Recovering Identity in Eclipse Season
Identity.
Ever evolving. Losing itself and finding its way back again.
This eclipse season has me reflecting deeply on “identity” and what it truly is.
Like so many, I felt a redefining moment of my identity after I married, graduated college, and during the pandemic. More recently, my identity was transformed after having children. I’ve added labels to my identity, such as “witch,” “astrologer,” “composer,” etc., so I can better define who I am to strangers who may be interested.
But who am I really?
Does it all come down to a few pieces of paper with our birth records and social security printed? Does that prove someone exists in this world?
This Mercury Retrograde has brought me the alarming realization that my birth documents were missing, and I’ve since waited in social security offices and found a notary to rectify this situation. Fun! (not…)
Between marriage and two kids, things fall through the cracks.
Even my own definition of “self”.
Mothers face an identity crisis upon bearing children and caring for them (fathers, too!) Suddenly, this entirely dependent little human needs so much of our energy, care, and time, and it can be incredibly hard to find ourselves again.
Both mother and child survive the harrowing experience of birth and awkwardly discover what it means to be thrust into such an intimate relationship. For some, this process feels natural and harmonious, but for others, it can challenge every expectation and feel especially demanding. Most people’s experiences, I think, exist in the area between, leaning toward one feeling or another depending on any given day.
Through all of this, the psychological demands of parenting and raising a child, in addition to grappling with our own childhoods and re-parenting the self, make us question our foundations.
What happens to the structure of our identity when we discover the shaky foundation beneath?
We can chip away, crack open, or even crumble apart.
Then we have to rebuild. But what is left to rebuild?
If we examine the most recent Lunar Eclipse in Libra, this lunation held a powerful reminder of finding oneself through a relationship with another. In seeing and experiencing another person, we are made aware of what we are and, sometimes more importantly, what we are not.
On a personal note, this Lunar Eclipse had me reflecting upon a relationship that I had let into my life. It became so entangled with my identity that I’ve had serious trouble leaving it behind ever since. I lost myself in a relationship with them, thinking I was happy when, really, my true essence was gradually slipping away.
Although the person in question is no longer physically present in my life, I think of them daily. Our story is carried in my heart and has inspired much motivation, healing, and extensive art in recent years.
I couldn’t let go of them. How could I amputate this part of myself when the memory had become such a powerful generator?
The answer lies in the heartbreak and the truth of that memory. This person revealed themselves to be manipulative, power-hungry, deceitful, and degrading. The shallowness of this person’s ideals became clear to me, and they were everything I never wanted to become. The toxicity of jealousy, insecurity, lies, and judgment poisoned our friendship, and I was able to make a complete break years ago when I suspended contact with this person.
The Eclipse made me realize that this baggage was something I didn’t want to carry around any longer. The shadow side of this person was still existing inside of me too, and their words have haunted me ever since.
It was time to kill them.
Not actually, physically “kill them,” but what’s a witch to do?
Bury them.
With a reverence for the memories shared together but a complete release of the toxicity and burden. A plot for a burying ritual was formed.
It was days after I made this plan that I realized all of my identification documents had suddenly disappeared. (How appropriate for an Aries eclipse in my natal first house!)
A friend jokingly suggested that “I could re-invent myself!” if I wanted to. I could change my name, background, and life story. Of course, this can’t actually be done, but it got me thinking…
My name, my identity, was deeply tied to this other person's story and furthermore, my identity had lost itself in becoming a mother in the last three years. I’m finally emerging from the sacred hibernation of breastfeeding and caring for young infants. My children, while still young, are more tolerant of my desire to socialize and work on my craft, and I’m getting more opportunities to reenter the community.
I’ve emerged stronger and wiser than ever before.
But who am I?
Who do I want to become?
Recently, I was scrolling through social media, and someone summarized the “clear, simple step plan to manifesting the life you want.”
It essentially was,
1. Envision the thing you want to become. That is the “future” you.
2. Now, make only decisions that “future” you would make.
Poof! You’re enlightened!
While this is oversimplified, it begs the question - “who is future me? What would I like that to be?”
Right now, we stand primed at the perfect position to ALL imagine our “future self.”
Pluto's entry into Aquarius for the next 20 years offers an opportunity for total transformation. Jupiter’s conjunction with Uranus in Taurus on April 20th signals the beginning of a time of massive invention, innovation, and expansion.
How perfect that the eclipses are here to remind us to let go of what our “past self” is still desperately clinging to.
Shedding our old skin holds incredible potential, and our “future” reality is waiting to be lived.
I’ve made the resolution that while knowing myself and my “identity” is important so that I may feel grounded in the reality of my experience, I will never be able to truly concretize that identity.
It is meant to shift and grow and change and evolve.
It is meant to exist beyond past relationships, society-given labels, and the emotions I am experiencing at the moment.
It longs to expand, and the only way it can is by letting go of what it has outgrown.
More importantly, it is something I can work to craft through my decisions and aspirations, but it extends beyond what I can completely control.
Loss to Liberation.
Identity requires surrender.
Surrendering what is no longer necessary,
surrendering complete control,
surrendering to the faith that it is evolving as it is meant to.
During this Solar Eclipse, I encourage you to use this energy and reflect on what needs to be surrendered so that you may bravely progress toward that “future you.” Experience liberation!
Let the potential growth of your identity fuel you and drive you forward.
Shed the old skins and be reborn.
May you manifest a life of divine purpose and glory,
for YOU are worthy,
and you are FREE.
Blessed be.