The Light Bearer

Scorpio Sun and Aquarius Moon

This is my own combination so bear with me—the Sun and Moon here are square, which creates a deep schism in the personality. Any Sun and Moon that is square must balance a life of contradiction—there is no way around it, no way through it. One must embody the contradiction. The Scorpio Sun strives for depth and authenticity in everything—the Aquarius Moon does too. There is a relationship between the fixed signs (Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius) which are the symbols of the fullest expression of each season that actually underlies an unspoken understanding even while their ethos clash. Scorpio of course is the sexual sign as they say (though it's actually more primal), struggling with the tumult of desire, and contending with the draw of a powerful lower personality. A Scorpio Sun born to a family means that the repressed trauma of a family line must have out—the Scorpio will sense it, imbue it with his or her spirit, embody what everyone is afraid to name, and eventually release it. Such is the journey of consciousness granted to a Scorpio. That’s why all Scorpios begin lower, at the scorpion or lizard level, identifying with those traumatic elements of personality that their parents unconsciously cast onto them, and even their grandmothers suffered over them. The Scorpio Sun sign indicates that the soul-journey is begun out on the furthest rung of consciousness where there is a scary dearth of joy and activity. On the dead planet, Hades realm, furthest from the Sun, furthest from the hearth, beneath all light and warmth, a Scorpio begins. Even if she or he is the most joyous of children, there is a secret place, a realm made of walls of fear, or deep hurt, a kept secret trauma which is the impetus for many strange acts and obsessions locked behind a key in the Scorpio consciousness. The Scorpio is known for being lithe and powerful in body, for good reason—they have a memory of death, or total defeat—henceforth they move with a kind of ecstasy to be alive in the present moment, a key factor in their ability to rebirth. Unfortunately this love of being makes them prey to their lower desires at a young age, as these are very powerful, and the person moves through a kind of violence, a spasm of failure, back down to a base, cold, abandoned level of consciousness. There they mull over cause and effects, and are capable of abandoning an entire personality or trajectory for the sake of living again in their power—a process of recycling old demons and the past. The cycle of death and rebirth will repeat for a Scorpio until the person attains the wisdom of the dove, or eagle. Scorpios love shimmying up close as can possibly be to other people’s hearths, bringing with them this deep and untraceable energy earned in the coldest places of the psyche, where they’ve been born perhaps again and again out of bones. Many people are drawn to Scorpios for the destructive/constructive powers they embody, which crash down towers of dreams and lay bare true reality. So—going this journey with an Aquarius Moon ties to the Scorpio Sun a troubling asset as the Aquarius Moon is antithetical to the Scorpion nature. Whereas Scorpio is a sign of exile and return, lust and death, the Aquarius Moon is complete unto itself, water pouring into water. The Aquarian Moon is already home; this Moon exists beyond the reach of trauma and the earthly plane. We have a person here whose body is at the mercy of psychological pain yet whose deep heart remains absolutely free. That’s the chemistry for taking many risks, for fearing nothing. There’s a wisdom borne simply of bearing with such tension. The Scorpionic Sun acts for immersion, experience, to feel—it’s the trigger it needs for transformation—while on a whole other level the Aquarius Moon is synthesizing intense cognizance of the spirit. There’s a privacy to the deep emotion which strangely enough is not risked in sexual exploits. In fact the contradiction here is that the person may go to the depths, to dangerous depths, and be completely rational and conscious at the same time. There’s an inner reason for doing something—even for following the unconscious, so as to understand the depths. The life ultimately is about continuing to break down doors of consciousness, and tapping into deeper and deeper levels of authenticity, ebbing always closer to the source—to joy and light, a place ironically the person owns since the beginning. The Aquarius Moon is deeply nourished by solitude. It is one of the least needy of signs; it can live eating of its own spit, deep in its own spirit, well-fed on the myriad connective tissue of its own mind, and the downloaded bank of the whole of human history in the unconscious. Yet at the same time the earthy, embodied Scorpio Sun lives through physical strife and the lacerations of relationship. So there is a heart ready for sacrifice that bears an enlightened mind. There is something reserved in the person even in the closest relationships; one might say this person’s heart belongs to God, for that is the realm of the Aquarian Moon. Modern astrologers call it science, but the intrinsic chaotic connectivity of the universe is both science and spirituality’s realm. The Scorpio and Aquarius combination is one of water and air, like the mists of morning or a hurricane—the Moon functioning on a spinal cord line which fires up the brain first, and then the rest of the body. The Moon here is at the First Quarter, in a position contending with the rougher elements behind intention, when the tides both push and pull, halfway between the New and Full Moon.