A Full Moon conjunct your Venus can be strange magic. That went quadruply for the Full Moon in Taurus a few days ago as it was also Mercury Retro. It was omen central for so many of us, as this tale attests.
I’m going to write about a wild thing that happened. My relationship with a young Libra man is likely ending. We’ve been together for two years but he’s been pulling away and going dark for months. A lot is his own stuff but some of it is in response to my job, the size and scope of my life in comparison to his. (every man takes issue with it eventually).
This has been hurting me in so many soft spots all over my whole lifetime of relationship karma, and though I’m certain it’s for the best, I’m deeply hurting. It’s been very hard to even perform for the crying I do every day. Mercury in Scorpio has not helped: everything cuts deep. I have no shallows left.
So then came the Taurus Full Moon – exactly on my Venus. Secretly I wanted it to mean the return of the romance between us, instincts say otherwise. So I’m on a brief break from tour, staying in a rural part of Tennessee. It’s cold outside but I was so gripped with sadness I had to do something. I bundled up and walked into a field under the bright moon. There, freezing I sat in prayer and meditation, playing all the big loves I’ve ever had in my life, each face, each man, all the way back to the first, across my memory like a slideshow. I thanked, forgave, wished well and released each person, every face. I guess you could call it a combined gratitude/ loving-kindness meditation.
As I went back in time, I began to feel lighter, giddy even. A smile crept across my face and I realized I was gently rocking back and forth. With the last blue-eyed/dark-haired man thanked and forgiven, (I have a type) wished well and let go, I giggled, my eyes popped open and I sighed “YES” up to the Moon.
At that exact moment, and about a hundred yards away, a wild chorus of coyotes erupted into an ecstatic song. They sang and sang while I laughed and wept. I even tried to howl but could barely make a sound. My friend came out of the house at the racket worried for my safety. Or maybe my sanity? He found me pink-cheeked and crazy laughing.
That night I dreamed I was standing in an unfinished recording studio. I looked up through the holes in the roof, and saw a bright sparkling firebird flying, soaring slowly from right to left across the night sky. I’m still heartbroken and hurting about my love feeling like it’s over, but all of this is a good sign, isn’t it?
Or did I accidentally sell my soul or something?
The Galactic Tourist
When The Full Moon is Conjunct Your Venus And You’re Howling With Coyotes
Sell your soul? No way. It sounds more like you’re negotiating to get it back. I think the Coyotes are an omen of wildness and Trickster Vibe. Have you lost some of your edge trying to reel this man back in? Or minimizing, as you say, the scope of your life?
When it is a Full Moon conjunct your Venus and you’re outside, ignoring the cold to howl along with Coyotes, it’s an omen. It’s time to reclaim what Clarissa Pinkola Estes (Women Who Run With The Wolves) calls the ‘wildish nature.’ A spontaneous montage of all the men you’ve loved before, complete with emotional release, is ultra apt for Mercury Retrograde in Scorpio.
It could also be a subliminal preparation for an impending relationship split. Everyone who has ever been at this stage knows it: that moment where you mentally recategorize the person from “us” into “them.” And then of course you resist and start frantically coming up with ways to keep the whole thing going. But energetically, something shifted.
As for the Firebird and unfinished studio – it’s promising artistic metamorphosis. Venusian energy is not just romance or even beauty. It’s art, performance and emotionally resonating with an audience. Also, the Full Moon was conjunct Vesta, the creative flame. A Firebird is a Phoenix; you know what they do. I dreamt of one at the end of a relationship that I was trying not to admit was done. In the dream, the Firebird/Phoenix was in front of us, dazzling and obviously magic. My soon-to-be-ex said he couldn’t see it and I knew he was lying.
So, said the Phoenix, I’ll give you flying gifts and then he will see you. In the dream, I became fabulously able to fly and was swooping around the place. I was like ‘wow, my god, I am flying! Are you aware of how impossible this is?’ And he shrugged.
Dreams are magic and the Firebird following on from your wilding moment is ultra significant. Why not get back into the studio and do the album about this theme? Coyotes, Venus in Taurus, the Firebird and your theme of “every man” having a problem with you at your most optimal.
What does everyone else think?
Image: Bob Pepper