In the face of lifequaking transformation and the quite frankly unholy methods the multiverse has been reefing out of its bag o' tricks to shake rattle and roll us, it has been all too easy to overlook the balm of Taurus season.

By way of antidote to the incendiary quake zone that was Aries season, now may we rest in the realm of the little bull. Ordinarily a luxe zone of sensual delights, we bypass pleasure for treasure with so much at stake as the sun stamps his entry into Taurus.

Achtung darklings as our season of dramatic change rolls on. Very soon now Urania makes his epic move from Mars ruled Aries into Venus ruled Taurus, as lady love nods her approval from Aquaria. Our world rebalancing over the next seven years from a skewed masculine dominance to the equally powerful balm of the feminine. We will learn how to care for, protect and preserve all that we love.

It is accepted lore that whatever you focus on expands, in an effort to reward your vision and meet the direction of your attention. At the new moon we traditionally cast in the direction of our dearest dreams, taking care to be mindful of what we wish for.

The key to it all is our unwavering attention.

We make way for the beauty of the moon new in Taurus, as we steady beneath her gaze. With four of our galaxy still covering old ground and retrograde magic thus afoot, now is not the perfect hour to call in our audacious new beginning. Rather this is the time to embody the gracious patience and endurance that is a Taurean hallmark.

It is time to make your welcome return to verdant Taurean meadows and the hallowed realm of the sensualist; to eat, drink and make merry, to have and to hold, to dance and to swoon as the band strikes up once more, to sprawl in the everlovin' arms of Mama Nature and drink in everything your felt senses have to offer. The light changes and the birdsong too when we hear the thunder of bullish hooves as the stars remind us once more of all we have been given here on earth.

The sun sweeping into Taurus is ever the grounding antidote to the Aries firestorm. We need the Ram's chutzpah and vim to put a rocket beneath us, drying our tears and heating us back up after nearly drowning in Pisces eclipse season. And then as the weeks roll by in a blur of imperatives and explosive breakthroughs, I crave the Venusian vibes that our little bull brings.

Eclipses are not just singular, they are a season of change with a distinct beginning and an often all too clear end point that resonates, sometimes for months to come. Our lunar eclipse only two weeks ago was the fabled blood moon. This was an appropriately storm swept kick-off in my part of the world and heralded the start of a period of immense shifts.