The Friction Before the Eclipse
Salaam dear ones,
Tomorrow marks the First Quarter Moon (Feb 24). This is when the Sun and Moon first square off in the lunar cycle. This is the time where growth meets resistance. There is always friction here. It's a time when what gets seeded (what we imagined, what we hoped for) on the New Moon, gets tested against reality.
The First Quarter Moon always carries urgency because it is a crisis of action. The square between the Sun and Moon demands a new type of action from us. A new decision. Even a new perspective. This is the first turning point of the lunar cycle pointing us to a shift in direction. Something at this stage must clarify so we can refine or shift gears, as the Moon waxes towards its fullness.
So let me break down. There is a lot happening during this week leading up to the eclipsed Full Moon in Virgo (March 3). Mercury stations retrograde on the 26th. Mars in Aquarius squares Uranus in Taurus on the 27th. The atmosphere is unsettled and reactive.
There is real turbulence in the collective field. Real grief. Real anger. Systems are straining. Narratives are colliding. People are tired in their bones. The nervous system of the world is overloaded with one atrocity after the next, one tragedy after another.
Under ordinary skies, this First Quarter tension is more personal. Under these skies, it is both personal and collective. Mars square Uranus is like lightning striking dry earth, bringing sudden reactions and uncontrollable impulses. That's because this planetary aspect demands movement. It is the pressure that bursts the pipe.
You may feel the urge to say the thing. To cut the tie. To make the drastic change. To react to the shock of the moment with equal force. Mars in Aquarius agitates the social body; Uranus in Taurus destabilizes the material ground. Ideals are clashing with realities of survival. Progress is colliding with what feels familiar and secure. The result is a jangled frequency with sleep disruption, hyper-vigilance, patience running thin, being wired but tired.
This is especially so for those of us with sensitivity to the collective field. If you're here, reading this, then you're likely someone with such sensitivity. So the question this week becomes: how will you move inside all of this?
Mercury’s retrograde is thickening the air. In the sign of Pisces, it's coming after Saturn and Neptune's departure, holding us back on something unresolved. While communication may misfire at this time and old stories resurface (as they do with each retrograde), pay close attention to assumptions that you might be making at this time. Because this retrograde will feel as though clarity itself is becoming unreliable.
Think of this retrograde as a revision and not sabotage. This is a slowing of momentum around certainty so that we are forced to look again (and again).
Ask yourself:
What have I accepted without examination?
What story am I repeating that may no longer be true?
Where have I spoken too quickly or withheld what needed to be said?
And ahead of us, the Virgo eclipse waits. This is the last eclipse in Virgo for another 9 years.
As you know, eclipses accelerate timelines and expose fault lines, but in Virgo the exposure is precise. It reveals inefficiencies and misalignments. It shows where energy has been leaking quietly. Where we have overextended in the name of responsibility or collapsed into helplessness.
Virgo is not interested in spectacle. It is interested in integrity. Virgo refines, sorts, edits, tends with sharp focus and determination.
In times of collective upheaval, the temptation is to inflate our sense of duty, either crushing ourselves with the weight of responsibility or leaning into a saviour complex. Or the reverse can happen when we surrender to numbness. Virgo rejects both extremes, focuses on the next right thing. Not everything. Not all at once. Just the next right thing.
As we find ourselves amidst unbearable realities. It is futile to talk about hope naively in a moment like this. We can't talk about hope while denying the grief or bypassing the outrage. But neither can we let hope dissolve into nihilism.
True hope is disciplined presence. It is the refusal to let urgency hijack your integrity or moral consistency. It is choosing not to escalate when escalation would be easy. It is tending to your own nervous system so that you do not unconsciously amplify chaos.
You are not responsible for stabilizing the entire world. You are responsible for the quality of consciousness you bring to your sphere. From here, you make rooted decisions towards the next right thing.
So this week, as the Moon makes its way to its eclipsed fullness, what will you reinforce? What will you interrupt? What will you repair? What will you refuse to perpetuate?
It's true that the sky is volatile. But volatility is not doom or destruction. It is raw energy that can fracture. It can liberate. But we must be self-aware to move through such energies. Move deliberately. Stay embodied. Let discernment lead.
If you feel unsettled, please know that you are not alone. If you feel reactive, be kind to yourself. If you feel exhausted, honour the fact that your system is responding to the intensity.
May each of us trust that amidst this cosmic turbulence:
something is being revealed to us.
something is being corrected by us.
something is being cleared for us.
Even if it doesn't make sense at this very moment. Even if it feels impossible. Trust and have faith in what's unfolding.
with care,
Shadi