Pip: Auntie Moon — where the lunar cycle doubles as a very gentle intervention about that grandmother’s chipped cup you’ve been holding onto for thirty years.

Mara: CJ Wright has been running a day-by-day countdown to the New Moon in Scorpio, and the territory is rich: releasing what we love, the weight of objects, and what happens when Scorpio asks us to transform rather than just tidy up.

Pip: Let’s start with the Balsamic Moon and what it actually asks of us.

Balsamic Moon In Libra: Letting Go and What We Keep

Mara: The Balsamic Moon phase opens this countdown series with a specific question — not about clutter, but about obligation. What are we holding onto because we feel we owe it our continued care?

Pip: The four-days-out post puts it plainly. After asking readers to think of something they’ve loved, it says: “The only thing that matters is that you have loved it. And you may feel that you have an obligation to hold on to it.”

Mara: That reframe is the whole move. The object doesn’t have to be rare or irreplaceable. It just has to be loved. The exercise isn’t about deciding anything yet — the instruction for day four is simply to remember the object and love it.

Pip: Which is a surprisingly patient ask from a countdown clock.

Mara: The three-days-out post picks up exactly there. The moon is still in Libra, and the prompt deepens: look at the wear and tear. The post asks whether damage made something more valuable, not less — “Even broken or ruined items can hold a tender place in our hearts. So tender that we might find it impossible to let the item go.”

Pip: So we’ve moved from remembering the object to actually examining its history with us. That’s a meaningful escalation — from fond memory to honest reckoning.

Mara: And then the two-days-out post shifts the ground entirely. The moon moves from Libra into Scorpio at 5:40 pm, and the themes shift with it — from beauty and balance into transformation and resurrection. The post lands on astrological Samhain, when the Sun reaches 15 degrees of Scorpio, and asks: when we try to repair a broken beloved thing, are we hoping to resurrect what it once represented?

Pip: The veil grows thin, and apparently so does our ability to pretend the broken cup is just a cup.

Mara: The post frames it directly: “we find ourselves confronting what has been lost, what remains, and what we cannot bear to release.” Three days of quiet preparation, and Scorpio shows up to make it serious.

Pip: The New Moon is two days out — and the question of what we’re actually willing to transform is just getting started.


Mara: Three days, one object, and a question that keeps getting harder to answer.

Pip: That’s the Balsamic Moon for you — rest and release, until Scorpio decides rest isn’t quite enough.