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Ah, summer in Lake Country. There's no humidity like Midwestern humidity.

One steamy New Moon night in July 1984, we gather in Loring Park to greet the First Crescent, hoping for even a breath of air movement.

Alas, there is none.

We retire to my nearby deficiency compartment to continue. In the thick, airless humidity, we strip off and sit on the bare floorboards.

In the center of our circle stands the coven goddess: earthen, tall as a child of two years. There she rises: dancing, naked, smiling her mysterious smile. Of us all, only she looks cool.

We chant, savoring.

new is moon

moon are we

we are new

blessed be

The sweating jar passes from lap to lap, a lunar coolness. With sea-sponges, we wipe each other down with the cold water.

As the jar circles, we begin riffing off of our chant.

We are nude, I deadpan. There is no witchcraft without self-satire.

Laughing, Magenta points to the Goddess.

Do you go out every month, just after sunset, to greet the New Moon in the West?

(They say that it's bad luck to see her through glass, but this means through a window; wearing glasses doesn't count.)

Do you greet her with the sound of horns?

Do you blow her a kiss when you see her?

Do you raise to her your hand?

Do you bend to her your knee?

Do you give her a word of greeting, like Love to you, my Light?

Do you carry in your pocket money, for her blessing?

(For long and long, the silver penny was our major money, and so it was reckoned that money was the Moon's, always waning, like her, and—hopefully—waxing again.)

Do you sing to her a song, like Hail to Thee, Thou New Moon?

In the year 691 the emperor Justinian II convoked what has come to be known as the Quinsext Council.

Bishops from all over the Christian world gathered near Constantinople to pass 85 different canons, mostly of a disciplinary nature.

A clergyman may not own a tavern. No one may have a Jewish doctor or “consort with Jews in the baths.” It is forbidden to give communion to the dead.

Of special interest to pagans is Canon 65: It is prohibited to build New Moon bonfires.

New Moon bonfires.

In “a world lit only by fire,” the Moon is important. Nights are dark without the Moon. So when she comes back from her three-nights' sojourn in the Underworld, what you do?

Dance in a circle of moonlight
Make a web of life
Hold me as I spiral and spin
Make a web of my life…

Tonight's New Moon is in Sagittarius. Archer energy is always fun -- Sagittarius, while the philosopher's sign, is also always up for anything. As a Sag myself, I often say my philosophy of life is, "What? I'm too busy dancing!" When the New Moon is in Sagittarius, we're invited to look at our Shadow side and discover what spark of light we can generate or find to illuminate the darkness. Coming as it does in the darkening days before Winter Solstice, the Sagittarius New Moon also reminds us that there is always dawning after the night, and also that night will inevitably follow day. We need to ride the tides of this cycle, trusting that all darkness will eventually be dispelled by light -- even if it means that darkness must come again eventually.

The focus this new moon is on relationships -- with each other, with the world, with our communities, and with ourselves. Awakenings happening to us and around us as well -- some of these are painful, some are jarring, but all are necessary. There is a sense that the world is waking up from a long sleep, or shaking itself out of complacency. 

This article originally appeared at www.tarotbyhilary.com.

"A New Moon teaches gradualness and deliberation and how one gives birth to oneself slowly. Patience with small details makes perfect a large work, like the universe."—Rumi

Habits. We all want them, need them, especially good habits. Some people just seem to wake up and say, "I'm going to completely change my life today and turn it all around." I don't know any such people, but I have faith they are out there, somewhere. Like leprechauns or the Easter Bunny. They're real because I believe them to be real.

There's a few habits I was trying to correct all at once:

☛ punctuality

☛ poor sleep

☛ consistency in writing

☛ physical activity

☛ procrastination

I saved the best (or shall I say the worst?) for last on the list, because it's a biggie. The Goliath to my David. And I realized it's a biggie because it is a "pivot point" habit: reframe this one, and all the other bad habit dominoes such as tardiness or inconsistency get knocked down.

No matter how much I would like to be one of those mythical people I spoke of above, I need to reformulate my habits one habit at a time. Multitasking is a myth... so too have I found this to be the case when reframing multiple bad habits into good ones. No seriously, one thing at a time. I need to be reminded of this… a lot.

If you are looking to knock a habit and need an astrological boost to help you along, the New Moon is one of the best times to set the intention to begin again. Even better is if you sync up which sign the New Moon is in to further help your intentions along.

The New Moon this month occurs in the sign of Virgo (2'19) on Monday, August 25th, at 7:13 am (PDT). Virgo is the archetype of the Virgin goddess, originally meaning, “whole unto herself”.  And, no matter how devoted Virgo is to the people in his or her life, a certain part of Virgo’s psyche always remains “untouched” by the opinions or influence of anyone else. Virgo is a Mutable Earth sign, meaning it is a threshold sign, bridging one season into the next, and it resonates with the grounding and stable element of Earth. Virgo season is summer transitioning into autumn, and this energy is indelibly imprinted into the archetype, giving way to a Mercurial nature in the Virgo personality. The Virgo archetype echoes with the preparation for harvest: we begin the task of separating the grain from the chaff in our lives.  This requires clear-headed logic, as well as attention to our deep intuition about what crops we will harvest, and what needs to be turned back into the soil, or allowed to die on the vine.  The Virgo personality is often lauded as analytical, discerning, and as having a superior flair for organizational activities. When you think of the qualities of the season, this makes sense.  And, although this time of year is fast paced and busy as we get ready to go back to school or work, there is also a quiet turning within now.

Virgo embodies the aspect of the Priestess that is self-purified and dedicated to the practical expressions of serving the divine.  The archetype is associated with all types of ritual, and integrated daily spiritual practice. There is a visceral body/mind connection with Virgo, and you can find many with Virgo strong in their charts working as nutritionists, yoga teachers, herbalists and holistic practitioners.  Health, healing and daily care of the body are all Virgo preoccupations. Virgo is also the inspired craftsperson, using their attention to detail to produce beautiful works in a variety of mediums.  Additionally, they have an innate talent to elevate what others might term “puttering”- beekeeping, gardening, flower arranging and so forth - into an everyday art form.