StarIQ.com's Cosmic Correspondent Kim Rogers-Gallagher has been invited to the planets' secret hangout. She's the first astrologer to enter this starry domain, and she reports regularly on her findings there.

Cosmic Café 36:
The Sun and Moon

The Sun bowed before the Moon, smiling. Then he took her into his arms, and rested his cheek on her hair. She was so tiny and petite next to him—in fact, he had to be at least a foot taller than her. They rocked from side to side in that tender embrace, and I was touched by this ultimate example of a true partnership. They seemed absolutely complete together, a perfectly matched pair. He was masculine, outgoing and flashy. She was feminine, receptive to his touch and subtly beautiful. I smiled and allowed myself to bask in the warmth of their meeting, and knew that I'd never look at a Full Moon again in the same way. Although she was days away from being exactly opposite to him, and "full" in the traditional sense, they were already warming up for that meeting—and I had just been taught what it was really all about without anyone saying a word.

The Full Moon is typically a time of high emotions. In fact, I'd heard many times that hospital emergency rooms and police stations routinely scheduled extra staff during those evenings when the Full Moon shone. Seeing them together, it made sense. With the Sun and Moon both lit—"showing off," basically—both pride and feelings were peaked. The atmosphere in the room was charged, emotionally and energetically.

Finally, the Moon detached herself from the Sun, and took over her role as Hostess at the Café. "All right, let's have some dinner," she said. "Our girl here must be starving."

The Sun asked me to sit by him, as Venus and the Moon disappeared through the kitchen door. Oddly enough, I wasn't intimidated by him, as I had been by Saturn. It was just good to be around him—and I felt energized by his presence. He patted my hand and motioned to Mercury to join us. The Messenger scuttled over quickly, and sat down. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mars head over to the door, where he stood at attention, obviously doing guard duty. Wasn't that appropriate—the God of War playing bouncer for The Boss?

The Sun spoke. "So I hear that Saturn decided to play rough with you, hmmm?"

Mercury nodded sympathetically, and added, "The Sun would like you to know how terrible he feels about this."

I smiled and thanked him. "It's okay," I said. "I really did need to slow down a little."

The Sun tipped his head and grinned at me. "You've got a great attitude, young lady—and attitude is everything in my book."

That made sense, too. The Sun is the part of our charts that gets us where we're going in life—so if our attitude isn't positive, we don't go too far. It's primary that we "feed" our Sun with positive experiences that give us joy and allow us to "shine." I was suddenly delighted that I had been born with the Sun in optimistic Sagittarius, a sign that automatically bestows a positive attitude. Although my ankle still ached from Saturn's "wonderful learning experience," I was having a marvelous time.

The Sun went on. "No matter what happens in life, there's something positive in it—something you were supposed to learn from the experience. Keep that in mind, young lady—that every single thing that ever happens is part of the plan, and without it, you wouldn't be the person you are now."

"I understand," I said, and then allowed my Sag Sun to say something bold. "But couldn't he have settled for just spraining it?"

The Sun laughed. "Good girl," he said. "Now, tell me, what do you hear from Jupiter?"

"Nothing right now," I answered. "I think he's still in Amsterdam with Neptune."

The Sun rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, that's right. They just get lost when they're together there. It could be weeks before they're back. Did you have a good time with them, though?"

"It was wonderful," I said. "Great fun. The experience of a lifetime."

That obviously made the Sun proud—and he loved to be made proud. "Well, there's more where that came from, my dear. As a Sag, you've only just begun to experience the wonders of this planet. But I'll leave the details to Jupiter, and just tell you that you'll be doing a lot more traveling, laughing and learning—soon. So get yourself healed up, do your homework and I'll do my best to get Saturn off your back."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Any assistance in that department would be greatly appreciated."

Just then, the Moon and Venus emerged from the kitchen, plates heaped high. Mercury jumped up and began arranging chairs. He left a spot at the head of the table empty, which I thought was a bit odd. Then he disappeared into the back room of the Café, and came out carrying what could only be described as a throne, a high-backed, gorgeous chair with red-velvet cushions. A gold Sun was carved into the top of the chair, and a crown hovered above it. How wonderful—the king's chair.

The Sun settled into his throne, and asked me to sit on his left. The Moon, as I expected, slid into the chair on his right—but the Sun wouldn't allow that. "Mercury," he said, "Get my lady her chair, please."

Mercury jumped up again, ran into the back room and returned with a smaller throne that matched the Sun's. It, too, was carved wood, but there was a silver Moon at the top. The cushions, I noticed, were silver, too—and a lot thicker. Ah, yes. The Moon's love of comfort was famous. She sat back, looking like a queen, as Venus and Mercury served us. The Sun called to Mars to come and join us, which he did—after he'd locked the door and pulled down the shade. The dinner was marvelous—and I suddenly giggled as I realized I was literally enjoying the "food of the gods." I shared that thought with all of them, and they all laughed with me.

Suddenly, Mercury's cell-phone rang. "Yeah, she's here, Big Guy. No, she's fine." Apparently, Jupiter had heard the news. I wondered what he was saying to Mercury. He paused, listening. "Um, no. I don't know where he is. But I'll find him, and tell him. Okay?" He listened for a moment more, then nodded. "Gotcha. I'm on it."

Mercury put down the phone, and raised his eyebrows. Then he stood up. "Well, Moon, I gotta go. That was Jupiter. He wants me to deliver a message to Saturn. With your permission, of course," he added, looking at the Sun.

"Permission granted," the Sun replied. "But keep in touch, okay?"

"You got it, Boss." Mercury dashed out of the Café, despite the Moon's protests that he finish his dinner. I was left to finish dessert with my charming Libra, Leo and Pisces companions—and to wonder what exactly Jupiter had told him to tell Saturn.

Next Week: A ride home with Venus and Mars