Stay in FLOW | The Scales of the Heart
Every New Moon invites us into a moment of recalibration, a quiet interval in which one cycle gives way to another. The Sun entered Libra on September 21, marking the beginning of a new solar season in the Northern Hemisphere.
Yet the days between the equinox and this New Moon offer a time of adjustment, as we gradually attune ourselves to the changing rhythms of the macrocosmos. The New Moon brings this transition inward, inviting us to find our bearings for the cycle ahead. And Libra asks us to begin with balance.
Represented by the scales, Libra invites us to contemplate the relationship between opposing forces | giving and receiving, self and other, reason and intuition, what we desire and what we know to be true. Its indecisiveness often emerges from the desire to weigh every possibility, to consider every perspective before committing to a choice. Yet discernment asks us to recognize when the weighing must end and trust must begin.
Balance is not a fixed point we eventually reach, but a living relationship with ourselves, continually adjusted through the choices we make and the relationships we cultivate.
Ruled by Venus, the planet of beauty, desire, values and relationship, Libra brings us to the intelligence of the heart. And as Venus moves through the depths of Scorpio, alongside Mercury's retrograde invitation to revisit what lies beneath the surface, we are asked to look beyond the appearance of harmony and examine the foundations upon which our lives are built. The systems we belong to, the relationships we maintain, the time and energy we invest, and the values we claim to honor all deserve a closer look.
Reciprocity begins with the willingness to recognize where the scales have tipped and the courage to restore their measure.
Venus carries us between these two dimensions of existence | the relational world of Libra and the deeper mysteries of Scorpio, where intimacy meets vulnerability, endings give way to beginnings, and the visible touches the unseen. It is this liminal space that brings particular meaning to my being here in Oaxaca, a land where the traditions of Día de los Muertos invite us to remember those who came before us and renew the bonds between the living and the dead.
Through offerings of flowers, food, photographs and memories, love becomes an act of remembrance. But I find myself contemplating something deeper within this tradition | the reciprocity of remembering. We come from somewhere. We have received something, even when what was passed down arrived through silence, pain or absence. To honor our ancestors is also to acknowledge the circumstances in which they lived, the resources they lacked, the taboos they could not break, and the truths they may never have had the freedom to speak.
We live in a time increasingly shaped by the language of transgenerational trauma, as we learn to recognize the wounds that travel through family lines. This awareness can be transformative, but our ancestors deserve to be seen beyond the pain they passed on. They, too, lived within the limitations of their time, shaped by their own fears, circumstances and inherited silences. Scorpio holds these hidden stories, the mysteries and unspoken truths that continue to influence us long after their origins have disappeared from memory.
Perhaps ancestral healing also asks us to restore the scales | to acknowledge what hurt us without reducing those who came before us to their wounds; to understand without excusing, to forgive without pretending that nothing happened, and to remember without remaining bound to the past. Forgiveness does not require forgetting. It allows us to transform our relationship with what happened, so that what we inherit does not have to determine what we become.
As I write these words from Oaxaca, I find myself living this reflection in my own body. I am here to honor the land and the medicine that María Sabina introduced me to through my encounter with the niños sagrados. What began as an opening has become an ongoing journey of integration, asking me to embody what I have received with humility, integrity and respect.
There are moments on this path when I feel like an orphan, walking alone with the responsibility of making sense of what I have experienced. I find myself questioning whether I am carrying these teachings with the reverence they deserve, whether I am honoring their origins while remaining true to my own unfolding, and how to continue walking this emerging of what some call neo-shamanic path without losing myself in the weight of what it asks of me.
Sometimes the soul feels the full measure of its own becoming. There is so much to hold, so much to integrate, and so much that cannot yet be explained.
And then, in the midst of this solitude, life reminds me of the invisible threads that hold me.
During an intimate moment of initiation here, as I sat with the three dots and felt the medicine moving through me, I became acutely aware of the presence of my catrina beside me. I had been carrying the weight of how lonely this path can feel, of how much my soul is enduring in its effort to honour what it has received. And suddenly, I was moved to tears by the simple fact of being witnessed. Someone was there, holding space for my vulnerability without needing to understand or resolve everything I was experiencing.
Those tears were an acknowledgement of love.
They reminded me that although my inner journey is mine to walk, I do not walk through life alone. There are invisible threads connecting me to my ancestors, to the guides I sense accompanying me, and to the friends who have witnessed the different versions of myself that have emerged through the years and keep sending me messages of love and connection. These are relationships built across different chapters of my life, held together by something deeper than proximity or circumstance. They are the people who have seen my light and my shadow, who allow me to arrive as I am, without asking me to become someone easier to understand.
Perhaps this is reciprocity in its most human form | not always an equal exchange of what we can measure, but the willingness to be present for one another. To give and receive witness. To allow ourselves to be held, especially when we have become accustomed to holding so much for others.
This is also where I find the deeper meeting of Libra and Scorpio. Libra teaches me to examine the balance of my relationships; Scorpio reminds me that true intimacy requires us to enter the places where we feel most vulnerable. One asks me to recognize the value of what I share, while the other reminds me that not everything sacred needs to be revealed. I am learning to share the wisdom of my experiences without exposing every layer of the experience itself, allowing what transforms me to nourish my work while protecting what still needs silence and time.
The feminine principle offers its own guidance here. There is intelligence in receptivity, in allowing an experience to settle before giving it meaning, in trusting that not everything needs to become an offering to the world. Sometimes the most profound act of coherence is to turn inward, receive what is being given, and let it change us quietly.
As this Libra New Moon meets the mysteries of Scorpio, I am reminded that balance is about what we carry forward, what we return to the past, what we choose to forgive, and what we allow love to transform.
So take some time during this New Moon cycle o explore your own Libra dimension.
Look at the house Libra occupies in your natal chart and consider where you have invested your time, energy, love and attention.
Notice the relationships and systems that sustain you, the patterns that have become imbalanced, and the places where receiving feels as unfamiliar as giving generously.
Let the symbolism of Día de los Muertos inspire a deeper act of reflection | honor those who came before you, acknowledge what their lives made possible, and consciously choose what you wish to carry forward and what you are ready to release.
The scales of the heart are restored not by forgetting the past, but by changing how we carry it. By honoring what we have received, returning what is not ours to hold, and allowing love to become something we embody rather than something we owe. xx 💜
CATrina, my oracle companion on this journey through the Land of the Dead, reminds me that even when we walk through the mysteries of life and death, we are never truly alone. Some souls arrive as witnesses, walking beside us as we honor the seen and unseen, the living and the ancestors. Some journeys become even more sacred when shared with a friend who holds space for our love, our grief, and the invisible threads that continue to connect us.
Love you May.
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