This is a repost from 2007, in celebration of today’s Summer Solstice.
Todos Santos, All Saints, in Baja Mexico is on the Tropic of Cancer, and it’s where I find myself this summer solstice 2007. How on earth am I at the right place, at the right time?! These 3-4 days around June 21, the Sun reaches his northernmost point at the tropic of Cancer, that latitudinal line in space where the Sun is directly overhead at noon. We are experiencing the longest days of the year, and the shortest nights right now. From now thru December, sunlight will slowly diminish. Read more
It’s my first visit to China, and nothing is what it seems. I am truly a fish out of water! Using astro*cart*ography*, my contemplative natal Fourth House Jupiter magically becomes a Midheaven line, and I am on several Uranus crossing (paran) lines including, Mercury/Uranus and Sun/Uranus. If having expansive Jupiter turned inside out weren’t enough, Jupiter and Uranus together make for nonstop mind-blowing Shanghai surprises. I won’t look hard: Shanghai is full of them. Read more
Travel is stunningly synchronistic: our destinations choose us, for, wherever you go, there you are. Unsurprisingly one’s travel agenda often brings along one’s transits. Mine currently: Saturn and Pluto, not anyone’s idea of a vacation. Foreknowledge may be forewarned, but nothing prepared me for… duh duh duh… a double Saturn line (and a Saturn lunation). Never have I so clearly experienced, as Liz Greene describes, Saturn as the Devil. My own little Gemini Saturn has been good to me, but a triple dose was bedeviling. The Devil almost completely tricked me into succumbing to defeat; there were certainly enough problems. Yet, negativity, defeat, self-remorse…that’s how the Devil works his evil ways. Below, my astro-travel logue into the dark of Spain (Saturn in bold).
Old time greetings from the oldest inhabited city in the world: Damascus. One of the things about visiting a country so far away from home is that you just don’t know: whether your bags will arrive, the visa will be waiting at the airport, the internet will work (spotty as of this writing I don’t know whether I’ll be able to send this to you!) or if you’ll ever want to return. Travel is less about taking things on faith that it all will work out brilliantly (because sometimes it won’t) than endeavoring to appreciate and delight in everything that does.
But first, you’re curious about Damascus, aren’t you? Read more
“The house does not rest upon the ground, but upon a woman”- Mexican Proverb
We were sitting around a table at my sister’s house, four women, different ages all, but natives of a place called Santa Fe, New Mexico. I had made pancakes at my sister’s birthday request, and in between pancakes and pedicure appointments, the conversation returned to the subject of home. Mention the ‘land of enchantment’ and most folks grow imaginatively enchanted, with thoughts of charming sand-baked adobe huts, picturesque turquoise doorways with sleepy cats, sun bleached bone against endless blue sky, mountains named after watermelons (the Sandias), hippy & artist enclaves. It’s basically a cultural, spiritual mecca welcoming seekers who seek to root in a charming hacienda and pay a small fortune for the privelege. For many, life in New Mexico typifies the mythos of a Georgia O’Keefe painting – empty and feminine, dramatically spiritual, romantic, lush. This makes sense; Santa Fe is a Cancer Sun Sign city and for those longing to be embraced by the Great Mother, it beckons, ‘come and ye will be healed’.
Ask me where I’m from and I’ll say this was my home, though my internal experience of this home sharply contrasts with the image. Astro*carto*graphy says that when I moved from East to West my natal Twelfth House Pluto moved with me – to the Ascendant. Through sheer force of childhood will, I tried to make this home a safe haven, but the Universe had other things in mind. Read more
I’m at a hotel in Versailles. And all I can think is, of all places to be. As the world banking institutions hover on low panic, and the VP debates just hours awayare stirring international press to a barely tolerable frenzy, we’re staying a mere two blocks away from the Palace of Versailles, home of the infamous Marie Antoinette, the most unapologetically indulgent Queen of France who was lovingly referred to as “the defecit of France” by her beloved people. The same ones who later sent her to the guillotine. It is for this surreal reason, and at this strange turning point in history, that when I deeply consider the paradox, I do belive this is the perfect time to be a few steps away from the chateau d’ Marie. In a world mad with politics of war and of men, Marie was charmingly feminine, and sensually human during a similar crisis of unrest. Marie entertained, socialized, schmoozed, shopped and scandalously chose her company by the rapport they shared (not their station in life). Far from thrilled to be Queen, Marie did however, love the high life and the boogie and the parties her lifestyle allowed. Marie knew how to relax. Eventually this made French folks fairly uncomfortable. Read more