Under the Scorpio Full Moon

Reclaiming My Rhythm: Day 1 of My Cycle

The Scorpio full moon arrived cloaked in shadow and truth; an ancient torch illuminating the places within us we’ve been too afraid to look. Scorpio doesn’t ask politely. It excavates. It unearths. It strips away the layers that no longer serve so that something more real, more honest, more alive can emerge.

This full moon, nestled in the watery intensity of Scorpio, brought with it the medicine of death and rebirth. Not always literal, but always cellular. It whispers to the soul: let go. And if we resist, it doesn’t mind pulling us down deeper. Not to punish, but to purify. Scorpio is ruled by Pluto, planet of transformation, and it does not leave us unchanged.

For me, this moon illuminated three sacred lessons, each wrapped in the ache of letting go and the beauty of becoming.

Learning to Trust New Loves Without Control
In new connections that have been blooming over the last few months, I’ve felt the familiar urge to grasp: to define, to understand, to make it feel safe by naming it. But under this moon’s light, I felt the invitation to soften. To allow love to unfold without needing to know where it’s going. To be curious instead of controlling. Scorpio asks for vulnerability, not power plays. So I’m choosing to lean into presence and let intimacy evolve on its own timeline.

Honoring Jasper’s Wild Soul
My cat, Jasper, has been reminding me that love doesn’t mean containment. He disappears into the neighborhood, yowls at the door when I try to keep him in, and still always finds his way back to me. There’s a mirror here; his independence challenges my need for security. I’m realizing that loosening my grip and trusting his freedom is deepening our love. Letting someone (or some-cat) be wild and free, while still believing in their return, is a practice in surrender. Scorpio rules attachment, and I’m learning to loosen mine without withdrawing my heart.

Releasing the Ghost of My Twin Flame
The deepest layer that rose to the surface was an old ache; a love I once believed was destined, eternal, fated. My twin flame. The one who cracked me open, who mirrored the depths of my soul and all its shadows. But something has shifted. The magic that once felt magnetic now feels nostalgic. I’ve clung to the memory for too long, mistaking it for something that could still become. This moon helped me see that sometimes, we outgrow even our most cosmic connections. Sometimes, the lesson was the love; and it’s okay to let it go.

This moon asked me:
Can you stop looking back?
Can you unclench your grip on the people, patterns, and timelines you’ve outgrown?
Can you honor the depth of what was without confusing it with what is?

I’m still integrating the lessons of this full moon and making space to listen more deeply. I’m allowing the shedding. I’m choosing presence over fantasy. I’m choosing trust over control. And I’m letting this Scorpio moon show me that letting go isn’t the end; it’s the beginning of something truer.

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Under the Scorpio Moon

i didn’t know how much i was still holding
until the moon pulled it to the surface.
the ache of love that no longer chooses me,
the fear that if i don’t define something,
it might leave.
the part of me that still believes
i need to be held tightly
to be kept.

i knew i had let go
of the one who cracked me open.
my twin flame, my undoing
but some small part of me
was still waiting to be chosen again.
this moon asked me to stop waiting.
to stop watering the memory
of something that doesn’t live here anymore.

in the quiet of this week,
i felt the beginning of something new
not rushed, not certain,
but real.
i’m learning to sit inside the not-knowing,
to let this connection arrive
without trying to make it safe
by holding it too tight.

and then there’s jasper
wild, stubborn, independent.
he yowls when i try to restrict him,
but still comes home on his own.
i think he’s trying to teach me something
about trust.
about how love returns,
even when it’s given freedom.
especially when it’s not chased.

scorpio brought me to my knees
in the most gentle way
not through loss,
but through truth.
through asking me to see
what i already knew:
that letting go
can also be a way of loving.
that presence
is a kind of devotion.
that sometimes,
the most tender thing we can do
is stop holding on.

Mammoth Lakes, July 2021.