The New Moon in Libra arrives Saturday, October 10th at 11:50am Eastern.
If October has felt a little slow to you so far, more focused on tying up loose ends than generating new work, I’ve got good news: this moon is extremely supportive of Getting Your Groove Back.
At 17 degrees, the New Moon is coming off of an opposition to restrictive Saturn Rx in Aries, reflecting the stiffness we are relaxing out of, making a sextile to the far more expansive Jupiter in Leo. This has the energy of breaking free, of sudden expansion, of being appreciated for who you are.
The moon itself is ruled by Venus, currently retrograde in Scorpio, which embraces the art that comes from the depths and supports that which is on the margin, which is on the “outs,” which is unpopular, which is far from center.
Sometimes, the stakes for such art are high: the New Moon marks the final day of the annual Banned Books Week, an event which only becomes more urgent with each passing year. (Contrary to belief, being banned does not actually help banned books’ sales and disproportionately harms authors’ careers, so support your local banned authors and order/request their work from your local bookshops and libraries!)
But sometimes, the stakes for re-committing to the art that moves us are decidedly personal — and that which is small is in no way less meaningful.
This Venus Rx has seen me get seriously back into thrifting — a most literal Venus Rx activity, returning to and resurfacing that which had been discarded. Breathing second life into once-loved fashion and art and jewelry and home decor, all of which are the domain of Venus.
I’ve had complicated feelings about thrifting over the years. Growing up, my sister and I got everything secondhand, and I mean everything. My parents couldn’t afford to start buying us new clothes — and by “new” I mean exclusively the sales rack at JC Penney’s — until I was in high school. As soon as I got my first real job at the age of 15, I started buying my clothes new from Express and Gap.
As an adult, I turned down almost every friend who asked me to go thrifting. Buying clothing secondhand, in particular, brought up every feeling I’d ever had of being left out and bullied, of not-enoughness, of scarcity, of not having any other choice. Buying new clothes, even when I couldn’t quite afford them, made me feel powerful: like I was in control of my life, like I had options, like I wasn’t still that poor country girl wearing a clean and pressed but obviously old Easter dress.
Perhaps it’s unsurprising that my feelings about buying clothing secondhand have loosened significantly as I have more deeply addressed my relationship to money these last few years. Feeling more stable and solid financially (which I talked about at length on the recent Money Magic episode) has directly correlated to my own personal renaissance with thrifting: with frequenting my local vintage shops hunting for costume jewelry and jackets, with finding the most random, utterly delightful home goods on WhatNot.
Just because it’s someone else’s trash doesn’t mean it’s not your much-desired treasure.
Put another way, taste is subjective — and Venus Rx in Scorpio relishes this.
A personal example of embracing both thrifting and subjective taste: I’ve recently re-discovered my love of pink depression glass, so called because it was popularized during the Great Depression. My grandmothers both had so much of this growing up; I thought it was so elegant when I was a Barbie-obsessed little girl. Glass that was pink!
I didn’t learn until later that pink glass was extremely cheap, machine-made rather than handblown, often rife with imperfections like bubbles that glass collectors would never deign to touch.
I love it.
As I’ve started acquiring a few select pieces for my office (sourced exclusively from my best friend who sells on WhatNot as @mellygoesthrifting — if you’re on there, you should follow her!), I’ve been thinking about just how Venus Retrograde it is to love that of which you once were ashamed.
The color pink.
A particular kind of clothing you may have been shamed for wearing at church.
Thrifting itself.
This New Moon is a powerful time for us to re-commit to our own aesthetic taste as worthy and good simply because we love it.
To write in the genre you most love to read.
To send a voicey query letter that sounds like you instead of being drained of any personality by “professionalism.”
To wear whatever the fuck you want for your Author Photo and not worry about seeming respectable.
This New Moon in Libra, ruled by an underworld Venus, wants you to make the art that you most want to make, and to look how you most want to look, and to not give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks.
I believe in you.
I believe in us.
Happy New Moon.
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Also, on the subject of ~generating new work~ — I’ve got a new workshop, THE BOOK YOU WERE BORN TO WRITE, coming soon.
