Aries always reminds me of my kid self. I know, I know, you could say Leo is the eternal child, and having a Leo husband I see your point there, too. But maybe Aries is the perennial child, the part of us that emerges from winter into springtime, eager for today. Why does hope so readily spring eternal for Aries, the first sign of the zodiac? It’s another chance to live in the moment, because that’s when we’re really doing our Aries. There is only the now. If there were ever an Aries watch, it’s the stopwatch: Now. Now. Now.
When I was a kid, I experienced all kinds of Aries joys: I’d climb tall trees with the boys in a part of the ‘hood that bore a sign “no trespassing.”
I’d plot the course of my next roller skating derby to be shown (unbeknownst to my neighbors) in their driveway. When my sister and I waited in the car for mom to return from the grocery, I would play with the emergency brake- releasing it slowly so the car creeped backwards a slight little to my sister’s look of terror, and my own wicked delight.
I discovered fear, the thrill of testing boundaries, was a reliably awesome playmate – it could break up any dull or lackluster day. It got my adrenaline pumping. In my mind, it sped time up – including the slow curse of being an adult trapped in a child’s body. And with its rush it had the effect of erasing all previous disappointments and bringing me into the moment. In short, fear was grounding. It plopped me right back into the now.
Oh, I’ve sustained my share of martial injuries. Once, at the top of a gorgeous 4 story Maui waterfall, knees trembling and intuition screaming no, don’t do it my inner competitor waited like a thief in the night as I succumbed to the goading call of those below “jump, jump, jump…” and I jumped. Landing on the water in an upright sitting position, an upward ripple creeping up every vertebrae, oh, this must be what whiplash feels like. In that courageous and foolhardy act, I had discovered the tricky line between courage and fear. Ever since, I’ve noted that behind every act of courage, is fear, but not all fear is a call to action. Sometimes bravery is self-restraint, strapping that wild child into her seat belt, and patiently waiting for the right moment to arrive.
As I grow a little older, most of the courage I need now isn’t evil kneival style – it’s more about heading outside the four walls of my comfort zone. Gratefully, my elder Aries self joyfully recognizes hardly a moment goes by where there’s not yet another chance to be brave, to boldly encounter the fear and the thrill of new territory. Reaching out to a new friend, taking a dance class, collaborating with a colleague – it’s all virgin territory. Actually, every day I write I attempt to turn fear into courage: will this be a disaster or a discovery? Am I ready to say this, or do I still need a few more laps around the notebook with my training shoes?
And at the beginning of each quest, no matter big or small, the Aries warrior sees only one outcome: success. Owing to the sign’s incredible beginner’s luck! To “strike when the iron is hot” speaks to the genius potential in flowing right timing with intuitive impulse. Yet hardly every endeavor turns out successful in the exact way we want it to. My Aries friend recently reminded me of this when she told me that every time she absolutely insisted on a right and certain track for a project, it changed. And in hindsight, she could see it changed into something far grander, more fabulous than even she imagined for herself. Touche’.
So spring is here and now! Seize this day. Not yesterday or tomorrow. As Aries possesses the strange grace of falling off the horse and getting back on it again, looking slightly mangled but still arriving at the destination intended, the perennial child in each of us learns much more by falling down, and pushing the boundaries of gravity than by standing still. We’ve got to bump into a few walls to know what we’re capable of. Everyday presents a call to courage, to be engaged and present, in the moment. And in the present moment there are never failures, only spectacular successes.
It would be foolish to think otherwise, wouldn’t it?