Scorpio New Moon: Metamorphosis

Transformation is rarely easy.

I once spent a few summers helping to shepherd monarch caterpillars into butterflies for release,* an undertaking that’s both astonishing and beautiful: The insatiable caterpillar munches loudly on milkweed leaves, readying itself for metamorphosis. After a couple of hungry weeks – shedding its skin as it grows exponentially – the arthropod finds a quiet spot, hangs upside down, and essentially digests itself, becoming soupy goo.**

It’s probably safe to say that many people find this a relatable feeling these days…

Some crucial cells survive, though, which turn the blobby mess into key adult structures – eyes and wings, for example. Then, over a period of about ten days, the pale green chrysalis begins to fade, allowing a view of the butterfly forming inside, as the monarch pod takes on the familiar colors and pattern.

A recognizable creature becomes murky sludge, then emerges wonderfully refashioned.

Sure, this metaphor is a bit on the nose. But Scorpio season is inviting us into the swampland of radical renovation and renewal.

And maybe some of us could use a little revival of our own.

In all honesty, grief hasn’t given me much of a vacation this year: The last essay I published shared the story of my dad, who had entered hospice care.

He died just a few days later.

Between several personal losses in 2023 – not to mention the chaos going on in the world around us – it’s easy to forget that often, it’s through adversity and crisis that space is created for something new to appear.

For example, I watched as my mom lost the love of her life after a beloved marriage of 62 years, then courageously considered her future, and pared down to what’s essential – not unlike the process the caterpillar endures when vital cells survive as the changeover occurs.

Mom moved out of the home she’d lived in for over half a century and, as she said often during that time, “We turn the page; it’s a new chapter.”

It’s not that she’s not grieving or looking back; she is. There’s been a lot of reflection as the big shift happened.

But Mom recognized that the pathway through the sea change of her life – when feeling adrift on the ocean of existence – is to face forward, place your gaze on a fixed point on the horizon, and slowly start moving in that direction.

What remains after unfathomable loss? And are we always in the process of becoming and recasting ourselves anew?

Do we dare hope that the passages and doorways of our years will offer meaning during hardship and bereavement?

Can we bloom through the concrete cracks on the sidewalk of our life as challenging transitions unfold?

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The question is as we face the sufferings of our world: Do we react, or do we respond? Do we react from the amygdala, from our conditioned fears, with anger, with blame, with more violence? Or do we have the capacity to pause, to open to the moment without resistance, to feel what's here and then respond from a larger space of awareness, from our natural intelligence and our heart?

- psychologist, meditation teacher, and author Tara Brach

On November 13th (3:28am CT), a New Moon arrives at 20°43’ Scorpio. New Moons always happen when the Sun and Moon join, beginning a fresh 4-week, 6-month, and 2.5-year cycle.

Penetrating Scorpio is the zodiac sign of mutation, morphing, and magic. It symbolizes the idea of power, passion, intensity, and depth, and signifies that which is hidden beneath the surface. It has an association with diamonds, oil, and other hidden, underground treasures.

What’s buried in you that holds value and is waiting to take shape? Think of the mythical phoenix rising from the ashes – that’s the essence of Scorpio.

It’s no coincidence that Scorpio season happens during Halloween, Samhain, Día de los Muertos, and All Souls Day, for the Scorpion also represents the cycle of death and rebirth, and of letting go and release. How can you cast off behaviors that don’t align with your authentic self?

Some astrologers refer to swampy Scorpio as the fire sign of the water signs. It’s ruled by red-hot Mars, our cosmic gas pedal and the planet of action, drive, and willpower.

The luminaries are sitting next to protective Mars, at home in Scorpio, and in close opposition to the unpredictable planet of awakening, Uranus; this creates a profoundly unsteady, dynamic, let’s-take-action-and-break-free New Moon.

As my dear colleague Celeste Brooks always says, “Don’t break down, break through!”

Be aware that the Mars-Uranus combination can bring feelings of restlessness, impatience, and sometimes volatility. How can you prepare yourself to thoughtfully respond and not react, as Tara Brach advises? How can you be more patient, rather than letting impulsivity lead? Are there ways that you can take care to ground yourself during this time?

This New Moon is also making a helpful trine to gentle Neptune in mystical Pisces, presenting an opportunity to tune into inspiration, creativity of all sorts, and spiritual practices. Can you pause during surprising developments, and lean on empathy?

Both Scorpio and Pisces can heal, as well – but keep in mind that the sign of the Fish is also associated with grief, loss, fog, deception, and confusion. Try to focus on the soothing properties of seafaring Pisces, instead of the escapist ones. How can you let go of what’s no longer serving you, cultivating recovery while moving in a restorative direction?

Finally, communicator Mercury in expansive Sagittarius is making a cooperative link to relationship-oriented Venus in gracious Libra, but is also crossing paths with exacting Saturn – which can sometimes feel isolating, like a cloud overhead. Can you connect and share your feelings with someone you love as a route forward?

This Scorpio New Moon is inviting a reawakening: How can you aim for more compassionate depth and substance in your life, in your relationships, and in your actions?

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When the monarch butterfly is ready to emerge from its chrysalis, it pushes out of its enclosure, hangs on to its exoskeleton, and just… waits.

It’s still in transition, resting at the gateway of its redesign.

The little acrobat then visibly grows, second by second, as its underdeveloped wings begin to expand. It’s easy to wonder: How did this thing ever fit inside that tiny shell??

Where have you been constricted in your life? And are there ways you can helpfully revolutionize that which is limiting you?

After a couple of hours, wings finally dry, the butterfly is ready to leave the proverbial nest.

And what a gift to behold: As the monarch takes its first awe-inspiring flight, it initially appears wobbly and drunk, flying in circles, not quite sure of itself. Quickly, it gains confidence and skill, moving higher and higher – over the trees and rooftops, away-away-away.

On a recent podcast I produced,*** astrologer Stormie Grace said something I’ve been pondering: “Listen, you are not made to be in the first-quarter, getting-it-done-all-the-time energy. Sometimes you’re balsamic, and you have your personal winter. And you gotta die off, because when you’re in a balsamic energy, you are losing and shedding and dying off a piece of you so that the next version of you that's ready to live your best life can be doing that… And it's so personal, so I try and bring the language forward: We live alive, and we die alive.”

The idea of living alive and dying alive calls to mind this Scorpio New Moon: How can we be more beautifully deliberate, moment to moment? In the throes of turmoil and metamorphosis, can we live with intention and understanding – toward ourselves and others?

After the transformation comes the rebirth.

And so – just as my mom forges ahead, navigating this devastating time with purpose – I’ll allow the idea of living more authentically and consciously to take root.

After all, the renaissance is around the corner for the caterpillar.

I hope it’s waiting for all of us, too.

Essay and photo ©2023 Jen Braun, JJ Boots Productions LLC

Special thanks to my mom, who gave her blessing to post this essay.

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* It’s no secret that the monarch population has been on the decline, but many experts advise: Don’t try raising them at home without proper training.

** To learn more, visit the National Wildlife Federation’s A Visual Journey Through the Monarch Life Cycle.

*** Within Orb is a podcast from the Celestial Arts Education Library Institute. Each week, CAELi’s founder and host, Jenn Zahrt, interviews astrologers about the books that changed their life and practice. Lend your ears to the show, become a CAELi member, or learn more: https://caeli.institute/.

 

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