Hello Dear Readers,
The language of the sky is everchanging and with it, we shift and travel. Right now, our solar system’s heart and consciousness (the sun! the sun!) has newly entered the sign of Scorpio….
The scorpion is steady. Have you ever seen one in that poised arched position just before the sting? Scorpio is a fixed water sign. Immovable, swampy, deep, and constant. The underworld is never not there. We’ve all heard the myths and the stories of Hades. When I say “underworld” I mean: what we don’t want to look at, what’s tough and not-so-pretty, what’s still and secretive, what’s swampy and delphic. Some of us have taken a dip. Others of us have lived there. When we open our eyes in ancient still waters, vision gets obscured and so too our consciousness shifts to accommodate this new watery grammar. A new language-enviro with new terms and mind-bending degrees and decrees.
Enter Scorpio season and the apparatus of the life-death-rebirth cycle at its most underground. It is difficult to find words for this lifeblood mechanism; simultaneously, it’s what everything is made of — the digestive essence of the trippy mind-body-spirit experience. Also: Life on earth. Also: Poetry. Also: The ride is a roller coaster and a ferris wheel. We know Scorpio because we feel it in our guts, metabolic and primal. It’s the space before birth and after death.
“Fear of death” is foundational to living things. And so we associate the archetypically Scorpionic with ideas like death, rebirth, transformation, possession, attachment, seduction, mystery, darkness…. Yeah. And it’s also the post-judgment space. Virgo sorts, Libra weighs everything out, Scorpio goes down. Down. Down to the depths where the really ancient churnings churn. Those neon creatures at the bottom of the ocean where humans cannot go. A reminder of the many edges of our psyches and earth that we haven’t traversed and must indeed enter the periphery of consciousness in order to drop into. To change forms.
Here, there’s subterranean quietude. There is loss. There is sorrow. There is fear of the future. There is a delicious and terrifying limbo. And also: serious possibility for growth. Pluto is the modern ruler of Scorpio and also the lord of darkness. Weirdly, Pluto wants us to transform. He doesn’t want us to stay forever in the dark. But let us look to the original ruler of Scorpio….
MARS // Mars vitalizes the sign a determination, power, possessiveness, and a warrior-esque quality. The Scorpionic holds space for a veritable karmic oomph. Vitality: when we look at our own blood, sweat, and tears we’re reminded not only of death but of death’s opposite. BIRTH or LIFE. We are alive. The polarity axis of Scorpio-Taurus is a constant conversation between Mars-Venus, love-war, the world-underworld, light-darkness. Lots more to say about the Scorpio archetype and energies in the coming weeks….
SCORPIO SEASON POEM-SCOPES
The Mamas and the Papas sing the darkest hour is just before dawn into your Scorpio season. Your vitality is in the underworld, which is a strange kind of sexy. Love and war both require incandescence. For now, gather the materials you’re finding in the dimly lit basement with love.
You feel as if you might disappear. Even the sun goes invisible sometimes. Before you mourn, know that you’re likely merging with something otherworldly and foreign but which also feels strangely like…home. There is no sunrise without sunset and your Taurean sun is setting, which is its own kind of polychromatic beauty.
The tumultuous energy with which Lucinda Williams wailed, I’ve been tryyyying to enjoy all the fruits of my labor sums up your soul’s journey through the season of the Scorpion. You’re tryyyyying. Suffer with awareness and fluency so that you might emerge with your fruits: ART. RELIEF. GRACE. EXHALES.
“You can declare yourself an artist and then figure out how to be an artist,” said Kara Walker. The space of the making is mysterious and everchanging and you’re super tapped in at the moment, wielding your creative tools with dexterity. It’s okay to make a total mess. It’s actually necessary for the theater of making.
You feel the pull of your roots at the most primal place. The bottom of the sky, the bottom of the earth, your childhood home, those humans who feel most primary to you. “If you know from whence you came,” said James Baldwin, “there are absolutely no limitations to where you can go.”
It’s tempting to get wrapped up in information because it, as Baudrillard says, “gives us answers to questions we have not asked.” Questions and curiosities will point the way toward whatever 411 you’re after. Dwell in the uncertainty of the irresolute. Then dwell some more. Let the mind wander, communing with its immediate environment with open wonder.
Value, worth, dignity, justices and injustices, the weight of the soul, the weight of $$, the weight of the poetics of your internal ramblings. Meet your own inherent value with the worshipful respect you meet the value of others. It’s perfect and just to be of the earth, to find stillness in its orbit.
It’s like you’ve just burst onto the scene — that delicious whisper: oh here I am. The stillness apparatus is your metabolic rhythm and so you’re used to this kind of communication without words. The body never ever lies. What do you lean into? What do you lean away from? Listen your bod and find your esoteric essence as you rise, again, into yourself.
All of the human atrocities. All of the edges of the world. All of the hidden things edged out by what we call society. All of the outsider art. All of the outsiders. All of the secrets and unnameable spaces and feelings. BRING LIGHT TO THEM so that you may shine your capacious light into the eyes of those who have not known exhilaration in some time. Maybe your own eyes need this effulgence, too.
Revel in the company of others not for professional networking purposes nor for building your brand nor for a sense of duty or obligation. Revel in the company of others because when we listen to the stories of others, when we love them for their differences and hardships, we become more human. Revel, revel. Eye contact, friendships, fun. Fun? FUN.
You’re at the top. Meaning: You can look around and see what spaces need action, what karmic happenings require your cool Aquarian attention and humanity-forward mind and likely your calls will be heeded so do call wisely. When Patti Smith said, Nothing will stifle your human evolution more than fame and fortune you were like, yeah duh.
You’re inclined to take off. Like, to go far away into the recesses of your mind and keep zooming out until the world is but a blue dot. Life in the material realm is its own kind of trippy — no one knows this more than you and so “NO ONE BELONGS HERE MORE THAN YOU” (Miranda July). Translation: Carry ye wisdom to us earthlings.
Thanks for reading, dear ones!! And happy Scorpio season. Please write to me with any questions or concerns. Podcast coming soon on the Scorpionic. Visit here for sessions or subscribe for more frequent cosmic updates and/or to support this work.
Francis Bacon, Figure Study I, 1945-46
Remedios Varo, Toward the Tower.
Remedios Varo, The Encounter, 1959.
Frida Kahlo, Without Hope, 1945.
Mesopotamian Depiction: The Descent of Ishtar into the Underworld.