My friend Erin changed her Facebook profile picture to a celebrity. You’ve probably been invited to do the same. Her status update said something like: ‘it’s doppleganger week. Change your profile picture to the celebrity people think you most look like.’ She really did resemble Angie Harmon. I asked myself who that was and came up blank, so I asked my husband who said, ‘Winona Ryder’, who is not my favorite celebrity association. She does nothing for me. I went through a list of names who people have said I resembled and nope, I don’t resemble any of those people at all. I have my moments, my husband pointed out, when I resemble Angelina Jolie in spirit. Since I like Jolie, that was okay. Still. I look like me.
My book has now been unleashed on the world. It’s a great creative achievement. My progressed Moon at the final 29th degree of Leo is still wondering who this Love Alchemist authoress, is. My publisher bills me as ‘the Carrie Bradshaw of astrology’ (actually a sassy nod from a college professor of mine). It’s a persona, but it doesn’t exactly match my life today: far more stepmom & chicken farmer than soulful single gal, the spirit in which I wrote the book. This all leaves a huge gap about how to proceed with persona. To carry it forward, I need to show Leonine personality and flair. I need to go forward as positive and joyful – Leo traits. I need to muster charisma. During the middle of a demanding Saturn-Pluto transit.
How does a girl pull on such positivity when she’s just not feeling it? From the resigned conversations I hear around town, it’s not just me. Our collective relationship to circumstances (Saturn) is stretching us to achieve something more transformative and grand (Pluto)…than this. Meanwhile we’re up to our neck in ‘than this’: the job that’s not paying you enough, the aging or dying relative you care for, basically the grind that’s become much more a moment by moment grind, than a daily one. I’ve been asking myself this question vigorously, and the more I ask, the more I realized my relationship to that question needs to change.
Then I did something different.
At the suggestion of my Leo husband, I took a full moonlit ferry ride last night into San Francisco for a friend’s birthday party. After a day of feeling rather stuck, it’s a miracle I pulled off ‘spontaneity’ at all. The adventure was almost self-sabotaged by my own late arrival to the Ferry landing. But I had dressed the part, wearing black trench coat and European boots, so I think it was meant to be. By the time I slid onto deck at ‘last call for boarding’, gate closing and earning a wink from the boat hand (in-character as the crusty yet jolly sailor) I began conjuring up a character myself. Imaginatively invigorated by costume, stage and setting, and my windswept arrival, I went up deck and sat down. The sea was calm and black. I could see San Quentin on one side, Richmond Bridge on the other. The air was pristine, fully oxygenated and I took a deep, long breath. I looked up. The Moon was breathtaking. When two of the three people on deck, on their cell phones threatened to buzzkill my growing full moon buzz, I decided to head outside.
The wind whipped through my long hair as the boat picked up speed. I stood at the helm, watching the land recede and disappear into a pool of deep black. Alcatraz came into view. The Trans America building, Ghiradelli Chocolate and Hills Bros. Coffee signs welcomed me to a vision of San Francisco, a spectacular sight. I’d forgotten how beautiful and romantic this city is. I felt romantic. When I stood at the helm of the boat, wind whipping through my hair, feeling at one with the elements, in my mind’s eye a vision formed. I saw a regal looking Kate Winslet from the move Titanic, minus the sinking ship part. I’d contacted my spiritual doppleganger of the moment. Again, my doppleganger didn’t resemble me in looks at all but at this perfect moment, her spirit of triumphant beauty, did.
This realization led me through the spontaneously pleasant alchemical process of unfurling my imagination. While standing at the helm, moon light beaming down, I reflected on my persona non grata problem anew. Reinvigorated and because I’d contacted the sheer joy of being taken by surprise, I suddenly found it easier to envision being the charismatic Love Alchemist. Instead of holding onto being a mental construct of MY Self and MY Life, and wondering how I would become this persona, I began really living. I was lovingly heart-chakra’d into the moment, by surrendering to the moment. By the time the boat docked harbor I was a changed woman. Not bad for thirty minutes and the price of a ferry ride.
The Sun’s transit through Aquarius asks us to break our brittle little habits cultivated during the Sun’s passage through Capricorn. Be they habits of negativity, worry or pessimism, such mechanical views of the world stymy everything within us that’s alive and fresh. By the time the Leo Full Moon comes round, it’s time to start living again. This begins with trusting life a little more to take us by the hand, to show us a good time. We may need to be spontaneous. We may need to use our imagination. We may even need to call on the supernatural, magically transporting powers of romance. When our worldview has crystallized into something inhuman and impersonal, our imaginative muscles gone stiff with boredom, Leo suggests we put down our rigid thoughts, stop playing cat and mouse with the key board, and spontaneously play with this breathtaking moment. It’s not a big move – it’s only a decision away. In embracing the romance of spontaneity, and rolling (or floating) with it, who knows where we might be transported to? Who knows what character we might become?