As an introvert, with a cluster of vulnerable Cancer planets assembled all around my Mid-Heaven (MC), I doubt I’ll ever feel comfortable in the spotlight. Yet my progressed Sun, and MC, my evolving self and “calling card”, respectively, in the extroverted, notice-me sign of Leo, has impelled far more charisma from me than even I thought possible. So, as my progressed MC moves into Virgo in little over a month (a once every thirty-year shift), I honestly feel something akin to relief. Like Brigitte Bardot, the French actress, model and singer who decided to turn her focus from acting and showbiz to animal rights projects… I’ve already begun hanging up that Leo costume.
The Mid-Heaven comes with a set of expectations, even projections, from others about the contributions you are here to offer the world. At times, I’ve felt dreamed into a star role, urged, reluctantly on my part, toward an ever-shifting bright spotlight. It’s been a fun, often celebratory, ride. But despite all her panache, being the performer, isn’t something I deeply enjoy.
Yet it’s been life-changing. Without having taken the fierce risk of sharing my creative self, all of my books and writing would remain as they had begun: in journals. Without Leo urging my Cancer imagination to “put it out there”, “have fun with it” and “show the world what you’ve got”, I’d never had started my very first full moon mailing back in 2002. Without allowing myself to playfully explore astrology in new and experimental ways, I wouldn’t have taken the chance of starting this website. Without the thought, maybe it would feel good to have an audience… I’d never have found the audacity to publicly share my creative enthusiasms, my self, with you.
Even if, looking back, I cringe at some of my over-the-top-and-brimming-with-enthusiasm writings, I thank Goddess that I didn’t stop too long to second-guess myself, because that just isn’t in the spontaneous spirit of Leo. Excruciating self-consciousness is a dimmer switch for the Lion’s light. Only in an atmosphere of generosity and playfulness can we discover the breadth of our talent, our largesse.
Sure, there are plenty of people who obtain notoriety based on charisma and style over substance; that’s certainly a shadow of Leo, but I’d say an even bigger shadow of Leo is our tendency to sell our selves short, to accuse our selves of getting too big for our britches, to even to deny our self the right to have thoughts, opinions, and abilities we believe are worth sharing – particularly as women. If a shadow of Leo is unearned bravado, the bigger one is feeling we don’t deserve to take up the space. After all, if its those with the largest mouths and egos (not largest talent, creativity or intellect) who are dominating the world stage right now… Why are you waiting for permission to shine?
Leo New Moon presents the invitation to each and every one of us to be far more audacious, and far less perfectionistic, about sharing our unique genius with the world. Maybe the first step to doing so involves something small, like changing up our hair style, painting our nails a vibrant notice-me color, or singing karaoke– despite what we think someone else might think about us. Leo magic only works when we risk looking silly! Trying to look cool tends to dampen the fun.
Steven Forrest once wrote, “To perform for the world is to trust it. That unquestionable trust in life is Leo’s Holy Grail.” Some funny things I learned about being on the stage: Not only do you learn that you will not die from stage fright- you learn the world really is a friendlier place than you thought. Despite the endless chatter of criticism and judgment we tell our self, and project onto others, performing and expressing has a sort of alchemy to it. You learn people actually want to see you succeed; that you don’t have to be perfect, just real; and that you, just as much as anyone else, deserve to take up space and shine. (And ooh, the outfits, the costumes! Every performer needs to be well-styled for their role, and my natal Venus-MC conjunction loves showing off her style).
Lately, I’ve been having a hard time contacting the radiant, playful spirit of Leo. This makes sense; Mars’ long sojourn through Scorpio has been grueling. Psychologically-oriented Scorpio is square fun-loving Leo, by sign. Mars moves from Scorpio to Sagittarius at this New Moon! We are ready to let go of private emotional struggles, crisis, death… and get on with living. Let’s say sayonara to any grief, loss and regret, do our best to forgive any tortures we’ve endured at our own hands or that of others’, and celebrate life again with the renewing power of a fiery New Moon beginning. As our energies shift to exploratory, enthusiastic Sag, adventures await. And with Leo, when we risk stepping out on the stage and sharing our self with the world, life smiles warmly back.