I’m usually a pretty reliable weather vane for the lunations but this one’s a stinker. The season of Leo, in it’s purest expression, is a time to enjoy the vitalizing power of the Sun, right now at the height of it’s fiery glory. I like to think Leo has a certain enlightened selfishness. Our creative drive contains our life force, which when honored, that life force allows us to make a creative contribution to the world. Where Leo is found in the birth chart is where we can find this and more – the more being, the joy of what makes us feel most alive, loved, full of laughter and joie de vivre. Celebration? Joie de Vivre? I’m all for it, but where is the love? Because I’m not feeling it. Maybe I’ve feeling wary of seeing so many who have used their solar power at the expense of the collective, who now stand like street urchins in rags picking up the scraps of their dinner parties. It is the age of Aquarius after all; so not the age of Leo. We are just so tired of getting burned by people who have used their self-interest wrongly, who have used their ability to persuade and entertain, people who have used their power of charisma (and let’s face it, self-involvement) like a snake charmer to do some very, very bad things. It really throws a massive stink bomb into the whole Leo ‘I am the center of my own Universe’ party that comes along every August. And I was really looking forward to it.
Alas, some days it’s hard to feel joy, some days you can simply find no reason for celebrating. You especially do not feel like celebrating the ‘personal status law‘ victory Afghani men recently won, that is, the right of a man to legally punish his wife for refusing sex on demand by starving her Read more
I was recently informed by a sign in the mall that summer is almost over! I barely noticed it was here. I guess that sign was supposed to create buyer urgency, but it had the opposite effect, sending a wave of tiredness over me so I turned around and went home. In fact, the defining quality of my summer has been fatigue; I feel I cannot get enough sleep and when I am in bed for stretches of time my ears are getting sore from wearing earplugs (someone snores) so I’m waking up, changing ear plugs, harrumphing in irritation, or simply trying to calm down (lots of herbal teas with valerian) from the busy days so the body can drift into sleep. The pace of life, the speeded up quality of time during the three eclipses spanning the entire summer, is taking its toll on me. Even sitting down to write this is at the cost of productivity in other areas, like the ones I get paid to do, and I almost didn’t write. Yet the price of not sniggling time away to create, to write, to clean the house like a merry maid on speed so I can invite friends over for dinner – is much higher. As my energy risks being consumed by the essentials; I fear, correction, I know that I cannot survive on fumes, so I continue to take care of the artist child within. I sneak ‘evening pages’ (a twist on TAW ‘morning pages’ as I am not a morning person) into the last half hour before bed. I remember to take walks at lunch. I relish gym time because it’s MY time.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned this summer, yet again, its that nature abhors a vacuum. The minute there’s nothing going on (okay, unless you’re in a Saturn or Neptune transit), She fills it with something else. Read more