©7-14-2010 by Donna Cunningham, MSW
Since we’re considering the effects of mundane squares just now on Skywriter, I’m looking once more at my own mundane square. Pluto is just 1° off my Leo Ascendant in the 1st house and my Aries Moon is 4° off the Midheaven in the 9th. Though there’s no other type of aspect between Pluto and the Moon, my difficult and highly Plutonian relationship with my mother has been a central theme in my life.
I do have other difficult aspects to the Moon, but I know how they feel and what they mean, and, believe me, Pluto doesn’t feel like any of those. Pluto is unmistakeably Pluto. Let me illustrate this aspect with a strange story about a pivotal moment…
February 9th, 1980
There are eight of us in a circle in my home office in a Brooklyn brownstone. Neighborhood women in their 30s and 40s, educated, intelligent, articulate, insightful. Mostly single, two the mothers of young children.
I’m leading Week 3 of a 4-session group exploring their relationships with their mothers through their astrology charts. Most are astrology clients, not students.
I mention something odd I noticed in their charts. Every one of them has an aspect of some kind between the Moon and Pluto, and the chart for our first meeting had that aspect as well. I describe the qualities of the aspect, and they start to share how it applies to their relationships with their mother.
I mention the threat of abandonment and that these mothers may use it as a form of emotional blackmail to control their offspring.
One of them laughs—a dry, hollow laugh like the rattling of bones. “My mom threatened suicide on a regular basis. She told me that when I came home from school, I’d find her dead with her head in the gas oven.”
I ask, “Did she ever really make a suicide attempt?”
“Never. But I believed her, and it terrified me. I would run home from school to see if that was the day she finally did it. She still threatens me over the phone about once a week.”
Several of the others chime in. “My mom didn’t threaten suicide, she just told me all the time that she was going to leave us and we’d never see her again.”
“I was in foster care a couple of times when my Mom had breakdowns.”
“Mine is always telling me she’s going to die and I’ll be sorry when she’s gone. She’s sick a lot, but not that sick.”
My stomach clenches, listening to them. I won’t tell them this, but my mom IS going to die…and I hope it’s sooner rather than later. She’s so far gone with Alzheimer’s that they’re tube feeding her.
I ask myself again, how can that be? She’s only 57, but her brain was nearly black on the CAT scan. Alcoholism. Almost 40 years of unfiltered cigarettes, 2 packs a day. A life of relentless hardship. And those battered aluminum pans she’s cooked on forever and refuses to throw out.
The session winds down, and the women prepare to leave, but hang around talking to one another individually, swapping horror stories about their Moms.
The phone rings, and I decide to answer it, since nobody seems to need to talk to me.
It’s my sister, calling from California. “You have to come. We need you. Mom is dead.”
I tell her I’ll come, hang up, and sit at the desk with my head in my hands. I didn’t really think it would happen this soon, as the decline had been so slow. I break out in a cold sweat and feel like I might throw up.
The group notices and asks what’s wrong. In a daze, I tell them, then realize I shouldn’t have. They’ve just spent the last hour talking about their mother’s death threats.
One asks if I want her to call someone. I call a friend who lives nearby, and she rushes over. My body is chilled to the core, and she tells me I’m in shock. I scarcely notice when the women leave.
When I return from California, I call the women to schedule the 4th and final session of the series. None of them can make it. They’re all suddenly much too busy.
I try to discuss the traumatic end to our last session with them individually, but they deny that it bothered them. Right. All their lives, their mothers have threatened to die on them, and in the group, they’re confronted with the reality that mothers DO die at some point.
Professionally, I know they really need to talk it through, but I can’t MAKE them come in. And I have my own grief to work on, as deep and as raging as my feelings about my mother have always been.
Like calls to like, so all of us Moon-Pluto women were called together for a purpose that my mother’s death fulfilled. I can only imagine that there’s some reason for them to have this vicarious experience. Perhaps it’s to prepare them for when the inevitable does happen and their mothers’ threats finally come true.
* * * * * * *
You’re probably wondering whether Moon-Pluto aspects figured into the transits. The Pluto transits to my Moon and IC had finished already, after a two-year engagement with a variety of important lunar issues that included her diagnosis and accelerating decline. Nor was there a progressed aspect between Moon and Pluto. It was a progressed new Moon near my IC, which is a major departure and new beginning in lunar matters.
Oh, and another thing. If you are having a transit of Pluto to your Moon or IC, DO. NOT. conclude that your mother is going to die. You’ll have a major transit of Pluto to your Moon at least once every 12 years, depending on how long Pluto is staying in a particular sign. By the time you reach 60, you will already have had 5 major transits of Pluto to your Moon.
Your mother is only going to die once, but each time you get an important Pluto transit to your Moon, you’ll undergo an important shift in your way of relating to your Outer and Inner Mother…hopefully in a progressively healthier direction.
UPDATE: This was only posted a couple of hours ago, and already the sharing that’s going on is powerful and healing. If you have a Moon-Pluto story, whether natally or by transit, read what people are saying and tell us your own experience in the comment section down below this post.
Incidentally, if you’re a subscriber and haven’t requested the ebooklet, Mothers, Daughters, and the Moon, this might be a good time for it. See below.
Take the tests, if you haven’t already:
- How Strong is your Moon? Here’s the Score?
- How Strong is your Pluto? Here’s the Score!
- PlutoPaloozas, Here’s Plenty of Pluto Posts!
Posts about the Moon:
- Why Cancer Isn’t a Popular Sign
- Why Transits to the Birth Moon are so Challenging
- How Outer Planet Transits to the Moon Affect Family Life
- Cancerians, Memory and Emotion
- The Moon Signs and their Emotional Habits
- 2010 Eclipses–How do They Affect You?
- Eclipses: Moving Beyond the Four Walls of the Known
- Using the Daily Moon Sign to your Advantage
- How To Use The Moon For A Daily Emotional Weather Report
- Understanding Mercury Aspects to the Moon
- The Void of Course Moon–A Lunar Sabbath?
- Fool’s Gold—the Slippery Slope of the South Node
More Articles from the Series about the Lesser-Known Aspects:
- The Not so Minor Aspects—Results of Our Research
- Understanding Semisquares—Your Input Needed
- Understanding the Sesquiquadrate—Your Input Needed
- Understanding Septiles–Your Input Needed
- Understanding Quintiles—What’s YOUR Talent?
- Understanding the BiQuintile—Your Input Needed
- Quincunx vs. BiQuintile–an Answer from Numerology?
- Understanding the Mundane Square—Your Input Needed
- Breathing Refined Air: The Esoteric Aspects
- Is the Semi-Sextile a Good Aspect or a Bad One?
- Pluto and the transiting Antiscia–not Over ’til It’s Over
- The Antiscia are Coming! The Antiscia are Coming!
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