Primal Wailing & Protected Boundaries: Shifting Our Scales with Venus in Scorpio

The card I pulled while attending a Breathwork Class — Sacred Symbols Oracle Deck: For Divination and Meditation By: Kroll, Marcella

The card I pulled while attending a Breathwork Class — Sacred Symbols Oracle Deck: For Divination and Meditation By: Kroll, Marcella

I’ve been doing some deep reading and research lately, letting my mind drift into deep contemplations as we move through the pre-shadow period of the upcoming Venus retrograde.

We are approaching a significant energetic shift—Venus will begin its retrograde journey in Scorpio on October 3rd, lasting through November 13th. Even outside of my theoretical research, I have felt a theme rising up to meet me repeatedly in my own life and in my somatic practices.

That theme is boundaries.

Anytime boundaries start knocking at the door, I nervous laugh and think, “Ooh, all right. Here we go.”

Boundaries are not static walls. They are dynamic systems that must be adjusted with each turning of the season. As the wheel turns toward autumn in the Northern Hemisphere, the external heat of summer cools down. The daylight wanes. We stay indoors more. Naturally, our energy pools shift, our priorities alter, and our protective boundaries require a recalibration.

But this week, my focus on boundaries took a deep, unexpected detour into the sky—and straight into the myth of Medusa.

The Primal Face of the Sky: Taurus Decan 3 and Algol

Lately, I’ve been conducting personal deep-dives into the astrological decans—the 36 "faces" of the zodiac where each sign is split into three ten-degree parts, each holding its own specific attribute.

As a late-season Taurus Sun myself, I was looking into the third decan of Taurus (spanning from 20 to 30 degrees) to cultivate a more somatic, embodied relationship with my own chart. Resting right in this specific pocket of the sky is the fixed star Algol, historically and mythologically linked directly to the archetype of Medusa. Nearby sit the Pleiades, the Seven Sisters.

Greek mythology can be incredibly gnarly. When you read the source material, you often find yourself pausing and asking, “Why? Why was this the story that was told?”

The version of Medusa most of us carry is a tragedy. She was a beautiful priestess in Athena’s sacred temple. Poseidon, driven by lust, assaulted her within those holy walls. Enraged that her sacred space had been desecrated, Athena turned her anger not on the god Poseidon, but on Medusa—transforming her into a snake-haired creature whose gaze turned men to stone.

Society has historically labeled Medusa a monster. But as I sat with her story, I found myself rejecting that word entirely.

The Wailing of the Sisters: Mourning What We Used to Value

In my research, I uncovered a layer of the myth outside of standard Roman interpretations that deeply struck something inside me. When Medusa was slain, her sister cried out. She wailed in raw, unadulterated grief.

This primal crying out instantly mirrored the Egyptian myth of Isis and her sister Nephthys, who transformed themselves into birds of prey—kites—screaming and wailing to retrieve and protect the pieces of Osiris’s soul.

There is an incredible, raw essence in Medusa and her sisters. They represent primal, ancient sea-creatures—the deep forces within us that we are taught to fear, neglect, or profoundly misinterpret.

When our boundaries are shifting, we are often forced to look at the beliefs, structures, and values we have inherited from others that aren't actually ours to carry. Stripping those away requires a mourning period. It requires a wailing, a releasing, and sometimes—metaphorically or literally—a scream.

We scream to retrieve the conscious awareness of what we actually value, independently. We cry out to honor the reality that the things we once cared about simply don’t hold the same weight for us anymore.

Modern, empowering interpretations of the myth suggest that Athena’s transformation of Medusa wasn’t a curse at all, but a fierce, radical gift of absolute protection. She ensured that no one could ever violate or breach Medusa’s sacred space ever again.

Reclaiming Power: Setting Boundaries Without Permission

This brings us right back to the cosmic weather. Venus is moving through Scorpio, and it will station retrograde there. Scorpio rules the underworld, the hidden depths, and the profound capacity to hold intense, complex emotional truths.

Adjusting our boundaries is, at its core, giving ourselves absolute permission to let something go.

This morning, a book popped into my mind called Living with Joy: Keys to Personal Power and Spiritual Transformation by Sanaya Roman. I intuitively flipped it open, and my eyes landed directly on a chapter addressing self-respect, self-worth, and validation.

I know from my own lived experience that when our boundaries begin to shift, a shadow part of us often scrambles for external validation. We want someone else to look at us and say, “Yes, you are completely justified in changing that boundary. You have the right to walk away.”

But when we require external validation to anchor our personal boundaries, we are actively giving away our personal power.

The planets are spinning to tell us a massive story about autonomy. Your body knows when the season has changed. Your nervous system knows when a boundary needs to adjust. You do not need an outside jury to approve the lines you draw around your sacred space.

🜄 Let's Weave Together in the Comments

When is the last time you checked in with your boundaries and honored if they need shifting?

If you find yourself holding onto values that aren't yours, how might you reclaim your personal power this season?

Let’s share a reflective dialogue below.

🜃 Enjoy this meditation to support with re-establishing your boundaries each day.

An ~11-minute guided meditation to help you become consciously aware of your energetic boundaries and call your essence home. You'll be guided through grounding breaths and rooting into the earth, then invited to discover a color of light to form a protective shield around your auric field — holding your energy within its threshold so nothing crosses without your permission. From there, you'll place roses in all directions just outside your energetic boundary as a living awareness practice — noticing where your energy may be leaking and where more intention can be offered. When complete, a violet flame clears each rose, returning their energy to the earth or the central sun. A practice you can return to anytime you feel depleted or in need of energetic reset.

🜁 Deepen Your Journey: The Astrology Snail Mail Club

If you want to step away from digital screens and process these cosmic movements with tactile medicine, join the Astrology Snail Mail Club. Each month, I mail printed cosmic reflections, original watercolor art, and seasonal journal prompts directly to your physical mailbox.

You can also join the community newsletter here for updates on upcoming gatherings, workshops, and offers to support you along your seasonal journey.

With Love,

Lisette

♡

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Unveiling Comparison as the Thief of Joy: Healing Relationship Codependency

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The Color Palette of Transition: Holding Duality at the Autumn Equinox