Revisiting My Embodiment Era ("Francesca" by Hozier)

Now that we're now finally and truly out of it, I'm taking a brief look at how the Uranus in Taurus transit manifested in my life. For better or worse, astrology is best understood in the rear view. It's hard to properly assess exactly how a transit impact your life until it's over and you can see the full arc of the story. Adam Elenbaas of Nightlight astrology mentioned during his latest video about Uranus in Gemini about how, as it transits through a sign, Uranus tends to amplify the themes of the ruling planet. If we apply this idea to Uranus in Taurus, the areas of life Venus rules over - relationships, beauty, art, finances, pleasure - would've become more prominent. And for some reason, something clicked for me. One of the things I realized early on in the transit through Taurus of how I abandoned a lot of the things I enjoyed.

Our trek through Uranus in Taurus started 8 years ago today, on 15 May 2018. I remember that day, surprisingly enough. Okay, maybe not the full day but I remember what was happening that week. I had recently been promoted to team lead of my section, so I was starting a new period in my career. I had gotten a pretty nice raise, which allowed me to fully become the breadwinner for my family. We unexpectedly became a single income household, so that was also around the time we took my oldest out of daycare because it was an unnecessary expense. In hindsight, a lot was happening and it laid the foundation of where I am today. That amazing raise I got? I make more than twice that amount now. The promotion? It set me up to get the certifications and skills that eventually got me hired at my current employer. COVID didn't affect us as much as other families because we already had a stay-at-home parent. I'm extremely grateful now but I'd be lying if all this change didn't come with a lot of inner turmoil. This transit was moving through my 12th House (House of Self-Undoing) and I definitely went through it. Psychologically, probably one of my darkest periods - and I have plenty of morbid, angsty poetry to prove it. 

Understanding transits at a basic level is pretty simple. You take the planet's significations and cross it with the zodiac sign's characteristics, and you'll have a good idea about what sort of stuff to expect. To narrow it down more or to better understand how it might affect you personally, you look at what House the transit falls in for a specific event/natal chart and add on the House significations. Uranus is the planet of unexpected change, revelations, insights, and revolutions. I gave a basic overview of Taurus themes above. For me, a Gemini rising, this transit fell in my 12th House, which signifies the subconscious mind, intuition, spirituality, isolation, dreams, and hidden enemies. To find out what this transit may have impacted for you, look at your natal chart and find the House the sign, Taurus, falls in.

Here are a few of the big lessons I learned while Uranus tore a path through my 12th House:

• Your value is Intrinsic. 

I think this is especially difficult for Cancer and Libra (and to some extent, Pisces) because those two signs are particularly focused on close relationships. Cancer is focused on family (motherhood in particular) and Libra is often associated with partnerships and marriage. As such, it can be instinctual to yoke your value to what you are for other people. For a couple years, I lost myself. I filled my days with all the things needed to sustain my family and my career and in the process, I dropped a lot of the things I used to love. I stopped reading as much. My spiritual practice had faded to nonexistence. I exercised but not as frequently as I would've liked. Uranus in Aries was go, go, go! And when I had a chance to stop and look in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. So when I encountered narcissists and other selfish monsters in real life, my assumption was I was the problem. I wasn't providing enough value to them to be worthy of decent treatment. It's taken 8 years but I finally understand - you're always worthy. And how people treat you is more a reflection about how they feel about themselves rather than what you deserve.

• Ground in your own unique vision of Motherhood.

During this transit, I experienced a lot of firsts in motherhood and I also became a mother again, when I had my second child during COVID. As I've written about before, my relationship with my mother when I was growing up left a lot to be desired. It left a lot of insecurities about motherhood - whether I would be a good mom, if I could control my moody nature and quick temper, whether I could raise a family while working a full 40 hours (or more) a week. And, in the throes of postpartum depression, I struggled with believing I could take care of two children when I could barely care for myself. I remember when I got home from the hospital after giving birth. My dad had bought me my favorite takeout meal - Tofu Pad Thai - and while eating it on the couch, I broke down in tears. The only person who noticed was my oldest. He's such a sweet, thoughtful kid and he did the right thing - instead of dealing with it himself, he got my husband, who put away my food and helped me into bed. After that, I had to breathe and take a step back to see the larger picture. Like all things, you must have a vision for the type of parent you want to be - or rather, the type of parent you want your children to remember. This is your anchor - and when you're caught up in the moment, this is what grounds you. I don't want my children to have to cope with an emotionally volatile mother. I've been there....it's not fun. Children need that Taurean energy - solid, dependable, practical, nourishing - in order to grow.

• Treat Yo'self.

I personally describe myself as rather frugal. I've always been money conscious and concerned about financial stability. Being unable to support my family is a big fear of mine, one that has grown with my income. And that probably won't change. What has changed is how I approach it. As it happens, the 12th House is also a place of hidden fears so when Uranus drops in, you may be forced to change how you face those fears. Up until the past few years, I wouldn't spend money on myself. I'd be generous with others (I'm a great gift giver) but it felt selfish and wrong to waste resources on anything as frivolous as my own desires. As I've succeeded in my career this past decade, I've come to see the gradual ascent into affluence as a permission slip from the Universe that it's okay to buy myself a little treat once in a while. Don't buy out the whole bookstore, but a paperback or two (and a coffee to sip while you browse) is okay. Hardcover books with sprayed edges won't break the bank and neither will mid-priced luxury skincare. Order what you want, not the cheapest item on the menu. For a sensory experience, some people get interested in wine or whisky - I started collecting perfumes, among other pretty things. And while I still stash away quite a bit of my paycheck for a rainy day, I've gotten out of the habit of denying myself life's little pleasures. Because you can't take it with you.

• Get out of your head (and into your body). 

I'm coming up on my 5-year Pole-versary in June. It's hard to believe it's been that long - I thought I'd be better at it by now. Objectively, I am - I can do things I couldn't have even conceived of 5 years ago. But I can't do a handstand without pole support. Ballerina is still a flexibility nightmare I dread every class. One side is a bit more wonky than the other and, after injuring my shoulder last year, there are some intermediate moves that have become an unexpected struggle. But I did graduate to the "Advanced" class (and I'm moderately successful, most of the time). I've gotten better at slowing down and flowing with the music during my freestyles. More than once this year, the pole coaches have commented on how strong I am, which is not a word I would've used to describe my physique before I started. After five years, I still love the community and the art form. And I'm happier. Even when I'm not in the mood or it's after work and I'm tired, I never regret going to class. It's become my outlet for all the frustration that builds up from the pandemonium of modern life. For 1 to 2 hours, I'm solely focused on what crazy trick I'm trying to get my body to do. I'm not thinking about work, I'm not worried about politics, I'm not even formulating what I want to write next. I'm just dancing. That's all I need to do. I cannot overstate the value of taking a mental break and indulging in the pure magic of movement. 

• It's the work that's sacred.

My spiritual journey has deepened to the point where I actively call myself a Seeker. It a moniker one of my favorite authors, Mitch Horowitz, has adopted to describe his adventures in occultism and esoterica. Within the witchcraft and occult communities, it's easy to get caught up on the aesthetics and titles. Putting together a pretty altar layout or witchy outfit is the fun part. Being anointed (by yourself or others) as High Priestess is an honor. But these things may be the results, but they're not the goal. No - the magic comes during the meditation session you didn't want to do because you're too busy. It's when a theosophical concept makes sense have reading your 3rd or 4th book about the subject. When you're doing tarot reading for the group commander and your interpretation leads to him opening up about an ordeal he's going through. It's found in every "oh my god....astrology is real" moment. You can't experience these things - the High Strangeness and the synchronistic breadcrumbs - if you don't do them. In the past 8 years, I've learned that telepathy is real (but you need to be on the same wavelength); wishes do come true (but maybe not in the way you expect); and the Universe is always willing to point you in the right direction (if you want to listen). It's the work that's sacred in all crafts. If I had a dime for every writing book I read reiterating "trust the process," I'd have a whole lotta dimes. But that doesn't make it any less true. Do the work, the rest will follow.

• You can do it alone (but you don't have to). 

For a sign ruled by Venus, Taurus is surprisingly independent. This sign is also known to be a hard worker. And Taurus is considered one of the more stubborn zodiac signs. Not a great combination - it's big "I'll do it my-fucking-self" energy, almost to the detriment of Taurus natives. And - as I learned - having that energy ruling over the House governing mental health was a problem. I have a degree in Psychology and for a long time, my approach was I'm able to handle this stuff - depression, anxiety, cyclothymia, disordered eating, etc - by myself. And, for the most part, I was able to handle it myself. Then the dam broke and I was drowning in darkness. It didn't get better until I made the choice to reach out to somebody for help. I think eventually I would've been able to make it through - but it would've taken longer, it would've been harder, and I don't know if I'd be as strong as I am today. One of the key things I learned about myself during COVID is I like being around people. It's one of the big reasons I'm not desperate for a WFH job - I need human interaction for my happiness. I'm not a true introvert, I never have been. And while I can do many things on my own - write, pole, work, cook - it feels better to have people around. People you can trust to pull you out when you start floundering.

• Don't let life kill your voice.

I started out this transit so hopeful and inspired. You can even see it in this blog - I wrote frequently and the whole vibe of what I was conveying shifted. I can barely believe the posts written when I first started this blog in 2011 were written by the same person writing this post today. My voice seemed so strong - and then somewhere around 2020, it just died. There was nothing in the well and it became so hard to create. And what I was able to pull up from the abyss was terrifying. I remember taking my daily constitutional one day in the middle of COVID (when we had rotating in-person weeks). I was 3 or 4 months pregnant and I passed an old military hotel with a metal ladder going up to the roof. I looked up at this building, which I had seen countless times before, and thought, "I should jump." I didn't, of course - and I wish that had been the extent of my intrusive thoughts - but in retrospect, it was pretty tame in comparison to the other stuff going on inside of my head. 

Eventually, after I broke down in front of my OB/GYN during my 6-week postnatal appointment, I started going to therapy. I told my therapist, BW, that when I went through a similar dark spot in college, during my mom's manic episode, I would have this desire to go outside and scream. And she asked, "Why didn't you?" The answer was....it felt silly and childish. And I didn't want to scare anyone if they heard it. I also doubted anyone would care. I silenced myself. A pattern I'm familiar with, from hiding in closets and playing small to not attract unwanted attention. As a rule, I'm very guarded with what I share with others. It's a protective mechanism - my suffering is no one's business but my own. My own burden to bear and so I did. BW's advice was to scream in the car or to sing really loud. It helps, on occasion. Not as much as talking to someone. Or writing. Getting the thoughts out helps better ones flow in. The normal state of my mind is constant chatter, ideas squirming in the white space of my days, as if the words want to leech out of my skin and orifices. It's chaos, but it's my chaos. 

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I adore this song, from the opening line, all the way to the madrigal chorus at the end. It's about Love, it's about embodiment, it's about indulging in pleasure in spite of the consequences - all of which I felt fitting as a summation of Uranus in Taurus. When you go into an experience which brings you happiness, you don't always know how it will end. Often, the ending is sad. Or even downright tragic, as we'll learn from what happened to Francesca. The accompaniment of this song feels all-consuming and by the end, it envelopes you in a sea of angelic sound. It's beautiful and quintessentially Venusian, in my opinion.

Do you think I'd give up

That this might've shook the love from me

Or that I was on the brink?

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

However, it's never just the song - although it is a masterpiece - but the story behind the song. Y'all know I'm a sucker for a great doomed romance. I present for your consideration the tale of Paulo and Francesca. For those of you who aren't read up on your obscure Italian history, Paulo and Francesca were real people. In a nutshell, Francesca was married to Paulo's brother, Giuseppe, as part of a political alliance. They fell in love and carried on an affair that lasted 10 years, until Giuseppe discovered them in bed and murdered them both. With a sword, which Francesca tried to block, according to some stories. Quite violent, so much blood. The lovers were featured prominently in Dante's Inferno, which is where Hozier draws his inspiration for the lyrics. If you've ever read Inferno, it's essentially Dante Alighieri's Burn Book. In it, he drags dozens of historical Italian figures, not least of which are those who were his critics in life. Paulo and Francesca, obviously, can be found in the third circle of Hell, which is reserved for adulterers. Their fate is to be blown about by tempests, as they were blown about in life by their passions (the metaphors are thick in the Underworld). For eternity, they must fight gusts of wind to find their way back to each other, only to be forced apart again. But hey, at least they get to hold each other for a precious moment. As you can guess, the song is from Paulo's point of view and that's exactly what he's saying. He has no regrets, even though it ended as it did, and if given the chance, he'd do it all over again. And if he could just hold her again for a minute, he'll endure whatever torture the afterlife has in store.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

When the heart would cease

Ours never knew peace

What good would it be on the far side of things?

Side note - I always hear the first line as "Think I give a hoot?" rather than "Think I'd give up?" I don't know why. It certainly doesn't fit the renaissance-theme of the whole piece. Maybe it's because I'm aggressively Americanized. I prefer the tale of the Hatfields and the McCoys over Romeo & Juliet. I can imagine our storybook lover - we'll call him Paul - telling the story of his true love (Franny) outside his cabin in Appalachia. Is it worth it to experience transcendent love in this lifetime, even if only for a moment, even if it would destroy you? Old Paul (speaking through Hozier's immortal voice) screams an unambivalent "Yes! Always! Every time!" into the foggy, forested mountains. He doesn't give a hoot! He'd do it again in a heartbeat - faster, harder, more fully than he did the first time! Thus spake the doomed lover forevermore. Uff-da, I got carried away again....

Though I know my heart would break

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah

When I started this post, I was solidly in my Hozier era. Still am, though less so - we've got some Florence thrown in for good measure. I've collected a couple poetry books, I listen to "Too Sweet" frequently (though not on repeat anymore), and I'm letting my hair grow out questionably long (again). We're in fairytale princess/bog witch territory now - that's how long my hair is. It's giving mermaid. Nay, it's giving hauntingly beautiful yet bloodthirsty siren floating of the coast of Sicily, awaiting unsuspecting young sailors whom I plan to lure to their watery doom. My apologies - this post ended up a bit rambling but I think I've said everything I wanted to say. Please enjoy "Francesca" by Hozier. Video below.

"Francesca" Video

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I would like to take a moment to honor the life of Gordon White, who died this past Tuesday. Gordon played an early role in my Uranus in Taurus journey. I re-read "The Chaos Protocols"; I bonded with an old friend over being mutual listeners of his podcast, Rune Soup; and I got into the semiannual ritual of listening to his half-year astrology forecasts with Austin Coppock. Even though I started listening to Rune Soup less over the years, especially after Gordon started going down the "plandemic" road, I still looked forward to those forecasts. I'm saddened that there won't be an H2 2026 episode. At least, not one with Gordon's unique spin on things. I may have disagreed with some of his more recent views, but I enjoyed his insights on magical and occult topics. He brought so many people together and provided a space for many Seekers. I will forever hold close to my heart his guidance to "find the others." May your ancestors greet you, Gordon, as you go on to the next great adventure.