don't make me laugh

There's a woman who works in my building, die hard smoker, who by now must have Emphysema. I used to think she was unfriendly, but it turns out, she's smoked so much for so long that she can barely utter a full sentence without breaking into a wheeze fest.

I personally have come down with the kind of chest cold that's making me walk around telling people NOT to make me laugh because the cough that comes with it is so terribly painful.

That said, I was reminded of the smoker lady who's grandchildren, children, etc. should she have any will never hear the sound of her actual laughter. And making her laugh actually makes you feel a little bad because she's now wheezing and coughing between drags.

I'm bringing this up for reasons other than the obvious "DON'T SMOKE." I'm bringing it up because habit and the odd workarounds, nuances and pain that go with it are all around us. I went out with a good friend the other day and she recalled how she had at one time shared a bed with someone who was quite a cuddler. They had a water bed and she would often end up finding herself stuck between the bed frame and the actual bed. Most people who have dogs or pets that sleep with them go through similar conundrums and continue the pattern nonetheless.

These are pretty harmless examples, but the moral of the story is the same. People will often endure pain in order to avoid the pain of changing. So, how did we get to be that way? And what's your pain?

half man half horse

from here

The new moon in Sag and Mercury in Sag! I'll say the winds of optimism blew their fire my direction and I'm so glad to be done with Scorpio's persecution!

Sagittarius is based on the mythology of the centaur. Half man, half horse. He was the 'King of the Centaurs,' more or less, and was notable for his wisdom of life, nature and human behavior as well as his love of drinking, cheating and merry-making. Sag also has a propensity for the 'truth' at all cost motif. If you've ever known someone with strong Sag in their chart, you know they are funny and fabulous story tellers, but will also say the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times. It's as though they are completely tactless, because in their minds. they are just stating the truth. What's wrong with that?!!

One thing about Sagittarian truth worth mentioning is it's not always based on factual information. Sag has a sort of innate sense about life and an ingrained knowing that life is meaningful. They often exhibit a blind faith to what they understand and will disregard hard facts for broad generalizations. Alas, this blind faith is also eagerly directed at life and aids them in a certain buoyancy that's unmatched by other signs. It can be frustrating to watch for someone with maybe strong Capricorn, working tireless to protect their precious reputation while eyeing Sag telling off-color jokes in a stakeholder meeting and still having others eat out of their hands.

Rough all over.

But, Sag did gain this way of being by way of living the life of half man and half horse. Working the dichotomy of civilization and instinctual animal nature is not a simple task. As a result he has great understanding and empathy for nature and the laws of it, as well is capable of realizing and accepting civilization for what it is and deriving great strategy for reaching greater heights. Sag is a noteworthy archer who aims high and far and for the kill. Mostly though, it's for the experience of it and the added 'wisdom' and a story in one's back pocket.

The well rounded Sag will always lend a kind word, be up for philosophical debate and buy you a beer or two when you're down. They are naturally generous at best in both pocketbook and spirit. Not always the most reliable sign given that horsey nature, they are perpetually on the move and if you hold them down they'll likely sneer and whinny away with the speed and damage of a horse in a house.

If you're interested in the mythology of the centaur, here are a couple quick reads.

http://avalon100.tripod.com/avalon/id14.html

http://astrolosophy.net/universe/zodiac-traits/sagittarius_mythology/

http://www.gods-and-monsters.com/sagittarius-myth.html

Otherwise, that's all I have to say.

air guitar

I'd like to say we never went down to the basement.
There was no reason to,
what with all the good stuff upstairs.

But that isn't true.

On occasion,
I'd get a wild hair
and we'd walk the four blocks to the VFW
spend all the cash getting happy drunk.

and when we got back;

We'd go down there and rock loud music
and make air guitars out of real guitars

I guess those are the ones that stick with you
as time dwindles on
metaphor
or real life for

pheasant breast

I realize it's Thanksgiving and I should probably write a blog post about all the things I'm thankful for, that said, my brain lent itself to an alternative tack.

I went pheasant hunting this morning. Five birds were had. What followed, for me was both disturbing, interesting and enlightening. Just another link in the chain of life as I see it. Connected, metaphorical and a reflection.

image from here

The birds were warm and nestled on the tailgate of my others truck and the veteran woman in our group offered to clean them. I watched as she flipped them on their backs and dug for the center of their feathers and skin and ripped them open to undress the breasts.

It was such a violent procedure that she undertook with such precision, but it just made me think of a man ripping open a woman's shirt to get at 'the goods.' Which then brought me around to assault of women and the taking by force of something wholly dead or innocent.

Onward to the plight of animal instinct in man-kind dressed in the modern lighting. And how the majority have managed to civilize instinct over time. Has instinct changed within our DNA? Or is it the same within the different frame? The need to provide is obviously much different than it once was and what about women's instincts? Are we becoming less motherly as we evolve? Or are we 'mothering' in new or ways that replace it with the workplace and alternative lifestyles? And still acts of violence are all around us. Are some genes perpetuating 'old' instincts?

It doesn't really matter. It is what it is and will continue to change and move. But how miraculous is the adaptability of human nature? At one time we were able to adapt and survive without electricity, running water, cars, etc. and now we adapt to the shit that comes with all this change. Is it better? Are we better? Does it matter that we've 'civilized' in the grand scheme? We wouldn't know any different if we hadn't, it would just be what it's always been. Weird.

Sometimes it looks like the world is The Beast and civilization is The Beauty. Slowly taming the adrenaline, testosterone and aggression man was born with.

All that to say, how the hell did the cleaning of a dead bird bring all this up? I guess the mind is a mysterious playground...

Happy Thanksgiving.

now do you know?

Sometimes I get to thinking Karma is the only way to explain all the shit that goes down in this world.

Karma says, Now do you know how it feels to:

• have someone look you in the eye and stab you in the chest (literally and figuratively.)
• have someone hand over a set of keys to a new house, for no reason.
• have someone lie to your face knowing full well you know the truth.
• have someone forgive you for something 'unforgivable.'
• deal with a know it all.
• have your _______ stolen.
• have your most personal thoughts torn to shreds.
• have someone boost your confidence and help you excel.
• be ignored over and over and over and over.
• have someone leave you at the alter.
• have someone cut you off in traffic.
• have someone move up the ladder when you 'deserve' it more.
• have someone love you no matter what.
• have someone leave you with no real reason.
• have someone make you feel shitty about your body or looks.
• have someone kill your entire family.

? You get the point.

Is it possible we've all done all of these things? I've truly tried, but I can't come up with anything else that makes "sense." At the very least the concept of Karma lends a balance and the promise of redemption in one's own hands. And still, I often find myself in shackles and cashing the checks of deeds done. Who knows...

And that's all I have to say today.

what do you want, a cookie?

Apparently people have wanted a peak at my private matters today. First a woman walked in on me in the bathroom stall, secondly someone tried to get into my gym changing room, followed by yet another person attempting the door in the tanning booth I was in (also at the gym). All this to say, I've decided to open the window via this post and let the world know what I've been mulling over the last few days.

Real people leading real naked lives. (courtesy of Spencer Tunick)

A good friend of mine is leaving her husband (for very good reasons) but she went on to tell me a bunch more stuff that always irritated the crap out of her. One of them was his apparent addiction to live pornography. She said, "he might as well just pick up a prostitute, it's basically the same thing."

Well, being true to my tarot birth cards (Justice and the High Priestess) I can't weigh into something until I've weighed all of it.

So I asked a few other ladies what they thought about this matter. One said, "I'd kill him." Another said, "He's a jerk, I don't give a crap what he does anymore." Yet another still said, "yes, it's cheating in  my book."

Well, then I asked Google. Yep, I said, "Google, is live pornography cheating?" Google had LOTS to say on the matter.

I decided to weigh both sides, let's break it down shall we?

It's no secret that men get away with things like this all the time. They stare at other women, look at nude magazines, visit porn sites, go to strip clubs, etc. Why do they get away with it? There are a number of reasons (er, excuses) that often get thrown out about this, such as...

• Men need variety. (Um, really? Do you want a cookie or something? Oh wait, that's what you're doing, getting your cookie.)
• Men think about sex constantly. (So, what. There are plenty of things in the world that need fixing, get a life.)
• We can't help it. (So, you're saying you are incapable of making decisions? There sure are a lot of you in political office then if that's the case)
• Men are visually oriented. (yes, we are right here in front of you)

Women get upset about things like this because:

• It's disrespectful to us. (Why then do we as a gender continue to provide this entertainment thus disrespecting ourselves)
• It's degrading. (See above)
• It makes me feel shitty and unattractive. (Yes, it does, especially because society tells you that you should be all things to men and be a whore, but only in bed with one man, and his need for you to be attractive all the time is really really important. Um, have you looked at him lately?)

Okay, now that we've got that out of the way let's cut the superficial BS and try to find some roots. The roots of these evils, on both ends, are ego driven and are perpetuated by our poor sense of self esteem. A man who needs to consistently engage with many other women who don't know or love him obviously needs constant ego stroking to feel good about himself. Women, see bullet number three above.

The sad truths:

1. Men who regularly engage with this crap (monthly, weekly, daily, whatever) are slowly eroding their ability to be satisfied by their real sex life by building immunities to what's really in front of them. (sad, but true)
2. Women who find out their men are doing this and confront them end up feeling worse because he will do it again and she will find out and be hurt. (sucky and true)
3. Women who find out and don't tell their man they know suffer resentment and suspicion. (suckier? but true)
4. Majority of women across the world are not satisfied with their sex lives, but instead of engaging in other activities (like men do,) blame themselves and try to figure out how to better please their man. (really really sad but true)

Question for men next time you hit the keyboard running - How would you feel if you spent the bulk of your free time cooking, cleaning, taking care of the kids, running errands, working and pleasing us only to find out that we spend our free time chatting with a real, live, naked men while they do stuff for us to watch and talk dirty to us? Does that make you feel good? Wouldn't it also be great if we told you that you were insecure and jealous for caring? Or if we've asked you not to do it anymore only to find out otherwise a few days later? Awesome, yeah, good stuff...

Question for women next time you 'find out' - How would you feel if you were taught from a young age that you're a MAN, and men think with their penis and you subconsciously bought into it. Now you use your brain exactly the way you were taught, on mindless nonsense when you could be inventing something amazing or solving world hunger. Sweet, amazing, me smart...

I didn't really answer the question. What do I think? Is live pornography the same as cheating? Kind of, you are engaging with another real human being. My bigger question is why in the world would you do that when you have a kind hearted, caring woman who loves you and would do anything to please you if you only asked.

Pretty stupid. All of it. Nothings sacred anymore. Times have changed. I agree with redefining relationships and everything else, but let's do it in ways that are beneficial and build the kind of lasting deep bonding that we all crave and are too scared to really have.

WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO WEIGH IN! Seriously, you can comment anonymously, I am fascinated to know what people think. If you missed the question, it's "IS LIVE PORN CHEATING?"

Peace out baby.

Disclaimer: This weigh in is based on 'best case scenario' situations. This isn't about he said she said or well, she won't have sex with me, etc. Just regular couples with average sex lives and real lives. Also, many items above are slightly exaggerated so you get the point.

razor sharp

I wonder what thoughts would feel like if you could touch them. I know I've felt their impact on my psyche through the ethers. But would they reflect their edges to the touch? Misaligned resentment cutting, slicing fingers. Serene loving like the inside of the perfect mother's womb...

image from mindislife.com

I know what they look like on the page, but they lose their luminosity in the transfer from soul to file. They become vulnerable to rapid misinterpretation and misuse, losing their purity and looking dry or damp. 

I wonder too, if these most precious thoughts are kept to the self for these reasons. To keep them safe from harm, that is to imply that thoughts have a value and protection is necessary. And maybe some things are just better left to the ethereal in their simplest form of masses of energy.

Who cares? Wonder, amazement and pondering do. I guess it means things you can't touch are equally important as those you can.

And that's all the shaming I can offer for now...

the significance of

What is the significance of life? Some say it's love, others say it's accomplishment, others yet say it's to be enjoyed. I'm having one of those days where I can't find a reason to be alive when it's certain that I will die. Depressing? I suppose it is, but there's opportunity in these moments to unearth a big ball of crap wadded up from cyclical material life.

My question is, if it is love, accomplishment, enjoyment, etc. why is there so much suffering in the world? How do we go about our business of enjoyment everyday with no concern for our fellow humans being murdered, uneducated and set up for failure? Is there some special secret to turning a blind eye? Or is it just accepting that it's 'just the way things are."

I know one thing for sure, I don't know what the meaning of life is. On more serene days sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of it staring at the sky or passing a most peculiar looking tree. Those are very solitary moments in time where you can actually see everything at once and its perfectly balanced, but just for a second, and then it's gone. All the sorrow, pleasure, remorse, reluctance and revelation returns.

Some people say you just have to find a way to deal with it. Laugh when you can. Love often. Be yourself and stay sane.

I want to know what everybody else thinks, not to change my mind (it's not made up,) but to garner a wider perspective of humanity. So, what say you?

slippery nothingness

it wasn't in the slippery nothingness of the rain on her shoes
but the dry immobile crustiness of life at her feet
straightened hair
narrow in brow
led not astray
but without stray
like the rays of some lost sheltered lamb
in the eyes of a mother's womb
she wept.

the secret lives of men and women

I'm home sick again today by popular colleague demand and in between napping I was leafing through a book I stumbled upon awhile back. I was at the Half Priced Book Store looking for answers to my current dilemma's through the accidental finding of another's words meant just for me. The book is called "The Secret Lives of Men and Woman" and is a series of dark secrets put out there by real people leading real lives. The author put himself out there to receive and publish these cloak and daggers on behalf of people to get it off their chests.

The book is fraught with things like the following:

"I mailed her an anonymous newspaper article about infidelity so that she would be suspicious." 

"I once gave LSD to a possum." 

"I committed adultery hoping it would be more than just a F&^k. I was wrong!" 

"When my husband comes home drunk and passes out, I steal money from his wallet."

You get the picture. In a way this book is very sad. It's troublesome to think about all the disappointments, fears, resentments and general unhappiness on our backs. At the same time I applaud the author for the creative endeavor in providing people the opportunity to drop off a load.

I have secrets of my own and I'm about to off one. It isn't so much a secret as a story I've never told anyone, because it would probably freak people out. Nonetheless, it is a true story and it did, in fact, freak me out.

As you may have read in a previous post, I am an avid Out of Body experiencer. I had a period in my early twenties where I spent time researching and experimenting extensively with it. I was just working and doing little else, so I would take a nap every day and go fly around the world.

I started doing things like flying out the window, looking around to see what was happening in the neighborhood and quickly drawing myself back in to look outside and see if things matched up. It turned out they often did. A particular car in a driveway, a dog in the yard, someone mowing the lawn or a piece of equipment on a patio, etc. I was shocked at this phenomena of being able to be out in the real world without my body (vehicle.) Yes, I am aware there are other possible explanations for this, but I was there...

Well, one day with no planning on my part I visited my significant other in one of these experiences and discovered he was doing drugs. I left my body easily and floated about carelessly until I 'was taken' to a building I knew to be his workplace. He was there walking down a hallway. I 'walked' next to him and he was talking in his head, saying things like, "this is the last time." "After tonight I'm not doing this anymore." "God this is stupid, why am I doing this." There were stairs at the end of the hallway and he went down and gave money to a man and took a bag of cocaine.

When I came back to the 'real' world I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. Was that real? Had I gone into a lucid dream? What was happening. It was massively confusing mind madness. Well, he was supposed to come over that night after work. I waited and waited, he never came, never called. I tried calling him, nothing.

I couldn't exactly confront him under the circumstances or just ask point blank. How crazy would that sound! Especially to a born again Christian who already thought I was a witch for being an astrologer. So, I kept my mouth shut and sure enough found out shortly thereafter that he was in fact using drugs and blowing me off because of it.

All this to say, I've never told anyone this and I have visited other people on these travels, albeit unintentionally. But it's freaky to know it's a possibility and what that might all mean.

Have a secret? Anonymous comments are welcome...

There is also a website filled with secrets by the books author http://www.postsecret.com.

Enjoy.

the biggest crime

"Well the pale morning sins of forgotten things, she plays a tune for those who wish to overlook. The fact that they've been blindly deceived by those who preach and pray and teach, but she falls short and the night explodes in laughter. "

- The Lion's Roar

 

I haven't been saying much lately, my will has denied the enormous pressure of words backed up in my brain, but I feel compelled to say this. I'll say it once and I'll keep it brief.

It is my humblest of opinions that the most offensive crime one can commit on another human being is to treat them as though they are not good enough exactly as they are; human, flawed and imperfect. To teach and treat children and adults alike that they 'should' be a certain way, that somehow they would be better if they went against their natural inborn ways of looking, thinking, feeling and doing is truly insidious, unintelligible and straight up cruel. Although I may take ridicule for saying so, I feel that murder is almost more humane. And these crimes on human nature are what lead to the crimes more commonly referred to as crimes.

Now, I'm not saying that offering guidance or assistance to others to improve themselves is wrong. But to truly and intentionally put those thoughts into someone's mind is also a crime on humanity because in doing so the confidence and drive to put oneself out into life to make it a better place with ones unique gift is now tainted with all that is fear.

It is not a wonder there is so much violence, hate and cruelty in a world where we do not see that I am you and you are me. We inhabit the same place, habituate the same, struggle the same struggles and feel the same feelings.

The upside is we can do something about it.

And that's all I have to say right now...

it's all personal

Having spent time researching submitting poetry and writing I've noticed a common banality. In many of the submission guidelines they drone on and on about not writing about yourself. I find this curmudgeonly in the sense that HOW CAN YOU NOT write about yourself? Even if you're writing fiction you're still living through a set of characters and spinning their reactions from your internal feelings and intuitions about life and the characters.

image from here because I'm too lazy to make one.

In my humblest of opinions, this is comparable to asking for a facade, asking for something fake. And even if you're faking it, it's still personal, because YOU'RE faking it. It can only be faked in the way that you are capable of supplying said fakery.

I do have a point, maybe. It's like people. The people who are closest to us don't care about any face we can put on, they would find that drab and for lack of a thesaurus; superficial. What is the point of expressing oneself in interaction if you're only expressing a fabricated part of you. Why would writing, singing, dancing, living and being pose any difference.

In short. It's all personal. Life is personal. Experience is personal. Love is personal. Sex is personal. Routine is personal. Pets are personal. Children are personal. And WE are; personal. Although my eyes see something other than what you see, when we take the time to breathe in someone elses exotic perspective, we connect with that which is larger than us, because we know; somewhere, somehow, somebody else is muddling through the same shit that we are.

The end.

something symbolic

At the risk of being more shameless than I already am, I'm going to rant a bit. With any luck, the excess of the rant will be kept to a minimum and refrain from trespassing.

I'm turning 32 tomorrow. Woo hoo. Every year for the past several I've done something symbolic to reign in the year. Like what? Well, not anything huge. One year I went hiking because I felt it might invoke my love of nature and exercise more grandly for the year. Another, I bought myself a really overstated hat, as in, 'wearing a new hat,' in attempt to take the figurative to the literal. Yet another I took myself to my favorite cafe haus and purged my brain of the previous years nonsense on paper. Last year I aced a Psych test, ate a delicious venison steak and drank wine afterwards - in short I worked hard and got doubly rewarded. I find in many ways that did filter into this past year.

I've noticed over the years that most people just don't get this. At all. What do you mean by that? Or just dead air, move onto something more frivolous and quickly. But that's the point! The entire reason for it is really just an annual reminder and hat tip to myself about who I am as a person. Not frivolous, a true lover of meaning, coincidence and purpose in life. And it seems to me that it makes sense to intentionally honor that as my function of having been born.

I guess I'm saying shamelessly, Happy Birthday to me ;) I've said it before and I'll say it again. There's magic in the ordinary if you allow your intuition to notice it.

That's all I have to say right now.

August 28, 1963

Image from here

I was thinking about how Martin Luther King gave his "I have a Dream" speech on August 28, 1963 and now 49 years later the moon is in Aquarius where it was when MLK was born. The Sun is in Leo and the Jack of Hearts rules the day. Whether or not that means anything at all I have no idea. But it somehow struck a chord for me. I too was born under the Aqua moon influence.

We all know what he did and what he stood for and he forever represents the enormous impact that one single individual can have on the benefit of the greater whole (Leo/Aqua axis.) He reached in and pulled on the very vein that keeps humanity connected. We all have dreams and aspirations and we all need and deserve the right and the opportunity to reach the highest potential we strive for. Without that, as humans, we are nothing. The met needs of the individual contribute to the good of our culture, relationships and strengthen our communities.

This is all common knowledge to us now, or maybe it is? I'm not sure. I know I prattle through days where I revert back to being a teenager and think the damn sun revolves around me and I need my mirror shattered into tiny splinters to realize that it really doesn't. (intentional run on sentence for extra drama) There's something calming in the shatter though, it takes the pressure off and doing something for somebody else always takes my mind off my ego's ridiculous troubles.

I've also spent time with people who seem not to give a damn about the whole or humanity in general. They aren't being harmful to others, but they are stuck by the needs of surviving every day life and I have to wonder how that can be? Many of us are doing just fine but still strive to reach material heights while there are so many suffering from true survival needs. What does that even say about us? What is this life even about? If one man can have this kind of impact what could we do if we all lived like that? Or is it really up to the 'sore thumbs' to stick out and take care of business for the rest of us. Because their wounded and their regenerative powers have made them courageous. I don't know.

And now this brief rambling will come to an abrupt end...

5 more minutes

If you wait five more minutes, something amazing might happen. Or it won't. But maybe it will. Like the avenging of a wrong, remembering something forgotten, or the silent scream finally heard.

In those five minutes, the mind is so loud and powerful. If redirected, success it surely will find. But locked inside that hostile raging uterus, the hatred grows wild as a field of milkweed.

Five minutes go by. Maybe five more. What keeps them waiting for these granular momentary fulfillments that are nothing but superfluous. Feeders of a hungry ego. Living towards a tired limelight.

Still, five more minutes. For what?

70 years and something 'weird'

My best friend's Grandpa died the other day at age 90. I got lost on my way to the 'funeral' and had to reach out to her husband to find my way. As we were walking in, I told him I couldn't figure out why a funeral would be at an apartment complex. He said, this is just a memorial, the burial isn't until Monday. He also said, yeah, Em's family is weird, I just try to be supportive.

Picture is from here

This family has always been a model of what is real for me and this memorial was no different. My best friend's mom gave the most beautiful speech about her father's life, equipped with a slide show of pictures to help tell his stories. After which, nearly everyone in the room stood up and told their memorable story about him. My best friend ended the stories by talking about 'their love.' Her Grandma and Grandpa had been together for 70 years and when you look through the pictures, you could see they loved each other through all if it. She went on to say that while she was staying with them as his health deteriorated, she would often find them holding hands in their sleep. As you might imagine, the whole room filled with tears and the 'ceremony' was complete. We ate lunch and it was beautiful.

I was talking with my best friend's mom afterwards and she told me how her father was planning his ceremony before he died and wanted so much to be there. He called it 'his party.' She had tossed the idea around in her head of having it before he passed, but thought that would be just too weird. They did plan a 'party' for him where they ate fried chicken. He had been told it would be a pizza party. He took a bite of the chicken and said it was the best pizza he'd ever eaten. Then he asked if this was his party and they all said yes.

To me this memorial was truly beautiful. There was nothing stuffy or over planned about it. Just the real people in his life remembering him in a way that wasn't overly aggrandized or structured. No fancy church that nobody had ever really gone to. No pastor or priest telling the man's stories. Just the time and space to do what families do; eat, remember, laugh and grieve together.

Not to mention, 70 years of marriage. What's the secret, people had asked. "Humor," is what they had to say. At this point in life I can't imagine 70 years with someone, but I do now understand what kind of commitment that takes and that love can be unending and as enduring as we make it. I want that.

That's all I have to say right now.

Camo

I dreamed I had a camouflage heart. The rest of my insides were soft, fleshy and blood red. An array of wild animals were biting precariously at this flesh and when they were done, the camouflaged heart dropped to the ground. Unscathed and unseen.

Disturbing and comforting? I can't really decide...

my first obe

I fell asleep under normal circumstances, no drugs or alcohol in my system. It was a weekday, a Tuesday I believe. I 'awoke' to the loudest most atrocious buzzing sound in my ears. It sounded as though my head was actually stuck inside of a church bell at the top of a tower. My entire body was buzzing and vibrating in a way I can never fully describe. I could hear all these voices talking about things I should do with my life now that I was being 'awoken.' "She could finish learning Spanish." "She could go back to school." So on and so on.

Image from here

I was terrified and 'woke up,' but I was still in an altered state and elevated above my body. There I was staring at myself in bed. In one corner was another me, dressed in a white gown. In the room, there was a total of 3. Me as I knew myself to be, me as my body in bed and me as a "ghost" dressed in a white gown in the corner.

I didn't know what was happening, but I elevated with the utmost ease and exited my room through the window. No joke, it was exactly like the scene in Ghost where Patrick Swayze goes through the door and you see all the fibers of the door. I could see everything about the shades and the window that I went through and they can only be described as feeling thick. I hurled myself into the air and started to fly and quickly began descending. I panicked, but instinctively thought of water and the ground below morphed into a magical teal colored sea filled with beautiful creatures.

The 'ghost me' was apparently there as some sort of guide. She applauded my instincts and said "nobody can ever fly the first time, don't worry." She said let's try again. We flew around for awhile and I kept plummeting quickly to the ground. It was the most amazing, frustrating and freeing experience.

The dream turned lucid from there and I finally woke up, for real, wide eyed, terrified, stunned and everything else. I was afraid to go back to sleep...

I turned immediately to Google and the bookstore the next day to try to understand what the hell had happened to me. I was very naive at the time and had no hesitations about telling people this experience. I honestly didn't realize that it sounded crazy and/or made up to the general public. I told my older brother about it who said, and I quote, "If you didn't sound so convincing, I'd tell you that you're full of shit."

I spent an enormous amount of time that year taking naps and invoking this rarity with ample success. I got used to the buzzing vibrations and the accompanying sounds. It's more of a dull roar now and it tickles the base of your spine. I discovered new and interesting ways to induce these experiences when I felt them coming on and found out all kinds of ways that bring you immediately back to your body. For example, a single thought about your actual physical body reels you right back in.

Although these experiences have dwindled some, I still will never forget that first time. I don't take it as seriously as I used to. It's more of an escape from having to deal with physical limitations. It's amazing to be able to fly and do flips in the air or swing from tree to tree. It's also a great way to obtain guidance on life and to understand what's going on in your subconscious. A lot of times these experiences turn into lucid dreams and when I wake up, I know what's going on in my head because I created it in the dream.

So, that's what I know about out of body experiences. They are mysterious, amazing, confusing and everything in between. I'm wondering if anyone else has had one and/or a similar oddity they'd be willing to share. Anonymity, as always, is welcomed.

rootless

Sometimes I think the best way to explain astrology is just to tell your experience of it. So, here goes. I was born with the Moon in the 4th house and this is my story.

I'm perpetually rootless. With the constant and quick fluctuating cycle of the moon instead of having a solid footing on the ground, it's like treading water in a sea that has no knowable bottom. There are inner tubes all over and the only way to rest is to go under water and pull myself up into one of them. And then it runs out of air and I tread my way over to a new tube. But, it's never my tube, it's never my "home." I feel this is the reason for my heart wrenching affinity for the homeless and hobo's of all kinds. Even though I always have shelter, we share a common bond. I've spent more time with homeless people than most people would gather. In fact they seek me out, in my opinion, for this kinship. Some suggest it's because my face invites people to take advantage of me, but in truth none of them ever have.

Back to this placement, so the moon is where we are most 'at home' and the 4th house is our home. It's where we go to just be who we are and immerse into ourselves. Protected from the outside world. Now finding myself caught between inner tubes I'm tiring, anxious and flailing limbs about wasting energy because nothing is solid and nothing is known. There's a subtle unrest in these waters that can bring up all kinds of fears. Was that a weed or a shark? What's going to pull me under and when will the tempest brew?

Some people wonder why I spend the bulk of my mental energies on astrology. What is the point of explaining things you already know. I know I'm rootless, yes. But when we are able to put a spin on something and view ourselves objectively we can become more self aware and at least attempt to mitigate the fears and self undoing. In other words "Knowing is Half the Battle."

Now I'm not saying that knowing prevents stupidity or irrationality (which is the moons job). Believe me I'm not. In fact last night I blew up all over the place as the moon activated my Mars/Uranus conjunction. (Aggression + Erratic + Emotions = Making reckless decisions due to over active emotions.) But at least reflecting on it later I can take the blame and feel responsible for said stupidity and keep an eye out for the moon next time. You know maybe not have so many beers to keep it under wraps, or run really hard, or paint something. Find an outlet for madness.

Anyways, I hope this touches on this placement at least a little. To wrap it up more tightly, I can say within all this unrest, I feel the least lonely when I'm alone and I get the sense of having roots from lunar activities. Some nights I can just stare at her for hours and write poetry and sing songs in my head and it gives me a renewed sense of balance to pull myself into a new tube.

I suppose the bonus to this position is life is rarely boring. When your constantly adjusting to new surroundings (in a sense) you have no choice but to gather ample experience and tools to tuck into your pocket for that hopeful time that a shore appears. One more opportunity to gear up and experience life a new.

And that's all I have to say right now.

mystic mythic

Malaspina Glacier, Alaska from Outer Space

There's nothing mystical about mystical things. It's all just synchronicity. The tying of loose ends to create a natural whole. Everything is significant and possibilities are infinite. There is always something to discover in the large and in the small.

Maybe that's why these things are scary or strange to so many. They cannot be packaged or bought. It's more of a mindset in my opinion. It's a decision to see life as significant, as a way to understand that everything is connected, ergo, nothing is separate.

It's a fundamental desire to find a reason for everything, to make it okay and let it be part of some enormous canvas that we can't get far enough away to fully see.

Still the creation process is in motion and it's beauty is only fostered by the imagination.

Ocean Sand, Bahamas from Outer Space

So, is that a coping mechanism? To deal with the harsher realities of life? Or do these oddities truly exist? I feel that anything we want to exist does, because our mind believes it to be so. But what do I know...

That's all I have to say right now. Opinions/Experiences welcome, as always.

4 of Pentacles

Have you ever boxed yourself in? Blocked yourself from there very things you want so dearly with refusal of change? Maybe held onto some attitude or habit that allowed you to distance yourself from the future you know is on the horizon?

This is my question. There seem to be times where the entire history behind me unrolls with every breath like a Japanese scroll painting. It keeps unfolding and clinging to heels until we arrive, present. The scroll is filled with a beautiful mystery. Like I can't even imagine all those things have already happened. And in the present you look around and know there are a couple roads before you and you have to choose. Something must be left behind, but it's like your feet are stuck and you turn around in circles trying to see how you even got here.

Stagnant is the enemy of the flow. The Four of Pentacles in Tarot represents this stagnancy. Sitting on your own thrown, holding your coins, unwilling to use them for fear of loss. Sometimes these images weigh so heavily in this mind's eye there appears no fathoming a way out. And what about patterns in this graph of the past? Even though I can see the patterns so clearly, I can't help but wonder that if I chose one again that maybe it's still building towards something. Or maybe it's just building a brick wall on all sides to keep me in.

And that's all I have to say right now.

Fallow

Today I long to dress and represent morbidity. Like the zombie ghost of soldier woman in camouflage, wearing wounds, face bruised, white and painted with the word incognito. To be as such and allow this face not to smile with bulbous laughter. Let the cheeks sink to the bone and reveal nothing except the bare.

And what is this fascination with the gruesome? Is it masochism or some other fancy term for the love of the rawness in the suffer? Not really, it's the love of seeing the beauty in the dead and disgusting. Have you ever looked at a dead bird and thought how beautiful it was, at peace, at rest. All the trials and survivals of its' life lay fallow in cold eyes.

Still it is a decision to see this beauty. Just like anything else, the experience is up to the mind. In other company I confess I might just screech in disgust, and that too is a decision. Yet which is more real?

Maybe I got too much sun and I'm drawing back inward to the realness of living on this Earth. With all it's challenges and growing pains. Still, there's beauty in the heights. But it lives for the high! It lives for the consumption of enjoyment, waste and favor. Instead of the pits and shadows where you scrape your strongest roots in the dark to feed a soul that's weathered by bright light and materialism.

And this is the ramble that lived in this shell today. Sharing is always welcome...

to seethe is to bleed

Have you ever noticed how when you're really hostile about something it's almost a given that you will stub your toe or ram your shin into the corner of something, or almost get into an accident. Which only seeks to increase the RAGE.

I found myself under such conditions last night for reasons I'll keep to myself. Regardless, nearly every damned bleeping step I took found me ramming a body part into something. I smashed the inside of my ankle on the corner of the bed frame. My knee into a night table. Shut the door over my toe and got my arm skin caught on something else. Well, suffice it to say I didn't talk about it and instead found myself coughing up my own irrational frustration. In short, life was seemingly mocking me. Unfortunately, I have an innate belief that we create our own realities with our minds, so I couldn't blame anybody or The Moirae...

Awesome Drawing from here

These are those times I'm reminded that as I am within I also am out. Seething and feeling steam blowing through the holes in my teeth. The kind of seethery that makes your insides hot and you can almost feel your ribs turn red and blue like the coils of an electric stove. And it's as harmful to your physical body as it is your mental and emotional well being.

The only thing creative that came out of it were the extreme Macabre mind images and stories about the burning rib coils slow cooking my heart and liver right there in my chest cavity for my spleen to devour. If I were a painter, I would've painted this feast and been purged of the madness.

Instead I suffered fools, took a gash out of another body part after shutting off the lights and cursed my way to bed, where I couldn't get the TV remote to cooperate at which I just said F^&K IT! I'm out.

I have to say, typically I find these scenarios funny the next day, but today, I don't. Been there done that anyone?

wake up, wake up. WAKE up and look around you.

I had a dream a few years ago that I was dying. I was laying on an operating table under Frankenstein like circumstances. There were two of me. One was on the table and there was another me (which I knew was my soul) standing next to me. She was slowly disappearing from the feet upwards as she worked feverishly to try to save my physical body. I was screaming from the table, shouting for me to stop and save herself but she kept at it until only her eyes were left as visible. I leapt from the table through the confines and gave her this little vile of potion and she began to reappear (yes, sort of like in Back to the Future, only still with the Frankenstein feel.)

I bolted awake sitting upright with the images cleft in my minds eye. Much like in the movies, there was lots of heavy breathing, sighing with giant wide eyed terror. At that exact moment in time; I truly 'woke up' from a long fruitless slumber.

It was one of those dreams that was so real and such a blatant warning message it changed the course of my world forever. At the time I'd left behind all the wonder and mystery that I adore. I wasn't writing, I was reading, but not discovering. I was dreaming, but not flying. I was living, but the 'I' was missing.

Since that time I gauge my level of soul integration on the aforementioned. If I'm not writing, reading, assimilating, or growing. I'm dying and it's time to wake back up.

Out of curiosity, has anyone had a dream that was some sort of message that really got your attention. Stories welcome. As always you can choose to write anonymously on my blog; if you're of the shy sort.

Peace.

isolation and emersion

I still talk about my dog as though I'm a dog owner. As though she's still waiting for me, hogging the bed and kicking me and woofing in her sleep. And here in this bar, in my 12th house element I think of how all of my favorite things belong there. In the 12th, where things disintegrate and evaporate back into the whole.

The experience of writing where you are immersed in the world of every thought but still isolated and indolent. Or dreaming where we swim in the most surreal surroundings and wake transformed. One might think these activities a waste of time, but their value is immeasurable to me. This is where I live. In this sector of isolation where I'm one with all but separate.

Where empathy and intrigue meet is where you will find me.

Penance

I remember going to confession when I was a young 'aspiring' Catholic attending Catholic school and exactly what it was like. We had to go during school. We'd sit one chair apart from each other in the Chapel and wait our turn. When it was your turn, you always hoped you got the nicer priest. He had this way with people and was genuinely kind and wholeheartedly believed in what he was doing. We'd walk humbly through the door, sit behind the screen (if you were feeling particularly sinful) or just face the priest who was half asleep in his chair.

Sitting there spelling out all the sins you'd committed over the last week or so. Well, let's see. I lied about where I was going with my friend. I told mom X and Y, but I left out Z. I did bad on a test. Pretty pungent stuff at age 10!!

Afterwards you're given a penance. Say N number of Hail Mary's (squared) and you'd walk back to your place in the Chapel and say your penance.

This concept is now foreign to me. Particularly the penance part. Being a heavy believer in karma, it seems to me being given a penance is one of the following:

• An attempted preemptive strike at dodging the natural process of karma
• A mechanism to ensure punishment 
• A form of double punishment

Either way it's punishment. Which you would think works against the religion itself. Punishment means saying extra prayers. (oh come on, that's a little funny) Regardless, in no way are you taught about learning something from mistakes besides avoiding being punished. It's kind of like that statement in Office Space:

"That's my only real motivation is not to be hassled, that and the fear of losing my job. But you know, Bob, that will only make someone work just hard enough not to get fired."

This is not meant to be offensive to the Catholic religion or any religion for that matter. As previously stated, I am a firm believer in karma. But not in the sense of punishment. More in the sense of knowing myself and my actions so well that I recognize when something is happening to me that I've done to someone else before and realizing what it's like. It doesn't necessarily have to be a bad deed either.

I recall this odd instance when I was in my early 20's. I had my car broken into and the thieves tossed my purse into a ditch. A biker spotted it, picked it up and returned it to me. I have it written down somewhere, but I can't remember his name. Anyways, about 2 weeks later, I was walking on a trail through the woods and found a wallet. It belonged to someone with a name nearly identical to the person who returned my purse. It was one letter off. Well, of course I called the person and promptly brought it back.

I should probably get to a point, but I don't really have one. I'm more curious to know if anyone has a karma story or ideas about the whole penance thing. Discussions welcome...

enjoyment

There lives a dichotomy somewhere in this brain that produces a tiresome tension between desires. The desire to enjoy the Venusian side of life. Good food, arts, entertainment, socializing, music, etc. and the desire to create something of long standing value. It's like clockwork. Whenever I go off the deep end and run around living it up, this other side crops up and shakes a fist in the air beckoning me to use energy in less frivolous ways. To hunker down and manifest some lost vision into something tangible. Something to be given away.

As I'm fighting this urge through summertime, something occurred to me that has never occurred before. At least not in a way that snapped these items together. In the enjoyment is the creation of memories and that is definitely not nothing. Which lead me to thinking about the fact that one day, I will be very old. The people I know and love will also be very old. And when we're incapable of driving ourselves places and getting around with ease we still have the memories. Stories to tell grand kids and boast about with neighbors. And damn it if I don't want to have a whole slew of amazing mind movies to recall and, with any luck, feel my life was worthwhile.

Although this concept is so very simple, it managed to evade me all these years, caught somewhere between the opposing forces. It doesn't change the energy that strives to build something that really screams out what I live to say. One of these days it will come out with just the right skill and it'll be time to move onto the next wave. Whatever that may lead.

That's all I have to say right now.

Will

This interest neither ebbs nor flows
    Deposit a dime here a nickel there


  'Will' they ever collect into the same place
      in the same time
         to render a full bill 


             Some say only time 'will' tell
                or 'will' it kill
                   and destroy the 'will'

multiples with scruples

I had a rare conversation with someone yesterday. An older gentleman with a roaring sense of humor. There was a light buzz all around him and a keen energetic eye that definitely caught my affection.  Although I don't know this gentleman, he reminded me about a lot of 'stuff.'

He was describing with authority his 5 personalities and his new 6th personality which would lead him back to the real him. He said as the middle child he developed personality number 2 as a mechanism to stand out. What did that mean?

Be funny.
Tell stories.
Exaggerate.

Props for the pic

Now out of his more formative years he's testing out his quiet, serious (real) self on a new set of neighbors. Things were going really well until he invited them to a party where his old friends would be attending and know and treat him as personality 2. Funny, story telling guy.

Well, his wife asked him why he would do such a thing if he wanted to continue this new thread. He said he had no idea. Now they'd be rousing him from his quietude and hassling him about his exaggerated stories, thus blowing his 'cover.'

While the content of his story was fascinating and was told with an air of affluence that hinted that he was kidding, I still got that sense that he really wasn't. Kidding, that is. Afterwards, I debriefed with a friend who knows him far better than I who tried to convince me that he was teasing. "He's a born salesman!" he said. But still, I'm not buying it. I know what I heard behind the face that told it, or maybe I do...

Fine.

Well, what I do know, I can say from experience. I am NOT a middle child, but I did develop a certain personality to get me through the less versatile parts of life. At heart I am extremely serious about this whole life business. If you can't tell by my blog it's ALWAYS on my mind. What am I doing here, how am I growing, am I contributing to life in meaningful ways. Not to say that these things aren't fun, because they are! But on the same tack it's extremely important to me to feel that life has meaning, even if it's just by way of attributing meaning to it, whether it's "real" or "imagined."

Still there's always the wonder and there's usually the folk who prefer the funny, dramatic persona from me. I give it away because it shines back and my ego will gladly bask in it. But it lacks that real sense of depth you get from friends who know the darker shadowy self that wonders and notices the slightest measures of 'coincidence' and 'reflection' of life.

To complicate things further, the funny drama queen. She is real. And is an integral part of self, but somehow these two don't always get a long. She's always making light of the serious stories I'm telling or validating herself by others reactions to them.

Whatever.

I guess I know nothing other than they operate on such different planes it seems impossible to neutralize their discrepancies. And this older gentleman, maybe he's really onto something by testing it out on new people to be able to more 'organically' reveal his other side.

And that's all I have to say right now. I'm all ears...

something that mystic said

The mystic philosopher Georges I. Gurdjieff once suggested that the most important thing anyone ever needed to know for 'enlightenment' was that they are going to die; all wisdom would follow. In the face of our personal discontinuity, doesn't life's little consistencies begin to make more sense? For example, those 'flaws' and shortcomings of our character that never seem to change or go away. These same ones seem to refuse being cured, healed or 'improved.'

Gurdjieff called this tawdry set of consistencies our 'chief feature,' something we are identified by no matter how many changes we undergo in life. As change is accepted as a constant, it becomes evident that if there is to be anything of lasting value in our lives, we must be willing to make an investment of our time and resources to start building and sustaining and preserving it ourselves. Such are the ways the deeper outside shocks of death, loss and change can be polarized and handled with strength and will.

This whole idea of 'enlightenment' however is quite a quandry. I tend towards curiosity on the way this term is is defined by a variety of individuals. I will say, to me, 'enlightenment' is not overrated, it's misconstrued. It's more of a continuous process of improving the self by way of self knowledge and developing greater empathy for man(or woman)kind by a deeper set of knowing that insists we are all going through the same shit one way or another.

And that's all I have to say right now.

look at how green that grass is

That's what they say isn't it? The grass is always greener on the other side? Well, what if it actually was? This is my question and discovery at this exact moment in time.

I was thinking about my life as of late and headed straight into the North and South Nodes of the Moon in a natal astrology chart. The Nodes have considerable weight when reading a chart. They are said to imply the skills and areas of life where one has a unique calling and/or where one is 'going' (indicated by the North Node) and the knowledge and talents which are innate to us and we bring along the journey (South Node.) In a way it's like having a tool box and knowing how to use some and learning to use the rest.

Image Props to this site

The catch 22 of the nodes is similar to the green grass conundrum. The Nodes are always in opposition to one another. While they are capable of blending and truly aiding one another, the energies are very different and we are automatically predisposed to the comfort of the South Node. But, that which is comfortable and comes easy isn't always best if we want a real sense of satisfaction and accomplishment in life.

When it comes to the nodes we often come face to face with something that we are immensely attracted to, something we feel we really need to do or follow (North Node); and we might head down that path of greener pastures with a vengeance only to gaze backward when the going gets tough and long for the ease and good feeling of the green grass we left behind.

It's sort of a teeter tottering effect and varies greatly from person to person. Some will find it easy to integrate these polarized energies into a unified and satisfying approach to life on Earth and others may do the dance of one step forward and two steps back.

I suppose what I'm saying is, if you find areas of your life where you run toward something and fall back on something else, these are your nodes at work. That green grass you were running towards and got scared of may actually contain the very thing you are searching for. But like anything else, sometimes it's just the lesson we need at the time to grow roots into that truth; which comes at a price and sometimes that price is what was left behind.

Okay! I'm rambling...I'm a little sleepy today and will continue this with a more personal approach, but in the meantime.

What context the nodes have for an individual can really only be gleaned by looking at an entire birth chart. Where it falls in relation to the hemispheres, which signs and houses it occupies and how it's meshing with other planets will really drill down the specifics. If you are interested in a node reading, feel free to contact me at oddnumberedlife@gmail.com.

the opposite of incongruous at night

There's something comforting about the world going to sleep. Almost as though the pressure of the deux is released and emergence into the all is at foot. One step into a sudden re-entrance into the vastness of life and one is absorbed back into it instead of being sucked into the here and now with the immediate surroundings.

There exists no space or time, just immeasurable places in which to dunk and douse without the trappings of the material world. This need not exist only in the night, at times too; the beauty of dawn, before all rise, when the dew on the grass is you and the sun rising is a luminous reminder of existence as a whole versus the separateness of everyday living.

Fight of Selves

Her hand bites her other hand as she wrestles to sleep
With claws of steal they taught and writhe on each other
The cause of two, a set of incompatible unspoken quandary
Bleeding ears hear not the ringing sound of what she knows.

Like the teething process of a young child
The lost bewilderment in growth breaks the skin
She's left in pain without understanding or Novocaine.

The sheets are stripped from her sides
For once more naked than the day of birth
Waiting on the comfort of some other mother's nook.

There's no reason between the fight of selves
'Til at last there's nothing left but the flight of the beast
Unleashed.

sea through

A most translucent fish is best left to its natural environment, where it glows in the colors of all it touches. You are this translucent fish. I see your reflection in each part and its a mysteriously beautiful and seeming impossible elusive.

A translucent fish isn't meant to be caught. Better left to the waters to flow, fly, drift and speed along the currents. I would no more want to capture a turning leaf and watch it fade and crumble in hours inside my palm.

I may not be as free as these fish, but maybe some form of translucency befits. Best left to glow in colors all my own and bring them to the gray and drab unfounded depths of the ocean. And all that to say, the feelings I have are as deep as these colors, but the bones are absent - there's no form or obligation. Toggled between illusions and spears, there's always risk of further vulnerability in these murky waters of the mind, forever more no less.

ramblings of a driftwood nature

I sat on a beach with a bonfire in front of me and felt the smoothness of a piece of driftwood between my thumb and forefinger. It was far from rigid and more a depiction of life and winding paths. Maybe drifters become softer on the edges with time. Floating along the waters and piling up on shore where fate determines if you'll be burned at the hands or not.

Sitting on a dock with the winds wafting through my hair, waiting for the fates or self to decide, can't help but think maybe all this molding has taken a shape but was repeatedly beaten down by the hands of some shore land that snatched me up from a float. Grabbed a hold and decided what I was, like a cloud formation or an ink blot. You look like this, they said and threw me into the fire.

And maybe driftwood can't determine it's own fate, just be one with the waters and allow the flow into what's next and become smoother with time and experience...

Waning Crescent

I feel the moon phase in it's entirety today as it wanes. The time ripe for review of recent events and digesting of experience. If you're a lunar child, like me, maybe you'll understand this, but sometimes I swear an entire life cycle existed in one full lunar cycle. The gamut of peaks and valleys underwent and when it's done, I get to start all over again.

Pic Props from here

That being said, here's my ramble for the evening...

I think age and experience is the only thing that finally gets you to round the bend and watch yourself sabotage your conscious efforts. And at that moment you know you have a choice. There is no one to blame or congratulate but you and whatever you choose, it's all yours.

I've watched my unconscious desires and habits destroy really great things I had in front of me and for whatever reason, in this odd numbered 7 year, they are no longer foggy or easily put away in the drawer under a stash of mismatched socks. It's more like walking around with a black light exposing everything disgusting. Only it's not really that gross, it's just the truth.

But sometimes I still trick myself into believing my unconscious is saving me from doing what is not in my best interest. It's clever, manipulative and willful as a screaming child.

That's really all I have to say right now. What say you?

indomitable.

I'm stuck on Scorpio right now. What can I say, I'm basically a Pisces, but cross me more than once you'll feel my Mars in Scorpio and Mercury/Pluto conjunction without a word spoken.

Mars in Scorpio. I've touched on Venus in Scorpio. But Mars is a different energy. If I didn't have Venus in Leo, I probably wouldn't reveal this! That being said, here's a short synopses of what I know.

Mars is the planet of action, it's what we desire, it's how we approach things requiring action. It's the way we fight, the way we sport, exercise and basically go out and get whatever the hell we want. To have Mars in Scorpio is to plot and plan. The action takes place prior to the actual act in the realms of the underground. At night, there's a brooding, seething lusty person drawing up the architecture for attack. As a result, those with Mars in Scorpio usually get what they want. They've thought out all the possibilities and weaknesses of any said opponents, real or imagined. They study and notice everything to near paranoia. To be caught off guard is their detriment, for their eyes and instincts are keen and rarely miss your skipped heart beat.

The curious thing about these folks is you'd never know it. (unless you have strong Scorpio placements, you'll sense it) The exterior can be beyond cool. They'll hold tight until the moment is ready to strike and when they do, look out because the will is indomitable. The energy behind it has been culminating for months and is a volcanic eruption.

I know from experience that when I go to the gym, leave me the hell alone. People actually get out of my way and men watch me awestruck because when I work out it is 100% focus. Headphones, nope, they'll just be bothersome. TV, nope, I'm busy staring down the miles or counting reps. Plyometrics, I wouldn't stand too near because I jump as fast as I can lest you be hit with beads of furious sweat fleeing from our ponytails. Indomitable. Formidable. Inexcusable. That's Mars in Scorpio. We can play a pretty sweet game if we must, but we'd prefer to be wrapped in blackened silk feeling our way through the depths. There's nothing more heinous than falsehood, but we'll plaster on a fake one just to let you know its fake if absolutely effing necessary.

I forgot, so far to mention that Mars in Scorpio is forever champion of the underdog. If you've truly been wronged, these people will not hesitate to stand up for you or your others. They know deeply the pain and suffering of Earthly living and will go to great lengths to avenge wrong doings. They are aware of the cycles of karma and will watch you take yourself down if they feel you so deserve it. To this sign, it's no more ruthless than life itself.

On another tack, Mars is also energized through the activities of its sign. Mars in Scorpio feeds off the death and rebirth. They make great surgeons and EMT's because immediate focused action is what they are built for. Along with blow ups with loved ones, these things only feed us and bring us closer to what we want. Extreme closeness with what's real. When we kill one of our long term habits, it's exactly that, a full blown death. None of the stages are exempt and we'll rise a different entity post completion. To give you an idea of contrast, Mars in Gemini, for example, is energized through conversation. Through meeting of the minds and an enormous need for variety. They have a really hard time focusing on one thing at a time. Mars in Scorpio focuses intently on one thing at a time. Mars in Cancer? Yep, family is hugely important and you might find these folks with guns under their beds ready to fight to the death to keep the hearth safe from intrusion. (Note Mars, Venus or Moon in the 4th - Cancer's house, might also do this)

What's my point. I don't really have one. Just sharing what I know is true as writers do. Mars is actually exalted in Scorpio and I'm grateful to have been born to this placement. Although it's one of those double edgers, riding extremes, it also makes us capable of withstanding the most horrific circumstances or cutting them off at will and turning that dark stare to more meaningful pastures. I've said it before, I'll say it again; Scorpio gets a bad rep. What strong placements here want is the deepest, truest, realest part of everything. Like butter over margarine. See it for what it is, fat content has no importance.

As always, contact me if you want me to look at your chart. It's been in my blood for nearly 12 years and I love musing on the psychology of it all.

it's all you

One of the most important things we learn as we age is that we need only answer to ourselves. If we can do that, with head and heart in tact, we've accomplished something and we're on the right track.


That's all I have to say right now.

where's my pinch hitter

Astrology, one of my long term love affairs of the mind gets a bad rep. And rightly so in many cases. But for me, I see the birth chart and all its' planets as a baseball team. Different energies all working together for the same purpose. Let's break it down shall we?

We've got the outfielders, Pluto, Uranus and Neptune. Neptune's out in right field counting dandelions, whistling and daydreaming about catching that fly ball against the wall. Uranus is at center field smitten by all the action and moving in swift irregular patterns. Pluto's ducking out in left field, feigning incognito, but checking the batters stance, ready, willing to defend and make that play at home or smell a foul on it's way out.

The Sun is pitching. Center of attention, making things happen. The Moon is catching (receiving) what the Sun doles out and offering support on those rough days.

Saturn's on first with grave responsibility. Worrying. Waiting. Ready. Jupiter's boundless enthusiasm and energy is ready at shortstop, fielding whatever comes it's way. Benevolent and generous in aiding Venus and Mars respectively on 2nd and third. And Mercury is coaching. Planning, organizing, structuring, making decisions.

Because we don't need our players looking like this.
Props go to this site for the image.

All this to say, when we know where are weakest players are, what they're up to and trust them at their positions anyhow, that's the function of natal chart astrology. More a matter of awareness in keeping our various energies happy and bolstering their natural strengths by positioning them accordingly.

I realize this is a cheesy demonstration, but I hope the metaphor at least sheds some light on the true purpose of my longest hobby love. Discuss, you know, or don't. You can also contact me if you want me to look at your chart. I love doing it.

As the title eludes, where's my pinch hitter? Good question, I'd probably give it over to Chiron, but we'll leave that for a separate day.

momentum

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some place essential

  the mind  

it chooses

to swing that pendulum

of momentum

towards something

towards life

side to side

front to back

around and around

or it doesn't

believing it has no choice

yet the pendulum

is there

ready

steady

waiting for

you to swing 

so it may be swung

and life begun

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

more than lucky

Some days I can't believe how lucky I am. Just looking around at all the wonderful people who've walked the same path with me for a time, helping each other, relating, loving and living through the rough and tumble is amazing. I hear stories from other people about their past messed up relationships and the things that people did to them and it makes me so grateful to have been so lucky. I've been loved more times than I can count in ways that were so very unconditional and I just wish this for the rest of the world too.

I don't have much else to say today. Just reflecting, after a weekend in Two Harbors attending a very beautiful wedding with two very amazing people. When they look into each others eyes you can tell, there's love and it's so very life affirming. I'll never be a cynic about love, it's too beautiful.

hush little baby

I imagine she was a rather quiet baby
kind of baby that never howled or yelled
even in this infant state, survival dependent on silence.

Patient, on hold, paralyzed
holy wailing on the inside
a dirty rashed tushy
where a dimpled bum should've been.

Serene, too pleasant gaze
no cooing and joyful flailing
where vivid affectation could glean.

Not this baby
It lies
waiting
until it hears no more discord.

the burn of mothers reluctant, teary eyed heart finally available
but still taking
needing
the warm little body to comfort her.

And it's sad
because the mother's mothers tears stain the trail of a future
with generations of fears heard by babes
not mothers.

Noose getting loose

There were all these hatchets, hatchets buried years ago. It turns out I jut hid them, sat on them like a hen on eggs, waiting, waiting as they grew. They multiplied and divided to produce little mini-hatchets and the shovel I held wouldn't do the digging for me.

I thought just now about letting this last hatchet go, is it even worth it? Without shared sense of validation, no give and take. What would be the point? To burn up a few more karmic dollars? How many more do I have to spare.

In the now, how great it is to be freed. But the noose gets looser all the time, but you'll pull a cord and I'll grasp the rope around my neck to keep the strangle at bay.