Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much courage it takes to stay present when life feels unsettled.
I’ve stopped wondering when “things will calm down” or “become more manageable”. That, and realizing I am not the controller of the world, nor will staring into the future sustain me.
There is gentle work to be done in the in-between.
The way in which we engage the world is shifting for everyone. It’s an internal shift, not just a reaction to what we see play out – “out there”. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t felt like they’ve been on some weird rollercoaster ride at the cosmic fair.
There are the changes we can name, and then there’s that strange feeling of standing in the kitchen wondering why we came in there, only to realize we’ve been mentally trying to manage the next six months before breakfast.
I know there’s this YAY for change that can quickly devolve into “now what?” then to escape into the “doing things” rather than be with what is, and ask some important questions before jumping.
I think about the phrase, “If we do what we did, we’re gonna get what we got.” I think slow and steady is what’s calling, not choosing busier.
Scorpio season invites us beneath that busy surface…into the feelings and questions we may have been keeping at a “comfortable” distance. The people pleaser, the worrier, the one who believes she should have figured everything out by now—all may have something to say.
Bless them. They’re tired.
The Scorpio New Moon that we just experienced offers us a moment to pause and listen.
In the symbolic language of astrology, Scorpio brings us into the territory of intimacy, trust, power, endings, and renewal. It invites the kind of honesty that can change our relationship with ourselves.
What am I feeling beneath all this busyness?
What am I trying so hard to control?
What needs my care?
What’s really old and what’s gotta go finally?
These questions deserve some ground beneath them.
When everything feels chaotic, we can begin with something ordinary: a meal eaten sitting down, a walk outside, the familiar voice of someone we trust. We can put the phone away long enough to notice the room we’re actually in.
Sometimes my most useful spiritual practice is remembering that I have feet.
There they are. On the floor. Available for consultation.
That small return to the present gives us a place from which to look deeper.
Because what we’ve hidden or avoided tends to become louder when life feels uncertain. An unanswered message touches an old fear of rejection. A difficult conversation awakens the version of us who learned to keep the peace at any cost. Someone else’s success stirs an envy we would much prefer to describe as “an interesting energetic response.”
We’re human. It’s messy. There’s quite a lot going on in here!
Our shadow holds the feelings, needs, and qualities we’ve learned to hide, even from ourselves. Anger may have been unwelcome. Desire may have seemed dangerous. Maybe being capable earned us love, so we tucked our need for help somewhere nobody would find it.
There can be buried vitality in those places, too. A voice. A boundary. A creative longing that has been waiting years for permission.
The invitation is to become curious about what we encounter.
When did I learn this? What has this pattern been protecting? What might I be ready to choose now?
We can take responsibility for our behavior and still have compassion for the part of us that learned it. We can recognize an old strategy with tenderness, then decide whether it belongs in the life we’re creating.
And we can move slowly. Some discoveries need a journal page. Some need a conversation with someone trustworthy. Some deserve skilled support and time.
Spirit can meet us at a humane pace.
For this week post-New Moon, try making a small pocket of quiet. Feel the support of the chair beneath you. Let your eyes take in your surroundings. Then write:
What feels uncertain in my life, and what is mine to care for today?
What feeling or need have I been reluctant to acknowledge?
What would one kind, honest response to that need look like?
If you work with Oracle Cards, pull one with this question:
What will support me in meeting myself with greater honesty and compassion?
Co-creation includes these small, private choices: asking for help, honoring a limit, telling ourselves the truth, making room for the feeling we keep trying to outrun.
A new beginning can start there.
Moving into the light from this dark Moon, maybe we can offer ourselves a simple promise: I will listen to what is asking for care. I will take the next step I can actually take. I will allow support to meet me here.
There is courage in looking deeper. There is wisdom in bringing a little ground with us.
