moving to beehiiv! on the full moon in scorpio

This is a surprisingly ~chill~ Scorpio moon, for all that Scorpio is ever chill. Perhaps it’s because the last eight years of Scorpio lunations have inevitably involved Uranus, who for an age sat in Scorpio’s opposite sign of Taurus. But this Scorpio Full Moon is, finally, Uranus-free, and thus able to move at its own pace: slowly, steadily, strategically — and without unexpected interference.

Sometimes our new-to-full moon six month journeys are internal. Sometimes they’re external, and quite obvious. The house of the birth chart that the lunation falls in can sometimes indicate how “loud” or “obvious” a lunation is, or will show up as, in the life. Lunations that fall in angular houses (1st, 4th, 7th, 10th) — so, for this full moon, Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, and Aquarius risings — can be more obvious with how they show up in a life.

As an Aquarius rising, this Scorpio lunation — like the New Moon before it — lands in my tenth house of career and reputation, of long-term vision and legacy. Notably, six months ago, I started emailing with beehiiv about migrating this newsletter to their platform. Now, I am finally initiating that process. There are many, MANY reasons for this migration, which I will discuss at length soon in a followup essay to the one that brought so many of you here in the first place.

(quick note to say that you don’t need to do anything in this moment! I just want to share, for transparency’s sake, that this migration process is officially beginning.)

However, I do want to share up front that I will soon be cleaning out my subscriber list, releasing the many emails of folks who signed up for this newsletter but have never once opened it. To me, it is far better to have an engaged list that is smaller than a larger list full of folks who ignore every email.

Scorpio is the compost. The collection of bone and sediment at the bottom of an old well or lake. Scorpio is that most charnal of spaces — the beach — where lapping water (in its own way “fixed” as the tide!) leaves its mark, washing up the remains, the leftovers, the detritus, the dead.

Fitting that this sign is ruled by action-oriented Mars, who in Scorpio shows off his capabilities as strategist: the witch who scries into the still water of a mirror, casting her vision forward in order to better tackle the present. That the planet most associated with conflict and war, and consequently with death, is also so often the Initiator of rebirth.

Of course initiating a platform migration on the Scorpio Full Moon would begin with a release ritual, AKA clearing out unengaged subscribers, releasing people who are not engaged with my work and who perhaps never were, embracing shrinkage in order to ultimately EXPAND.

That old aphorism “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” is a phrase that kept coming through, as did the Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale, that process of spinning straw into gold (or, if we think of the Christian mythos, Jesus turning water into wine).

We are deeply encouraged, too, in embracing this Composting process because the moon will spend the day moving toward a productive trine with Jupiter in Cancer. This increases our capacity while buffering us from the scorpion’s sharpest point, helping us to constrict and expand with more ease and certainly more optimism.

Here on this Scorpio Full Moon, where we allow ourselves the stillness to process and the freedom to move at our own pace, I offer a Mary Oliver, “The Uses of Sorrow,” as a benediction:

P.S. While you do not need to do anything about migration up front, please check the nature of your subscription! If you are subscribed as “read only in app,” then I cannot take you with me! Tom Cox has written at length about his own frankly horrific migration experience, which I think is worth reading: