I never considered my self a brooder, but it’s the Scorpio Sun in the air and I’m having some feelings lately. About things I’d thought I’d buried and put to rest, but really aren’t. I think of the phrase “burying the hatchet” and realize that the hatchet is still a hatchet, and it’s a hatchet. Certain things still have teeth, and are subject to revival and renewal during the Scorpio Sun season. For example, I’ve become recently convinced that because a friend who hasn’t returned my phone calls, it probably means she doesn’t love me any more. I know, maybe she’s just…busy. Nah. I’m certain she’s got an opinion about something I did or said (which of course, I don’t know about and she won’t tell me) and she’s probably removed me from list of birthday cards along with having cut me out of her will. As thoughts are added like dry timber added to this small ember of hurt, a small fire starts to grow and then roar. Well -she was always so NICE, but you know what they say, the brighter the light the darker the shadow. The reality of what’s happening hits me in rapid fire. I think several things all at once a) I sure want her to love me b) gosh, is this what my Scorpio friends grow through? and c)woah, that’s how resentments begin. With a small pinprick to the heart. A smart a** comment here or there. So casually. So, oops!
The evolution of a grudge: born of misunderstanding, nursed by an idle imagination, and an inability to take emotional action. Held in place by a relationship impasse or pure refusal. And fueled by resentment. Definitely. Once the grudge starts, it takes on a life of it’s own. Of course the grudge is always unrelated to reality – after all it’s being nursed by a loveless monster who insists no one loves us so we’d better go eat worms. If the Grudge were a place, I’d imagine it would be Motel Bates (of the Norman order), a deceptively welcoming respite for your hurt and sorry feelings, located at the end of Grudge Road, the dark low road everyone avoids because you can smell the stench from miles away.
I am a water sign so I have a natural affinity with the Scorpio season. It doesn’t make it any easier. I realize that although I do have frequent intense and dark emotions, I’d prefer to not share them with others. Emotional acid is acid and if I am in that space I don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s a self-image thing, too. When it comes to how I interact with others, I’d prefer to take the high road, or better yet, the road less travelled. I endeavor to avoid the low road with all my being. And I suppose that makes me just like (almost) everyone else. Still I know that’s exactly how a person winds up there. A back-up on the emotional express-way can cause problems. When all other signs at the more hospitable and friendly feeling places read: “no vacancy” there you find your self. At Motel Bates, on Grudge Road.
There are worse places to be, than Grudge Road I guess. I’d just prefer to catch myself before I wind up there. Having grown up with two parents who both shared Scorpio rising and Scorpio Moon (and one of them with a Pluto-Sun opposition) you could say I’m predisposed to picking up on the emotional garbage in the system. Oh, another psychic attack. Pass the peas, won’t you? You get my drift. I have an aversion to emotional stews and spews. Again, I know I’m not alone here, and plenty of us are joined in solidarity having footed bills for years of psychotherapy which is what…perhaps our parents should have done in the first place? It’s not that I’m wanting to throw my poison on your poison either, but all this Scorpio intensity resurfacing like a Tale from the Crypt does leave me asking the question in earnest: when we’re in that deep and dark place, and we’ve reached that murky impasse, how do we kindly share our feelings without pushing others away? And is it even a fair or reasonable request to make of another, asking you to minister to my emotional monster (shouldn’t I ask you for permission or something)? And how to avoid the emotional sting? With those kind of built in complications, even with the people we love most it’s a lot easier to wear a disguise. Until those bitter little Scorpio masks, resentment, brooding anger, spew.
I know this quality of sharing is reserved only for the most intimate relationship. Those with a foundation of trust and commitment. The kind that allows you to “go there” and although doesn’t involve a psychologist, an exchange of money and a couch, is therapeutic in it’s own way. I don’t look to every relationship in my life for this. Yet I have cultivated certain relationships with people I can call up, on the verge of tears. I know these people won’t judge me, that they will be kind, and they will hold my hand while they will play the reverent and sacred role of wise and all-knowing person. They will be compassionate. I will be humbled by them. And they will have my eternal gratitude for it. Then there are others, whom I just won’t call. Not because I don’t think they’re compassionate folk, but that for one reason or another – the relationship never seems to want to go all the way. You know, all the way. The point where you and I agree to let down our guard and really worm our way into each other’s hearts and lives. Which, ultimately, is the deciding factor in how far I pursue the whole “can YOU take my heat?” question.
Even with my husband, whom I trust with my heart, my secret psycho side, and my soul (and not necessarily in that order) I often do ask permission, just to save us all from some grief. Just the other day I was having a moment, and I asked: ‘hey, I’m really upset about this. Are you available to be here with me and help me through it?’ He replied, with the best of intentions, and unconvincingly: ‘of course I am. What’s up?’ In that moment I gaged the flat tone in his voice, the fatigue in his face, replied, ‘that’s okay’ and took my verge of tears self out to the car where I could let down my guard, and cry and call my sister instead.
See, it’s always easier to start a fire in the wrong moment, or with the wrong person, than to put it out. If there’s a tenuous balance we all hold during Scorpio season, between our emotions, how far to go into the dark matter, and with whom – I’m holding it. So don’t worry if you can’t take the heat. Likely, you won’t hear from me. Cause if you’re on for Scorpio duty, you already know who you are.