The Pisces Moon (as promised)

Pisces Moon

Well, I did say I was going to write about it—I always do that, commit myself to things by either uttering them aloud, or writing them down. That’s something most Pisceans know better than to do. In fact, they are forever slithering out of engagements of all sorts, swimming on to the next cove.

They know reality is mutable, changeable, volatile (oh, and yet: how they hate the frustrated volatility their nonchalance so often incites). Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies, is one of the wise Fish’s mottos. Same goes for their schedules. Don’t pencil me in, and I won’t stand you up.

But what can I say about the Pisces Moon? This year, my Solar Return Moon is in Pisces, so I’d better get comfortable with it. The last time my SR Moon was in Pisces, a few years back, I spent most of the year navel gazing and pondering what my purpose in life might be. Nothing seemed like quite a good enough reason to exist: I felt, in true Piscean fashion, like I’d already seen and done it all, and none of it had meant all that much. And yet, somehow, I enjoyed my melancholy. It wasn’t like true grief, or sorrow, or depression, but more of a shady spot beneath a tree—a nook I could duck into and think, and dream. My imagination was on high that year, as it often is when Pisces is adding its pale and iridescent colours to the mix.

Those I know with the Moon in Pisces are very much this way—always seeking an emotional escape. So susceptible are they to the harsh and grinding woes of society, and their significant friends and others, so empathetic, so influenced by whatever is happening around them (and just beyond them) for good or ill. . .they dearly guard their private time, making sure those few precious hours of freedom to daydream aren’t compromised by the demands of whom or whatever. We all, of course, need right-brain dream time in order to seed our visions of the future and sort out our pasts, and this is the lesson of Pisces: allowance is not always passive. Allowance is an act. To allow ourselves the freedom to regenerate and re-imagine our lives is one of the most generous allowances we can confer upon ourselves. And so, when the Moon is in Pisces, I recommend that we all do a little withdrawing, daydreaming, floating on our backs looking up at the stars.

Funnily enough, many people will react to a Pisces Moon by fighting the urge to look within, or to rely on themselves for emotional, intellectual, financial or material sustenance. This is when people really come at you with their needs. They’ll come at you with their needs (umm, demands) under an Aries Moon too, but under Pisces, the requests one is most frequently met with are either very vague, or so personal as to be almost unreasonable. Ah, the irrational Pisces Moon. This is when you will hear things like: “Well, my mother has been sick, and I’ve been caring for her night and day, night and day, and you know, if you could just run this one errand for me…” Emotional blackmail, you might say. It’s okay to give in and meet the needs of others, especially considering Pisces lesson of compassion. However, its important to remember to have compassion for oneself and not take on too much. As mellow as this sign has a reputation for being, when the Moon is in Pisces, it often seems as if the collective’s teeth (and hands) come out. This is likely because we are, in our uncertain, often unconscious way, reaching out, attempting to participate in the unfathomable give and take that comprises humanity.

Pisces, along with Capricorn and Aquarius, is one of the collective signs—a sign embodying and descriptive of social forces, of something “bigger” than oneself. Its influence can be overwhelming for Fire and Air signs, and exhausting for Earth signs such as me. Nothing pragmatic ever really seems to work under a Pisces Moon. There are no quick fixes for the sorts of issues that arise—nebulous, difficult to define issues. Nagging feelings. Unrequited love.

I realized upon reading over my first post that I cited the subject of the Pisces Moon as the perfect subject to help wet my feet. Funny, because, of course, Pisces rules the feet, the parts of our bodies that hold us up and help us to balance, all the while processing each and every little sensation to help us maintain our equilibrium. They have a thankless task, our feet, and, similarly, the Pisces function is often taken for granted. Now, as I write this, a few days since my promise to do so (typical Pisces Moon style: I set a task for myself, and then. . .just. . .drifted from it for a bit), the Moon is on its way out of Aries (the Ram) and into Taurus (the Bull). Had it not been for the dreamy state of mind I was in under Pisces, I wouldn’t have had the material on which to act (Aries) today, or to cultivate (Taurus) going forward. Lucky Pisces Moon, indeed. I’ll end off on this note: never take the thoughts, or wisps, or fragments, or shadows of shadows of ideas that occur to you under a Pisces Moon for granted. Something vital is surely trying to shimmer up from the depths.