*Archetypal Magic*: Virgo as The Huntsperson

I’m writing this on the first cool morning after a stretch of record breaking heat here in California. Fires are still burning in the forest closest to me. The one I’m most familiar with and the one where I first kissed my now partner. The one where I bury my hair and a love letter to myself each birthday. The one that contains local wildlife and ecosystems we desperately need to keep intact. 

When I’m outside I find myself putting my palms on the pine trees in the backyard asking their roots to send moisture and healing to our neighboring forest. They are over a century old and understand this request more deeply than I will be able to in this lifetime. We are all seeing more destruction than we’re used to. But the trees remain stable and solid and wise. 

I’m reminded of the words of a teacher, Sister Morningstar, who said to me, “When things are chaotic, I get very still”. She drew her energy into herself and her eyes got very sharp and I saw the intense animal wisdom of stillness. My relationship to chaos has generally been very reactive; the seeds of a big lesson were planted that day. The trees have a different kind of stillness, less watchful intensity I suppose but still nonetheless. 

In the height of the heat I was restless and felt cagey. Like I’m not doing enough. Like I’m not staying on top of all of these changes. I felt simultaneously charged and sludgy. 

I caught up with a friend during those days who said “Oh wow, you’re doing a lot”. I cocked my head in curiosity and not understanding and she reflected that I’ve been rooting in and foundation setting. And she’s right. This is slow work. It isn’t glamorous or exciting. Getting very still in chaos or still like the trees doesn’t look or feel like much but this slow, deep, subterranean shifting is what allows for sustainable growth. 

In this season, I’m thinking a lot about the Virgo archetype. My Venus is 0 degrees Virgo and it’s a placement I’ve struggled to understand. But this year I see the benefits in a way I haven’t been able to before. That archetype has shown up as a martyr or as a savior complex many times in my past so I’ve spent a lot of time rejecting it. Part of this was also internalized misogyny, in that we’re taught a woman or femme who knows themself is dangerous so we disparage them by using words like nag, harpy, controlling or uptight to describe them.

But now that energy is being channeled into fully embodying myself without pomp and circumstance. There is a strength and simplicity in my devotion to myself, my callings, my home, and my loved ones that I no longer wrestle with like I used to. A stalwart but nimble-minded approach is accessed through this archetype. It’s not reactive, but steady and ready to act if needed. It’s nourishing and thorough because it knows things can shift in an instant and it wants to be prepared for that possibility. 

There is a link between the sharp stillness illustrated by Sister MorningStar and the Virgo as a huntsperson, and the stillness of the trees. I find myself sitting at the intersection of these energies. 

The long stretch of the end of summer is almost over and the season will soon turn. With that end, I imagine many shifts will take place. So I’m thinking about what I want to bring into that season of change, especially today while observing the Virgo New Moon. 

Some questions I’m sitting with are:

What is my relationship to rest? Past and present. Learned and unlearned.

What practices help me come back to stillness when I start to spin out?

How will I bring community care into my work and stay in my integrity when finances or energy or ability feels scarce? 

How can I honor the people of the land I’m on as I steward it into this new season?

Stevie Joy Leigh Guiol