The Full Moon in Scorpio and the Silence Within Us

The Scorpio Moon teaches us that the answers we seek are not outside of us, but in the stillness we find within.

Tonight, May,18,2019, the Full Moon from the constellation of Scorpio is shining above the oceans, and seas, and lakes. Its rays touch the creases of the waves, then dive deep until reaching the bottom of the water.

Scorpio, a sign that rules over death, rebirth, and spiritual transformation, governs the eighth house of sex, taboos, taxes, creation, and destruction. The Scorpio Full Moon amplifies our urgencies for freeing, cleansing, and transforming our lives.

The verb to unform has been trapped in my mind. I've thought whether the idea to unform what I no longer need or like would be an act of destruction or a way to find new forms and meanings?

I read online about what the Scorpio Full Moon wants from us: to shed any layers of false identities, mistaken definitions, inherited dogmas or fears. The Scorpio Moon asks us to liberate.

It is in the moment of stillness between our inhales and exhales where the liberation happens.

Retreat. Within.

Breathe. Repeat.

Dive. Deep.

“The Scorpio energy is not concerned with what we do, but rather with how we do it,” the article said.

I always worry whether the story I write is exciting enough, or whether it is at all worthy of telling. Instead, I should think more about how I am going to tell it. Is there a more compelling way? A more beautiful form?

To deform means to distort the shape or form of; to make misshapen. But to deform is not what I had in mind. I want to un-form the story I have been writing, to liberate it from all the excessive layers, needless words, and outside noise. “What does it look like when you start living from a space of true authenticity?” The article about the Scorpio Moon rose questions. “Who do you then become?”

There is a loud urgency around the Scorpio Full Moon that pulls us in, demanding from us to unlock the depths of our heart and mind. How deep can we go within ourselves?

I started this month with a three-day writers' conference that took place at Whidbey Institute, on Whidbey Island. Organized by Hedgebrook, a leading organization helping women writers, Vortex is an annual event that celebrates women authoring change. I was lucky to lodge in a tiny cottage in the woods, where I had a meditation loft above my bed and the access to the most profound silence I have ever experienced.

My Fairy Cottage in the woods.

I arrived into this space with a load full of unbearable noise of this world I'm constantly trying to understand. The world whose leaders author oppression. The world of men who now dare make choices for women, and women's bodies.

I arrived with a weight pressing onto my chest, the weight that I wished to release through writing, and writing and writing until my fingertips bled. But I didn't put a word on paper. Not a word.

Instead, I dared connect to the stillness.

It was way before midnight my first night when I realized that the only sound around me was one of my heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Then on, louder and faster. Thump thump thump thump thump. I taught I would've been too scared to fall asleep in the silence and solitude and dark, but I slept soundly, dreamed of flowers, and was awakened at sunrise by the thumping noise of angry chipmunks knocking on my cottage windows and walls.

The next evening, the New Moon in Taurus tailed by Uranus, gave me the courage to read the raw beginning of my new story in front of the room full of women writers. Amazing writers.

The New Moon energy fills us with confidence. We then envision our dreams achieved, and we can manifest the future. As I read my words looking at Natalie Baszile, Dylan Landis, Ruth Ozeki, Shobha Rao, Elmaz Abinader, Rahna Reiko Rizzuto, Karen Joy Fowler, and Amy Wheeler in the first row, I knew that this was just the first time I would read these pages. There will be many more readings and even larger audiences. But this moment, I will forever cherish as the moment I finally embraced the sentence, I, Alexandra Panic, am a writer. I am not a mom who writes, or somebody's wife who writes, or a teacher of writing or yoga, I am a writer. All other nouns that define me are the proof that I live and love and study and that I fucking care about people and art and earth and liberty.

When the second night came, I rushed back to my fairy cottage in the woods to find my stillness again. There was just la Luna shining through the green coat of the forest and me. The silence I encountered was a felt experience. It penetrated my skin and pierced through my bones. It intertwined itself, in-between my ribs, and filled my lungs.

The next morning, at breakfast, I sat next to a woman to whom I told about my silence. She told me that, twenty years before, she had been awarded a Hedgebrook residency when she experienced the solitude for the first time. In that solitude she described as absolute and profound, she had found a nourishing stillness that has never left her. “If you can truly connect to the silence that resides within you,” Anne said, “you will go on, forever carrying your inner peace.”

The Scorpio Moon teaches us that the answers we seek are not outside of us, but in the stillness we find within.

The Internet page proposed more questions:

• Who you truly are?

• What is your purpose?

• What do you really need?

Only a month ago, I wasn’t able to answer these questions in a simple sentence. The answers now appeared to me in the silence in-between my heartbeats.

I am a writer who writes to inspire and move others, finding joy in the simple act of sharing. Even if I do long for certain feelings and things and experiences, what I truly need is space and silence.

In the everyday noise of achieving and gaining more and more, we neglect the power of silence. Inner peace is no longer a word on our wish lists.

The Scorpio Full Moon is a powerful moment to begin the transformation. Change doesn’t happen overnight. It is a long journey of taking risks and making choices; a journey of discovering new ways of looking at what we know. The change is not about what we do, but how we do it. And my transformation is not about changing what I write in the face of rejections but trying out new ways of telling my stories.

When I think of unforming my manuscript, I don’t imagine destroying it but instead shedding the unnecessary layers or silencing the noise of what it is not until I hear the heartbeats inside the silence, until I feel the authentic form of the story I need to tell.

We decide on how we want to see the world. The Full Moon in Scorpio allows us to change lenses.

I have been living and writing in-between cultures and languages. I'm trilingual, and I am a dual citizen. I have been obsessed with comparing the two or three. And I have been comparing myself to others, my writing to the writing of someone else and stressing about whether or when I can get better.

With this Full Moon, I want to let go of the comparisons and adopt the new way of looking at the world, my world. Neither is better than the other. The two or three are different, and different is beautiful.

All journeys are made of curves and turns; life is made of choices. Being free in art and life means having the right to make choices.