FULL MOON at 3°33′ Virgo, Monday 22 February, 18:20 UTC
Virgo Full Moon
Ah… Full Moon time again – time of culminations and realisations. On this, most widely-moonlit evening of the month, we are welcome to either celebrate our successes or accept that we must divest our failures. For those most affected (at 3°34′ on the Virgo/Pisces axis) it marks a crucial turning point – one that provides the impetus to do some major, heavy-duty reflection on our best (and worst) bits, and then to make a decision on whether a venture must end, or we collect the dividends with full satisfaction (see your full horoscope for details).In ancient times our ancestors revered and took great heed of the significance of these lunations, and, of course, many of them planned their lives accordingly. These days we hardly even pay attention to the night sky, and we deny our instincts like they are some form of regressive primordial disorder. Yet, if we looked carefully at just the lunation cycle alone, we might immediately identify a basic pattern in the effect these New and Full Moons have upon the more significant, personal affairs in our lives.
This Full Moon in Virgo significantly falls just short of the Uranus/Pluto direct midpoint, and precedes a Solar Eclipse 18° 55 Pisces (Mar 9). The Moon is also in opposition to the Ceres/Neptune conjunction in Pisces.
Some of the main themes raised by the Virgo/Pisces Moon – Sun axis are:
- separation vs unification
- work vs leisure
- employment vs unemployment
- duty vs karmic affliction
- functionality vs art
- health vs illness
- accountability vs escapism
- evidence vs lies
- presence vs invisibility
- attainable vs alternative realities
Virgo and the great dilemma of over-efficiency
Virgo is a mutable/earth sign:
- mutable implying that we are in the process of adapting, plying and moulding, working with, fine tuning, communicating across
- earthy as in the practical and physically tangible sense
So in many ways Virgo is about working with the earth, or the physical. Working effectively, efficiently, economically, it seeks physical assurance through diligence and conformity, purity through cleanliness, tidiness or chastity, paying careful attention to fine craftsmanship and dutiful care of things like health, nutrition, daily processes, and when overdone there can be an excessive care – a worrying attitude, anxiety or a fastidiousness that borders dangerously close to pedantry.
In the last 50-60 years, through the growing integration of machinery, computers and electronic equipment into our workplaces (both business and domestically) we have seen an enormous improvement in our ability to raise our collective productivity and effectiveness in just about every area, and as such, at this quarter-juncture of this great Uranus/Pluto cycle, have created a burgeoning economic crisis in our obsessive pursuit into the realms of output productivity, over-efficiency of resources and labour. So much so that we have flushed away a great deal in order to ‘get the job done’. We have glorified the working culture, perfected the ‘working class’, learnt to measure national/cultural success via its GDP index, streamlined the time management of our entire lives, and in doing so we have all but cursed the more nebulous mysteries of life altogether, like dreaming, resting, healing and merging into one another’s lives without asking for distinct definition about what we want and how useful or how practical anything is.
In our hyperbolic mania to become super-efficient we have taken this whole ‘civilization’ deal to an outrageously unsustainable level by specialising every aspect of our functioning. Such increased specialisation means fewer people can see the big picture, and most of us are at the point now where we are all somewhat caught up like cogs in the excruciating minutia of the productivity machine, our practical value and performance being monitored more by computers than other humans. Our efforts are measured against the most competitive global value, and as the world becomes more desperate to compete in the labour market, our time, and level of craftsmanship have become gradually diminished in worth. Of course, as machines gradually take over our everyday processes, we slowly become redundant, and by today’s measurements many of us may feel practically useless if unable to fit back into the machine.
This is naturally not so good for the spirit.
Hence, whilst the overall output of product is increasing in volume, lack of human involvement results in a product which is diminishing in both quality and value. We are mechanically churning out disposable products at a consumer rate which has become economically unsustainable.
In short, we have become a species that is effectively mass producing its own disposable obsolescence, mostly because we have engineered the human service, craftsmanship and qualities of love and specialised care out of our own culture. How sad. . .
We have imbued awful limitations in our ability to create a genuinely sustainable quality of life into our world, because in the pursuit of trying to become efficient, we have over-produced everything – including ourselves. And now, the world is swarming with a sea of spare, human parts – looking for a machine to fit into. Yet, the machine seems to be increasingly running fine without you, thank you.
These limitations did not begin in the 1960’s. They trace back to the beginning of civilisation when man decided to give up his nomadic ways and become a farmer.
The advent of agriculture defined the beginning of our limitations as a species. Not only did we immediately narrow our dependence of survival upon just a handful of plant species, we began to concentrate our population’s impact all in one place. We built fortresses to prevent the starving outsiders from stealing any of our surplus food, amassed armies to kill those who were not directly involved in food production, began to farm (not hunt) animals for food and labour, created a class of wealthy and elite to rule over the ‘labourers’, and set an ever expansionist culture upon an invasive, aggressive sprawl to seize and conquer the surrounding lands. Finally, thanks to global capitalism, six of our ‘finest’ families have managed to own the entire world.
How long did that take?
About 10,000 years. Prior to agriculture humans were nomadic, and our understanding of nature and its phenomenal diversity of lands, cultures, species, peoples and choices spread far and wide.
So, are we at the end of civilisation?
Of course we are. We have exhausted it. Agriculture is about to fail us due to dramatic climate change (hole in ozone layer). Our global currency is shifting from the $dollar$ – used to trade in stock and commodities to oil, arms, and balance of political power. This ties in with massive infrastructure changes in all sections of government, corporations, clergy, financial systems whose emphasis has moved further away from tending to the people that support them to defending and maintaining the functional efficiency of their power structure. And our leaders? Where are our leaders?
In the past 500 years we have progressed from the Dark Ages to the Renaissance, to the Age of Enlightenment, to the Industrial Age and the now the rise of computer technology and robotics… within just a few centuries the human race has become ever so pathological in its climb to reach a level of ultimate efficiency that it has become inexorably ill – emotionally speaking. Socially our species has become diseased by our convergence into cities beyond millions; tens of millions of humans; all packed together, living on top of one another, scrambling to ‘get busy ‘ and ‘produce’ some ‘GDP’ within a single concentrated location.
Our industrial capacity to extract megatons of resources from under oceans, deserts, rainforests, sides of mountains, fracking rock layers and farming vast fields of genetically processed crops is phenomenal. So much indeed that our population has exactly doubled since 1965 from 3.6 billion to 7.1 billion. According to statistics, we’re all better off – wealthier and busier.
Everyone is busy. Too busy.
And yet, curiously… everyone is broke. Or broken . . .