A month or two ago, I was doing a Google search on the Scorpio south node of the moon and came across a blog post by an astrologer named Ada Pembroke. I liked the post so much that I started following her on Instagram. She immediately responded with a follow back and a message thanking me. I told her how I found her and that I was born with a Taurus south node-Scorpio north node. She was born with Scorpio south node-Taurus north node (we were born 9 years apart). Both of us are Taurus suns and both have the south node in the 4th house, north node in the 10th house. She suggested we have a written conversation, which was a great idea. It was illuminating for both of us, particularly since the lunar nodes are currently transiting Taurus and Scorpio.

 

Ada: I’m so excited to have this conversation with you because I feel like you’re coming from the place I’m trying to go, in a sense, because we have the nodes in opposite signs. 

 

But I feel like I’m getting ahead of us. 

 

What do the nodes of the moon mean to you in your practice? How do you read them?

 

Carrie: I’m excited too! So glad you suggested we do this! 

 

For me, the lunar nodes reveal more about the struggles and proclivities in a person’s life than any other aspect in the birth chart. 

 

After studying them for years, I visualize them as they are described in Vedic astrology, yet describe them in evolutionary terms.

 

The tale of the dragon Rakshasha being sliced in two yet still immortal, Rahu (north node) and Ketu (south node) represent a karmic crossroads: how who we were in a past life can feel polarized by how we are meant to evolve in this life.

 

Ada: It sounds like you and I take a similar approach. My background is in evolutionary astrology, too. I trained with Paul Richard, one of Steven Forrest’s early apprenticeship graduates. But I love Rahu and Ketu. The south node can be so dark and difficult. Talking about it as Ketu, the “butt of the dragon,” breaks the spell and makes it easier to not take ourselves so seriously and let things go.

 

Carrie: As a natal Taurus Sun conjunct Jupiter and the south node in Taurus in the 4th house, I have felt both the comforting love and simultaneous restriction of my family throughout my life.

 

My north node in Scorpio is conjunct Uranus and my M.C., or midheaven, so an interest in astrology and a fascination with psychology is pretty outlined in my chart. When transiting Uranus first hit my 4th house in 2020, a major shift happened for me. 

 

With a Taurus south node in the 4th house, I easily felt all the Taurean tactile aspects of family: physical affection, financial support, hard work, sensual simplicity. My parents (now divorced) are both earth sign Suns with Scorpio moons. 

 

As a child, I felt that deep emotional engagement with my family was simmering below the surface pretty much all the time. Our interactions were mostly superficial (at least to me). 

 

Even though I had physical comforts and physically demonstrative love, I felt emotionally bankrupt. I wasn’t very happy. I would spend endless hours alone in my room, drawing or fantasizing about something. I had a hard time engaging with others because deep intimacy only existed in my inner world. 

 

Ada: That is so interesting to me. I have the sun in Taurus and the 10th conjunct the north node, and family is a big theme in my nodal story, too. There was all of this tension between the reality of my family, which was very scorpionic, and the taurean image that we needed to project out to the world because my dad was a preacher. 

 

The tension between Taurus and Scorpio has been hard for me. What you said about having trouble with the superficial in your family really resonates for me. When I was a kid, Taurus was just the language of advertising. My default attitude was “only the dark is real.” 

 

My biggest growing edge lately has been realizing that my 10th house Taurus sun can help me create a safe container to descend into the underworld. I feel like a tour guide in my astrology practice sometimes, pointing out landmarks to my clients as we sail by eating dates on Charon’s boat. 

 

Carrie: Taurus & Scorpio, sharing the generative axis, experience the most terrestrial forms of life and death. Visiting India years ago really illuminated their interconnectedness for me. 

 

A sensual celebration of both life and death (and, of course, reverence for the cow, our Taurean kin) helped me embrace Rahu and Ketu as having equal importance. Prior to this, I felt that my south node in Taurus was holding me back. 

 

When I turned 28, I decided to start a career as a chef – not at all something I imagined myself ever doing in my younger years. A classically moon-ruled south node in Taurus career. Nurturing with food.

 

It took me many years to let my inner Scorpion out of the closet. The pragmatism of Taurus demanded the secrecy of Scorpio. I finally put an astrology website & blog together just as Uranus moved into my 4th house. It was textbook transit-wise. 

 

In 2020, I got in my car and started driving, leaving California, the land of my origin, behind. I ended up in New Orleans, which is a very Scorpio city. I immediately felt I needed to live here. 

 

On its own, Taurus can seem pedestrian, but when combined with Scorpio, it’s as if Earthly existence has a profound story to tell. A unique story. I understand the tension all too well. I love your tour guide image – that really resonates with me. 

 

I’m really curious how Uranus transiting your North Node in the 10th has affected you. Since I have that conjunction natally, I have always felt that my career was meant to be unusual in some way – I just couldn’t figure out how to finance it. When transiting Uranus hit my sun and my 4th house, I felt like my identity was given a wonderful jolt of electricity. Really pushed me out of my Taurean comfort zone.

 

Ada: That Uranus transit sounds delightful. Though, I’m sure it wasn’t easy. 

 

Uranus is still passing over my sun and north node, so I’m sure I don’t have the final story yet, but the transit has been remarkably literal. I have Uranus in 5th house Sagittarius closely quincunx my sun and sextile my Jupiter. I’ve always felt a lot of tension between the need for playful wandering in my work with the need to feel consistent and secure. 

 

During this Uranus transit, I’ve been realizing that it’s possible to have both at the same time by using my Taurus drives to create a container for my Uranus in Sagittarius. I founded the Narrative Astrology Lab, giving my practice a mad scientist flair. My students study astrology by coming with me on experimental adventures and getting support for experiments of their own. It’s a predictable unpredictability that keeps me interested.

 

At the same time, I’m experiencing the 5th house connection with children. Just as Uranus was hitting my sun for the first time, I got pregnant after being told that I couldn’t have children for over twenty years. I am delighted and feel so blessed, but I can definitely see there being some friction between being a mom and having a full-time astrology practice.

 

Carrie: I saw your Narrative Astrology Lab on your site! So brilliantly tailored to your expertise! I love that.

 

Ada: Thank you so much! 

 

Carrie: So your natal Uranus is in the 5th house, Sun is in the 10th -so you have a Cancer or Leo ascendant? That’s incredible about the pregnancy- what a gift!

 

Ada: Leo ascendant. Rawr.

 

Carrie: With Uranus transiting my 4th, I am thinking constantly about pregnancy. Mars is moving back and forth between my 5th and 6th houses, which could also be part of it. I’m also experiencing the last pass of Pluto squaring my Moon/Venus and opposing my Saturn in the 7th (Capricorn rising). Uranus is definitely shaking up my conception of home and family. 

 

Ada: I can imagine! What has that looked like for you?

 

Carrie: Because of my Sun and south node in the 4th, I struggled for years to let go of what was familiar. I went away to Maine and New York for college (as well as studying abroad), but after 4 years, I came back home to California. I didn’t have a strong urge to live anywhere else. It wasn’t conscious codependency, but it certainly was. My identity was so wrapped up in living in California. Now that seems absurd, but it was true for a good portion of my life. So naturally, re-creating a 4th house family bond now that I’ve left that world behind would involve a desire to bring a child into my life, as well as a solid partner. 

 

Carrie: Uranus activating your north node in Taurus is helping you access the physical realm in regards to your pregnancy. Focusing on the generative need to feed new life within the body is a beautiful manifestation of Taurus energy. Somehow, it is going to enhance your 10th house practice, not detract from it. Wonderful!!

 

Ada: You’re so right! Even though I have a Taurus sun, I have found Taurus really challenging, but the pregnancy has forced me to listen to my body in a way that I haven’t before. I have Saturn opposite the sun, and my default has always been to push through hunger and tiredness. It’s easier to listen now that I have a belly and a kicky little body reminding me and everyone else that it isn’t just about me. Before that, it felt profoundly selfish. I’m amazed how much I’m already learning from my daughter.

 

Carrie: We should have another back and forth regarding quincunxes. I listened to a great lecture by Lynn Bell on quincunxes earlier this year. My Sun & Jupiter in Taurus are quincunx my Pluto in Libra. 

 

Ada: Absolutely! Quincunxes might be my favorite aspect.

 

Carrie: What I can learn from you is the Scorpionic ability to merge with others and create community. That has always been a struggle for me. What you can learn from me is the ability to appreciate simplicity. A Taurus south node is good at taking care of basic needs. Too good, frankly. 

 

Ada: Learning the ability to appreciate simplicity? Absolutely! Most of the time that feels like the pole star to me, a distant place it would be lovely to visit someday, but I have moments when I’m able to cut through complexity and be like, “No, this is really simple.” And it feels like a big yes. 

 

I paused for a second when you mentioned the ability to merge with others. I have Mars in the 11th, and being separate from the crowd has always been important to me. What you said reminded me that dissolving boundaries is one of the properties of water. That’s not something we talk about very much when we talk about Scorpio. It’s more likely to come up in conversations about Pisces. 

 

But there is a bonding quality to Scorpio, isn’t there? The bonding of people who have been through hell together and lean on each other as they limp back to the land of the living. Trauma bonding, too, but that’s more the dysfunctional side of Scorpio.

 

Creating community where people feel safe enough to keep their stingers peace-tied and be deeply honest with each other is important to me. 

 

Carrie: You phrased that beautifully. I think too with you being in the Pluto in Scorpio generation that your ability to bond is also enhanced. We Pluto in Libras are certainly capable of bonding, but more so in an effort to be accommodating. It’s much less intimate than Scorpio.

 

Scorpio will also leap to protect those who are vulnerable. Cancer and Pisces often get more credit for this trait as water signs, but the fixed energy of Scorpio is more formidable in its efforts to protect. It’s an often misjudged Scorpio ability. 

 

Ada: I absolutely agree. When we talk about Scorpio’s stinger, the astrology community is way too fast to focus on self-defense. My partner is a Scorpio, and he’s much faster to protect others than himself.

 

Carrie: Is there anything else you want to touch on? I think we each had pretty thorough shares. 

 

One thing I want to add about Scorpio having co-rulership with Mars and Pluto: I don’t see Scorpio as being at all martial unless it is motivated by protecting others. There is a need to be seen and validated by the group that differs from the Mars-ruled sign Aries.

 

Aries wants to be seen as an individual; a trail blazer. Whereas Scorpio wants to be seen as a crucial member of the group. With Pluto’s influence, feeling left out or dismissed is Scorpio’s greatest fear. When provoked, its attacks are subtle and subterranean- like Pluto more so than Mars. 

 

Scorpio is deeply maternal to me, which does really resonate with who I am. What are your thoughts? I’m writing this right as the moon moves into Scorpio.

 

Ada: When I look at traditional rulerships, I focus on the metaphor of the sign being the home of the traditional planet and the modern ruler having more of an affinity. So, Pluto is more like Scorpio, and Mars makes a home in Scorpio because it’s a house that has things Mars needs. 

 

In order to be itself, Mars needs to be courageous. As an extroverted sign, Aries provides obvious, outerworld opportunities for Mars to express its courage, but Scorpio is the sign of inner world courage. In Scorpio, Mars descends into the underworld of dark emotions. Mars’ association with surgeons expresses itself through the healing of trauma. 

 

Healing is generally seen as a Pluto thing, but I think Pluto and Mars are different kinds of healers. Mars is the fast, inner planet and performs battlefield medicine. Patching you up enough that you can live to fight another day. 

 

Pluto is more of an oncologist. I don’t think it’s an accident that Pluto has radioactive associations. Pluto cures are like cancer cures, cures that kill the disease just a little bit faster than they kill you because the disease has convinced your body (metaphorically or literally) that it is you. 

 

Carrie: I love your analysis. I have never thought of Mars as a healer, but there is an immediacy to Mars we link with courage- a potent kind of balm.

 

Ada: Before we wrap things up, I’m curious about your experience with previous nodal oppositions. Do you notice recurring themes?

 

Carrie: Absolutely. The last nodal opposition for me, 2004, was when I decided to become a chef and attend cooking school. This time around, I am ready to end my career as a chef and focus completely on my astrology career. 2004 was also when the band I was in for years toured the UK. That was easily the peak of my performance career. This past summer, I spent a month in Europe visiting old friends, both professional musicians. 

 

Career is a recurring theme- naturally with my 10th house getting activated- but 4th house themes are also strong. In 2003-04, I was living with my first longterm boyfriend and it wasn’t working. 4th house instability. Even though I’m single now, the instability theme is prominent again. 

 

I can’t remember what happened in 1985-86 – oh wait, maybe I can. I was in 5th grade. My mother and teacher expressed disappointment that I couldn’t finish writing a short story. I got discouraged, as I recall.

 

If I could distill the nodal opposition for me in one word, it would be discipline. 

 

Ada: That is so interesting. Of course, home and career makes sense with those houses involved. Where does the discipline come from? Is there a Saturn connection?

 

Carrie: Transiting Pluto is opposing my natal Saturn right now for its final pass, but I also associate discipline with Scorpio. It’s a struggle for my south node in Taurus, which is too focused on comfort and being stuck in ruts.

 

Ada: I wonder if that is a difference between the north and south nodes. Or, maybe, I’m learning to work better with my Saturn-sun opposition. Over the last few years, I’ve been finding more patience for slow, steady, methodical work over a long period of time. 

 

Carrie: Another nodal opposition theme for me worth mentioning is elimination. I purged 20 years of stuff from my storage unit in California this summer. I remember this being a theme for me during the last n.o. The austerity angle I’ve always felt was very Capricorn (why Marie Kondo was so popular in the Pluto in Capricorn era) but the art of elimination is very Scorpio. It is the act of releasing non-useful possessions rather than a state of austerity. Very liberating!

 

Ada: On the flip side, being too quick to eliminate things has definitely been one of my vices with a south node in Scorpio. I’ve been known to throw out drafts of novels, old toys that meant enough to me to stuff them in a tiny UHAUL when I moved across the country, my entire CD collection (including dozens of irreplaceable EPs from early-00s indie bands) just because I’m “not feeling it at the moment.” 

 

But more positively, what are you feeling these days? If people want to connect with you and your work, how can they go about it?

 

Carrie: My website is www.mercurialdream.com. I blog about various astrological topics and ideas  – a lot of mundane astrology re: politics in recent months. 

 

I’ve been thinking lately about when transiting Pluto was conjunct my north node in Scorpio in 1987-88. This was right after my first nodal opposition. It was a courageous time for me at the age of 11-12. I gained the ability to stand up for myself and others. I’m remembering that the Scorpio soldier within me emerged a long time ago. 

 

Ada: And it’ll always be with you when you need it most. 

 

Thank you so much for having this conversation with me, Carrie. It’s been so enlightening for me, and I hope that everyone who reads it gets as much out of it as I did. 

 

Carrie: Likewise! Thank you for suggesting it! ! It was very enlightening for me as well. So serendipitous to have found you on a south node in Scorpio google search! 🙂 

 

Ada’s website is www.adapembroke.com