Well, almost. Our fleet footed communicator has shimmied even further back into Leo, switching his retrograde motion yesterday from a fine eye for the details to a heart based revision. I do so love a neopolitan retrograde, where we are offered a couple of options, ways and means for the magic to unfold.
Travelling backwards through Virgo we have been able to drill deep into the bedrock of eclipsia, fine tuning at a micro level as our worlds tipped and toppled and tipped again. In Leo, the Mercurial gaze is more expansive, pulling our lens back out and begging only the hand on heart honest to goodness truth of us-right-now. If it doesn’t set you aflutter or aflame, tis time to let it fall through the cracks. Those voracious births and deaths and rebirths of eclipse season are supposed to stick.
Our old mate Merc has Mars in his sights as they both belt for – where else – the precise degree of the recent showstopping solar eclipse. More fire even as we are still smouldering but you probably don’t need me to tell you that. You can bet a boob that you will be reminded of that heady tipping point one way or another or another again over the next few days as we belt towards the full moon on Wednesday.
Feel how the field is levelling, oh blessed smoothing out. It has been more than a moon cycle – or month, for the muggles 😎 – since that first syzygy set our world to tremouring and things got seriously interesting. If you have paced yourself well, cultivated the twin arts of militant self care and unwavering boundaries whilst ducking, weaving and rolling with the punches, you may just find yourself approaching an eclipse finish line you are happy to cross. And that, my lovelies, is well worth raising a fist for.
Eyes peeled. We’re nearly there.
© Kerrie Basha, 2017