analyze the root causes of the problems.
But when you begin to look at the world as a problem to be solved, you may forget that it’s also an enchanting mystery that defies both logical explanation and our best efforts to keep it tidied up. Fortunately, the world does its best to remind us, delivering shape-shifting numbers that stubbornly refuse to be wrangled, or trickster hard drive malfunctions. When we’re too entrenched in Virgo’s linear mindset, even our keen minds begin to rebel, refusing to stay focused. When we overdose on Virgo, our wise spirits instinctively reach out for a gentle antidote of music, beauty, and daydreams – all of which can be found in its opposite sign of Pisces, the sign of this Full Moon.
The world seems especially chaotic just now, with overwhelming natural disasters and the depressing morass of governmental gridlock. Like an old house fallen into disrepair, so much of our world needs fixing – and Virgo loves the challenge of a renovation. But even Virgo becomes overwhelmed in the face of so many tasks; and since much of the world seems beyond our control, we may overcompensate by overdoing it with the more human-scale tasks in front of us, taking on more than we can conceivably tackle.
But at this Full Moon in Pisces, conjunct empathetic Pisces, remember that trying to do too much to save the world, without taking time to remember why it’s worth saving, is a recipe for anger and brittleness. Pisces grasps that entropy is the natural condition of the universe; that without constant maintenance by mankind, the world would take care of itself quite nicely, thank you. In his book, The World Without Us, Alan Weisman hypothesizes that within about 20 years of humans disappearing from the earth, New York City would already be in a state of advanced decay. Whether you consider that a scary thought or an intriguing one probably depends on how comfortable you are with a Pisces view of the world.
“There is so much work to be done!” Virgo insists, and it’s true enough. But at the Pisces Full Moon, we’re also reminded that “dust we are, and to dust we shall return.” Virgo, who holds strong opinions about dust, shudders at the very idea. But our wise Pisces natures shrug in cheerful acceptance of life’s inherent messiness, the missed deadlines, the world in disarray, and the house that needs dusting. At this Full Moon, take your cues from your heart, and relax a little. Sneak away for lunch with a friend, or take in a movie. The world will keep turning even if you take your eye off of it for a minute or two—and even if your checking account doesn’t balance.
Writing and images © 2007-2021 by April Elliott Kent
More about this week’s planetary highlights – and our second annual PODATHON! – in our latest podcast episode!