It’s that time of year again. On April 30, 2022’s eclipse season begins in earnest with a new moon partial solar eclipse in Taurus, followed by a total lunar eclipse in Scorpio on May 16. Taurus commands individual autonomy, ownership and sexuality, and an eclipse in the bull’s domain promises provocation. Here’s how to navigate the surge of power coming through this eclipse season, and claim what’s yours.
The first serve of the season is a solar eclipse, which occurs when the moon passes directly between the sun and earth, momentarily blocking out the solar rays. As this round is a partial eclipse, the moon will not fully obscure the sun, but render it into a crescent shape, briefly visible around sundown in parts of South America.
Archetypally speaking, eclipses represent a showdown between the moon and sun, the feminine and masculine, our inner world and outer expressions. The sun acts as the protagonist of our chart, a symbol of power and vitality, never going out or into retrograde. But with its fire constantly burning, the sun is constantly exposed, public, and visible. The moon, meanwhile, casts no light of its own, but reflects, holds, and carries. The moon’s world is internal, a gateway to secrets, mysteries, and traditions. When the moon occludes the sun’s rays, the daily order gets scrambled. Something ancient and primordial has cut the feed, and even if the disturbance spans for a few seconds, it will reverberate, waking up all the slayers and witches of Sunnydale.
For eons, magical practitioners have timed their work around lunar transits. But when an eclipse rolls through, the best practice has usually been to wait and see rather than hitch a ride on a hurricane. Eclipses bring chaos, even if you don’t feel it in the immediate moment. You’re not called to do anything so much as witness what comes through the portal; in other words, this is not the time to manifest. This may be a time of jagged endings, or an accumulated synthesis leading to new beginnings. Your task during an eclipse is to pay attention.
THE TAURUS ECLIPSE
Not so incidentally, eclipse season launches in the sign of the libido (latin for life force) on the day before Beltane, the Gaelic summer festival. Held on May 1, Beltane, or Cétshamhain (“first of summer”), is marked by fertility rites and great bonfires. Bulls, much needed to tend to the fertile earth, would be praised and protected, and young lovers would find their way to one another amid the flames. As rendered in Midsommar and The Mists of Avalon, this is a purely Taurean festival, one of feasting, flirting, and fertility.
This eclipse, then, is a call to new life. With Saturn in the intellectual domain of Aquarius since 2020, and a pile-up of planets in dreamy, stoned Pisces throughout March and April, our connection to our senses has been sizzled by overexposure, overstimulation, and overexhaustion. This eclipse represents an awakening, and a reclamation of our bodies and individual destinies. Taurus is the sign of ownership, of inhabiting one’s sexuality, power, and majesty — as evinced by the bull queens Michelle Pfeiffer, Cher, Christine Baranski, and Megan Fox. When the moon’s feminine power supersedes the sun, it commands a return to a higher authority; by feeding, indulging, and fueling your body, you enact a predestined arrival to your natural power.
After the fertile Taurus eclipse on April 30 comes a total lunar eclipse in Scorpio on May 16. Where Taurus takes ownership of the body, Scorpio wants to rule everything. An eclipse season on this axis will involve power struggles concerning individual autonomy. As these eclipses rage on, the fate of womens’ access to abortion in the United States hangs in the balance. By June or July, the Supreme Court will have heard arguments on the matter of individual rights, deciding if they are at the whim of the state, or protected by federal authority. At the peak of a volcanic culture battle, bodily freedom is once again a threat to the system. The reclamation this eclipse calls for is not merely spiritual, but political.
HOW TO ALIGN
The Taurus eclipse comes off the heels of a spectacular, psychedelic five-planet stellium in Pisces, which sees the moon, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Neptune blast open the floodgates of cosmic consciousness. At the time of the eclipse, all but the moon will still be swimming in the Piscean waters, and Venus and Jupiter will be nearly perfectly aligned. Of course, Venus, the ingenue and diva, rules Taurus, and when paired with expansive, ostentatious Jupiter, she’s ready to roll hard, like Sharon Stone in Casino.
If it wasn’t abundantly clear, you better indulge. Feed your body and your senses. This is the time to spring for oysters and champagne, not for the sake of wasteful excess, but to shake yourself out of despair and desensitization. The effects of the world’s darkness have weighed heavily on the collective Piscean consciousness. To be of any service, and to serve your purpose, you need to wake your body up and return to feeling. By the time of the Scorpio eclipse, you’ll tape into the pain and fear that proves we’re alive. But first, enjoy the good stuff. The world hasn’t ended yet. Go party in the fields.
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