The Blues are Gone

Today was a really good day. SW_AundreLarrow

I saw a bobcat in the backyard. While I was making coffee.

I went to my ecstatic dance class, got to move and play and connect with some good people and myself and hear some good music. Which got me thinking about this post.

Today was a good day, and, I’ve got some health stuff going on.

I’ve got some big decisions to make.

I’m not exactly being the impeccable person I think I am,  or want to be, in all my relationships.

But today was a good day.

The blues were gone.

There was a song in the set list this morning—I7-dustin-scarpitti don’t know it and I’ve just spent 15 minutes trying to find it, in vain—but it was about the blues being gone, asking if the mountain is lonely with the clouds all around, or those flowers fearful of their future in the dry riverbed, cause they got each other through the dark night . . . maybe you had to be there but it was the perfect kind of tune to celebrate Saturn moving into Sagittarius (ingress Dec. 23 2014) after the long dark haul through Scorpio (there was a rather Scorpionic song in the list too, with ONE lyric: reality . . . baby, we’re ALL gonna die). Uh, yeah. Exactly. But we laughed.

And kept dancing.

So this is the thing: Every day can be a good day—in some form, in some way. We’re mostly always going to have hard stuff going on. Stuff we have to take care of, be mindful of, solve, sort, and look through.

Saturn loves it when we are responsible, and go to the dentist and get a pap smear and change the oil in the car and pay our parking tickets. Saturn is tickled when we read a self-help book and then actually use it. Saturn holds space for the hard conversations, the accountable exit from impossible situations, the true I’m sorry, the doing of anything needful but possibly tedious.

When we are responsible, and attend to our inner health, creating a structure for our well-being, Saturn gets a rosy glow on his face. We listened to him, to the things he was showing us, and got a hammer and a nail, so to speak. We built a good house for our soul to live in.

landscape fantasyWe’ve had a long haul in the underworld, and Saturn is happy if we’ve kept a file, and made some journal entries, and organized the chaos of the inner work. Because if we’ve been at all diligent, now, we get to play. We can see the horizon. We get to realize the mountain isn’t lonely, and that it doesn’t matter when it rains again cause we got each other in the dark of the night. We’ve got our Self, when it comes to it, and now the sun is shining and the Sagittarius optimism and wanderlust have us ready to dance.

To take a bigger journey than we think we can.

Yeah, we’re all going to die.

There’s a bobcat in the back yard.

I’m not perfect, and I’m often confused.

I felt joy deep enough this morning to milk tears from my eyes.

I can see a vision for the future that inspires me.

The blues are gone. And we’re going to keep on walking forward.

Tell Saturn your vision for the next 2 1/2 years. Let him tell you what needs some attention in your life. Do the work. And watch the vision unfold with his trustworthy blessings.

IMG_0629my best,


What inside you wants to be free?

John Dee's modified glyph from the Monas Heiroglyphica
John Dee’s modified glyph of Mercury from the Monas Heiroglyphica

I have to say I was surprised to see a small article on Mercury’s retrograde in the issue before last of the New York Times Sunday magazine. How high in journalistic esteem has the planet of communication (appropriately) risen! It was an interesting article which explored the power of the collective consciousness around the typical Mercury retro themes, but one fact in particular stood out for me: that more people “kind of” believe that astrology is “sort of” a science than believe fossil fuels contribute to global warming/climate change.

Huh? Interesting . . . isn’t it? The power of popular culture. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad there’s this kind of belief in the impact the cosmos has in our dance here on planet Earth, but I was somehow shocked at this statistic. Actually, it seems to me that when I converse with people many folks sorta do buy into in the power of Mercury’s retro, but they don’t actually believe in the efficacy of working with astrology proper to further their self-development. Kinda like many of us would never throw a bottle in the trash anymore, but not think twice about driving our gas-guzzling SUV.

But I digress.

Or do I? Aquarius is on my mind, being that Mercury will go retro in this sign (17 degrees) on the 21st (until Feb 1, 1 degree) and that the New Moon is just barely into the freedom loving, forward thinking water bearer tomorrow on the 20th.

beyondAquarius is all about progress, finding the new, better way to serve the tribe or collective. It’s about our dreams for a better life, resolving and moving past old traumas. It’s about inspiration rising up from the individual unconscious–courtesy of Uranus, ruler of Aquarius.

Mercury and Uranus are related, as they represent the higher and lower (or hidden, subconscious) mind of the individual. They are active, restless, electric. As the Sun begins its journey through Aquarius, Mercury’s retro will give us the opportunity to ask ourselves, where and how do I want to be more free? Where and how can I imagine society being more free? How can my thoughts, words, and ideas contribute to a better micro and macrocosm?

I believe it is true that we have to work on our inner before we contribute meaningfully to the outer. Many people don’t want to do this. They become lost in a world juddered by endless technology and unceasing distraction–shadow aspects of Mercury and Uranus and Aquarius. Without being willing to look at our collective and individual traumas, the energy of these planets becomes just so much more electric noise.

gliderThe New Moon, as we know, is a time to start afresh, especially in the themes of the sign it occurs in. The Moon in Aquarius is objective, less emotional, more rational and able and willing to see and hear the wider view. Willing to listen to what others have to say. It’s a good time now to look objectively at what is holding you back, and how you might create a little more freedom inside of yourself, a little less fear. Less fear=more room for inspiration. (Also a gift of Mercury retrograde.)

And then, carry that freedom, objectivity, and inspiration out into your community.

I’ll be exploring this same inquiry. Let me know how yours goes.





[kuh-mit-muh nt]

lake leapCommitment.

I like’s definition #5: engagement; involvement.

Last year I took a bit of a spin on it, at least as far as this blog was concerned: a commitment to non-commitment. Yeah, I was having trouble understanding what I could do to help the world. What relevance astrology and intuitive guidance had for people starving in India, the victims of Ebola, those persecuted by cruel regimes anywhere.

Of course I still saw clients, because I love the work I do. And I watched them receive what I had to give, and do what they were able to do with their new information, or rebalanced chakras, or past-life resolution.

But to growing a greater presence, or a further claiming of my gifts for myself, let alone sharing them, I was non-commital. Kinda not engaged.

Why should I? my cynical parts reasoned. Everyone just wants a magic bullet and something for nothing. Or, How do I make personal growth relevant in a world of people just trying to survive?

(You see I had committed to being less of an ostrich via BBC world service podcasts and the NY Times. So I knew people were suffering. There are pros and cons to being “informed,” but that’s a different topic.)

But I noticed within myself, that my emotional roller-coaster of the past year kept pushing me onward to find solutions, reasons, expressions for my feelings. Understanding of the choices I was making. Chipping away at the “why am I here?” Trying to find more freedom within my psyche. In a word, growth.

And I noticed other people, a few anyway, doing the same.

So maybe I’m here to help who I can, how I can.

I’d like to help you, if you need something.

Do you wonder why you are here? Or why life is so tumultuous for you right now? Or how you can help yourself move forward in a particular area? Or how, even, you can find inner peace amongst the outer chaos, or more joy?

Are you a novice to self-exploration, just beginning to ask these questions?

Or are you a personal growth junkie (like me!) who’s hit a wall, a personal groundhog day, and needs someone who speaks your language to walk along with you for the next little way?

After a hiatus of a year, really, of writing about astrology and personal growth, I’m ready to step forward again and share what I have learned and am currently exploring. (I’m particularly excited about a couple of new tools–but I’ll let you know more when I’m deeper into the experiment).

This is my “I’m still here, how/where are you?” post. If you have a hankering to tap into the astro energies of the week, move along to my updated Star Talk page.

If you want to check-in, let me know what you’re doing, please do. I’d love to hear from you.

Meanwhile, I’ll leave you with this, a poem by Naomi Shahib Nye, from her book Words Under the Words:

The Whole Self

“You put your whole self in
You put your whole self out
Whole self in and you shake it all about” (the Hokey Pokey)

When I think of the long history of the self
on its journey to becoming the whole self, I get tired.
It was the kind of trip you keep making,

Over and over again, the bag you pack and repack so often
the shirts start folding themselves the minute

you take them off.

I kept detailed notes in a brown notebook. I could tell you
when the arm joined, when it fell off again,
when the heart found the intended socket and settled down to pumping.

I could make a map of lost organs, the scrambled liver,
the misplaced brain. Finally finally we met up with one another
on a street corner, in October, during the noon rush.

I could tell you what I was wearing. How suddenly
the face of the harried waitress made sense. I gave my order
in a new voice. Spoke the word vegetables like a precious code.

Had one relapse at a cowboy dance in Bandera, Texas,
under a sky so fat the full moon
was sitting right on top of us.

Give me back my villages, I moaned,
the ability to touch and remove the hand
without losing anything.

Take me off this mountain where six counties are visible at once.
I want to remember what it felt like, loving by inches.
You put in the whole self–I’ll keep with the toe.

But no, it was like telling the eye not to blink.
The self held on to its perimeters, committed forever,
as if the reunion could not be reversed.

I jumped inside the ring, all of me. Dance, then, and I danced,
till the room blurred like water, like blood, dance,
and I was leaning headlong into the universe

Dance! The whole self was a current, a fragile cargo,
a raft someone was paddling through the jungle,
and I was there, waving, and I would be there at the other end.

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