The Power of Virgo

Fierce Feminine Energy

In my last post, we explored the intense and complex relationship between faith and the divine. Today, I want to switch gears and take on something a little different - challenging Virgo’s reputation for being, well, boring. I say that as someone who has my natal moon in Virgo. I am all too aware that Virgo tends to get a bad rap as the sign that’s overly practical, hyper-focused on details, and maybe a little too obsessed with routine and order. But here’s the thing: when discussing Virgo, it’s important to include its opposite, Pisces, because the full expression of any sign can only be achieved through the integration of its opposite. Together, opposing signs create an axis of energy. While this opposition can be seen as adversarial, it doesn’t have to be. It’s not an either/or dynamic. Pisces, often associated with imagination and dreaming, compliments Virgo’s practicality.

Virgo is often viewed as the energy that puts the brakes on creativity, keeping everything neat and tidy - sometimes at the expense of excitement. All of my other personal placements are in air and fire: Sun and Mercury in Aquarius, rising and Venus in Sagittarius and Mars in Gemini, I have often joked that my Virgo moon has literally kept me alive at times, because I do have a tendency to be quite reckless. But it’s not just a party pooper because without Virgo energy, we wouldn’t get anything done. Virgo is the force that takes all those grand, sweeping dreams and imaginings and turns them into reality. It’s the energy that quietly steps in, rolls up its sleeves, and says, “OK, but how do we make this happen?” where other signs would get bored and move on or decide there was nothing to see, and leave things unchanged.

Virgo energy is what grounds the vision, and it’s what turns chaos into something useful. Without it, all those big dreams, creative bursts, and passionate impulses would just float around aimlessly. Virgo’s attention to detail, its ability to refine and perfect, is what gives structure to the world.

There’s also a lot more to Virgo energy than meets the eye when it comes to female power. That’s why I used the Kuan Yin Oracle deck for this season’s readings—because Virgo carries a strong feminine energy that isn’t just about neatness and order, but about strength, compassion, and wisdom. It’s the only sign of the zodiac that has a woman, the maiden of the harvest, as its symbol.

Historically, this kind of feminine power can be seen in the Vestal Virgins of ancient Rome, who very much combined the duty of Virgo with the devotion of Pisces. I think of them, every time I look at the 9 of Pentacles in a reading. These women were entrusted with the sacred responsibility of maintaining the eternal fire of Vesta, the goddess of the hearth, which was believed to protect and sustain Rome. The fire’s eternal nature symbolised the continuity and stability of the Roman state, and it was the Vestals’ duty to ensure it never went out - a task that required immense focus, dedication, and service.

What made the Vestal Virgins truly unique was the independence they held in a deeply patriarchal society. Freed from the legal authority of their fathers and husbands, the Vestals were allowed to own property, vote, and even write a will - privileges that were otherwise unheard of for women at the time. They also held places of honour at public events, sitting in the best seats and even attending events normally reserved for men. More remarkably, the Vestals had the power to pardon prisoners and free slaves, a level of influence that was rarely granted to women.

Their virginity, often misunderstood in modern terms, was less about chastity and more about autonomy. The Vestals’ virginity symbolised their independence and their role as protectors of Rome’s sacred fire. It allowed them to exist outside the traditional roles of wife and mother, giving them a level of authority and freedom that other women didn’t have. In a world where women’s rights were severely limited, the Vestal Virgins stood apart as symbols of autonomy and power over oneself - the embodiment of Virgo’s meticulous care and devotion to duty, balanced with the Piscean capacity for spiritual service.

This brings me to Jeanne d'Arc, or Joan of Arc as she is more widely known in English-speaking countries. She most certainly embodies the fierce sense of duty and service that defines Virgo energy, balanced with the devotion and faith of Pisces. While we don’t have her exact birth date, her life and actions reflect the qualities of this sign with striking clarity.

Joan of Arc was born a peasant girl in Domrémy, France, around 1412, during the Hundred Years’ War. By all accounts, she was a deeply religious young woman, raised with strong Catholic values. At just 13 years old, she began experiencing visions and hearing voices - voices she believed came from Saint Michael, Saint Catherine, and Saint Margaret. These voices told her that she had a divine mission: to drive the English out of France and ensure that Charles VII could reclaim his throne.

At first glance, hearing voices and seeing visions might seem more Piscean than Virgoan. But what’s remarkable about Joan, and why she embodies Virgo energy, is her active engagement with her mission. Virgo is known for its sense of duty, service, practicality, and the constant refinement of one’s purpose. Joan demonstrated this by not simply accepting her divine mission passively—she actively sought to understand her role in God’s plan and took decisive action. She didn’t cloister herself with her visions or get stuck in analysis paralysis trying to find the most risk-free, perfect way to proceed. Instead, she convinced local leaders and eventually Charles VII himself to let her lead an army into battle. How would any one of us achieve this today - let alone being a young woman in a time when women had no power? In 1429, before her famous siege of Orléans, she wrote a letter to the English, demanding they flee or be forced out by her army, signing it ‘La Pucelle’ - The Maiden.

Much of what we know about Joan comes from her trial for heresy. During the trial, she was repeatedly asked how she communicated with the voices of Saint Michael, Saint Catherine, and Saint Margaret. Joan’s responses reveal a dynamic relationship with her visions. She explained that sometimes the voices were clear, while at other times, she had to wrestle with their meanings and how to act on them: "I hear the voice much better when I am alone than when I am with others." This brings to mind The Hermit, who seeks solitude and introspection to uncover deeper truths. The Hermit knows that he alone holds the power to effect change - it is his own lantern that lights the way, but he must first discern what powers that light. Simply put, The Hermit, like Joan, must discern what vision (the star in The Hermit’s lantern) he serves.

Before leading her army or taking significant action, Joan was careful to seek reassurance from her voices. Reflecting Virgo’s need for clarity and authenticity, she didn’t act impulsively or recklessly. For instance, she didn’t move forward with her mission to crown Charles VII until she had received repeated assurances from her voices. This wasn’t hesitation or doubt, but a reflection of her Virgoan approach - ensuring that the service she was providing was aligned with her higher purpose before stepping into action.

Joan’s cautious but committed approach extended to her dealings with Charles VII. Even after she gained his attention, she didn’t rush into battle. She often spoke about waiting for further guidance from her voices before proceeding, showing once again that her actions were guided by a need for alignment with her divine purpose.

Throughout her mission, Joan had to defend her divine guidance to theologians, bishops, and military leaders. These external debates must have mirrored her internal conversations about whether her actions were truly divinely inspired. Virgo energy requires accountability, and Joan embodied this by not just accepting her visions but constantly refining and defending her purpose.

Joan’s refusal to blindly follow orders - whether from military commanders or the king himself - demonstrates her ability to weigh human and divine directives carefully. If earthly advice conflicted with her divine guidance, she always prioritised her divine mission. This reflects Virgo’s tension between service and discernment, and between duty and independence. Joan’s dedication to her mission shows us how Virgo energy is both practical and principled, deeply connected to what is right rather than what is easy.

Her courage wasn’t just about wielding a sword; it was about standing firm in her belief that she was fulfilling a divine purpose, even when others doubted her. She ground her faith into practical action, strategising military campaigns and leading her soldiers with the precision and discipline that we often associate with Virgo.

Her eventual trial revealed the full extent of how society resisted her mission. Joan was tried for two crimes: the first was heresy, which in her case meant defying the established Church and claiming divine communication. This reflects the shadow of Virgo - saying there were systems and processes in place to communicate with God, and only a chosen few could do this. This goes against the Piscean personal experience of the divine. Joan’s second crime was cross-dressing, which, based on the Biblical book of Deuteronomy, forbade women from wearing men’s clothing. Joan defended her choice to wear men’s clothing as practical for her role as a military leader, but this was ultimately used as a charge to condemn her. Despite these accusations, she remained resolute in her faith.

This ties back to my last post on holding God accountable. Joan wasn’t blindly following the orders from above. She was in constant dialogue with her faith, questioning the validity of her mission and pushing back against societal limitations. Joan didn’t just serve; she refined her service, holding herself and God accountable for the results of her mission. Even when betrayed and led to her execution, Joan remained committed to her belief in the divine purpose she was fulfilling. Whether divinely gifted or tragically deluded, she was the embodiment of the union between Heaven and Earth, bringing her spiritual insights into tangible reality.

Joan of Arc’s story shows us that Virgo energy is far from boring or passive. It takes on the most challenging tasks, pushes back against injustice, and refuses to compromise on what is right. It’s the energy of someone who sees their duty clearly, even when the rest of the world is uncertain, and works tirelessly to bring divine ideals into reality.

Joan of Arc’s legacy goes far beyond what we can summarise here. She was a woman of profound faith and action, navigating the tension between divine devotion and the systems in place to control it. Her life was a testament to the strength found in service, dedication, and the courage to challenge established norms, even when it led to the ultimate sacrifice, and thus the perfect embodiment of Virgo and Pisces themes.

Joan’s ultimate legacy may be to invite us to consider how we navigate our own sense of purpose, duty, and faith. Her story is one of action grounded in conviction, where faith is not an escape but a call to engage fully with the world. Yes, she was a warrior, but I don’t think we literally have to follow her lead. She did what she did using the tools, avenues and roles available to her in her time. We have different resources available to us today and all areas of life, from home to career, from personal to interpersonal, call for our Virgoan duty and Piscean devotion.

I sometimes feel the whole of my life has been a study in Virgo, as it’s no secret that I’ve had quite the relationship with the meanings I attached to my own Virgo moon. If I had to encapsulate what I’ve learned, the biggest shift has been letting go of the need for the world to be perfect. For so long, I believed I couldn’t feel at ease or experience self-worth until I’d gotten everything exactly right. Virgo felt like a relentless stick driving me forward, often in deeply uncomfortable ways. But over the years, this has changed, and most recently working with Sophia and Shekinah has offered me a new perspective.

Sophia represents the deep, core wisdom we hold within, while Shekinah is the expression of that wisdom in the world around us. I’ve come to see that it’s not enough to know or believe - we have to live it, embodying the divine through the most mundane and ordinary actions. Now, I see every small moment, every interaction, as an opportunity to express that truth. My relationship with Virgo has changed because I’ve realised that it’s not about perfecting the external, but about showing up in alignment with that core truth, however imperfectly.