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BY: Dana Gerhardt
As a schoolgirl, every year about this time, I'd take out a clean sheet of paper and with a bold, optimistic hand, write at the top:
"The New Me."Then I would list all the wonderful qualities I was determined to adopt in the coming school year: "Smile." "Be helpful." "Always say something nice." In the weeks before entering fifth grade, I read Dale Carnegie's
How to Win Friends and Influence Peopleand following a suggestion in the book, made note cards of its winning slogans and strategies. I knew nothing about astrology.
I was following the Sun's path into Virgo quite unconsciously--which is something I continue to do.Last night, forgetting entirely about Virgo's coming New Moon (and the article I needed to write for it), I was imagining the butcher block paper I was going to tape to the wall, filled with qualities I wanted to nurture in the new me.
When the wheat-bearing Virgin enters our consciousness, we're moved to
gatherthe year's yield so far,
sortingwhat's useful from what's not, so that we may
purifyand
reorientourselves. As the sixth New Moon of the astrological year, Virgo is a transitional sign, turning our concerns from the above-ground growth of spring and summer, to the more critical, introspective work of autumn and winter. We're
digestingall that we've absorbed in the prior seasons. We're raising our powers of
discernmentand
analysis. We're inspired toward
perfection, a refinement of our techniques. How can our lives be improved? What must change? This cycle we choose some aspect of our world to take apart, cleanse, re-work, and polish until it shines.
My sister always gave me plenty of faults to work with. "You're too uptight and hard-hearted. You care only about yourself." The lover I recently broke up with is writing me emails saying much the same. I can still remember what my ex-husband, my parents, everyone who's ever had an unkind word has said about me.
Being Virgo rising, I've always paid attention to such criticisms, on a mission to become perfect.But I wonder. As I raise my pen to compose another self-improvement list, a rogue thought enters my mind. What if Virgo's discernment also means honoring the positive reflections I've received? These I usually discard..."Generous and kind? You must be talking about someone else. Insightful? Not insightful enough! You think I write well? Someone's pulled a veil over your eyes. This skirt would look good on anyone, nothing special about me."
What are alternatives to being perfect?
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