The headlines are abuzz about the Great American Eclipse—a total solar eclipse, a New Moon on steroids—occurring today. Unfortunately, it’s not close to where I live, so I won’t see it live, but it does bring to mind the experience of seeing the other Great American Eclipse of 2017 – my first. As they say, we never forget our first.
As we ride the Lunar Nodes dragon of this eclipse season, I invite you to call on your inner Khaleesi of Game of Thrones fame and sit at the head of the dragon as the badass that you are. Plus, it’s way more stable to sit at the head of a dragon than on the tail.
The head of the dragon is the North Lunar Node that is currently in Aries, joined by the Sun, Moon, and our wisest of centaurs: Chiron. The keyword here is wise, which invites us to take wise (Chiron) courageous action (Aries). Plus we ride into battle formation into new and unexplored territories with our courage and gumption as riding companions. What new territory in your life are you being beckoned to explore? It doesn’t have to be something external; inner-world exploration often takes more courage. Keep in mind, this is not the time to sit at the tail of the dragon (aka South Lunar Node) and be whipped about by relationship dynamics that no longer serve (compliments of the shadow side of Libra where the South Lunar Nodes are traversing.) Think of relationships that are not equal in power, have wispy boundaries, and were set on people-pleasing dynamics that don’t serve your individuation.
Another image that connects to eclipses is portals into another part of our multiverse.
A couple of other ingredients compound this: this was a leap year (I feel an extra day stirs the imagination to step into another realm of possibilities), and right now, we also have our good old friend Mercury doing its retrograde dance in Aries. Mercury is even more ‘thresholdy’ as a Trickster god of thresholds when it’s doing its version of Michael Jackson’s Moonwalk dance. It’s an invitation to take a sideway step into another dimension of seeing and perceiving. Drop the prescribed rules of how things must be seen and peek underneath. It is a good way to honor Mercury Retrograde in Aries.
It’s like we have a portal open for those of us who are open to seeing, like the folks who could see those 3D images that were all the rage in the 90s. (Unfortunately, I could never see it as much as I tried to blur my vision!)
You see, eclipses are about seeing – differently.
While something is ‘eclipsed’ – covered – another is revealed. As the Sun is covered, our solar, Apollonian principle of clarity and light, is blocked by the Moon, a much smaller object, but in the proper distance and position, can fit just right, and in doing so, reveals what we can’t usually see in the clear light of day. Thanks to the Moon, the lunar principle of the emotional and imaginal realms, we get to see our Sun’s hidden crown and our environment from a different experiential perspective. It’s an invitation to see with your inner vision, that is able to hold various shades of shadow and not be so sharp in splitting light from dark. Moonshadow is more evocative than the sharpness of the Sun. For those who yearn for constant light and clarity, the experience of an eclipse is jarring because one is taken to a realm that may feel like an Upside Down world, a ‘bizarro’ land where one has the opportunity to see what was previously hidden from view due to the Sun’s blinding light. We see what was hidden in plain light.
I mostly remember witnessing the Great American Eclipse of 2017—the quality of this ephemeral darkening light and the eerily magical silence that descended all around as the animals quieted down. Even the dog that had been barking near us at the park we were at stopped making a ruckus as the totality of the eclipse grew. Nature knew that something was not as it was, and I felt a feeling of reset.
“Turn sideways into the light…”
Years ago, I saw the poet David Whyte up on Whidbey Island. He mentioned that when the Tuatha de Danaan, a supernatural race of ancient Ireland, went to battle with the island’s new invaders, the Milesians (likely Celts from the Iberian peninsula and I’d like to think my ancient ancestors), and sensing that they were about to lose, they “turned sideways into the light.” From that, moving from ‘here’ to another ‘dimension’ – sideways – they established a new order: they, the Tuatha de Danann, would rule a world parallel to ours (i.e., the Otherworld), and the Milesians would rule this known world.
This story of how the Tuatha de Danann lost to the Milesians in battle resonates with the North Node in Aries, joined by Chiron—the wound and the healing. The Tuatha de Danann save themselves from utter destruction by moving sideways into another world that is linked with ours but is also another world entirely. It takes courage, an Aries quality, to move into another dimension of engagement (Libra).
This moving into another way of perceiving and being also reminds me of how, for the Celts, the Otherworld wasn’t ‘far away,’ but right next to ours. To get there, what was needed was one’s way of seeing, and they could easily cross into it. In the story of Prince Pwyll of Dyfed in the First Branch of the Mabinogi in Welsh mythology, he struck a deal with Arawn, lord of the otherworldly kingdom of Annwn, to trade places for a year. His journey to the Otherworld of Annwn takes little effort, for all he has to do is keep riding his horse further until he arrives there. There is no prominent magic, ritual, or accessories to get him there.
I share these two examples to illustrate how other possibilities and ways of being are right next to ours, and we don’t need mental acrobatics to get there. What we do need is a subtle sideways turn towards it.
This is the otherworldly nature of eclipses: an opportunity to loosen our grip on our way of being or seeing and to welcome something more subtle and life-changing.
It’s also a way to bridge the head of the dragon in Aries with its tail in Libra. For you see, it’s when we move towards the growing edge of the North Node in Aries with courage that we can then uncover the gifts of the South Node in Libra of more diplomatic and equitable relationships, aka a balance of power in our relational dynamics. Otherwise, without Aries, we flounder in the shadow aspect of Libra, which is often manifested in covert people pleasing.
Plus, remember our friend Mercury. As our Liminal Guide at our border crossings, we can call on it to guide us between these two worlds. When we need guidance at the threshold, and we do, Mercury is our guy. You need a guide with special skills to navigate this unfamiliar terrain when you’re at the threshold. One’s upper-world resume will not do here because what’s required is other ways of knowing and perceiving, and perception is what our Mercury helps us do.
So, on this eclipse, evoke your inner vision to help you see the world around you with a new perspective. Look around you and invite your imagination to help you see how the magic of the Otherworld is woven with ours. Let your perception move sideways, perhaps blur your vision as if you were looking at those 3D images from the 90s, and you might just see the ancient Tuatha de Danann in your own backyard.
Below is the poem from David Whyte for your enjoyment. Let it be your companion to this eclipse season.
TOBAR PHADRAIC
Turn sideways into the light as they say
the old ones did and disappear
into the originality of it all.
Be impatient with easy explanations
and teach that part of the mind
that wants to know everything
not to begin questions it cannot answer.
Walk the green road above the bay
and the low glinting fields
toward the evening sun, let that Atlantic
gleam be ahead of you and the gray light
of the bay below you, until you catch,
down on your left, the break in the wall,
for just above in the shadows
you’ll find it hidden, a curved arm
of rock holding the water close to the mountain,
a just-lit surface smoothing a scattering of coins,
and in the niche above, notes to the dead
and supplications for those who still live
.
But for now, you are alone with the transfiguration
and ask no healing for your own
but look down as if looking through time,
as if through a rent veil from the other
side of the question you’ve refused to ask.
And you remember now, that clear stream
of generosity from which you drank,
how as a child your arms could rise and your palms
turn out to take the blessing of the world.
TOBAR PHADRAIC
In RIVER FLOW: New and Selected Poems
© David Whyte and Many Rivers Press
Photo Credits:
Main image: Jongsun Lee – via Unsplash
Subsequent images: Kamesh Vedula, Nat Osrr, Ivan Diaz, and Pawel Czerwinski via Unsplash
