When I met a Taurus Sun with a Scorpio Moon, it was a hazy time in my life. I remember not clear aspects but the violence of the train over iron tracks, which we could hear from her spare basement apartment and the chill despair of her stories. She had bottle-blonde hair cut as close to her scalp as Sinead O’Connor’s, a soft, bottle-like body, and a life of these messages enclosed and with her farewell kiss sent out to sea. The sea of other people’s dangerous consciousnesses—to which she was wildly drawn, or let herself be drawn, for she always had the power to choose. It is always a choice, the descent. With this aspect of the Full Moon in Scorpio, the Taurus is always out of the proverbial house, is seeking comfort always away from the threshold, in the cold night. You may not meet a person more haunted than this one. Though Taurus is a stable earthy sign, known for voluptuousness, sensuality, for enjoying the small, vital moments, because of the Scorpio Moon—the moments that the person is drawn to might look small but are enormously transcendent and unstable. Thus there’s a stark contradiction here—typical with Full Moons but here especially destructive, the earth being split in two, the Sun-Moon pairing of the earthquake itself. In Scorpio the Moon is in fall, meaning the emotional nature is forever going under, and the so-called best qualities of the Moon, that of calm, deep security, and a shining fullness, are here spread so wide, so thin, that there is a desperation to receive any nourishment at all. And yet the person will know such deep, almost obliterating satisfaction. In between periods of starvation. Yet these periods, even if the person does not realize it, are almost always self-imposed. The rocky inlet through which the sea of emotions is forced is ominous and restless, and the person’s entire nature is one of unconscious searching. And that is the reason that this Taurus, this sweet being whose nature is so inherently temperate, is never hanging up their hat—never getting to keep what it is they most crave, because of this relentless desire nature, and then that of course perpetuates the cycle of craving, satisfaction, and loss. The aspect of Full Moon between Sun and Moon is a hard aspect, when the two are in opposition, like a seesaw, so the person knows very well both sides, living at one and then the other, and then the time of crisis which represents the ‘crossing over.’ With a Scorpio Moon, the Moon is an even more powerful draw than the Sun, and so this person is extremely lunar, and at times possessed by their emotional nature. It is the most powerful Moon of the zodiac—the Scorpio Moon in Full. There’s so much intense awareness that emanates from this Moon, informing the person with immense intuition, all behind a curiously calm, collected, Taurean exterior. The person might have very simple wants, too, so they think, but then they will find themselves going completely off the rails. It will take many experiences, many ‘crossings’ until the person releases some of these ancestrally powerful demons that their spirits have bravely chosen to exorcise in this life, before the person at all experiences the higher nature of Scorpio. At first the higher nature is mere regeneration, the fact that having gone so far off the deep-end, they can heal, they can return to the fray, to their needs, to the game of love. It is even more difficult to rise out of the lower Scorpionic nature with the Moon in Scorpio than it is with the Sun, for the Sun is the symbol of reason—it is all about making conscious. The Moon, however, need never be conscious, need never really be met, except in intimacy, and intimacy is almost always best enjoyed in secret. Of course this person is the most skilled with the hands, and their body-sensors are magnificently sensitive. The world of tantric bliss is most definitely open to them. They are sensitive to the feeling of the earth, too, the motion of seasons bringing ecstatic states or depressive ones, and the coarse city or the abundant country producing its own effects too. The range of athleticism from the shot put to the erotic dance is all theirs to master as is the eventual, total elevation of the spirit. For it is in the act, the sliver between two states that this person is most vibrationally alive. So as my friend, dolefully smoking her cigarette, and singing her lusty heart out in weed-choked recording studios at night, would recount to me—she cannot help it, the men she let take over her life who, though they were obsessed with her, were drawn to cheat. Yet she sang about it. She communicated with her soul through these acts, and it is a dark, a stirred soul.