And now for the Composite Moon in action!
Continuing this week’s fascination with composite charts, I want to take a look at the Moon in the composite charts and how clearly it can affect attraction. I’ll take a look at five different examples:
The first example is the composite Moon with my major crush (one of the stars of yesterday’s post). The composite Moon is in Scorpio (10th house) and the only major aspect it makes is a trine to Mars in Cancer. The second is the composite Moon with my ex-boyfriend (one of the stars from the first part of the Neptune oppositions post), which is in Leo (8th house), conjunct Mercury, sextile Mars in Gemini and trine Neptune. Third is the composite moon with the gentleman I attempted to make my rebound; it is in Sagittarius (3rd house), almost exactly conjunct Neptune, sextile Pluto, trine Mercury, and square Jupiter. The final two cases are composites with two gentlemen who approached me (and while I was interested, I was also going through a period of deep depression and allowed both opportunities to wither) and just happened to be born less than two weeks apart from each other. The composite Moon with the elder of the two is in Scorpio (11th house) and opposes Mercury. The composite Moon with the younger of the two is in Cancer (8th house) and trines Jupiter. Most importantly, it squares a Pluto conjunct Saturn OPPOSITE Sun conjunct Venus axis.
What strikes me is how much I can learn by looking at where the composite Moon falls in my natal chart. In fact, in most of these cases, I find the composite Moon’s placement in my natal chart to be more informative than its placement in the composite chart (however, they are the same in one case). The other thing that I find interesting is that these are all Fire and Water placements. My own chart is, with the exception of outer planets, completely bereft of Fire and Water placements. I have always been an adherent to the “we are attracted to what we lack” theory, and this would seem to be more evidence that, at least for me, that is the case.
Both Scorpio Moons fall in my natal twelfth house, and both of those relationships, such as they are, are clouded by improper perceptions, people lying to conceal their feelings, and strong romantic desire. These Moons are not heavily aspected in the composite chart either. Combining this with the Scorpio placement, there is a heady and dangerous quality to the attraction in both of these cases. Indeed, these two men flat-out turn me on (or had the ability to turn me on) more than any two men I have ever met. Both men bring out a flirty competitiveness in me, and during the time that I knew them (my communication with the one is rare and almost non-existent with the second one), both claimed that they brought out the best in me. To some degree, I think they might be right…
The Sagittarius Moon is the only composite located in the bottom half of the chart, and it is the only Mutable placement. In retrospect, I think that Neptune really clouded my judgment here when I approached this guy (who remains one of my best friends) about a relationship. Being a Pisces Moon, an Aquarius/Pisces cusp Sun with Neptune on the IC, he was more used to Neptune’s energy than I was at the time, and he was able to see more clearly. It’s been a couple of years since I asked him out, and now I honestly can’t imagine what possessed me to do it (he’s still a total cutie, but our personalities would be an abysmal match romantically). This is definitely the anomaly out of all the examples I discuss here.
The composite Moon with my ex-boyfriend falls in my natal ninth house (and the eighth house of the composite), and is decently aspected. Those who have surfed astro.com know that they associate the composite luminaries in the eighth house with extremely significant relationships and profound transformation. That is certainly true in this case, but I think that the natal ninth house placement sheds light on the nature of that transformation. The changes in my thinking about what I want out of a relationship and how I relate to my physical body have been reflected in the way I choose to interpret certain aspects of my religion (I am, oddly enough, a Roman Catholic). Whereas I used to be attracted to a very Augustinian, neo-Platonic form of Catholicism that came very close to disparaging the body, I have recently started to investigate ways to integrate an appreciation for the physical body with the higher aspects of faith.
I held the Cancer composite Moon for last because it is the most significantly aspected. It is also the one Moon that falls in the same house in both the composite and my natal chart–the eighth house. Even without a romantic component, this has been a relationship about pure inner transformation and learning how to accept and integrate big changes on an individual scale. It is about learning accommodation about the things that truly make me uncomfortable. It is interesting to compare this Moon to the Scorpio opposed Mercury Moon. Since these two were born so close together, other than the Moon position and its aspects, the composites are almost identical. The sheer sexual attraction, sense of jealousy, concern with power and dominance, and mystery of the Scorpio relationship is replaced by a matched seriousness and desire to really understand our emotional issues and become better people. Much like the Saturn squares with the Neptune oppositions, the Moon square to this opposition gives the relationship a rooted quality (the Moon is strong in Cancer) and a sense of shared purpose.
It seems that I am starting to generate some basic guidelines for looking at composites:
1. Having an opposition squared by another planet can actually be very helpful. The T-square tends to create energy that forces both partners to deal with the potential problems of the opposition, particularly when Saturn is the planet squaring the opposition.
2. Plot the composite Moon on your natal chart and examine that house carefully when considering the effect that the relationship has on you as a person.
