For anyone as Persephone as me.
SINCE PLUTO IS IN THE SPOTLIGHT, THIS ECLIPSE… that’d be, July 13, 2018, here are the 3 degrees of interest: the KARMIC degree (20); the ECLIPSE degree (21); and the QUEST degree (22).
Below, will be the Cancer SUN/MOON Eclipse Degree.
(from Elias Lonsdale’s “Inside Degrees”)
But before we begin, I’d just like to say I once Loved a guy with this degree; and it couldn’t be more accurate:
Many different perfumes carried by a breeze.
We bear within us many past lives, each one complete, autonomous, and emitting its own subtle, special fragrance. There are points along the journey when we must stand together with the whole line-up of our previous selves and follow out the journey they were all leading to. This is a formidable task. There is a lot to live up to. It grants you authority and conviction and it makes it very hard to get started. In order to get anywhere you must at times deny the awareness that everybody is there, and do whatever you can do, apparently on your own. But truly the depth of experience, the substantive inward development and the power of your inner drive give it away–you are destiny-charged in a larger-than-life fashion. Being self-possessed is your watchword. There is so much to accomplish. And at the center of the journey lies self-knowledge and the overriding determination to clear the karmic slate, to free up what has been trapped and bound and to come to yourself afresh. This destiny-will is guided, cosmically supported, centrally relevant to your whole world, and you will do it. Turn the darkest of hours into the brightest breakthroughs by refusing to stop anywhere or to back down from your resolve to wake up this time and get on with the greater path, at long last.
… and wake-up, he did not, in the time that I knew him. He chased different women like wisps of perfume… confused by the rainbow his Soul Journey was asking him to integrate. He stopped here, and there, delaying his Reunion – running from it, even, to keep The Drama of Samsara alive. Like other men I’ve known, he just wanted to play with new toys.
I hope he makes it. His degree says he will.
He was grieving when I met him – but his Aries South Node didn’t know we all were.
They never seem to think about the ways in which others might need them.
I transform my sorrows and losses into lessons and guiding lights for the way; the one that leads us all home, to unity consciousness.
I will tell you, that we had the kind of synchronicity that makes you both feel like the universe is on your side; it wants you to win.
One time, I was looking for a new movie to watch, and he had updated online, that he HIGHLY recommended iOrigins.
I watched it, and I smiled… that entire plot is summed up by this exact degree; no wonder it spoke to him.
With Pluto dancing on his Sun, he might be on his way home, soon…
A stately old house in a ruined condition.
Karmic entanglement in patterns, syndromes, and worlds which have no future. Dwelling in worlds apart and worlds gone by. Intent upon salvaging the essence-spark of what was once there and claims your allegiance still. You are heavily drawn back in a virtual stupor or enchantment of following out a script, fulfilling a fate. Every line written ahead of time. Starchy and formal. Haunted, intrigued, bound up within what would seem to be no longer happening. Yet inwardly brooding all-pervasively upon the reverberations and echoes of what went wrong, of what was lost, of the severances and the tragedies. Doomed to stay in the lost places until Divine Spirit intervenes. Self-sentenced to limbo, half glad of it and half miserable and full of longings.
A bare altar covered with black velvet.
Death is a force that brings into Earth something from beyond and this something is the X factor in the human equation. Your own previous deaths as major sign-posts which hold you to your noblest and most surrendered ways of being. Mortality has spoken; immortality arises from the ashes. A threshold awareness that hugs the edge between the worlds and bows before a God who presides over the living and the dead. You stride across worlds, in tune with myriad frequencies, and are quite able to make way for the unknown, the infinite, the other side of life. A fiercely-held intention to bow before what truly is and fall for nothing less, no matter how attractive or appealing.
SUN/MOON ECLIPSE DEGREE:
High up on a mountain an eagle’s nest.
Heritage and birthright, the soul’s inheritance. Being granted a belongingness, an attunement to rarified worlds. Consciousness triumphant. Maintaining the Crown vista of universal essentials, you are imbued with natural wonders and treasures. Wakeful, vigilant, and clear. You have superlative faculties of sifting through and finding what we all need to see here. Remarkably untouched by personal limitations and distortions. Called upon to uphold the truth and knowing it. Serene, focused, and unsentimental. Diving right to the place where the goods are. Impeccable skills used under constraint. The finest accompanies each breath. The mark of previous karmic attainments of the highest kind. Resuming where you left off, steady, self-assured, and righteous in the best sense. Beyond reproach.
And lastly, here is the perfect movie for this eclipse:
I just wrote spontaneous short story, titled:
A Winter With Tom Waits
Due to technical complications, I am unable to share it at this time…
It’s about letting go.
And I’m unsure how much of that I want to share; you know, in great detail.
I mean, how relevant is any of it to you?
Are you letting go of the same things that I am?
Do we even know how to slough off the old self?
I am losing more than just myself.
Ok, Here it is. And I did hold back…
A WINTER WITH TOM WAITS
That’s what it’s all about.
I finally found a cave for the winter; I bought a brown-bear-brown mat for my feet to step onto first thing in the morning – they’re shaped like a pair of Bigfoot’s feet; the feet are fawn.
(- pretending to write, pre-internet craze, I avoided using an emoji to indicate a smile… then I thought: “What if I’ve been reading everything wrong, forever…?”
What if I have been reading everything with no smile on the end, where one was intended; forcing every full-stop to a serious end.
For “fawn” makes me smile… but how would you know that?
Speaking of you; have we ever read, with the author assuming we were there? You know, pre-internet – or have we always just been voyeurs?
– suddenly, I’m Carrie Bradshaw; with a never-ending stream of more questions than answers.
So, where was I? O, that’s right; It’s winter, and I’m in my cave.
The walls are a grounding shade of “mushroom” – I despise those shady characters, but I am actually referring to a Revlon shade of eye-shadow that I stole (or felt entitled to) from my mother. Or maybe she gave it to me…? The lines of family are blurry, in that way.
This earthy shade is in the brown family – but it’s not heavy; it hides a secret hue of Lavender, somewhere deep inside… invisible. Enchanted.
I daydream an Art Deco ceiling-rose around the mini-chandelier when I’m lying down, reading the roof.
Before I got back, He put up some heavy curtains. They’re forest-green; they remind me of the woods, of pine trees, of oxygen. Life.
This cave feels enchanted – a string of flower fairy-lights frame one wall; I keep them on forever. Company.
Speaking of enchantment, I’ve seen The Unicorn.
I’m not sure I know what it means, exactly, but it’s an initiation. That I know.
The Unicorn and The Lover came at the same time. A transmission; awakening; activation.
I sent him a short story about that activation; about his, “touching the centre of a sphere”…
The Unicorn brings me New Spirit Medicine, and it joins the ranks of my Spider, Whale, Elephant, and Peacock & Flamingo ~ what a magical team.
I’ve been Houseless for three years, now.
That’s a term I read on the internet, and it makes SO much more sense.
Homelessness is, like, not the thing.
I am Home.
But a House, I have not.
It’s a bigger thing; it’s like, a reflection of the state of Global Slavery. Of the aftermath of genocide. Crazy.
I’m a Temple Priestess -and we know what happened to them.
This cave could have been beautiful… it could have been the place of my letting go.
It could have been the place where I finally have all of my belongings and myself and my bed under the one roof, and I can look through these reflections of who I was, and through letting go, discover who I am, now.
Because since fading, one thing I’ve learned is that the outer charade matters; you know, “If you don’t have a character, you can’t be in the movie!”. It’s supposed to be fun.
(not smiling, here.)
Because I have a lot to let go of… I used to believe in Home. In matching crockery, blankets for everyone, and the warmth that only a “Home” can provide.
Wall Art, for gods sake.
Being Houseless is like an endless winter… and what do we crave in winter…?
He reminds me of Christmas. Which is strange, because where I live, Christmas is in Summer.
But Tom reminds me of a Winter Wonderland – it must be his voice. Obviously – singer – but it feels connected to his Heart… and isn’t that where “Home” is?
– ugh, Carrie.
If I was listening to the radio, they’d be talking about talking-about World War III.
What is the romance of war? That tragedy finally brings people together?
That it takes death to really Love?
Does Life become complacent?
I’m ambiguous about it, really… something’s gotta give.
It is only the Global Slavery System that seeks to orchestrate a war; people don’t really want it. People, generally, are sweet…
(I smile, fondly)
I have a lot of letting go to do if I want to get to where I want to be; to who I want to be.
“Hold On, Baby gotta hold on. Take my hand.
I’m standing right here, you gotta hold on.”
(I am neither smiling nor not-smiling.)
– see how he waits?!
So what is it that I am skirting around?
What is it that I am having difficulty articulating?
Am I ready to get naked?
Inventory: in case you’ve had to “let go” sometime, too…
Here is a list of things that I am letting go of, or things that are being ripped from me, or things that are just dissolving.
I’ll start with the hardest one, first. That’s my family.
My Grandfather is dying.
He is my last grandparent… I grieved every one, because I used to belong to a family. We all had our places, and our roles, and our dynamics.
I don’t think I’ll ever see him, again.
(you can imagine a crying emoji, right here.)
A whole bunch of stuff happened ~ I don’t really want to talk about it, but *I feel* like my mother shut me out. To go through it alone, or whatever. Soon, she’ll have no parents left.
So, even though I really wanted to see him, I had to turn toward myself; the most difficult and unnatural state I’ve ever been in. But that’s what it’s come down to, unfortunately. And I suddenly feel like not helping anyone, again. I could never have imagined that – ever – in the past.
But I seem to have reached the age where, “Life stops giving you things and starts taking them away.”
The Second thing, is Me.
Letting go (again), of me.
I will be 35 in a couple of months, and that’s about middle age. (unless you’re a Taoist, in which case: just a baby!)
– but that might be the problem.
I think I have to grow up and change.
Since my family has dissolved, I grieved this same thing, three times, before – and now a fourth.
And that is: I feel really sad that my family never got to meet anyone who Loved me.
Because I’ve never met anyone who Loved me.
Out of everyone in my family, I never got to bring anyone to Christmas.
– there’s a lot in there.
But, it’s time to face some facts, and accept some realities;
Being an astrologer, keywords such as “dissolve”, and “family”, might indicate Neptune in the 4th House… that would be correct. Twin my South Node: everything I ever was.
Out of everything I’ve read, I really appreciate the no-bullshit approach to case studies.
This includes the South Node in Cancer or the 4th House.
Someone (probably a Sagittarius) aptly said:
“Let’s face it; if you have South Node in Cancer or the 4th House, having a family just isn’t going to work for you.”
The reason for that, is that the focus is all in the opposite direction; worldy affairs.
So my two-and-half thing, is I’m letting go of my youth.
“…it’s time to put childish things aside.” ~ Dr. Robert Doback
The Third thing, is my Rosemary Plant.
(you can read about her brief life a few posts, below)
The reason (one of), that I am leaving here.
And I don’t feel so protective of this story – my mad, soon-to-be EX friend.
He has Moon in Capricorn, can I get a: “DOMESTIC CONTROL”?!
Seriously: WHO HAS TIME FOR THIS?
I feel like I’m in a frat house, with some kid who’s just moved out of home for the first time, and does NOT know how the real world works.
I am feeling murderous… over the smallest things.
He is the most controlling person I have ever lived with.
As such, *this* whole “thing” was aborted, and is a bit of a bloody mess, currently.
The short version, is that he was recently diagnosed as schizophrenic, and maybe I should pay attention to that.
He dug-up my symbolic Rosemary plant that I planted, on the Sagittarius Honey Moon.
I planted her, because my family was dissolving. I feel like I have no roots, anywhere, and if I pay close attention, I can see the signs:
The Fourth Thing, is my Privacy.
(again. I let go of a bit of that in my first book; I was really The Witness, there)
My only direction, is to go public.
North Node in the 10th House.
I just have to go out, rather than in.
I am learning to drive so that I can be inside and outside, at the same time.
According to everyone, I can drive; but I like someone with me… 4th House past doesn’t get to have that.
Usually, i separate my public life and my deeper, private self… but what the hell:
Emotions for Everyone!
So… I’m not sure whether to pay attention to the loss – to *feel* my way through it – or to take another dose of homeopathic ignatia…
Currently leaning toward that latter.
And I am thinking of the saddest things…
Just all these awful memories of loss, that I won’t go into, here, but they will sort of be in one of my new books.
Mixed with foreign tears that echo someone else’s sadness…
Being a empath is really confusing; I never know whose sweet tears are falling down my face…
I had “hoped’, that Jupiter approaching my Moon might bring a stroke of Luck on the Homefront; but i was aware that it may just mean BIG. EMOTIONS. Which seems the case; with a New Moon, to boot. RESET. And of course, that’s all just EMPHASIZED.
In the 9th House, though, I REALLY want to write. A lot.
The Last thing, is my Town.
I just don’t belong here, anymore.
So, Thank You, Tom Waits, for vibin’ on me, for *feeling* like “Home”, and for inspiring one of my new projects, coming soon.
And thank you for reading – it felt good to get it all off my chest.
In this clutter of projection, writing is one of the only things we have left to get a ‘really good look” at ourselves. Hopefully, reflected in each other.
Until then; Hold On, says Tom-who-Waits…
They hung a sign up in our town
“if you live it up, you won’t
live it down”
So, she left Monte Rio, son
Just like a bullet leaves a gun
With charcoal eyes and Monroe hips
She went and took that California trip
Well, the moon was gold, her
Hair like wind
She said don’t look back just
Come on Jim
Oh you got to
Hold on, Hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here
You gotta hold on
Well, he gave her a dimestore watch
And a ring made from a spoon
Everyone is looking for someone to blame
But you share my bed, you share my name
Well, go ahead and call the cops
You don’t meet nice girls in coffee shops
She said baby, I still love you
Sometimes there’s nothin left to do
Oh you got to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here, you got to
Just hold on.
Well, God bless your crooked little heart St. Louis got the best of me
I miss your broken-china voice
How I wish you were still here with me
Well, you build it up, you wreck it down
You burn your mansion to the ground
When there’s nothing left to keep you here, when
You’re falling behind in this
Big blue world
Oh you go to
Hold on, hold on
You got to hold on
Take my hand, I’m standing right here
You got to hold on
Down by the Riverside motel,
It’s 10 below and falling
By a 99 cent store she closed her eyes
And started swaying
But it’s so hard to dance that way
But it’s so hard to dance that way
When it’s cold and there’s no music
Well your old hometown is so far away
But inside your head
There’s a record that’s playing
A song called
Baby, gotta hold on
I’m standing right here
You got to hold on
*~ THE GUARDIAN OF EDEN ~*
Once upon a time, we had temples.
In those temples, were the Priests and Priestesses of The Goddess: Creatrix.
For the purpose of this story, we have the Trinity of Innocence, Ignorance, and Illumination:
Civilians; Beasts; and Priests and Priestesses of Creation.
In the time of the wars, the temples were used as a filter; to “de-beast” the bloody before they were allowed back into the villages among the innocent civilian men and women.
Eventually, The Beasts destroyed The Temples, along with the Priests and Priestesses – and everything they stood for.
They raped and pillaged the villages and villagers, breeding in violence, ignorance, chaos, and disorder ~ and a sleepy darkness fell all over the land…
What we have today, is this mess.
We have Civilians and Beasts who think they’re priests/priestesses; Beasts who claim to be Gurus, Holy Men, and Leaders, capitalizing on ignorance; invisible Priests and Priestesses without temples, and without each other – and any other chaos, suspicion, confusion, and undoing you can think of.
– sprinkle a starry-hope of the precious small things of life, in there, too. Civilian life is creative, fun, exciting, unpredictable, and has a lot more *~ expanding ~* to do…
The glorification – and training of – the nature of The Beast in women and men, through television and cinema, mixes the beast in with civilians; Breeding. Possessing. Controlling.
Condoning bad behaviour, and making it appear ‘normal’.
Anyone whole (Holy) is portrayed as Sanctimonious, Vacuous, a Charlatan, or a Loon.
We are the children of this mess:
Children of Priests
Children of Beasts
Our Mothers; of consciousness or unconsciousness.
Wounded, sometimes. Lineages back.
This beast has nothing to do with passion; nothing to do with sensuality; nor anything to do with the liberated ecstasy of the Earth-God, Pan.
This beast is purely reptilian, and in feral, survival mode. Calculating, reactive, ruthless, and manipulative.
(see comments for more on the reptilian brain.)
Survival is not necessary in a thriving, expansive eden of existence… there is Life beyond “Thunderdome”.
We all make our journeys from Innocence to Ignorance, from Innocence to Illumination, and from Ignorance, to Illumination.
There *is* an order.
Astrological Archetypes are a language unto themselves, and contain timeless, cyclic wisdom; The Priest/Priestess of our story is the True Representation of the Star Sign, VIRGO.
The Era of Wars, as the Age of ARIES.
The Earth-God Pan as the Age of TAURUS.
The Age of CANCER as the era of Matriarchal Societies and Cathedrals.
These traditional planetary rulers are:
Virgo: Mercury – “Right-hand of God/Goddess/Sun”, Scribe, Communication of Tantra.
Aries: Mars – Energy, Impulse, Force.
Taurus: Venus – Treasures, Senses, Love, Beauty, Art, Aesthetics.
Cancer: Moon – Roots, Origins, Mother, Home, Womb-Wisdom.
“Bad Leos demand to be treated like royalty.
Good Leos treat others like they were royalty, too.” ~ Christopher Witecki
“Whoever controls the media controls the mind.” ~ Jim Morrison
“What are you doing, Brahman?
You’re playing Hide and Seek with yourself…” ~ Alan Watts
At least we all have our humanness in common.
And Love, if we can find it.