Crusing the Cosmic Strip in a Pink Cadillac

Full Moon in Aquarius Might be Hilarious

Under today’s Full Moon in Aquarius, the Cosmos puts the keys to an audacious pink Caddy in your hands and says drive like Springsteen, cuz “baby, you were born to run.” By the way, Bruce Springsteen’s Moon forms a Grand Trine in Air in his natal chart. And with his Ascendant (rising sign) in Gemini (mutable air element), the mode of transportation, whether motorcycle, Caddy, or skateboard, is irrelevant. It’s the call to freedom that matters.

And speaking of freedom, guess what I’m doing next week?

I’m trading in my New York driver’s license for a Georgia one and signing up for driving lessons.

Why?

Because I’ve been living in New York for over 25 years, where we walk everywhere and learn to say things to drivers like, “Go back to Jersey, you moron.” And then there’s what my husband refers to as his near-death experience, but it was many years ago. While coming to the yellowish stoplight, I made the strategic decision to turn left, accelerating across three lanes of oncoming traffic to get him to a doctor’s appointment on time. He was on time. So, mission accomplished, the way I see it. Sometimes, men can be such hot-house flowers.

And yes, in full disclosure, when I lived in London, I warned my boss, “Don’t give me a big car because I’m not used to driving” (much less on the opposite side of the road). Naturally, he requisitioned a car the size of a small spaceship because my corporate position demanded I keep up with appearances. I was also assigned a Mr. Bumble look-alike, right of Oliver Twist, as my driving instructor. He kept shouting at me, “Those mirrors aren’t for your lipstick, Missus.”

But in that moment of his grousing at me, I had a close encounter with a semi-trailer (also known in Brit-speak as a lorry). My instincts hit the gas and sent us swerving to the hard shoulder. Just so you know, overcompensating to the right is something all American drivers tend to do at first. There was no actual contact with the lorry. Barely, a swish of death.

However, when I called to schedule my second lesson, he ghosted me.

Months later, after a cursory amount of study, I sat for the U.K.’s written driver’s test. Why did I fail? According to the computerized scoring program, my test answers indicated a poor attitude toward other drivers.

Their point being: I’m from New York.

This brings us back to the Full Moon in Aquarius, which triggers our need for freedom, playful irreverence, flashes of insight, and bursts of rebellion against limiting beliefs and societal pressures to conform to the status quo.

Oh, no, you don’t! No status quo rubbernecking today.

Three Flashes to Catch Under the Light of the Aquarian Moon

Rebel with a Cause: Maybe you’ve outgrown playing small. Maybe you’re tired of performing someone else’s idea of your creative life? What if you intentionally failed someone else’s test because it didn’t measure your magic?

The Joy-Ride Carpool: Aquarius is the sign of communities, bizarre visionary ones. This Moon says, gather your fellow travelers. Who are the creative allies and idea catalysts that you want in your metaphorical Pink Cadillac?

Time to Release the Old Driving Record: Old insecurities, ancient wounds, crusty, musty old driving instructors who don’t call you back. It’s time to let it all go. Full moons are culminations and releases. Aquarius is helpful to us to detach without bitterness. It hits like a lightning bolt flashing a neon sign with “This was the lesson. You are free now!”

The Pink Cadilliac is real if you believe in the symbolic steering wheel.

So the question is: where is freedom calling you to be audaciously creative while driving with your top down and rebel heart at the wheel?

Oh, and please don’t worry about me driving in Atlanta. Almost 200 streets contain the name “Peachtree” in some weird variation, meaning Georgians drive in metaphors.

And I feel right at home.