This is a jarring eclipse—its strongest planetary connection is a quincunx to Uranus in Aries. It’s not as if a Moon in Virgo could relax anyway (such a worrywart!), but adding in the agitation and anxiety of Uranus practically guarantees a tendency to be unsettled and easily thrown off balance. Don’t trust your intuition during this eclipse—your feelings may be way out of proportion and oddly intellectualized.
Details About This Eclipse
Date: September 12, 2015
Time of eclipse: 11:41 PM Pacific Time
Type: partial (weak in intensity)
Visible in: southern Africa, southern Madagascar, northern Antarctica and the southwestern Indian Ocean.
At: 20º Virgo
Shadow Agents: Uranus in Aries
Does It Affect You Personally?
If your birthday is on any of the following dates, you’re most likely to experience this eclipse:
March 6 to 16
June 6 to 16
September 8 to 18
December 7 to 17
Remember, not every eclipse touches everyone, but when it does, it’s usually noticeable. A solar eclipse is likely to be marked by an external, real-world event (unlike a lunar eclipse, which is likely to bring up strong emotions and to be experienced as a subjective event). You may notice events happening anytime within the week surrounding the eclipse (up to a few days before or after). The following script is just one possible way it could go.
You hear a knock at the door. You answer it. There stand the Sun and Moon in Virgo, a cleaning team loaded up with several buckets of soap and toothbrushes. They sweep into the room and unload their toolkits.
Moon (surveying the room): Oh this really is dreadful.
Sun: Yes, it’s worse than I thought.
You suddenly see the mess you’ve been living in through Virgo eyes: dishes piled up in the sink, paper piles a foot deep and so many clothes strewn about that you can’t even see the floor. Both the Luminaries heave a great sigh, then dig in. Several hours go by. . .
Sun: We are hardly making a dent here!
Moon (poking her kerchiefed head up from behind the sofa): I’ve found an amazing nest of dust bunnies! I need another toothbrush—this one is worn flat.
Sun: Good thing we brought a few dozen because I’ve used up several already. Look in the bucket. At least I’ve gotten deeper into the living room than you.
Moon: When do you think we’ll make it into the bathroom?
Sun: No idea. I’m dreading the kitchen.
You: Don’t you think a general approach would be better? It will take forever to handle all this if all you have is a toothbrush. Didn’t you bring a vacuum? Some rags? A broom?
Sun and Moon in unison: Of course not! Details, details, details!
Moon: Life is made up of them.
They continue scrubbing. Another several hours pass by.
Sun: Why isn’t this going faster? Hey Moon, don’t focus on making the bed—we need to organize the kitchen first!
Moon (moping): But how can I rest in an unmade bed? If the bed’s not tidy, with clean sheets, I can’t relax. Why do your needs always come first?
Sun: Not when I’m eclipsed, they don’t! I’m having NO effect here at all!
Suddenly the door bursts open and Uranus in Aries literally blows in, a disruptive, kinetic figure, bringing a high, hot wind with him. He’s a large fellow wearing a bright red cape that never stops moving.
Sun: Where the hell did he come from?
Moon: Did anyone hear him ring?
You: Not me.
Uranus, in attempting to orient himself and avoid the pockets of mess that have gathered here and there, knocks over several large paper piles and some furniture—only adding to the disorder. The Moon and Sun freeze in mid-motion, not knowing how to handle this alien figure.
Uranus: I see what you’re doing. Order, right? It’s a good thing, right? Streamline. Well, the way to do that is to eliminate.
Uranus (casually glances over the whole mess, and nonchalantly waves his hand): Let’s get rid of most of this junk.
You: It’s not junk!
Moon: Darned right it’s not junk! There are nostalgic items here!
You: And stuff that’s really important!
The Sun stands ready but has only a toothbrush to contribute. Uranus slaps it out of his hand. The Sun looks dazed.
Sun: How could we possibly—
Uranus sweeps into the kitchen and swiftly roots around in the cabinet underneath the sink. Returning in a blur of speed, he begins tossing things into the garbage bags he’s found.
Uranus: You don’t need most of this stuff. (barking at the Moon and Sun) Get moving—NOW!
They scurry to obey, toothbrushes flying everywhere.
Uranus forces you through a quick triage, brooking no opposition.
Uranus: Need this? (tosses it) Want this? (tosses it) Why save this? (tosses it).
Soon he’s eliminated all the piles. There are six large garbage bags full of stuff, which the Moon and Sun lug to the curb. You don’t even want to look inside them. The Moon and Sun return to the living room, where they throw themselves on the sofa.
Moon: Wow! This feels SO much better!
Sun: Did we keep an accounting of what we tossed?
Uranus: Why do that?
Moon: I’m quite sure we’ve thrown away something important.
Uranus: Yes, probably. But things are clean. Isn’t that what matters?
Sun: I think it matters HOW it became clean.
Uranus. I don’t believe you. I’ve improved things. And now I’m off.
Uranus leaves in a whirlwind.
Moon: Who was that masked man?
Sun: I don’t know, but I hope I never see him again.
