Writing with Rox WEEKLY—Is your moon also in the 8th house?

So I decided to have my astrological chart done. It was hard to follow, since what do I know from houses in Jupiter and such, but apparently I am in a restless phase and something big is supposed to come along in the next month. Additionally, turns out I'm not done with Pluto, I am obsessed with living, communicating, feeling, and expressing only the deepest, core, truths (I believe this is the Uranus in one of my houses speaking?), and I am basically doomed when it comes to relationships... unless I can... now what was that again?

But isn't this true for everyone, I asked?

Well, not really. Because my moon is watery and this lifetime is all about getting back to the womb.  Because my sun is friends with Mercury and Mars is my buddy, but my Venus doesn't get along with Saturn, unless Neptune is visiting. And, by the way, I'm an old soul, born in the final phase of the moon. The sliver, am I? The crescent? Now, this does explain my tendency to doodle out moons, crescents in particular, all over the place, perhaps accounting for the tattoo on my ankle, which is, likewise, in its final phase.

Oh, you too, you say? Well.

My feet are very, very tired. Are yours?

My job is to grow fins. Is yours?

My job is also to go back home, return to my roots, to origins, to God, to Source. Is yours?

I'm always trying to find home. I'll get there, but it will take some time. It will be complicated, but my job is buck up against dogma and find out what my origins did with their struggles along the way. 

You too?

The good news, the very good news, is I have a guardian angel. And my midheaven is up to something exciting and a big party is on its way.

Today in writing we wrote about what our "normal" is and what our "not normal" is. This exercise was further inspired by a student who came in and said she would never consider putting magnetic paint on her wall, which was shocking to me. Again, doesn't everyone paint on their walls?

But thankfully it isn't her normal. Because as we wrote and shared, I got to hear about her normal, her childhood tubing down the Rum River all the way to her doorstep. And about someone else's normal, full of mystical sin eaters and emerald majesty. Someone else's normal was begging to change, hungering for a new normal.

And that is why we write. Because my normal, crazy as it is, is normal to me. My normal is magnetic paint on the small wall, film projector paint on the big wall. My normal is getting my chart done just for the heck of it. My normal has mother issues, is vulnerable, addicted, allergic, compassionate, codependent, sensitive, drawn to instability, yet overly stable, committed, searching for freedom, out-of-my-body, in my body, creative, intuitive, passionate, apathetic, homeless, everchanging...

...isn't done with Pluto.

And sharing these normals when we write together—in their varied phases of bloom—we linger there until we recognize our miraculous belonging in this moment in time, amidst this vast, infinite, lonely, weightless, universe with multiple moons, heavens, holes, and empty houses, where we so easily could have gotten lost and disappeared behind the fallen stars.

WRITE WITH ME?

What is your normal?

What house is your moon in? 

What's doing with your horoscope?