I want to tell you what to do with a New Moon in Virgo, but first I want to tell you about one moment I had with the perfect song.
On a nighttime road trip to northern Maine, scrolling through Spotify on a rampage to make the perfect accompanying playlist in real time, I stumbled upon Meshell Ndegeocello's 2018 album Ventriloquism. Okay, I didn't actually stumble onto the album so much as I stumbled onto Meshell's cover of "Private Dancer" by Tina Turner. A Tina Turner worshipper and a Meshell admirer, I pressed play instantly, effectively erasing all my previous selections in the queue. No matter, the moment her voice crept out from the car's speakers, this song was the only thing of any importance. The pop hit—which, in its original iteration, is already sensational—transformed into an aching waltz that gutted me. UGHHHHH, I moaned to my lover, who was driving, her voice feels like the moment someone finally slides their fingers in your pussy. I laughed out loud with joy at the thought, and then I was crying.
Not weeping, but rather gently pried open by the force of her radical craft and called to release myself into the hot joy of it. It should not surprise you at all to know that Meshell is a Virgo. That this Virgo virtuoso, among many of her kind, knew precisely what she was doing when she made this album of cover songs. On her website, she writes of her process: "But in times so extreme and overwhelming, when there is no known expression for the feeling, no satisfactory direction for art or action, then they might take refuge in a process, a ritual, something familiar, the shape and sound of which recall another time altogether, so that they can weather the present long enough to call it the past. "
Yes, I felt that refuge, within the song and within me. And, on the new moon in Virgo, I want to speak with you about the work we are here to do, the moments of refuge we create; for ourselves, so that we might gather our strength, despite those who seek to dehumanize us and strip us of our sacredness.
Because, what is sacred? Our bonds. Our ability to see grace in each other. Life, all life, is sacred. Black lives. Immigrant lives. Trans lives. The lives of sex workers and the lives of those who live on the margins. The lives of all people, no matter their age, gender, or credentials, who cross borders seeking refuge from violence or the opportunity to follow their North Star. The stranger seeking refuge is sacred, any religion will tell you that, any love song, any great tale. We cannot choose fear over faith without personal loss. When we act without love, when we dehumanize "the other"—leveling our false freedom, our comfort, our capital above someone's right to live—we forfeit our own claim to sacredness, we sacrifice our own humanity, and chose a world without bonds.
Virgo is a sign, like its mutable siblings (Gemini, Sagittarius, Pisces), that upholds bonds. Virgo knows that we are here to serve the Earth by serving each other. Any work Virgo puts their energy into is sacred because Virgo knows that our work is our proof of life, our offering and our medicine. When Virgo takes up a ritual, a practice, or a project, they attend to it with the inherited knowledge of several generations and countless teachers. They know their history and they honor their discipline. A Virgo might prefer to finish the damn thing by themselves, but rarely will they ever claim to have accomplished it on their own. Virgo energy is the energy of sacred work, the bonds that brought us to it and sustain us through it. A bond, like a kinship between two or more minds, or like a contract made in good faith.
This Virgo new moon is a bond made in the sky between so many planetary bodies. The Sun is in Virgo, of course, and the moon, and Mars, and Venus, and Mercury too. Mars in Virgo inspires us to be ardent and dedicated in our endeavors, while Mercury in Virgo lends a keen eye and precise hand. Venus in Virgo urges us to express our admiration and care through acts of service and mindful errands. She underscores the pleasures of daily life, the paper folded just so and the coffee brewed just right. She wants to leave things better than she found them, and she teaches us, often by way of error, to practice letting go of certainty around what "better" is for someone else.
This new moon's chart has a stellium in Virgo, a kinship system so strong it might have some of us Earthlings pushed in the other direction toward Virgo's polarity—Pisces. An energy that, when picked up out of misdirection, is an energy that overextends in kinship and makes so many bonds, they find it hard to prioritize and keep track the way practical Virgo can. The new moon is no time to weaken your boundaries, babes. The new moon is all about figuring out how to maintain your emotional boundaries while creating space for new rituals and processes. The new moon is social and sovereign, invested in a web of relations yet discerning of what those relations offer and what they take.
Private dancer, the Virgo new moon knows how to get what she wants, she's a hustler—like all dreamers are. Beneath her dark light, whatever your process, whatever your work, give word that you won't sacrifice your vision. Make a vow to your refuge and to recognizing the right to refuge in others. Make a bond, maintain it.