THE MOON WAS VOID, OF COURSE! or How Not to Write an Article

By John Marchesella

When first invited to write an article for this edition of The Ingress, there was a specific topic about the Moon in mind, and then, something (or maybe, nothing) happened.

Usually, a busy work schedule limits my time to write, so my formula is strict: mull over an idea, <em>pick an astrologically good time to put pen to paper,</em> organize some bullet points, write, edit and quickly re-edit. No fuss, no muss, no problem, until....

I don't know if it was the voice of my demons, or the mercurial imp inside of me; or maybe it was the whisper of Luna, Herself, retaliating for being exposed in the light of day of this article; but a voice, from deep within, uttered, "Hey, why not start writing on a void-of-course Moon and see what happens!"

"An experiment!," cried my Aquarian curiosity. And given the long stretches of lunar voids this summer, it was not hard to pick an astrologically "wrong" time to experiment with writing an article.

Immediately, there began an endless run of obstacles, delays, interferences, mishaps and the sort of things that make the void-of-course Moon infamous among astrologers. Whether it was computer breakdowns, unexpected guests from out-of-town, clients with emergencies, running into other deadlines for work, and of course, my own Freudian slips, such as leaving my notes and example charts in one place when intending to write in another place, but obviously, the time to finish this article as intended was quickly slipping through my fingers.

And here I am, dear reader, unusually passed the due date of this article, far from my original topic, more interested in the testimony to the fact that one should never begin a project on a void-of-course Moon and expect it to reach its destiny according to schedule! True, what one discovers and experiences on the detours of life's journey is valuable too, but nevertheless, in a Saturnian world of duties and deadlines, there is no time for wandering through voids.

For those who are not familiar with the basics of the void-of-course Moon, here is a synopsis:

When the Moon separates from Her last major in-sign aspect with another planet, She is said to be void until She enters the next sign. A celestial calendar easily indicates when these times are (or learn the joys of working with an ordinary ephemeris).

That last aspect which begins the void, colors the quality of the void; i.e., a square to Pluto can make for consternation during the void, perhaps over money or sex, but a sextile to Venus can fill the void with imaginative thinking. The personal houses that are ruled by these planets come into play with ones own experience of the void as well, as, of course, the house placement of the transiting Moon.

These voids occur every other day or so, but they can vary in length from just a minute, up to a day or two at a time, depending on the location of the other planets in relation to the Moon.

There is a purpose to every season under heaven, so the purpose of these times makes for truly lunar activities, such as mulling, stewing, pondering, wondering, wandering, meandering, communing with Nature, connecting with the Soul, and just generally, seeing where the waters of life will lead us, so to speak. The imagination belongs to the Moon, but unfortunately, in today's world, both of them are given short shrift.

Practical activities do not reach their intended goal during the void, but even leisure activities do not always get to the point. For instance, going to the movies can be a very lunar activity, but when the Moon is void, what happens on the way to the theatre may be more "interesting." Dining with friends is certainly lunar in nature, but what will count is who else you bump into on the way to the restaurant, what you accidentally stumble over in conversation with your friends, or even what you wind up ordering because your first choice is unexpectedly what's off the menu that night.

So, is the void-of-course Moon a bad thing? No, not all. In fact, in the right frame of mind, i.e., on the right side of the brain, She can even be very beneficial. Purpose and practice are synonymous only in a Saturnian world.

During the voids, avoid purchases, final decision-making, executing decisions (such as signing contracts), beginning projects with a specific goal in mind, and most of all, making plans for the future (because the Moon is all about the past).

Is having a reading, especially when making predictions and forecasts, a bad idea on a void-of-course Moon? Not in my experience. In fact, more often than not, these readings are very potent, maybe surprisingly so. However, what is a bad idea is actually making an appointment for a reading (or anything else, for that matter) while the Moon is void. In those cases, the client won't show up, or worse yet, he or she will show up with a few guests to sit in on the reading, or the birth information is incorrect, or in some other way, you can expect the unexpected. In other words, planning a reading is a much more practical matter than actually having a reading.

And what happens when it is absolutely imperative to take definitive action while the Moon is void? First of all, don't terrify yourself or others with forecasts of catastrophe. (If doom occurred as easily as the fearful anticipate, then the world might be in better shape by now). Instead, when something has to take place on the void, just be aware and observe the process of the event. When the matter begins to go awry, you'll know why astrologically, and you'll have sense of how to deal with the unexpected and perhaps how long it will last.

Most of all, ponder why this event had to take place on the void. In other words, voids have meaning, maybe not predictability, but meaning.

Lastly, stop being a control freak! The astrology community is filled with New-Age-touting control freaks because the horoscope appears to have power of predictability. Egad, is that ever an illusion! The horoscope does bring knowledge and knowledge is power, but even this kind of power doesn't make the Universe predictable. Forget about the outer planets; we need only the hide-and-seek of the Moon to experience the mysteries of the Cosmos. Perhaps one of the meanings of the void-of-course Moon is that Nature, human or otherwise, can not be controlled.

For years, Jim Maynard in his annual Astrological Datebook, a favorite among control freaks, uh, busy astrologers, like myself, reminds us of the many presidential bids or nominations that were made during the void-of-course Moon and lost - Thomas Dewey (prematurely proclaimed the winner in the newspapers), Richard Nixon in 1960, Goldwater, McGovern, the inauguration of Gerald Ford, Carter on his second try, and yes, dear Al Gore in 2000, and dare we say it, but even John Kerry when he won his final caucus and became the apparent Democrat nominee.

However, of all the mundane events on the void-of-course Moon, the most dramatic one in our lifetime, so far, is 9/11. There are so many outstanding astrological features in that chart, but oft forgotten is the fact that it took place while the Moon was void.

For clarity, that is not the kind of unpredictability that is aforementioned here. In fact, such violent events generally do not occur on the void-of-course Moon. Rather, it boggles the astrological mind what else was intended for that day that did not go according to schedule. How much worse could it have been? Where was that fourth plane headed? How many other human bombs were boarded on planes that were waiting for take-off and grounded? Were we, on this end of the violence, protected by the Mother in the Moon? Is it a coincidence that the US is a Moonchild? As is the sitting (and I do mean, sitting) President? Such questions are moot because the answers were voided by the Moon that fateful morning.

For your astrological ponderings, the last aspect before the void was a trine to Uranus; and depending on which chart of the US is used, Aquarius is on the 3rd house cusp of the Sibley chart and the Moon was transiting through the 7th house; or Aquarius is at the MC of the Gemini Rising chart with the Moon passing through the 1st house.

Finally, what happens for those who are born on a void-of-course Moon? Do their lives amount to nothing? Or are they more prone to the surprise element of life any more than the rest of us? I've never zeroed in on a specific descriptive of the natal void-of-course Moon dynamic, and maybe that lack of definition is part and parcel of the phenomenon. However, those natives needn't worry about it because they are in the good company of these interesting examples: Alex Hailey, author of Roots; comedians, George Carlin and Rich Little; male sex symbols, Tom Selleck, Mark Harmon and Tom Jones; the early pioneers in broadcasting, Edward R. Murrow and Dave Garroway; John Milton, author of Paradise Lost, and Joseph Maniewicz, director of the classic film, "All About Eve," as well as the classic debacle, "Cleopatra;" and Robert Kennedy and John F. Kennedy, Jr.

Curiously, the lunar issues are more evident in the women with void-of-course Moons: Paula Abdul, Lauren Bacall, Josephine Baker, Simone de Beauvoir, Ingrid Bergman, Pearl S. Buck, Carol Burnett, Doris Day, Princess Diana, Emily Dickinson, Isadora Duncan, Jackie Kennedy Onasis, Vanessa Redgrave, Sally Ride, as well as Eva Braun and Linda Lovelace.

As things begin, so too do they end. So, in beginning this article on a void, it ends on a void of poetic thoughts:

She is the whisper that comes at twilight and lulls you to a sleep where you visit your inner landscape of shadows, where you might see what you missed in the blinding light of the Sun. She is the memory of the day.

And at the end of the night, Hers are the arms of slumber that still surround you, hoping you won't be stirred by the moment of morning; yet knowing all along, it was Her duty to ready you for the rise of the man-child, Sun, again.

When, after enough days pass, it was Father Saturn who all along directed you to your life's destination. But She is the memory of the journey and the very long day you lived.

Silver, slivers, and sometimes round, She is the Moon.

September 19, 2005