The Fire Under Our Tongues

New moon at 23° of Leo

In the first dark hours of Wednesday, at 2:38am in the morning PST, the moon renews herself in the sun at 23° of Leo, the cosmic king. The Sabian symbol for this degree is “a bareback rider displays her dangerous skill.” It’s a degree of exceptional daring and artistry and flair, the kind that’s only activated when the path seem unsafe, giving us the courage to put ourselves in harms way. Leo is an archetype of self mastery and authentic expression, so this is Leo at its most Leo. Its ruler is the sun, meaning whatever house it leads in your chart and whatever planets it’s influencing there all have something to do with your personal destiny or individuation process in this lifetime—how you were born to shine. This new moon is urging us to test our courage and audacity when it comes to being ourselves completely, to living more openly and honestly and directly, and to speaking our truth with a little more force and fire.

As I’m sure you are already feeling, this is a very potent new moon, and part of what’s making it so potent is that Leo is the site of the current Venus retrograde. This past Sunday, Venus arrived at the midpoint of her journey and had her cazimi moment in the sun, which is where the moon is broadcasting from now. In the Sumerian myth of Inanna’s underworld journey associated with Venus retrogrades, she has just been revived from death, saved by the watery powers of feeling and empathy. She is now on the ascent. You may have received a much needed insight or had a personal breakthrough, something that clarified what this Venus retrograde has been trying to show you. This new moon is also sitting at the point of Black Moon Lilith, which represents the untamed part of ourselves that won’t stay quiet. And it’s in a square to the great disrupter-revolutionary Uranus.

So let us pause, together, new-moon-rest-and-reset-style, with this fire under our tongues.

Let us practice the ancient art of sweating it, and taking some breaths on purpose—composing ourselves, composing our words—and then, going for it. Whatever you need to say, say it. Or write it. Or paint it in vivid colors on a wall.

And, as this astrology is brewing up such a strong dose, a few reminders from your friendly neighborhood trauma-and-the-voice-specialist. As a little more or a lot more of our power starts surging through us, as a part of the nervous system hits the gas, it’s going to target the shoulders and neck and jaw, to prepare us to fight and to speak in a way that we will be heard. Our job is to tolerate that charge by embodying it more fully and then, when we are ready, use it. But if that kind of charge doesn’t feel familiar or safe, or if we feel threatened generally by the power dynamic we are in, (as in, beware speaking truth to power, if that power can jail you or fire you or fuck up your shit in any number of real ways), another part of the nervous system will hit the brake, and those muscles will tense and tighten. Our minds might start racing. It could get very uncomfortable, even intolerable. Our voices could get blocked, and instead of speaking our truth, we might start fawning and people pleasing or just dissociating. Or—much more likely on this new moon—we might rush straight to catharsis, to get some relief by dispelling all that charge through our voices. We might say some harsh words we cannot take back.

Being emotionally honest is a skill. There are so many parts of us, and so many parts of the truth, to speak for at once. We only learn to do it well by taking the risk to do it badly, and then feeling badly on the other side. Discovering the nature of our power and what’s true for us is a trial and error process, and sometimes an error and error process. Refinement happens over time. If we have safe, sturdy partners to practice being honest with, people who have no agenda for us, who can offer us some unconditional positive regard and empathetic listening and space to work it out out-loud, the process is still a little hot and jangly, but we get there, little by little, flowering by flowering. If we have more fragile or controlling partners, it might not be possible at all, unless we become willing to lose those relationships. Since the emphasis on this new moon—the insistence really—is that we prioritize our honesty and authentic self expression over the protection of our attachment relationships, let’s just be aware, both as speakers and listeners. If we are burning with something to say, and we can contain the fire of of it long enough for some intention and empathy and kindness to mix in with it, anything poisonous will get watered down into medicine. Raw expression will become communication. Intimacy, trust, and respect can deepen.

And, if someone comes at you a little too strongly this week, see if you can be generous about that, and understanding; be the safe sturdy person that has a sure enough sense of self and boundaries to let someone have their truth be heard, without punishment or social reprisal. If you’re the one who comes out hot, and later feels a kind of way about it, offer yourself that same generosity. When we have to choose between being right, and being in relationship, and both feel equally important, the call is to get creative. Redefine rightness itself to include relational harmony and self-integrity; redefine winning in ways where everyone gets heard, and everyone gets ahead. Don’t give up.

Now matter what, this new moon in Leo is here to remind us that authentic, uncompromised expression is one of the surest paths to liberation. It’s one of the ways we come to inhabit the full potential of our selves, in this incarnation. I’ve come to believe that fullness of expression is only possible when we are receiving at the same time as we are emitting; when we are listening to ourselves as we speak, listening to our listeners, listening to the living environment we are speaking in, listening to our guides, allowing for live resonant feeds and feedback to refine our expression into more exquisite, more encompassing truths. Here’s to being live wires this week. And here’s to an epic reset on how we enter the great circuit of honest, beautiful noise.

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A couple of quick announcements before getting to the ritual and creative prompts for this moon! The Moon School addition to this newsletter, with essays on my approach to astrology and other systems of symbols as aids to healing, creativity, and self-realization, is still coming! And shortly, assuming this coming Mercury retrograde does not crash all my things. I began the writing, but had to pause for what turned out to be an incredibly deep Venus retrograde healing for me personally. Thank you for your patience as my heart furniture settles from this latest rearrangement.

One of the things I got from this cazimi and am also getting from this new moon is a kind of reinfusion of love for my work with the voice, and writers, and the ways we are trying to heal ourselves and each other and the culture through using our voices and listening more radically. So I am rededicating some more of my professional practice time to groups and workshops this fall and winter. Here’s what’s coming, and you can also just check my website anytime for upcoming dates and more information:

Embodied Alchemy (there are 3 spots left! this is our third time offering this as a live group course, and it will be the last for awhile )

Fall Storytelling Intensive - Stories of Healing/Healing Our Stories (registration just opened, limited to 8! this one’s remote on Zoom, and an in-person is being set up for the winter)

The Writer’s Process Group (for writers dreaming up books and writing books, who could benefit from some expert containment and support)

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Ritual and Creative Prompts

(Disclaimer: Prompts are suggestions, not instructions. Play with what sounds good to you, ignore what’s doesn’t. Adapt in any way you see fit.)