Tuesday night, I drank some tea with valerian root before I slept. The last dream I had before waking lit up my astral body with palpable emotion… I was in a wide hallway that turned into a sort of foyer, all filled up with several feet of water. One of my cats, Azul, was drowning and it was my task to save him. But he was not struggling — rather, he was drifting peacefully from the surface down to the floor, slowly disappearing from sight.
I glimpsed my beagle Toby, who lives at my mother’s house, underwater as well. It's strange, he was swimming through the deeper murkiness effortlessly, despite his old years. Yet there was still some implicit choice, and I knew that Azul was my focus. He represented not only the love I have for my cats, but for all living creatures. I had not felt so powerfully during a dream since this past November’s end: the moon was in Pisces conjoining Chiron and Neptune, and I freed a dolphin trapped underwater in a boat’s rudder, a story I will revisit in future writing. One of the last times I took valerian root before sleep, at the end of 2012, I had a vivid dream involving my cat Keiran and a profound sense of loss. No doubt the power of that plant also plays into the strength of feeling.
It’s not shocking that the moon’s movement through water signs seems to trigger deep emotions for me, in dreams and waking life. My dreams, at least the layers I retain, tend to be of a more fiery and earthy nature. There are often complex narratives at work, of which I’m intuitively aware but sometimes feel I’m not ‘allowed’ to remember. And there is always a strong sensory component — different earthy textures, charged totems and gorgeous environments, sometimes joined together at the seams in a way that is at once fluid and warped, Dali-esque.
My dreams are perhaps airy in that I think during them, but there is never much dialogue. The nuanced meanings are all-permeating, like an immediate, fiery electromagnetism. The wateriness of my dreams is often latent, always present, and emerging plutonic like an underwater volcano when I show my compassion for living creatures.
When I dreamt of Azul drowning, the moon was at 0° Cancer and Venus 13° Cancer. Both my cats, Keiran and Azul, were born on July 15th, 2012, when the sun was at 23° Cancer. My natal Jupiter, which trines Pluto in Scorpio but sits opposite or inconjunct every other planet in my chart, is retrograde at 5° Cancer. That expansive gas giant, with its lone orbital position ‘across from’ the rest of the planets, is the focus of integration in my chart. Jupiter's placement in nurturing, instinctive Cancer and such a watery, transformative, life-death-sex charged house (the 8th) points toward compassionate work as a balance and catharsis to my personal energies. An opening where there might be hardening.
In such ways… this past year I have found myself increasingly moved not only toward the soul-nourishing work of giving more readings, but also the prospect of working in some kind of care or aid. This could take the form of working with animals, with the elderly, or in disaster relief. All different endeavors, all very Jupiter in Cancer in the 8th.
Emphasizing the beauty and divinity of all earthly creatures, I will close with some mercurial oddities…
Saturn has long been said to rule the teeth. Sagittarius is the sagely sign of ‘higher minded’ wisdom; the word ‘guru’ literally means Jupiter (ruler of Sagittarius). Mercury and Gemini have long been said to rule the nervous system.
Last sunday on the new moon, with Mars in Gemini opposing Saturn in Sagittarius, one of my wisdom teeth broke in half, exposing the nerve and leaving me mired in pain I did not think was possible. This prompted a three-day fruit fast, which triggered major healing in my body. Mars and Saturn screamed at me to cull back my restless indulgence — a shadow of the Gemini-Sagittarius axis, sung by my stacked 3rd house and fiery Mars.
Hand-in-hand with my inspiration to increase nurturing work with all living beings, I’ve been planning a return to the near-veganism of my high school days. I already eat mostly vegan, and a raw diet is becoming increasingly necessary for my function. Part of Mercury’s message is a pluralistic understanding that there is not only one way, and I’m not particularly dogmatic in my belief that many would benefit from consuming less flesh, and from consuming less period. I simply know that -I- will benefit from completely removing such excesses from my life. The greatest truths we bring to the world are true for us first, and often we struggle to embody them. “The gift is near to the wound.”
That saturnine tooth broke in half, a mercurial wind blew over the nerve. The planets and stars sing symbols. The gods nudge me along toward the bounty of greater health and joy that my chains resist.