The Sun moves into the Tropical Zodiac Sign of Scorpio on October 22, 2020, just at 10:01 PM.
“How now? Why starts thou? What, doth death affright?”
- Henry VI, pt. 1 (IV.i.32)
The Death Card. Again, the death card. Scorpio. 5 of Cups (Disappointment); 6 of Cups (Pleasure); 7 of Cups (Debauch) — Mars in Scorpio; Sun in Scorpio; Venus in Scorpio, all lined up on those cards. The other correspondence of note? Pluto, Neptune, Moon.
My first decent astrology teacher hammered, absolutely nailed into place, the idea that Scorpio, a fixed, water sign, was associated with the 8th House and the nomenclature for that astrological house was “Sex, Death, and Taxes.” Sense of finality to that way of wording it.
Not every Scorpio is a sex freak, and not every Scorpio is absolute in all matters, but as a guideline, yeah, the nature of the beast doesn’t stray far from that manifest destiny, “Sex, death, and taxes.”
The cards for Scorpio illustrate some of what might be in play, even now, and of course, we’re dealing with the “Reality TV” of US politics, to use the expression the Europeans who were watching, and even so? Mercury, retrograde in Scorpio, but slipping back into Libra, and no, can’t say this snuck up1, either.2
The Scorpio cards spell out a pattern of loss, love, and excessive pleasure. “Disappointment,” the 5, is about not living up to expectations, but then, were those expectations unrealistic in the first place? 6 is “Pleasure,” comes after the disappointment, maybe readjusted expectations, and finally, there’s 7, “Debauch,” about finding a good thing and exploiting it to the extreme, maybe no longer fun.
The Death Card, and Scorpio in general, is about regeneration. Renewal, through regeneration. On a purely metaphorical, metaphysical level? Something has to die so it can be reborn. Everybody from classical poets to modern country singers use roses as that example.
Death carries a universal kind of symbolism, inherent in most mystery schools, as only in death can there be rebirth — regeneration.
Trying to get a good handle on the meaning of the Scorpio senses, I was thinking through an example of mole, a local dish. While I was first exposed to it in Austin, the better examples tend to be 70 miles further south. Mole, pronounced moe-lay, is a rich chocolate sauce served over chicken, or any other combination of Mexican foods.
The pandemic greatly curtailed my continuing quest for excellence in Tex-Mex cuisine and explorations in appealing dives. However, that memory of the textured sauce, mostly just cacao with a hint of red pepper? Rich and fragrant? Couple of places did it well, and some places better than others. Within the internecine taco wars between Austin and San Antonio? I would suggest that a half dozen little taco joints mostly south of downtown all have a mole sauce that puts Austin’s artisanal crap in the dumpster.
The connection between the Scorpio and the mole sauce? Hot, smooth, sweet with no added sugars, just a chocolate layered with some kind of fiery pepper. That captures the essence of Scorpio.
Scorpio 2020Astrologically, playing with those cards? Small disappointments lead to change. Change leads to pleasure. Excessive pleasure is debauchery. Not all bad. Just remember, though, that the central idea embodied in Scorpio is transformation. Willingly, or unwittingly?
I learned not to argue with the Fates, and I learned to bend to the winds of change. But that’s me.
- Should look back and see what I said about the year ahead, back then. ↩
- Usual declaimers apply, see fineprint for details and disclosures. ↩