Full Pink Moon in Libra: Eight of Pentacles
Happy full (pink) moon! I write to you from the coziest kid of spring day: a drizzly, overcast, yet warm afternoon, with bright pink blossoms outside the window, and Aldous Harding playing in the background. (I just saw her live last night— she was INCREDIBLE. Check her out.) It’s finally spring, and I am really feeling the vibe lighten, which is a relief after the super intense new moon we had two weeks ago. As I wrote then, keeping track of the moon phases is a beautiful way to tell time. Where are you now? What has changed for you in the past two weeks?
I finally have more space in my schedule and feel like a rested happy person again (yay!) and am finding joy in devoting more time to schoolwork, reading, and writing. (I’m such a Ravenclaw). So it felt fitting that the card I pulled for this full moon is all about devoted work. Guys, it’s the Eight of Pentacles… again! I had to chuckle when I pulled this card because I’ve been thinking about it and writing about it all year. This was the card I consciously chose for my 2019 theme card— an energy I want to cultivate all year long. Persistence, dedication, craftsmanship, consistency. (I wrote about it more here).
To me, pulling this card again now was the deck saying: okay, you’ve cleared away a lot of your distractions. Now guess what? You get to do the actual work. The work you always say you’re trying to do. No more distractions. Get down to it. Thanks, tarot. You always tell it like it is.
Whatever craft you’ve dedicated yourself to, whether it’s new or something you’ve been doing for years, the space and lightness created by this springtime full moon invites you to re-center that craft in your life. Remember, this moon is in Libra, which is all about justice, truth, and seeing stuff as it is. So, taking a good truthful look at your life, do you have enough time to dedicate to your craft? Is your energy leaking out somewhere it doesn’t need to be? If so, this is the perfect call to patch up those energy leaks, and accept the invitation to re-center the work that’s most important to you.
In the Mesquite Tarot guidebook (which is quite beautifully written by Aleisha Fitz), it says for Eight of Pentacles: “On occasion, you get those moments of forgetting yourself, getting lost in the music of making, hours passing, something rhythmic taking over. the greeks referred to muses, spirits that used the bodies of humans to translate their art. mostly, these interludes are rare. the practicality of work, even inspired, is its own test of endurance.”
I like this description because it touches on two aspects of work: first, that it does come from inspiration, and that we can lose ourselves in it quite blissfully. You have probably reached a flow state at some point doing the work you love; otherwise, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with it. However, that doesn’t mean every session is going to be a flow state. Not every work session will feel joyful or even inspired. But we show up for those ones too, because we know that inspiration will show up again, eventually. Or we remember the initial spark, and we use that to propel us forward. We go on faith. Some days it’s a drag. Some days it’s ecstasy. We show up either way.
That’s a huge part of the message of the Eight of Pentacles: showing up to do the work. Often I can’t stand the idea of writing. I don’t even know why, but I’ll think of every other possible task to do instead (re-organizing the cabinet I rarely use? Sure! Walking forty minutes to the library to return a book that’s not even due yet? Yep, that takes priority!) But I know from practice that if I can just get myself to start, I’ll get somewhere. It might feel easeful, or it might be like pulling teeth. But either way I got a bit of work done. And that’s worth it.
Can you get yourself to start? Day after day? On the Mesquite Tarot card, we see a row of seemingly finished pentacles hung up on a line, while the work table remains, waiting with another. Much work has already been done— you’ve already achieved a lot, and you’ve already come to the work table time and time again. And guess what? It’s not over. The task remains, to return to that table, even still.
If this sounds like a drag (and tbh, it sorta does), ask yourself whether the work is worth it. You will know in your body what the answer is. I just know in my bones that the project I’m working on is worth it, even if daily I’m resisting it like the dentist. (I hate going to the dentist). And once you feel it in your body, this worth-it-ness, your vision, your craft, your purpose, perhaps that will give you the renewed strength and vigor to return to the work table.
A great book related to this is The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield. It gives it to you straight, that the creative life (or whatever type of work you do) requires a constant recognition of distraction, and clearing away of distractions. The figure on the Eight of Pentacles is singularly focused on his task. He’s not swiping on his smart phone or listening to a podcast while he works. This is a card of focus.
And again, though this sounds like a tough taskmaster, it can also result in joy. Because the writing sessions where I do enter a flow state are magnificent. When I stand up and in shock realize I’ve written ten pages, feeling like they poured out of me, like I wasn’t even conscious, losing myself in it— it’s a transcendent experience, thrilling, like going on a long run where I lose my thoughts completely.
So, to me, it’s worth it. The focus. The taskmaster. The daily grind. Some days I fail. But some days I win over distraction and I sit down, and I get to work.
Celebrate this full pink moon and ask yourself: what is your work? Is it worth it? What are your distractions? Can you clear them away?
I believe in you! And the moon does too.