BY LISA MARIE BASILE
It’s your scorpio-in-chief here to quell your fears and lull you into a space where you can get comfortable with the scorpio full moon. It’s also a blue moon, or the third full moon in a season of four full moons. Magical practitioners believe the blue moon is extra powerful; it’s the full moon, amplified, heightened, underscored. And, as the old adage — ‘once in a blue moon’ — goes, this moon is rare.
When a scorpio full moon occurs, people generally talk intensity and sexuality and darkness and the physical. And they’re not kidding, beauties. What is this darkness? What is this silent creeping feeling blooming out of my belly like a black tulip? What is this intense desire? What are these fears? Why do I want to fuck or meditate or go inward so hard? Why do I want to dance until morning? What shall I do to survive this intensity? Do I run or lean in-in-in, into that dark mansion of Scorpio? Must I make space for that intensity and regeneration? Can I rent a bunker?
Not to mention, this article has been updated to focus on Scorpio full moon in Taurus season, upping that physicality and passion and asking us to rethink our plans and finances.
Here — let me translate this for you, out of Scorpio-speak and into easy language.
First: Be not afraid. Yes, this is a heavy moment. You may be thinking about your place in the world, how to make rent, how to make a career move for sustainable joy, or what sort of relationship you want — to yourself, to others, to your dreams, to your fears. The moon, so full and so Scorpio in its shadowy mystery, is beckoning you to go deep. To stop looking away from the abyss. But this doesn’t have to be painful or frightening.
To that end, here is your Scorpio full moon homework. Go with one or two of the ideas below, and know that any momentary discomfort will absolutely yield rewards spiritually and psychically (and hey—maybe even physically).
Drop the bullshit, seek rebirth, and stare into the abyss
Scorpio doesn’t have time for bullshit, for the superficial, or for the useless things that serve no purpose and only hold you down. Stare your problems in the eye. Begin making plans to walk away from something that hurts you. It may not be immediate, but you can use this full moon to begin taking stock of ways to make a move and give blood to your desires. Start recognizing bad patterns. Take stock of friends who constantly let you down, of the job that hurts your soul, of the project that isn’t inspiring you—and make an out plan. Taurus asks to perhaps save money or put something aside for yourself, when possible.
Delete those toxic texts, ideas, and people — and be rid of it. In endings, scorpio finds rebirth; you’ll grow wings where a wound was once.
Decide what makes your life better and richer and move toward it. It’s not easy, but when you decide what doesn’t serve you...a chance happens. If it feels scary, that means it’s exercising a demon. Lean into it.
That said, not all situations are currently changeable—that’s okay. Take this opportunity to reframe your needs; you may not have full control over everything, but where can you find autonomy? Where can you plant seeds of change? Is the change you’re seeking internal? Perhaps that inner growth will transform your physical reality? If you need to lean on others (scorpio asks us to be vulnerable) to make all of this happen, do so. This may mean seeking community resources, medical care, or the love of a friend. You are safe in your need and your vulnerability. Any actualized scorpio will tell you this, despite their proclivities toward the secretive or seemingly stoic. In short, rebirth is a process, and it doesn’t always happen in a vacuum.
Scorpio is the sign of death and rebirth, so lean into its dark ways and part with whatever is dragging you down. Any depths you go into, you want to go into willingly—not because someone or something is pulling you into the abyss.
Embrace the sensual in all of its forms
Find a way to tap into your sexuality—that could be through sex magic (setting intentions and focusing on them during the act of masturbating or having sex), dancing or lying around in your finest lingerie, or honoring your sensuality by reading some beautiful poetry — Neruda, Sappho. Pick flowers. Eat honey and cinnamon. Listen to sexy music. Dance in your underwear. Light a candle and apply oils to the skin.
Set a goal and use the full moon to power up
Don’t just set any goal (I mean, you totally can), but this is the time to go deep. Is there something you’re deeply pining for on an existential level — something that you need to birth, to pull from the watery depths of the self? Is there something you’re trying to conjure on a big level, something life-altering? Do it. Say it. Meditate on it. Write a list of ways you can make it happen. Envision shimmering light surrounding your body and infusing it with drive. Envision swimming in a vast black ocean where you and the dark are alone together; what do you feel? What do you see? When you swim to shore, what do you see? Make it yours.
Write a letter to your dead
Grief is a beautiful, complicated, overwhelming and natural thing; it lets us peer into the truth of life and it mirrors back to us the deepest, most sincere parts of our ourselves. If you spend your time actively avoiding grief, you may have to spend some time letting it in eventually, right?
This is the time. Write a letter to your dead (perhaps, in this case, your grief is metaphorical). Visit a loved ones’ grave. Eat lunch in a graveyard. Thank the dead for welcoming you. Light a candle in honor of someone who passed or set up a small altar in their name. Go there. Feel it. Scorpio will cradle you in her arms and fill you with rejuvenation and comfort when you’re in pain. You just have to be willing to move through that murky threshold. Make like Hecate; go forth into the crossroads.
Yes, Scorpio is cthonic and intense—but she is fiercely loyal and wants the best for those who embark into the liminal. Trust me.
*This is an updated piece from 2018.
Lisa Marie Basile is the founding creative director of Luna Luna Magazine—a digital diary of literature, magical living and idea. She is the author of "Light Magic for Dark Times," a modern collection of inspired rituals and daily practices and the forthcoming "Wordcraft Witchery: Writing for Ritual, Manifestation, and Healing."
She's also the author of a few poetry collections, including 2018's "Nympholepsy." Her work encounters the intersection of ritual, wellness, chronic illness, overcoming trauma, and creativity, and she has written for The New York Times, Chakrubs, Narratively, Catapult, Sabat Magazine, Healthline, The Establishment, Refinery 29, Bust, Hello Giggles, and more. Her work can be seen in Best Small Fictions, Best American Experimental Writing, and several other anthologies. Lisa Marie earned a Masters degree in Writing from The New School and studied literature and psychology as an undergraduate at Pace University.