Courage Under Fire: The Aries Moon and the Girl Who Wouldn’t Bow
When the world catches fire, courage becomes the only prayer worth speaking. This is a tale for the Aries Full Moon; a story of love louder than fear, and the fire that still burns in us all.
Under the light of this week’s Aries Full Moon, it feels like the world is burning.
Governments are collapsing into scandal, strongmen are waging war on their own people, and truth itself is standing trial in the public square again. From Washington to Gaza, from pulpits to parliaments, the air is thick with smoke - literal and spiritual - as old systems crumble beneath the weight of their own deceit.
There’s a rising hum of something ancient and unstoppable - the sense that history itself is catching fire. This is not just another week of headlines; this is a threshold. An Aries Full Moon threshold - where the cosmos holds the torch to humanity’s face and asks: What will you do with the fire?
Aries is the sign of ignition, of raw beginnings, of souls who move because they must, and right now, as nations teeter and leaders unravel, that energy is roaring through the collective field. The world is being tested for courage, not comfort.
This is a moment for courage under fire. For remembering that the brightest flames in history were lit not by kings or institutions, but by ordinary souls who chose to listen to the truth within when the world demanded silence.
So this week, as the Full Moon rises in Aries on October 7, we call on the ancestors who walked through flames before us, on those who faced unimaginable cruelty and still stood tall, and we look to one in particular - a young woman who lived in a time when to follow one’s own inner knowing was an act of treason, and who did it anyway.
Her name was Jeanne, but you might know her by another. She faced the Aries-like flame with unwavering courage, and this week, we don’t just remember her - we invoke her spirit and let her fire become ours.
The Girl Who Wouldn’t Bow
In France in the 1400s, the air itself felt heavy with defeat. The Hundred Years’ War had dragged on for decades, leaving villages burned, fields barren, and families starving. England occupied much of the north; France was fractured, leaderless, its people exhausted and faith-worn. The Church ruled like a second monarchy, and anyone who dared speak of hearing the voice of God outside its walls risked being branded a heretic.
It was a world of fear - fear of kings, and of sin, and of stepping out of line. Women were property, peasants were expendable, and truth belonged to those in power.
And yet, from a small village in Lorraine, a teenage girl began to hear a voice. Not the voice of the Church, not the shouts of men in command, but a quiet certainty rising from within. A knowing she could neither explain nor ignore.
She said it wasn’t madness, but purpose - a call from somewhere deep in her soul, asking her to do what no one else dared. A summons to save her country, to crown a rightful king, to remind a broken nation that faith meant action, not submission, not blind obedience, but trust in one’s own inner light.
She had no title, no army, no education. Only conviction.
She cut her hair, put on men’s armor, and rode to war with nothing but a banner and a belief that the truth within her was stronger than the powers against her. What began as laughter at her audacity turned into awe. Hardened soldiers - men who’d seen decades of blood and ruin - found themselves standing taller in her presence. They swore less, and prayed more. Whole battalions followed her not out of fear, but because she reminded them what they were fighting for.
She didn’t command through brutality or cunning - she commanded through clarity. Her certainty was contagious and magnetic - it made others remember their own.
Generals who had sneered fell silent in her presence. Kings who ruled through fear hesitated before her fearlessness. Even the cynical felt something crack open - a kind of holy discomfort, as if looking at her forced them to remember the vows they’d long betrayed.
She didn’t flatter or negotiate. She spoke as if her orders came from a higher throne, and somehow, the room shifted to make space for that. Her presence alone seemed to bend reality - not through dominance, but through purity. She was proof that conviction, when lit by love, can move armies, soften tyrants, and make even the most jaded remember that something sacred still burns beneath the rubble. She became living proof that when a person trusts the voice within - utterly, without compromise - the world itself begins to rearrange around that truth.
Her name was Jeanne d’Arc, but history remembers her as Saint Joan of Arc - the girl who followed love louder than fear. And the example she set of courage under fire would outlive her by centuries, her relentless determination to follow her own inner truth becoming a map for brave souls who followed in her footsteps.
The Fire Carried Forward
When her enemies finally captured her, they put her on trial for heresy, demanded she recant her inner knowing, and when she refused, they tied her to a stake in the town square and set her alight. They didn’t kill her for what she’d done - they killed her for what she believed, as if burning her at the stake would snuff out her light and stamp out her courage and turn her truth to cinders.
But truth doesn’t die in fire. It spreads.
Her body burned, but her conviction became windborne - carried through centuries to those who could recognize themselves in her courage. What the world meant to silence became a battle cry for generations to come.
Her body may have turned to ash, but her courage didn’t burn out - it multiplied. Across centuries and continents, her name became a whisper on the lips of every soul who refused to yield to fear. Revolutionaries, artists, and visionaries each carried a spark of her defiance, whether they knew it or not.
When the French Revolution erupted three centuries later, her banner reappeared - not in silk and armor, but in the spirit of people rising against oppression. Napoleon called her “the most extraordinary person in our history,” holding her up as proof that faith and destiny could belong to the commoner, not just the crown.
Mark Twain found her story so sacred he called his book about her “the best thing I ever wrote.” He said she stood “pure in her motives, stainless in her life,” the only hero he’d ever known who never faltered.
When George Bernard Shaw wrote Saint Joan in 1923, the world was reeling from war, and once again needed reminding that courage doesn’t come from rank, it comes from conscience.
For the suffragettes, Joan was their saint in armor. Women marched through London carrying her image high, chanting for the same rights she’d embodied centuries before - the right to act, to lead, to follow one’s own call.
Even Martin Luther King Jr. would one day speak of her, honoring the kind of moral courage that “faces the flames of an unjust society with faith as its armor.” Maya Angelou said writing truthfully was its own act of Joan-like bravery - “standing at the stake, with your words as your fire.”
Joan’s death was never her defeat. It was her ignition. And from that fire, a lineage of brave souls was born, each one remembering, in their own way, that the voice within is sacred, and that love, when it’s real, will always burn louder than fear. Through revolutions and renaissances, through poetry and protest, her energy never died. Because what Joan carried wasn’t doctrine. It was frequency.
The frequency of love louder than fear.
The Aries Full Moon: The Fire Returns
This week, centuries after Joan, that same fire rises again - not in armor or on horseback, but in hearts that can no longer stay quiet.
The Aries Full Moon on October 7 calls us back to that same place of holy defiance: the point where love overrules fear, where truth refuses to stay hidden, where the voice within grows too loud to ignore.
Aries energy is the first spark of the zodiac - raw, alive, uncompromising. It’s the courage to begin, to break from the old order, to act because your soul says “go,” even when the world says “wait.”
And with the Sun opposite in Libra, this Full Moon lights up the axis of “me versus we,” “truth versus diplomacy.” It exposes where we’ve been too polite, too patient, too willing to keep the peace while our spirit withers.
This is the Moon of the moment when enough is enough.
Like Joan, we’re being asked to trust the voice inside more than the noise outside. To trade perfection for purpose. To stop waiting for permission to act, speak, create, or change. Aries doesn’t negotiate; it initiates. It moves because it must.
And just as Joan’s certainty made kings tremble and armies rally, this Moon invites each of us to lead with the same quiet authority - not the dominance of ego, but the strength of truth.
It doesn’t have to look grand. Your “battlefield” might be your art, your boundaries, your body, your voice. But the same choice remains: fear, or love. Silence, or truth.
The Aries Moon always burns away what’s false, and what’s left is what was real all along. Under this Moon, we must each ask ourselves:
What am I ready to begin again?
What truth in me is tired of being polite?
And what would it look like, right now, to follow love louder than fear?
The World Is Burning Clean
It isn’t only hearts being held to the flame right now. It’s nations. Institutions. Whole empires of denial.
Just as this Full Moon calls each of us to listen to the voice within, it’s calling entire countries to face their reflection. Under this sky, power structures tremble the same way the human ego does when truth finally breaks through the armor. Every government, church, and empire is being asked the same question Joan was asked at nineteen: Will you stay true to what’s right, or to what’s safe?
This is not chaos for chaos’s sake. It’s purification - a cosmic audit of courage. The same fire that once burned a girl for hearing her own truth now burns through nations that have forgotten theirs.
In Nations Under Fire: An Aries Full Moon Reckoning, I’ve traced how this Aries Moon lands across the charts of major countries, including Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Iran, Israel, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Pakistan, Palestine, Russia, Saudia Arabia, South Africa, Turkey, Ukraine, the United Kingdom and the United States as well as the European Union and Vatican City to see how each nation holds up under the fire of this Aries Moon. Each is meeting its own reflection, deciding what survives the blaze.
This is the collective mirror of the personal one. The same story, just scaled to empires. What Joan faced in the 1400s - the choice between truth and obedience - now confronts the modern world.
Because this isn’t just a Moon for individuals to awaken. It’s a Moon for civilizations to remember their soul.
The Fire That Heals
This Aries Full Moon isn’t asking us to burn out - it’s asking us to burn true. What began as one girl’s courage has become a collective calling - for souls and societies alike - to remember that the real revolution begins within.
As the Aries Full Moon shines in the sky on October 7, take a moment to still yourself under its light. Each of us under this Moon stands before the flames. Our nations, our leaders, our institutions, and all of us are being pressed to choose between fear and integrity, illusion and love.
Breathe out what’s finished.
Breathe in the rhythm rising.
When you finish, linger in stillness.
Drink water.
Write one line of release and one of intention.
That is enough.
The Magic Normal has crafted a powerful Aries Full Moon sonic activation (below) you can listen to by the light of this Moon. Anchored in 528 Hz (the Solfeggio frequency of repair and renewal) and attuned to the solar plexus and sacral center to awaken inner strength and clarity, this stirring sound journey will help anchor you in your heart and conjure your courage as you allow this Moon to do what it came to do.
Because this Full Moon is not about doing more. It’s about remembering the eternal ember that’s already alive within you - the same one Joan carried through fire, the same one every brave soul carries forward still.
This is a time to stand in your truth.
To listen to the voice within.
To follow love louder than fear.
My intention in my writing is to lessen the climate of fear around world events by offering clarity and cosmic context for what’s unfolding; to bring context to the chaos. I believe our highest calling right now is to anchor in the vibration of love & truth and call in a more beautiful world, and to do that, we must lean out of fear. I hope you read this with an open, uplifted heart.
This is absolutely brilliant!
Ah, Jeanne d'Arc, her story has always resonated with me and you have beautifully brought her back.