(Mosaic Artist – Dupont Center, Toronto Artist?)
New Moon rises on Monday, February 8th at 6:39 AM PST & 9:39 EST at 19 Degrees of Aquarius 16′
For me, about five days before any new or full Moon event, something that feels unexpected, but fairly mundane, occurs. An image grabs my attention or someone says something that jars a specific personal memory – something from my past that was, at one time, emotionally charged.
Within the context of my present life, though, the memory tends to feel like a part of me that’s been settled. Whatever the occurrence , initially it seems arbitrary and disconnected from my current focus. As the week wears on though, my mind wanders back to the incident and the memory, and I begin to wonder about the timing, the message, and its potential relevance.
A week ago I was in Indianapolis visiting my son and his family. One night we went to a small neighborhood restaurant staffed by a successful chef who, in a former life, had achieved some degree of fame and fortune. Now, in addition to being a chef, running his own charming place, he was the waiter and the server too. The meal was exceptional and when it was time to pay the bill I handed him my credit card. He disappeared for a few minutes. When he came back he wanted to discuss my name.
Apparently my legal name, as printed on the credit card, was the coolest name he’d ever run across. A conversation ensued at our table and my daughter-in-law totally agreed. She said she never understood why I didn’t use my legal name.
The chef said that he had a two year old daughter named Belle. He loved her name and said that he and his wife had put a lot of thought and effort into choosing it. He wanted to find another name that he loved for their second child and felt fortunate to have run across mine.
So you know me as Holly, but my real name is Hollis. It’s on all my legal documents but no one ever calls me by that name. My parents never did and my youngest sister did only occasionally when she was trying to annoy me. Always it was always a source of embarrassment for me, especially on the first day of school when, during attendance-taking, the new teacher would call out my real name, Hollis, and I would seriously consider pretending she was absent. I always hoped that a mistake would be made and that all traces of my legal name would disappear from the school system records. But that never happened. On the first day of school, at least, the system ran smoothly and I was predictably humiliated.
My friends were confused and amused when I answered to the name Hollis.
“Hollis??? I thought you were Holly. What kind of a name is that? It’s weird. Isn’t that a boy’s name?”
Sometimes they jokingly called me Hollis for a couple days. But that eventually died down quickly and I was essentially “home free” for another year.
When I asked my parents what they were thinking naming me something so strange, they said they thought Holly was a nickname and that I would eventually want something more formal. In retrospect it seemed even they regretted it. I never understood how they could be so careless as to name me something so odd and unfitting.
(Mosaic Art – Betsy Youngquist)
But within the context of my traditional upbringing, I actually was pretty odd. My beliefs, perspectives, and talents, if known, would have been cause for concern. But I was adept enough to design an early life that masked whatever I thought would define me as different and excludable. It took me thirty years to come out as an astrologer when I knew for at least 20 of those years that I had an odd gift for interpreting ancient astrological symbolism.
Aquarian new Moons have a way of reminding you of your personal distinctiveness. They seem to ask the question “What it is about you that is original and unique, and how comfortable are you developing and expressing it?”
Last week, leading up to this Aquarian New Moon, an article published in the New York Times caught my attention. It was called “How to Raise a Creative Child”
The article makes the point that only a fraction of highly original, gifted children ever become revolutionary adult creators – those who agree to make the painful transition to an adult who ultimately “remakes a domain.”
The other salient point by author Adam Grant is that those who do become revolutionary adult creators do so because they allow themselves to follow their passion. They do what they love and routinely honor and nourish that love.
Vesta is the asteroid of passion. Where you find Vesta within your natal birth chart defines the type of passion capable of fueling original, revolutionary creations. In this Aquarian new Moon Chart, Vesta and Uranus, Aquarius’s modern ruler, are united. The message is clear. It’s time to plant a seed that will blossom, over the next nine months, into a reflection of your most distinctly original self. And it’s time to take the initial steps in that direction on February 15th of this year.