This Thanksgiving week there’s a magical event happening in the morning sky, one that begs the question: when am I central to what occurs in the world around me?
Wednesday morning, November 27th, about an hour before the Sun rises, the waning crescent Moon will sweep over the star Spica, the brightest star in the constellation Virgo, the maiden. Such a move is called an occultation, which means to hide something from view.
In ancient cultures it was held that every star, every planet, the Sun and even the Moon was governed by a presiding divinity. These divinities had certain qualities or even tasks, which were augmented or diminished by celestial events, like eclipses or conjunctions, or, as is the case this week, by occultation.
Add to this the idea that Spica, as the brightest star in the region of Virgo, was always associated with abundance, with the harvest, and with birth in its most divine aspect ~ as a mystery of human origin not on the earth, but among the stars ~ and an idea begins to form about how we might engage with Wednesday’s event.
On occasion, the Moon will hide this star from view, and this is what gives rise to the question: does it have anything to do with us on Earth? When do we become central to the events happening around us? And if the Moon and stars make a certain gesture that we can see, are we called to respond in some way? And if so, what will we do? Sing a song, say a prayer, offer flowers? Perhaps it is enough to hold in one’s heart a willingness for beauty, and a commitment to participate in its becoming, so that, when the star of abundance slips out of view, the Earth will know that we’re aware, and that for a moment, we’ll act like it.
