into the Scorpionic Underworld
on the eclipse portal, chthonic deities, the collective unconscious, and standing against genocide
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your witchy writer friend check-ins are are specially curated editions of the newsletter that hit your inbox and/or Substack app with the passing of each astrological season. They include thoughts and recommendations on any number of relevant current events, links, literature, and ideas on what to create ritual with. I also share deeper discussions of astrology as a framework for what may be coming up, both on personal & collective levels, and how to use it as a vehicle for personal growth and healing.
Hi friends,
Writing a newsletter about delving into the depths of the Underworld at a time when there is so. much. density—so much pain, hate, and violence in the world—is both painfully difficult and sickeningly apt. This newsletter is late and I’m sorry; I have been struggling. All last week I repeatedly stitched together and then picked apart an even longer piece on how I’ve been feeling about all things Israel, Hamas, and Gaza. It’s felt impossible to know what to write that hasn’t already been articulated on the topic, far more beautifully and informatively than I can express.
As a child of Iranian immigrants, a first-generation hyphenated American, it is definitively hard to share about my feelings on the Middle East, while it remains close to my heart and something I feel required to do. The accompanying feelings of guilt when conflicts erupt—for being here in the States, physically safe if not emotionally so, while people there are suffering—are familiar, though no less gut-wrenching.
Plus, the fear of speaking up on the topic is still somewhat ingrained; I learned pretty quickly after 9/11 that my opinions on the Middle East were not usually welcome (primarily around yt people), something I’ve written about previously. It’s taken years of unlearning, unpacking these wounds, and dismantling—gently or not—the patterns that stem from them.
Those aren’t the only 9/11 flashbacks I’ve been feeling lately, either: there’s the instantaneous rise in hate crimes, for one. The hateful propaganda and fear-mongering tactics, for another—coming straight out of George W. Bush’s 2001 playbook—that are in support of what isn’t so much a war as it is an extermination. And, as we all know, the internet is in uproar over what absolutely amounts to ethnic cleansing, and who even “has the right” to use that terminology.
The big ugly G word that is happening now, above all else: I don’t actually want to use the word “war” when so many experts of international human rights law have called it genocide.
As Valarie Kaur writes, “Before Americans even had time to process our shock and count our dead after 9/11, our energies had been redirected for war. On the very night of the attacks, President Bush declared a ‘war against terrorism’ and divided the world into us and them: You are either with us or against us. Grieving is a process that takes time and stillness and presence. It is impossible to grieve and prepare to kill at the same time. So, despite all the performances of national mourning, we as a nation had little time and space to be present to our pain and all that it had to teach us. Unresolved grief inside a person is tragic; unresolved grief inside a nation is catastrophic: It releases enormous aggression.”
How many times will we allow history to repeat itself?
Though I still feel I don’t have the right words, though I still question whether I can contribute anything to this maelstrom that will proactively help, I have wanted to make a careful attempt; because what I do know is that I am willing to take a stand, staunchly, against the devastating loss of yet more human life. It shouldn’t be taboo to say the words, “Free Palestine.” It should be obvious that I want every single hostage Hamas has so viciously kidnapped to be freed, too, and to safely return home.
I refuse to fall into the trap of the hideously binary “stand with Israel or stand with terrorism” call to arms. After all, I know better than most that governments are not their people. I also know that being anti-Zionist is not inherently anti-Semitic. I can both feel for and love my Jewish friends, wanting to support them, wanting them to feel safe in this world, and want that for innocent Palestinians. For everyone.
The rise in hate crimes, both antisemitic and Islamophobic, is very real. And it’s scary. Let it be known that I am vehemently against both.
I can denounce both Hamas’ explosive violence and that of the Israeli government (and the decisions of other nation-states, such as the U.S., to back Israeli crimes against humanity). I believe that we can be both anti-terror and anti-genocide. We can refuse to be swayed on this point. We can stand with humanity and the sacredness of all human lives.
I know that some people—those who find astrology intolerably “woo woo”, for example—will look upon the following as a colossal copout. But astrology has always served as a reminder, for me, that things playing out on the world stage are often occurring in accordance to a much grander one than we can individually comprehend.
This belief is one I’ve held to for much of my life. It’s a big part of the reason why I write this newsletter in the first place.
So. We are in the midst of the eclipse portal, the corridor between the October 14 solar eclipse in Libra and the upcoming lunar eclipse in Taurus on the 28th. This eclipse season has opened a doorway into our conceptions of Justice with a capital J, liberty, and peace—for all human beings, regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or political identity.
And it makes a sick kind of cosmic sense, because in addition to Libra’s sovereignty over these domains, as of October 10 (i.e. right around the time the horrors started), Pluto turned direct in Capricorn. It will retrace its steps into Aquarius, then back into Capricorn again, several more times before settling in Aquarius and staying there until 2043—finally ushering humanity into the age of Aquarius.
This is radical change across the board, especially when it comes to longstanding societal structures, as Cap is ruled by Saturn, meaning they fall into Saturn’s “patriarchal warlord” archetype.
We are in a kind of cosmic birthing canal. The old paradigms are collapsing, but they won’t go without a fight (to say the very least). I have to believe that the sheer number of so many of us awakening—and speaking our truths, and raising and holding the collective frequency to that of higher vibrations—are enacting change, though at times the ripples of this change radiating outward don’t feel near large enough at times. Nor does it always feel like they are moving quickly enough. But I have to believe they are making an impact.
As of today, October 23, we have entered Scorpio season—a sign that is ruled by Pluto. With so much nebulous energy, Scorpio is an oft-misunderstood sign. Like the changes we are often most afraid to make in our lives, it has much to teach us on the subject of transformation. But we fear looking into the dark, and the more we fight it, the more its power over us grows, unfurling sharp talons, brandishing long canines that gleam in the shadows. Our bodies ripple chilled as we feel that fetid breath, close and heaving hot at the backs of our necks.
At any moment, we could be cleaved in two. We don’t even realize that sometimes, we are the ones with the claws.
“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”
—Carl Jung
The more we resist venturing into the dark, the hungrier it becomes, prowling like some great Cerberus. Pluto rules the unconscious, the netherworld we all partially inhabit, and our shadow sides, both as individuals and as part of the collective. This, and the slavering three-headed dog, Cerberus, stem from Greco-Roman mythology, wherein the Underworld was their domain.
Sometimes the stories we tell are ones of destruction. Greek goddesses Hecate and Persephone are at the center of primal stories like these, stories where darkness is not something to be feared, but a necessary metamorphosis.
Egyptian mythology tells us that Pharaoh patron goddess Selket rules the dead, her totem animal the scorpion. Other goddesses associated with the poisonous arachnid are the Aztec Malinalxochitl; Ningirima, Mesopotamian goddess of healing and magical incantations; and Ta-Bitjet, another Egyptian goddess and consort to Horus.
These chthonic deities, too, are denizens of the dark. And scorpions, their power animal, are symbols of death, rebirth, and transformation. They wait patiently before striking, but when they do…
Where we are now, in our humanity, can feel like a poisonous place. We are no longer descending; we have made the foray into our collective Underworld. Many people, too many, remain acting out from states of unconscious hate and tribalism—and it can feel relentlessly painful. My heart hurts for us all. I don’t have answers; I truly wish I did. But I do know that what feels like poison can be transmuted, and that using our sacred rage to step up, speak out, and fight back against the oppressor is more important than ever.
ON ALCHEMY:
If there’s a zodiac sign that knows about alchemy, it’s Scorpio. It solicits us to choose the depths over the shallow end; to ask the real, probing, uncomfortable questions; to sink our teeth in, or to turn and face that ugly, monstrous thing behind the door. That personal Cerberus—the one for which we’d rather do anything but.
It requires us to ask ourselves, how do we tunnel into the dark to reconcile the parts of ourselves we may not want to let reach the light of day? How do we accept, if not embrace, the parts of ourselves we’d prefer to stay there?
We ask for help. We lean on one another. We speak when we can and amplify the voices of others when we feel the need to rest. We pour it all out—onto the page, transmuted and back out into the world: the writers. the artists. the activists. the healers.
DEEP INSPIRATION ON SUBSTACK:
- is one of those poets who regularly gives me a sense of faith in the power of the written word during times of hardship. This lyrical essay from her is a heartrending and moving example of that.
This post from
featuring a poem by Wendell Berry:
This piece from Jewish-American journalist
, whose Substack New Means is an excellent resource:This powerful piece on allowing nuance and holding complexity (something that is all too elusive on the internet today), and on holding multiple truths at once, by author, speaker, and astrologer
:
ADDITIONAL READING:
Yes, You Can Be Pro-Palestine and Anti-Hamas via David Faris for Slate
FOR CREATING RITUAL WITH:
Engage in as many of your self-care and self-soothing practices as you can manage. Personally, my meditation practice and multiple daily Reiki self-treatments are nonnegotiable. I have begun offering short distance Reiki session videos on my Instagram. If you’re interested, check out what I’ve created so far here and here. More offerings to come.
Above all else, try to go easy on yourself. Everyone grieves differently; this is a collective trauma, and if you, too, are struggling to find the words or the space to process the violence, and your grief, know that you are not alone in this.
Thank you for reading Cosmic Kudos. I decided against paywalling this edition in the interest of reaching more readers. If you’d like to support my work, you can purchase a paid subscription; buy me a coffee here, if you’d like to provide a one-off contribution; and share this post with a friend if it resonated. If you’re on the Substack app, please consider restacking, as it helps more readers find my writing.
Thank you for supporting a growing independent writer and artist.
xx, Kimia