the full moon in libra for writers
with writing prompts
Hi everyone,
I opened for readings this week, and y’all booked me out in 3 hours (!!!). I’m stunned and grateful and so excited to work with you.
Reminders! How to Write a Book Proposal is open for registration (starts in May). Also, LGBTQIA+ writers: my annual publishing Q&A is in 12 days! My agent, Dana Murphy, will be joining us. The event is totally free, and there are no sales pitches or anything, it’s just for your questions, but registration is required.
And now! Happy Full Moon in Libra. (This one is heavier on the astro side.)
Jeanna
If we simplify it to its most base, the Aries/Libra axis could be described as the “me/we” axis. Psychological astrology considers Aries as the archetypal infant entering the world, raw to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, boldly exploring the world around them, discovering things for the first time, alternately fearless when putting a hand on a hot stove and ferocious in crying for a loved one’s attention. In this framework, Libra is the young adult, beginning to understand themselves in relationship to others, perhaps wobbly when considering the emotional scales of how much to give to others and how much to keep for themselves, but well aware there is a sociocultural world that exists outside of them, their family, and the society they were raised in, and desirous of navigating it.
But things are never so simple, because the boldness of archetypal Aries goes unappreciated without a society that rewards their endeavors, and Libra’s ability to cultivate relationships with the world and contribute culturally will not flourish at their full potential without knowledge of their inner “me.”
This morning at 12:34am Eastern, there was a Full Moon in Libra. Every Full Moon, in every season, presents a moment of tension. Astrologers, myself included, like to talk about how full moons are moments of completion, reward, and even release in the lunar cycle, how something in life over these last six months, since last New Moon (in Libra, on September 25, 2022) has come to fruition and is now going out with the tide. And that is true.
But Full Moons are also tension, as Full Moons always occur in the opposite sign of the season. In the days leading up to them, the day of, the days after, we all are thrust into the axis of the oppositional signs of the season: Taurus and Scorpio, which bring about birth/creation or death/transformation; Gemini and Sagittarius, which highlight how we access knowledge through poetry or philosophy, through curiosity or zealotry; Cancer and Capricorn, both of which care about security but which focus on the private realm vs. the public sphere of our lives; and Virgo and Pisces, which I often call the axis of healing, alternately medicinal and spiritual. The oppositional pairs share interrelated concerns, but tend to have a profoundly different approach for going about those concerns.
So here, we are in Aries season, where, for writers, courage is favored, whether that means independently going out and doing research in libraries or the woods or wherever your work takes you, pitching agents and editors and folks you want to collaborate with, working yourself into a dervish on a new project, traveling for inspiration, or otherwise doing those activities that most, for you, follows your gut instinct — which may, in the utmost “fuck you” spirit which goes against a capitalist society, include honoring a season of rest.
But here comes this Libra Full Moon, which suddenly, for these few days, asks us to include other people — as if that is not the default, already, of so many in this world, as if the call for honoring the self in Aries season is not difficult enough without it suddenly seeming like we are being asked to take a backseat to others’ needs instead of our own. (Which isn’t what Libra is about, but can feel like it in this tender moment.) We have a clue, however: this Full Moon is opposite Chiron, the wounded healer, bringing to light, perhaps, historically difficult relationships or spaces where it has been difficult for the “me” to shine through, where the “me” in the “we” has not been honored. Whether those spaces were a graduate program or a writers’ group, a family or a romantic relationship, they are something to hold tenderly and to be aware of today as you consider your creative self and your work over these next few days.
Even though it doesn’t always feel like it, there is space for the “me” and the “we.”
Writing Prompts for the Full Moon in Libra
What areas of your life is it easiest for you to commit to yourself to, to maintain that “me” in? What parts of your life feel more like a “we”, like there are obligations to other people? How does this impact your creative practice, your writing? How does this balance feel for you?
Look at the Libra house of your chart. This will tell you more about what topics the Full Moon is bringing up for you (e.g., if you’re a Virgo Rising, Libra would be your 2nd house of personal finance, value, and such; if you’re an Aquarius Rising, Libra would be the 9th house of publishing, teaching, religion, travel, and such). Specifically, consider what has grown, come to completion, or otherwise been fulfilled — or let go of! — over these last 6 months since the New Moon in Libra on September 25, 2022.
Thank you for reading this edition of astrology for writers. I am a working writer, and this newsletter is only possible because of folks who support my work with paid subscriptions, which, to me, is rather like a Patreon — an indication of support. If you are interested and able, you can do so here.