Agency, Focus, and Ritual
On the Aries-Virgo Antiscia
In just a few hours (as of this publication, Thursday evening) we’ll have an eclipse in Virgo, a peak moment amidst a tumultuous spring. Virgo is traditionally ruled by Mercury, who is currently stationing retrograde in Aries, and so this eclipse highlights the relationship between Virgo and Aries, which are actually in relationship with one another via antiscia, a subtle but powerful method that looks at signs that have the same amount of sunlight.
The idea behind antiscia is that there’s a sort of mirror put up in the zodiac that runs through the solstices, and the signs which experience the same height of the sun are in a mirrored relationship to each other. At the top, Cancer and Gemini seasons mirror each other (and more specifically, 1° Cancer and 29° Gemini, 2° Cancer and 28° Gemini, and so on), and therefore have a subtle relationship with each other. Leo mirrors Taurus, Virgo Aries, Libra Pisces, Scorpio Aquarius, and Sagittarius Capricorn. These relationships make sense, huh?1 Traditionally, these antiscion relationships are thought to be beneficial, like a trine or sextile—there’s a kinship between these points where the sun shines for the same length of time.2 Thus, analyzing the kinship between Virgo and Aries can be helpful in navigating this eclipse moment (and the eclipse is nearly exactly conjunct the Mercury/Venus conjunction via antiscia).
On face value, this lunar eclipse, a blood moon, in Virgo, represents a fullness and a culmination of the Virgo archetype. Virgo energy is strong, and therefore putting it to use via ritual, cleaning, organization, study, or planning is a good idea. This intensity can lead toward frustration and excess, though, which is represented by the blood moon—at these moments, the moon gets displayed in a rare, atypical light. Something can be eclipsed, released, or understood in more fullness and subtlety than a normal perspective gives.
Virgo’s shadowy extreme is well encapsulated in the stereotypical depiction of Virgo as neurotic and excessively focused on detail, which can certainly be the case. Virgo’s strong sense of quality and insistent specificity is connected to their sharp diagnosis of what’s needed, requiring things to be just right, as if it were a sacred ritual or medical procedure. This pointedness is mirrored by the sharp directedness of Aries. Aries, ruling the head and eyes, describes our point of focus and impact. It’s the tip of a sword or the bull’s eye. This Virgoan fixation on detail is either a nuisance to others or a gift to be employed by others. For Virgos themselves, though, the worst elements of it, when they really start tweaking out, it comes forth when they don’t have agency or independence—terms that we would typically associate with Aries, the individualist of the zodiac.
We can track down this need for self-ownership as an intrinsic part of Virgo, though. Before virginity meant sexual chastity, it meant a state of being “unowned,” especially describing the Vestal Virgins, who were the unmarried temple priestesses responsible for upkeeping rituals and keeping lit the sacred hearth fires at the center of cities. This herstory/mythology is encapsulated in the asteroid Vesta, whose astrological glyph is of a sacred flame in an ornamental vessel. While the Roman iteration of these Vestal Virgins were indeed hellbent on sexual chastity, other renditions of this unowned priestess culture in the ancient world included sacred sex work, which casts the idea of a christos being born of a virgin in a different light than we’re used to. And indeed, Vesta pops up prominently in the charts of figures in our modern world with strong sexualities, incapable of being completely tethered.
My colleague Olivia Pepper, a Virgo Sun, has compared the unhealthy form of Virgoan neuroticism to the self-destructive behaviors of trapped animals. Perhaps for many, a monastic life is a way to maintain sovereignty. Likewise, we can view a broader need for agency and freedom in our lives as essential to the Virgoan quest—not just freedom for it’s own sake, but the necessity to be in service to what one loves, to the deity of one’s choosing, or else things get out of control. Ritual is a way that we seek or claim this agency. Rituals of purification could be seen as gestures toward freedom from fetters. Rituals concentrate and empower us, magnifying our inner light. Even many of our unconscious or unhealthy habits could be included in this picture. We take a smoke break or a long trip to the bathroom at work in order to get a breath of fresh air, a taste of freedom or to grope after a connection to this sacred flame.
The central focus of this object of devotion is also key. This organizing light, too, is a mirroring of the Aries pointedness, except the central focus can be related to as an intimate subject or divine ideal as well as a goal or objective. This vital flame, this heat and light, is the power behind any successful ritual or rhythm. Our habits and routines become stale when this motivating fire loses its light. Perhaps the ideal is too far removed to be attained, no longer as central as we thought, or simply our devotions are insufficient to keep the dream alive.
Both the eclipse in Virgo and Mercury’s station retrograde on Saturday morning suggest a recalibration of our rituals and rhythms. As Mercury still has three weeks to go of their retrograde, perhaps we’d do well to just stare into a fire and contemplate our heart’s desire, listening to how we could move closer to it before rushing to implement any new tactics. Likewise, since Venus (who has triplicity dignity in Virgo) is retrograde alongside Mercury, there is an invitation to approach these Virgoan patterns in more of an artistic and social manner than a solely mechanical manner. This spring will bring a powerful new beginning, as Neptune and then Saturn cross the Aries point. Working with this Virgo energy in a reverent and clear manner can help draw that onrush of fire into a steadier flame, one that permeates and renews our life, in a sustaining mnner.
I hope these musings were helpful! As always, please reach out for a reading, if that calls to you.
Warmth,
Charlie
The alchemist/biodynamic gardener Dennis Klocek actually found that this mirroring happens in nature, with plants’ spring buds breaking and fall leaves’ falling at these antiscia moments, the days of the year on either side of the solstices with the same amount of solar light. https://biodynamic-guild.simplecast.com/episodes/ep-12-dennis-klocek-soil-soul-and-spirit
There also exists such a thing as contra-antiscia, wherein signs are reflected across the equinox points, with the amount light being exactly opposite or complementary. Aries and Pisces, Taurus and Aquarius, Gemini and Capricorn, Cancer and Sagittarius, Leo and Scorpio, Virgo and Libra. These contra-antiscion points are said to be able to “hear” one another, with there being a sort of hierarchical relationship, the brighter signs being more dominant.