Feed Your Moon


Feed Your Moon

A starving Moon can plummet your emotions


Astrologically, at the root of depression, I believe, is a starving Moon. If your natal lunar needs are not being met then the rest of your horoscope has a difficult time functioning. I have always said this to my clients and have found it to be true over and over again. The Moon is our instinctive feeling nature. It’s where we feel safest, most nourished, and nurtured. The Moon represents the deepest needs we have as individuals.

Stifle someone’s Moon and you’re stifling their emotional well-being. PERIOD.

I’m going through a mild postpartum depression episode these days, my friends. No, I didn’t just have a baby. I did, however, recently take home a three month old puppy. Unless you’ve been through postpartum depression, you may not relate to the feelings of sadness that accompany what is supposed to be such an incredibly joyful event. I did suffer through postpartum depression with the birth of my first child, almost sixteen years ago. It was one of the darkest times of my life and I don’t ever want to go there again.

At the root of my depressive episodes is always a starving Moon. I was born with the Moon in Sagittarius, in the 8th House of Depth and Transformation. My Moon is closely conjunct Neptune, square my 12th house Jupiter in Pisces, and trine my 12th house Venus in Aries.

In English? With the Moon in Sagittarius my overwhelming need is to have freedom of movement to expand my horizons, pursue the deeper meaning of life, and experience adventures. I also need to spread my wisdom on deep psychological (8th house) and metaphysical matters (Sagittarius) so that I might heal (8th house) and inspire others (Sagittarius). The Moon next to Neptune and square Jupiter in Pisces in the 12th house speaks to my deep, over-exaggerated need for alone time and privacy; for peace. And the trine to Venus helps me experience pockets of joy in those moments of helping to heal the suffering of others.

Making space

With the birth of my son I was suddenly put in this prison that is otherwise known as motherhood. I realize it’s a dramatic statement for some to read but please, understand my needs and my visceral reaction. I felt that all of my freedom was suddenly gone. That I would never again have the time or peace and quiet or personal space to pursue the interests that fed my soul.

It had nothing to do with loving my son. I loved him with all of my soul. But it had everything to do with not being able to blend my new life of chaotic motherhood with getting my lunar needs met. I would nurse my son and look at him so peaceful and I would cry. I would cry because I felt very much at the time that making sure he had all of his needs met came at the sacrifice of my own needs.

It took time but after about eight months the depression went away. I adjusted to motherhood and I found ways to feed my Moon in little ways. What really helped me was that my ex-mother-in-law would watch my son for me for a few hours each week so I could have my “alone time” and do whatever I needed to in order to nourish my soul. My Moon. Having the freedom to go out without the shackles of baby stuff was really all I needed at the time.

Nourish yourself

And here I am now, with this little adorable puppy, feeling a lot like I felt all those years ago. The difference? Now I know Astrology and I know exactly what I need to do in order to make sure the depression doesn’t get worse.

For the puppy, for my children and most importantly, for myself I have to feed my Moon. Are you a caregiver?  Then remember to put your oxygen mask on first. Otherwise, how can you take care of anyone else?

What is your Moon sign? What house does it live in your horoscope? And what are the aspects that the Moon makes to the rest of your chart? Learn more about this and you’ll make sure that you never starve. Happy Moon equals happy life.


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Chicken Soup for the Soul: Forever Changed

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Forever Changed

Chicken Soup for the Soul: New Moms

BY: Michelle Sedas

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.

On March 9, 2004, the day my first child was born, I became forever changed. As I held my newborn baby, I recalled a moment, nearly two years before, when I was hospitalized for a second time in my life for depression. As I stood waiting to be discharged, I vowed to get better, to never return physically or mentally to that place. It was on this day that I made a promise to myself to do whatever it took to overcome this debilitating illness so that I could one day be a depression-free new mom.

As I built my new life, I went to counseling, twice a week at first, and less frequently over time. I worked on my counseling exercises at home. I read uplifting books, exercised, ate well, and began to interact again socially with others. I started a new, part-time, low-stress job where I felt I was making a difference. Months later, to my delight, I became pregnant. And for nine months, in preparation for first-time motherhood, I continued to improve upon my mental state of mind.

Then the day came when my baby, Diego, was born. It was like a scene in a movie. The doctor set him upon my chest, and I looked in awe at this tiny creature who moments before had been nicely snuggled within my warm womb. I soaked up his essence, the tiny fingers and toes, the soft, damp skin, and something inside of me clicked. My old self faded away, and a new person emerged: “Michelle the Mother.” At that moment, I knew in my heart that those turbulent, depressed years were in the past. I was now a mother, responsible for taking care of a helpless, innocent baby, and I wholeheartedly accepted this job. My focus was now on providing the most wonderful environment I could for this precious one that God had entrusted into my care. I knew then that I would love this baby with all of my heart and soul, and that I would continue to keep my mind healthy so I could be the best mother possible for him.

As the days passed, I sang him made-up songs. Cheerfully, I woke up in the middle of the night to feed him. I gently rocked him when he cried (which was often!). I had fallen completely in love with my angel. Many of my family and friends saw the change within me. My mom said my face looked different. I “glowed.” “Michelle the Mother” was a title that suited me well. But as much as motherhood had changed me, and as happy as I felt, I knew that I was predisposed to postpartum depression. I vigilantly kept a check on my state of mind, doing whatever I could to stay healthy, allowing me to remain a depression-free new mom.

Becoming a new mother has proven to be the most positive, life-altering experience of my existence. While there are times when those clouds of depression still threaten to overwhelm me, my love for my children propels me forward. My two angels have rekindled my inner light and left me forever changed.