Riding Venus's Tail

forget-me-nots

In the luminous glow of the Libra Full Moon on April 12th, Venus stationed direct, having backtracked its way from Aries into Pisces since March 1st. The pathway that Venus traces in the sky over the course of an 8 year period has five lobes, forming a soft pentagram shape in the universe. Venus’s looping star-way mirrors the magical pentacle, also the star in the middle of an apple, and the five delicate petals of the wild rose.

Venus retrograde is a return (and is visually represented by the lobes of the pentagram), a reverie into the past fed by the cravings of the heart. Old flames and flings replay themselves in our dreams. Long lost friendships pull at our heartstrings and light up our DMs. Momentous choices and value based relationships resurface for us to either affirm or reframe so that they integrate more seamlessly into our lives and psyches.

Venus retrograde has a mythic landscape that is one of our most ancient human dramas. The myth itself is one of the oldest documented stories, written by Sumerian priestess Enheduanna in around 2300 BCE. Inanna (Venus) journeyed to the underworld to visit her sister Ereshkigal, shedding all of her worldly possessions as she became closer and closer to death. Just as Inanna must descend and humble herself at her sister’s feet, Venus retrogrades strip away built up layers of varnish that keep us from knowing our truest desires. A part of us metaphorically dies in order to be reborn again, just as Inanna is recovered from the underworld and restored to life.

{As I write this, I spy the first cecil brunner blooming on the old growth rose crawling above my front door. Venus is here.}

This Venus retrograde pulled me underwater and wrung me out to dry. Waves of grief tumbled over me as I tried to steady myself in the daily acts of motherhood, creative projects, and piles of overdue library books. As I traced the curls of Venus’ elliptic loop, I searched for evidence of myself back in 2017, when Venus was traversing its last retrograde through Aries and Pisces. I was looking for ways to make sense of my own inner stars. Circling back there, I remembered how I was dedicating to my life to the metaphysical studies, launching my tarot deck into the world, firmly rooting my public identity in my witch-hood, all the while regularly traveling to Mendocino to attend an herbal mystery school led by Liz Migliorelli.

Liz’s mystery school fostered in me a devotional relationship with plants, and if you aren’t familiar with her work you are in for a treat. {Subscribe to Liz’s newsletter here, and listen to my interview with her here.} Those months that I would commute from the San Francisco to the Mendocino coast wove a map into my psyche that is coded by apple blossoms, smokey mugwort, burdock root, nettles, and wild irises. For me, there is nothing more Venusian than plant magic and flower kinship. During this past Venus retrograde, it felt like the plants were calling me back to the trails, beaches, and trees that held me during a time of great transformation.

Last week I found myself back on the winding highway 128, a verdant stretch of road which weaves through oak crusted California hills, down through redwood groves, and spills out onto the edge of the coast. Venus brought me back to Mendocino, to the headlands framed by endless sky and infinite shades of blue, back to where the dwarf iris is blooming, back to the mist, nettle, moss dripping from the trees – and this time I had a wide-eyed two year old in toe, jaw dropping at the sight of a banana slug.

As the Moon rose over our campsite, the owls began to sing. I sat gazing into the campfire, drenched in dusk’s soundtrack. You could hear the low rumbling of the waves crashing at the edge of the world just a mile away, and I thought about the Little River running into the surf. The static clouds of forget-me-nots held everything in place, as I constellated the Venus retrograde within myself, in a place I have loved. Venus reminded me of the magician within me, a quiet seeking part, an experimenter, a student, a candle lighter, a gazer.

Venus retrograde holds the honeyed keys to remembering yourself, especially when pieces go missing, or hide away for a while. Sometimes we need the planetary nudge to retrace our footsteps. In the wake of Venus’ underworld trip, I am gathering myself gently back to daily devotions, to sitting with candles, to smoke divinations, to being rooted in my magic. What has Venus conjured up for you?

My books are open for 1-1 sessions for April and May! I will be taking a break for the month of June, so if you have been thinking about connecting, high Spring is the time.