Pushing Through the Light: Full Moon in Pisces 2014

Inside view of the pantheon in Rome, Italy with the typical light
 beam glaring from the occulus in its rooftop; via Wikimedia Commons.

Full Moon @ 16 Pisces 19'
September 8, 2014
6:38 PM Pacific
3:38 PM Eastern

This month’s lunar cycle culminates in the sign of Pisces—the symbolic end of the tropical zodiac. There is always a sense of nebulous dissipation with Pisces, as the world of form meets a point of transcendence, an apotheosis.

The summation of biological and ideological evolution must, at some point, dissolve—at least from our point of reference; though the dissipation is merely an illusion. We know that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, that it can only change form.

The next stage of the journey is hidden from us; it has expanded beyond our perceptual reach; but that does not mean its presence evades more subtle faculties. Thus there are things just outside our visual perspective that not only exist, but that have tremendous power over us.

Symbols are potent and dynamic forces that can shape entire cultures. They can spur humanity into an emotional and psychic hysteria—creating movements which have the longevity to endure several thousands of years.

It’s funny, comical really, how the current western paradigm downplays the significance of anything that doesn’t fit into a Newtonian framework of reality. The world of the “supernatural” is often disparaged as a silly, childlike belief--something akin to fantasy and make-believe.

Discarnate entities, aliens, or UFOs are likened to mythologies—which to the vast majority of modern peoples are merely stories relegated to a form of entertainment. Yet, the past reveals something truly incredible (and equally frightening) about the power of myths, symbols and archetypes.

Christianity, Nazism, Scientology and many facets of new age fundamentalism are powerful movements which have little scientific or rational basis; yet, it’s obvious their addictive power to lure the masses into activities that seem to defy all logical sensibilities.

The holocaust is a grim example of how a symbol can warp and contort basic human instincts. In the wake of such atrocities, we’re left to wonder whether such things are truly human….or the byproduct of something else.

For me, that something else is hard to describe, for it resides in a realm we cannot fully comprehend in a human body. Try explaining Einstein’s theory of Relativity and all its flaws to a cockroach and you get what I mean.  Yet, when we take a step back, and really look at things from a much vaster vantage point, it becomes obvious that human evolution is guided by profoundly intelligent agents.

Who or what they are can only be speculation. The more asleep and unconscious we are as a society, the more prone we are to truly disturbing behaviors and compulsions. The path of entropy is the path of least resistance.

As Carl Jung once said, “There is no coming to consciousness without pain.” Most of us would rather avoid the pain. Most of us would rather stay asleep and feel good and comfortable most of the time. That’s all fine and well, and probably best for most people.

But truth and beauty arise only from unbearable struggle. Take a look at the natural world. Really notice the most beautiful flora and fauna that surround you. They are masters of evolution; they have painstakingly chiseled away, rising from the abysmal void to take on a form all their own.

I’m running into a tangent here, I know. Bear with me. The point I’m trying to make stems from a centaur object that is obscured by the brightness of this Full Moon. Chiron has confounded astrologers ever since its discovery in 1977.

No one seems to quite agree on its meaning. We know Chiron as the “wounded healer”. Yes, mythically, that’s what he was. Chiron was a centaur—half man and half beast; he was also quite astute in the healing arts and was immortal. Therefore, Chiron was likened to a god.

Yet, as the story goes, Chiron was not immune to pain and suffering. Like everything else in the universe (or everything confined to the illusion of separation from oneness), Chiron was vulnerable. In a nutshell, Chiron was struck, accidently, by an arrow shot by one of his inebriated students, Heracles.

You see, a bunch of centaurs had a bit of wine. In their drunkenness (which we could say symbolizes a state of unconsciousness), an arrow had struck Chiron, who was not participating in the raucous. In a way, Chiron was a helpless victim.  

The arrow contained a poison from the Hydra. Since he could not die, Chiron was left to endure unbearable pain for eternity. To relieve his suffering, Chiron chose to die. He took the place of Prometheus, who was bound to a rock and tortured by an eagle that relentlessly pecked at his liver for bringing fire to humanity.

 "The Centaur of Tymfi". Centaur skeleton prepared and articulated by
Skulls Unlimited International as a work for hire commissioned by Bill Willers.

Chiron transcended his physical vehicle and became a constellation in the sky--what we now know as the archer, or Sagittarius (but not to be confused with the tropical sign of Sagittarius used in western astrology). Chiron reached an apotheosis and moved beyond the world of form and structure to become a symbol, which still haunts humanity to this day.

What’s the moral of the story? I suppose, like any myth, it all depends on how you look at it. What does Chiron mean? I have the same answer: it’s a matter of the perception you choose to view it. One thing I think we can all agree on is that Chiron represents a wound—something deep that festers within us.

But that wound really reveals something about humanity. It reveals the struggle to find reconciliation between our innate, primal (or lower) tendencies and the painstaking struggle to evolve beyond them. The irony is that we can’t escape what we are; we can only strive for something more.

Pisces symbolizes that “something more” we all fight to achieve. We probably shouldn’t give up, but we should equally not beat ourselves up for not being perfect, and then, at some point, we see the futility of it all.

Sometimes that realization leads to nihilism. At other times it brings about an acceptance of our inevitable human fate and imperfection. In the end, all forms reach a state of dissipation—from either transcendence or annihilation (which is actually a form of recycling).

In Buddhism, the objective is to reach a point of joyful participation in the sorrows of the world. We need not escape reality, but rather awaken and return and become a part of it, yet not attached to the illusion it truly is (to detach ourselves from eternal suffering).

As this Full Moon culminates in the sky, conjoined Chiron, we are faced with the opportunity to awaken from some deep sleep that has come upon us—individually and collectively. That bright and luminous Moon irradiates the placid and mysterious Piscean sea.

Two weeks ago, the New Moon in Virgo redirected our awareness back to a path more suitable for our evolution. That was accentuated by Saturn’s conjunction with Mars. With the now fading cavalcade in Leo, that lunation brought in some rain clouds that may have put a damper on some things—that is, if we refused to focus ourselves intentionally.

Saturn is easing the pressure with this Full Moon. Mars is moving on into Sagittarius and progressing slowly out of orb of that conjunction. If we choose to awaken, to clear the fog that has blinded us from certain truths, Saturn’s trine to the Moon and Chiron helps to bring what was once intangible into some concreteness.

In other words, we can make some real progress here, but that only comes about in a Piscean sort of way: through a meditative observation of reality the way that it actually is. That means allowing the light to clear away all wishful thinking. With Chiron, the wound has the potential to become an asset of some kind, if we choose to accept what is inherently inevitable about us.

As human beings, we’re vulnerable. That much is true. No amount of scientific progress will ever negate that truth. Our woundedness is a part of the deal, no one escapes it; but our woundedness can teach us truly valuable things--like humility, compassion and the attainment of awe.

In the end, all wounds stem from the original wound: our perception is limited; what we see is merely a shadow, an after image of something we couldn't possibly perceive in its entirety. In a nutshell, we are caught up in an illusion—the world of Maya.

It can take a soul thousands of lifetimes before it realizes that. Why is this significant now? Well, because it seems that we are on an interesting course—collectively speaking. It’s a lunation like this that can quench our spiritual and perceptual thirst.

I’ll leave it up to you to decide what that would look like. As you go about your daily affairs, look deeper into the events and sequences of your life. See beyond the appearances to what they actually symbolize. Yes, the universe speaks through symbols.

When we finally grasp that, we gain the opportunity to transcend cycles of seemingly endless pain and suffering. When we awaken, the light is blinding; it hurts our eyes. If we endure and keep pushing through the light, resisting the temptation to retreat, we find ourselves transformed and adjusted to a new perceptual framework.