“You know, some 31 years ago today, I was watching football when a certain someone decided they were ready to be born. I tried to finish the game, but you weren’t having it. And since you were in such a rush to get here, there was no time for an epidural. I nearly broke my back pushing, but then, there you were. And now, here we are.”
– My mom, a Capricorn
Every year on my birthday/solar return my mom calls and tells me the story of my birth. Each year she adds a new dramatic tidbit. For example, one year she said I was almost born in the back of our family friend’s car because of traffic. Another year she said she ripped the sleeve off of the attendant’s scrubs because they asked a question at the wrong time. And then, another year she said my grandmothers were so excited for my arrival that they “literally” bought every baby onesie and blanket they could find inside the Sears my grandfather managed. No matter which version of the story I get, the facts that remain are: I was born Sunday, August 19, 1990, at 7:49 pm in Houston, TX (lol pull my chart, I don’t care). It was wild as hell and filled with love.
This year I turned 31 during Panini 2.0, Delta edition, as well as 2 weeks post fibroid removal. Not exactly the best circumstances or how I had imagined things going. But, all things considered, this year’s solar return was still true to form: wild as hell and full of love. Words cannot describe how grateful I am for the friends and family who helped celebrate, the community around me that reached out with kind words, and the space I had to reflect on the past year. Yes, my hormones and thus my emotions are all over the place post surgery. And yes, we’re approaching ANOTHER full moon in Aquarius. BUT ALSO, I can’t help getting emosh thinking about all the love I am fortunate enough to receive, as well as all of the love I get to pour into others.
In Astrology, there’s something called annual profections. TLDR each age/year of life highlights a different house in your chart starting at age 0 and the 1st house. You literally just need to know how old you are to determine what profection year you’re in, and count 1-12 for each year. Here’s a nifty visual aid though to help. There is also a method to determine your monthly profection, as well as daily, but that’s kind of messy and I don’t want to get into it.
My 30th year was my 7th house profection year, meaning there was a lot of focus on my partnerships. As of my solar return, I have now entered my 8th house profection year. Here’s the thing, not all houses are created equal. According to Kirah Tabourn (thestrology.com), the 8th house is considered to be the entrance to the Underworld. Cool cool cool. Kirah goes on to say that the 8th house represents death, loss, shared resources and wealth, therapy, and inheritances amongst other things. So basically, I just spent the last year examining my relationships (friend, family, romantic, work, etc) and now I get to spend the next year releasing, grieving, and surrendering to the shifts needed to support my healthy partnerships and free myself from my toxic ones. FUN FACT THAT INCLUDES MY RELATIONSHIP TO MYSELF!
As I reflect on my past year and the partnerships that defined it, I mostly see a lot of love and care, but I also see some unhealthy patterns that have run their course. In a tarot reading when the Death card comes up, I always remind folks that death isn’t necessarily a physical ending. It can also be the conclusion of something or the completion of a cycle. Being human means experiencing the cycles of death and rebirth several times, in a multitude of ways. With the current state of our world, there has been A LOT of death in every form, which means there’s a lot of grief in the air. Whenever we emerge from this Covid hellscape, we’ll be offered with the opportunity of rebirth for ourselves, our communities, and our society as a whole. Until then, all we can do is surrender to the waves of grief as they come, and be gentle with ourselves and others.
On a personal level, this next year, my 31st year of life, I’m being offered the opportunity to be vulnerable, to be compassionate, and to surrender. Last year I took stock of how I need others to show up for me, as well as how I can show up for others as my most authentic self. This year, I’ll be applying what I learned, and (hopefully) surrendering to the process of death and rebirth. Surrendering isn’t giving up and being passive. Surrendering is releasing expectations, trusting my intuition, and not micromanaging the universe. Surrendering is actively choosing freedom.
In honor of me and my recent solar return (because Leo), I encourage you to consider where in your life you’re resisting, and explore how you can surrender to the reality facing you.