Full Moon in Aries: Revelations

This month’s Full Moon highlights the contrast between Libra and Aries, which is the push-pull between what I want and what we need, me getting wound up in my own story vs. being able to listen to anyone else.

Aries is about me wanting, deeply wanting, to reach my own goals, live life the way I choose, and run free from anything that would tie me down. Aries is pure physical drive and achievement. Aries is my personal best.

Libra is about me knowing, equally deeply, that I can’t go it alone. I want and need others around me who know me, care about me, support me––and who I know, care about, and support. Libra is the realization we are parts of larger wholes, members of communities. We rise or fall together.

At this Full Moon, we find Sun and Moon in some less-than-favorite places.

The Sun, exalted in Aries, is in fall in Libra. The Sun’s ability to shine forth, directly, commandingly, is compromised here. The Sun travels through lands in which he’s not comfortable, staying with his least favorite relatives and having to make nice.

The Moon rules Cancer, which forms squares to both Aries and Libra. There is only a single accidental dignity for the Moon in Libra: She rules its first face. This Full Moon does not fall in the first face.

We are left with an uneasy sense that neither going boldly off on our own, nor enabling others to shine is quite right. We want a balance and can’t find one.

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Full Moons are oppositions. Sun and Moon are face to face. This can be the face off of sparring partners in the ring. It’s also the way we engage in deep conversation with someone we love. Looking someone in the eye is a good way to connect.

Here the Sun and Moon look not only at each other, but where the other is. The Sun prefers Aries to Libra. The Moon is kind of ‘eh’ about both, preferring the emotional warmth of Cancer. They feel disadvantaged. Not fully capable. Stuck.

Pluto steps into center stage and the balance of power shifts dramatically.

This Full Moon forms a tight square to Pluto, meaning Sun and Moon each square the Lord of the Underworld as they oppose each other.

Pluto is here to break the impasse. He’s going to do it his own way, though, which means something is likely to fall apart.

Pluto is a shadowy figure in astronomy and mythology as well as astrology. Is this a planet? Planetoid? Dwarf planet? Is this a god of death or wealth? Are these linked in some way?

Pluto was unknown until fairly recently, so most of astrology, historically speaking, leaves this planet out. Should we follow tradition or figure out how to work with this energy?

At this Full Moon, questions about Pluto might be illuminated. We all have Pluto somewhere in our chart. We all experience transformation and regeneration. How all that shows up will relate to where Pluto is and what Pluto touches.

So I thought I would share something of my experience with Pluto. This might offer ways to understand and explore this energy, not because yours will be the same as mine, but to suggest options.

My Pluto in late Leo is conjunct my Leo Ascendant. Pluto also conjuncts my Moon at 0 Virgo. The Moon–Pluto conjunction is separating, which suggests it’s less powerful, but doesn’t feel like that to me. Picture someone small and anxious looking over her shoulder at the huge dark shape she’s running from. This is where I started with my Moon–Pluto.

From earliest childhood right up into adulthood, I had regular, intensely dark nightmares that often involved themes of a small me running away from a large something chasing me. I learned several ways to work with these dreams. Beginning to understand the implication of Pluto in my chart was part of that.

I am a shamanic practitioner and have been for twenty years or so. As you might expect, I have journeyed to Pluto, specifically to my Pluto, to develop a relationship with this powerful being. I’d like to share some of what I’ve learned.

A bit of background: The distinction between “Pluto” and “my Pluto” is vital. While I believe Pluto is an archetype and therefore universal, I also know we each experience that archetype in our own way. This is influenced by culture, family background, and personal experience.

Please understand that while there will be overlaps, your experience of Pluto will be your own.

First, my Pluto is nonbinary, so I will now use the pronoun ‘they.’ Pluto is sort of beyond gender, or outside gender. They have appeared to me in journeys variously as an ancient Chinese sage (apparently male), an ancient crone (apparently female), and a huge serpent, so big they cannot be seen all at once.

My Pluto is deeply concerned with the soul. They are not terribly concerned about the body, as such, or conditions of ordinary life. This seems to be why Plutonic transformations can get so messy and painful from our human point of view. It’s not that Pluto wants to cause pain, it’s more they can’t quite see what the fuss is about because these deeper things are so much more important.

Plutonian timelines are very, very long. There is a sense of timelessness here, a kind of being outside time altogether.

They once used temperature as an analogy. Our human world needs a range of temperatures that sustain life, being neither too hot nor too cold. Outside that range, we die. Pluto, in contrast, exists at absolute zero, the place where all particles stop. Absolute zero is completely still, outside any consideration of life or death.

My Pluto will interfere with my human life when, in their view, I am doing something that harms my soul. This isn’t limited to deliberately self destructive behavior. It includes relationships and jobs that are not good for me at the soul level, no matter how advantageous they might seem otherwise.

Times of intense Plutonian review do correspond to significant Pluto transits. Because I have a concentrated chart, though, this has included pretty much my whole life, with a pleasant break in my childhood.

One of astrology’s gifts to me was the chance to see this pattern, be able to anticipate it, and learn the signs of Pluto’s presence. This is definitely a case of being willing to ride the tiger or getting dragged along on its tail.

Riding tigers is exhilarating and frightening, but better than the alternative.

At this Full Moon, we may meet the tiger. This tiger might have things to say about the balance between Aries and Libra and how we find the point that’s right for us.

We will be in an intense time. People we interact with may embody Shadow, triggering us in unexpected ways. Anything we encounter could serve as a catalyst: This is not a time I would choose to see a scary or violent film, for example. Or watch too much news.

Yet hiding from Plutonian illuminations is foolish. What we need to see, we will be shown. If we look away, we are more likely to miss it, misinterpret it, ignore it, or reject it. We will lose a brilliant chance to learn something vital.

At this Full Moon, look toward what feels threatening.

Find a safe vantage point. Standing in the fire is not the best place to see it. So, arrange appropriate protections. Then look deeply, knowing that what shows up for you can lead to wisdom.

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All astrological charts are my own. The images in this post include the title,
adapted from the image of light and shadow by Andrei Lazarev,
and the following images:
color flare by JR Korpa,
circle of light by Jeremy Perkins,
tiger by Ian Robinson