All moon cycles must come to an end, am I right? Something about this Capricorn full moon has me feeling like I’m writing a graduation speech.
It’s the end of an era, my friends, an era that was maybe only one moon cycle long! Here we are, gathered together under this July Cancerian Sun, fanning our necks and trying to keep the sweat stains to a minimum. We are here to bear witness to what some might call an accomplishment. The accomplishment of pooling our resources, of rigorous and costly self-improvement, of putting every ounce of energy we had into believing in ourselves and using that belief to build a life for ourselves. In many ways, you are already transformed by the work itself and if you are quiet you can hear your courageous heart opening slowly like a small green leaf.
Or... not—or your courageous heart is not like a budding green leaf at all. Perhaps it most resembles the Rose of Jericho, a dried up shriveled thing that, when tended to and very wet, comes back to life (this must sound kind of sexual to you, and I assure you that is at least partially how I intended it). It’s okay if you’re walking around projecting a kind of “I’m dead for now and very parched” vibe. That sounds very goth, very appropriate to this current political moment, and—honestly—a very natural reaction to the rigors of what I am loosely referring to as “our senior year.”
Yes, dark witches, a party is brewing after this commencement speech. Pluto is, in fact conjunct with the moon, so gather ye dark crystals, black sarongs, metallic bikini tops, and meet me on the night beach. We will moon-bathe, dance slowly to Echo and The Bunnymen, and limit feelings-talk to how long it takes a cigarette to burn all the way down.
Limiting feelings-talk is the right thing to do even though it sounds extra hard. That’s because the Sun is in Cancer and Mars is in Cancer and Mercury was JUST in Cancer and is now in Leo so… like… YOU FEEL… and you FEEL like everyone should know how YOU feel because someone convinced you at some point that telling people how you feel really helps them understand you and it’s gonna solve something—who knows what—so, like, just be vulnerable, it’s beautiful, okay?
Capricorn full moon doesn’t have time for this sort of self-eviscerating emotional manipulation. Capricorn full moon knows that this is no time for Pretty in Pink bullshit. It wants you to figure out what needs to be said and keep the rest to yourself. Pretend we’re done “teaching” each other lessons and make this the night you celebrate everything you’ve been doing right.
Let’s accept that whether you’re a green leaf or a Rose of Jericho, whether you’re graduating with honors or you fucked this whole year up, you’ve gained enough wisdom and understanding this moon cycle to last you all summer long and then-some. Let the moonlight guide you in self-reflection. Who were you last year at this time? Have you changed? Have you allowed yourself to accept change in others? Can you see the places where your growth has been directly linked to the lives of others and where your growth has been self-directed/self-restrained? Is the life you are leading now the right shape for the person you have grown into? When the space you’ve held no longer serves, what can you do—knowing what you know now—to create a space that does? I have no further questions and only wish to dance.
Refreshments to follow, served in goblets shaped like skulls.