Full Moon in Aquarius and a Summer of Love

“Let the sunshine in, Let the sunshine in…” – Hair soundtrack

I wasn’t around in 1967. So I don’t know what it was actually like at that first Human be-in, Golden Gate Park, January of 1967. But I’ve seen pictures of the Summer of Love. The Summer of Love was the consummation of a full scale social revolutionary marriage. True to Aquarian form, hippies weren’t capitulating with one another, but an ideal. It’s free love, man. The love was free that summer, so was food, drink and drugs. Everyone who danced to the beat of a different tribal drum came to San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury to follow their rainbow future. The style icon of the 21st century was born – a “hippie” in flamboyant costume and long uni-sex hair (as a nod to individualist and image-conscious Leo).

The Summer of Love was more than the passing patchouli whiff or bong hit of a social fad. It was outright war. On the Government, the Enemy. Summer Lovers rejected institutional values, practiced sexual liberation and started revolutions in art and spirituality. Eastern philosophy liberated minds, communal living liberated family units and non-traditional relationships liberated the missionary position. Truth to self reigned supreme. No one wanted to fight a war they didn’t believe in. Parents, government, almost every institution limited individual freedoms. For Aquarius, the rights of the individual needed to matter more than the popular Group think. This new Group had a manifesto everyone could agree on: love, peace and happiness, which gave free rein to a new kind of individual. Power to the people. A distinct shift was beginning; the equinox was precessing into the constellation of Aquarius.

So this all bubbled up on my way to a doctor’s appointment when to avoid the certain wait, I popped into a San Francisco art gallery. I viewed photos of the Summer of Love, families, friends, neighbors and children holding hands. In their solidarity, I saw people joined together in a journey. Their faces wore that certain recognizable look of purpose, a sense of mission. Barefoot and diverse, youthful, strong and confident. They were united by a common cause close to their hearts. I was struck by the passage of time, how much and little has changed. So much for progress. Are we any better off now than we were then?

I was also struck by the way people from a different slice of history, resembled people today. People are people. The effects of disease prevention and longer life-spans are negligible; we look little different from our ancestors. I felt deeply connected to the truth of my ancestral human lineage and proud to be apart of something so grand, exciting and true. An eerie feeling passed over me when the gallery director who kindly gave me le’ grand tour commented, “Look at them. The young and old, joined together taking to the streets in the name of love. Beautiful. Can you imagine? And with our government, the corruption and war…”

But the Summer of Love, the Sun in Leo, the Full Moon in Aquarius is about L-O-V-E. Or is it…Leo Sun puts sunshine in our hearts, our willpower shines bright and fun, times of easy self-esteem, play and leisure activities. Huh? Opposite to Leo, Aquarius balances Leo. Leo rips our hearts wide open with childlike joy and Aquarius challenges us to keep it open by throwing some real zingers of a Truth in there, like: P.S. we are collectively suffering. There are people dying from a war we don’t believe in. Our healthcare system has failed. There’s overwhelming poverty and a government who looks out for The Man. If, as a society we are judged by the way we treat our weakest members, we are failing. Love, Aquarius

Chiron is in Aquarius, near this Full Moon. We’ve got collective wounds and it’s time to heal them. If not now, please Goddess let’s heal before we end up battling our personal human rights with an uncaring HMO claim agent who denies our right to heal. Because after seeing Sicko last night, getting sick just isn’t an option. Over and over, the film prompted the Leo/Aquarius question: Does anyone care at all? Will we watch out for each other, or only ourselves? And (in America) how will we change things?

It’s the Leo-Aquarius dilemma, the axis of Love and Humanity. When we fall in love with Leo, we learn personal love. Loving one another well is rightly good. Falling in love starts heart revolutions. The romance and energy of Leo sets off soul/spirit firecrackers, and those electrical displays CAN travel through our chakras and out into the world where they can accomplish a world of good. But when we’re constantly “frightened and demoralized” by our cultural institutions, we’re fed fear, not love. How can we fall in love with our own strength and beauty when we’re in piles of debt? Beauracracy and lip service and disease are forms of government control. How can we even think about living in our luster (and so threaten toppling party powers) when we’re living in a culture of overload, overwork, stress and burned out adrenal glands?

Upon wondering on which country I’ll be relocating, this morning I had my own epiphany. The pivotal karmic lesson of my early life story was learning how to care for my physical and emotional body. During this time, I had no clue where to begin. I figured I must’ve been missing a chromosome: no one had taught me how to do this! As a Cancer Sun sign, self-care is a physical/spiritual work. My personal revolution, long story short, goes something like “before you can be good for another, you’ve got to be good to you.” It’s been a long road, but this manifesto continues to serve me well, as I’m sure it’s well served others. Then it struck me: a revolution starts with one wickedly powerful good intention. Then we let it do the inworking of a lifetime.

So the hippies of the Summer of Love started a revolution and it was ignited from within each person. That’s the fire of intent, the burning heart of Leo. Like any good social movement, their common intentionality drew them together. Their common purpose made them stronger, more powerful, lustrous individuals and that’s the meaning of strength in numbers. Passion without heart is heart-less (also known as obsessive, greedy). In my opinion, without heart, we’re swept up in a lost cause. So here’s my Full Moon prayer: May the strong-hearted geniuses be provoked and called forth this Aquarius Full Moon. And may we find the promise of love behind all injury. Help us find the strength in our solidarity. And be gentle on us (a literary nod to Eat, Pray, Love). If we do find a way out of this mess, it will be because we’ve learned to love ourselves despite the odds. And of course, learned to love others as we do ourselves.

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