When the Light Goes Out

Cawnawyn Mor
Sep 20
5 min read

A woman with red hair and black headscarf, wearing layered necklaces, stands against a leafy green background, exuding a confident mood.

A Virgo Eclipse Reckoning

"The light is swallowed.

The monsters rise.

But beneath the grief, a thread remains:

We are not alone."

When the Monsters Rise

This Solar Eclipse in Virgo feels like the world going dark—not symbolically, but viscerally.

We’re in a season of grief, pressure, and profound reckoning. The astrology reflects it: a New Moon in the final degrees of Virgo opposing Saturn in Pisces, with Mars squaring Pluto. It’s like a psychic pressure cooker—tight, volatile, relentless.

A robed, muscular man sits on a chair holding a torch, wearing a hood. The setting is classical, with neutral and reddish tones. — Cronus, the Greek Titan, consuming the stone he believes to be his child

When I first looked at this chart, my heart dropped. The opposition to Saturn is no small thing.

Saturn isolates. It starves. It imposes.

In the final degree of Virgo—a sign of service, suffering, and control—this eclipse carries the emotional weight of a system breaking under its own rigidity. The old structures are cracking, but instead of freedom, what rises first is fear.

And I feel it—not just astrologically, but globally, viscerally, maternally. This world has been showing us its pain, and this eclipse season is dragging that pain to the surface like an infected tooth finally being pulled.

Solar eclipse with the sun's corona glowing around the darkened moon, creating a dramatic spectacle against a black sky.

Key Takeaways for this Solar Eclipse

•New Moon Solar Eclipse at 29° Virgo

– Final decan: associated with sickness, shame, sacrifice, and healing through crisis.

– Symbolizes the eclipse of purity and clarity; the descent into collective fog.

•Opposition to Saturn in Pisces (0°)

– Isolation, spiritual weight, loneliness, karmic burdens.

– The grief of the mystic who feels the divine go silent.

•Mars at 29° Libra square Pluto in Aquarius

– A combustive moment: identity and action face pressure from the collective.

– The urge to fight for truth—without knowing who the enemy is.

Mother’s Mirror: Isolation, Sorrow & Sacred Duty

This eclipse tore something open in me. Not just as an astrologer. Not just as a priestess. But as a mother.

Woman with red hair and a navy headscarf gestures dramatically. She's wearing a navy blouse and brown skirt, with foliage in the background.

The world feels frightening right now. We’ve seen it again—violence, isolation, numbness, a disregard for life that seems to creep further into the souls of our youth. Children harming children. A culture lost in echo chambers and algorithms.

And I keep asking:

How do I raise connected, grounded, loving children in a world that is so disconnected?

How do I teach empathy, presence, and responsibility in an age of spirals and screens?

Because I see what happens when we spiral, I know that loneliness. I’ve lived it.

Woman in a leather jacket sits on a ledge holding a coffee cup, with the Space Needle and leafless trees in the background. Overcast sky. — Circa late 2019, in the infancy of my spiritual awakening and just beginning to understand my connection with my guides

There was a time in my life—a truly dark time—when I felt like I was disappearing. I was drowning in the belief that I was utterly alone. So small, so insignificant. The kind of aloneness that swallows you.

And then, something happened.

In the pit of that despair, I heard voices—not my own. Maybe they were my guides. Maybe ancestors. Perhaps just the part of me that still knew how to listen. But they said:

“You are not alone. We are with you. We are holding you. Right now, in space and time.”

And I felt them. Not metaphorically. Physically. As if hands were holding mine, just beyond the veil. That moment changed everything. It didn’t erase the pain—but it reminded me that even in isolation, I am part of something greater.

When the Sun Goes Dark

A Solar Eclipse blocks the Sun—our light, our clarity, our identity.

In Virgo, it hides the place where we strive to do better, where we serve, where we heal.

And in these final degrees of Virgo, the symbolic terrain is brutal. We are reckoning with plague. With shame. With impermanence.

The body breaks down. Time marches on. Death reminds us that we are temporary. Fragile. Mortal.

And yet—this is also where sacred service begins.

Because in this place, stripped of light and ego, we meet what truly matters.

Sacred Responsibility & Living by Example

I think about my kids every day when I feel this eclipse.

How do I help them carry the weight of being human, without crushing them beneath it?

I can’t control their future. But I can be their guide.

I can model wholeness, not perfection.

I can show up for them—in grief, in truth, in prayer.

I can include them in my rituals. Speak plainly. Invite them into the meaning. Not shelter them, but let them feel life’s depth while still in my arms.

Because this eclipse asks us all:

Are you going to isolate, or will you integrate?

Will you spiral in, or reach out?

Spiral staircase with white marble steps and gold railings, viewed from above, creating a hypnotic circular pattern. Minimalist and elegant design.

Virgo teaches care. Saturn teaches weight. This eclipse is about responsibility—but not martyrdom. It’s about making meaning in the midst of chaos. It’s about remembering that even if your ripple only touches one person, it is enough.