Post eclipsia feels often manifest as a deep desire to run for the hills or the coast or whatever new land you would hit first if you just started swimming. The stomach churning wild ride that is eclipse season is always equal parts lifechanging and crazymaking. Turned up to 11 if you have much Leo or Aquarius in your chart. What you will know for sure: life looks vastly different than it did three short weeks ago.

This is what it looks like mere moments before The Unexpected wallops you with a post eclipse backhander. Bless. I have no fuqing idea what's coming.

When it comes to spirit animals, Miss Piggy has a place in my pantheon. As she rightly articulated this week - and I respectfully paraphrase - we fight to hold on and oh my giddy aunt how hard we fight to simply let go. Held fast as we are in the syrupy thick of the dark moon, we are now painfully brutally aware of all that eclipse season has excised from our lives.

Reset button anyone?

If your last month / eclipse experience has resembled a steaming pile of revolution, the wishing moon on the horizon is the antidote to your malaise. The fresh air of the Aquarius new moon is a partial solar eclipse, partner of the Leo harbinger and finale to Eclipse-A-Tron, as well as the lunar new year. This is a powerful portal in which to craft your brave new world.

We have officially entered the balsamic phase or the deepest dark of the moon. How well you dance through your darkness is the scene setter (and greatest determinant, in this witch's opinion) of how effective your new moon will be. And this next new moon in a few days - a solar eclipse and the lunar new year - is a Very Big Deal and the mightiest this year.

Oh that bridge of sighs between eclipses. Herewith the pointy end of this mad season, as we round the final bend and descend into the dark of the moon. We are not there yet, not nearly. These dark days are the eclipse slingshot drawing back, taut and shaking.

The Apothekerrie also caters for our beloved familiars. I was inspired by my Stella to create a soothing flower essence blend just for pooches. Happy Dog Drops are a remedy for anxiety, panic and fear. They are especially good for those pupsters who suffer from separation anxiety, quiver in terror during thunder and storms or have experienced traumatic early lives.

Hands up / rack off anyone whose life was not turned upside down over the last three weeks or so when our cosmic trickster Mercury was retrograde. This time around it was an emotional doozy, especially for those with key planets in Taurus and Aries (your mercurial tales of woe welcome below) or those anywhere nearby, which between them constitutes a great many of us.

It is accepted lore that whatever you focus on expands, in an effort to reward your vision and meet the direction of your attention. At the new moon we traditionally cast in the direction of our dearest dreams, taking care to be mindful of what we wish for.

The key to it all is our unwavering attention.

But first, the dark moon and the deep dreaming that accompanies her solitude. Today is the day for foolproof relinquishing, permanent banishing and unhurried inspiration as your wisdom bubbles up from the depths of the dark cauldron. Ever a moment for watching not acting - within and without - and sweet overdue rest. If it feels like you're pushing the proverbial uphill, it is only because you are fighting a biological imperative to lay in wait for the rush of energy that accompanies this night's new moon. Until then, stillness is the name of the game. A dark moon done well is its own reward.

We make way for the beauty of the moon new in Taurus, as we steady beneath her gaze. With four of our galaxy still covering old ground and retrograde magic thus afoot, now is not the perfect hour to call in our audacious new beginning. Rather this is the time to embody the gracious patience and endurance that is a Taurean hallmark.

Bow down Bohemians to a high priestess of the magical life, whose original art I was lucky enough to drink in on this day five years ago *swoon*.

We have just passed the magical midpoint of Mercury's merry retrograde, he and the sun fist bumping as they sauntered in opposite directions through the Taurean gate. This hallowed tipping point is always a lightbulb moment: something drops in, pops up, turns around, makes sudden sense. The light switches on and the chaotic disordering of the first part of our comm planet's backwards two step begins to make faint sense.

It is time to make your welcome return to verdant Taurean meadows and the hallowed realm of the sensualist; to eat, drink and make merry, to have and to hold, to dance and to swoon as the band strikes up once more, to sprawl in the everlovin' arms of Mama Nature and drink in everything your felt senses have to offer. The light changes and the birdsong too when we hear the thunder of bullish hooves as the stars remind us once more of all we have been given here on earth.

After a frantic few weeks on the rollercoaster my long weekend has finally arrived. Late, laden and just in time. Today with the mist stubbornly refusing to lift, an executive decision has been made by my Council of Familiars. Only Elvira used the fancy word when the decree was handed down. As the cool mist danced around exposed wrists, I willingly submitted.

The world we inhabit is built on cycles of life and death and rebirth. We bear witness through unseeing eyes to the rise and fall and return of the moon, the tides, the seasons, our bodies. Yet resurrection remains a brutal story from a book we read once that we think bears no resemblance to our lives; to be observed with a toss of the head or chocolate bunnies.

Venus at the station signals her impending re-emergence as she prepares to turn direct before the next night passes. She has arrived, in every sense. Of the whole rollercoaster Venusian retrograde, the stationing point is the giant corkscrew at the end of the ride. The one that lurches and rattles before you hurtle above ground, glittering eyes adjusting to the new platform.