Archive for category Nature

Pluto Square Uranus: Notes from a Fire

Jemez Fire 2013

Jemez Fire 2013

Here is a beautiful example of how the macrocosmic celestial relationships, whose symbolic meanings often feel so ungraspable, translate into our daily lives at the microcosmic level.  This is what the delivery of the Thunderbolt (Uranus) of Destruction (Pluto) in square actually looks and feels like right here on terra firma.  As many of you know, I do live in the Jemez Mountains and this fire did start just a mile from my home.  Fortunately for me and my small neighborhood, it began east of us, with winds blowing east.  However, it’s presence has been huge and overwhelming and, though I am safe here to the West of it, I know so many flora dying and ache for the fauna (including humans) that are threatened and struggling in its path.  What I am including here is a series of “reports” I wrote to friends in Santa Fe and some of their responses which, as a whole, I believe can illuminate the deep feelings held by so many on this planet as we traverse the series of Squares between these two planets through 2015.  They are, indeed, “sparking” destructive changes, the opening of old and buried wounds, and the transformation of them into something larger than our personal circumstances.  It’s about personally and universally connecting to events that effect us all, though in our individual ways.  In addition to these written exchanges, I have had many calls from clients, as well as conversations with village friends, regarding the welling up of sorrows and fears, intensive periods of overwhelming fatigue to an almost narcoleptic degree, as well as sudden personal crises whose end appears in doubt.  This is exactly what this epoch is all about and, as these exchanges reveal, the deep and abiding drive to heal.

If you are willing to make your way through them, it is my hope that the progression in the “calls and responses” between myself and friends will elucidate the natural progression from the first “numb and dumb” recognition of a new reality and it’s often concomitant attention to “facts” (a good way to find control in uncontrollable circumstances) toward a more full and contemplative reflection on the symbolism of events, which is what astrology, life, transition and death are all about.  It is also the core of what will be required of us through the Uranus/Pluto squares and klieg lights of sudden changes through the next few years.  They will bring the destruction and, which will then open the way for the “something new.”  But we have to extend our horizons and think long-term, just as the twists and turns of this fire have required those of us in its immediate vicinity to do.  This requires endurance and courage and the simple ability to sometimes just sit with ourselves and cry.  It, like aging, is definitely not for the faint of heart.

Before you continue, please do pardon the rather interesting formatting throughout.  These exerpts are directly taken out of e-mails and, given all the various fonts and compatibilities of the digital world, I have not been able to format it all here in any uniform manner.  Perhaps another metaphor for our confusing and disconnected world at the moment.  Though that is a vestige of a past structure now falling down.

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The Drunken Master, Crazy Wisdom and the Shining Light

Okay, so, I AM spending a great deal more time over THERE on my Taoist blogsite.  You know, the Tao just comes in flow, just as astrology does.  I have decided to simply “let go” of what and where I should be doing anything and invite my readers to experience the rhythmic, non-linearly-delineated wisdoms of, well, kinesthetic wisdom.  I have so many interests and, in my younger days, felt guilty when I was doing one thing as opposed to another.  I felt that I was neglecting something I should be doing while attending to something else.  Now that I have entered a different phase and different perspective of life, I realize how the movement between each subject and activity only enlivens and enriches the others.  No, it’s not conventional and may, at times, seem crazy or inattentive, but, just like the wonderful man in the photo here, over time, it all makes sense.

A wonderful man I once knew, my acupuncturist, who was actually my star twin (born within two weeks of each other) told me that, being a Taoist, one becomes the interstitial fluid that flows through and into each and every cell of the body.  We flow.  Others choose to be the stationary cell, but we choose to move between millions of those cells.  Neither one can be what it is without the other.  Flow depends on the stationary and the stationary depends on the flow.  It all comes down to discerning choice.  Emphasis on Discerning and Choice.  Know what it is you are choosing to do and all becomes right.

So, I hope you stay with me in the flow of life and the tao and astrology and all other subjects that bear upon our lives at the moment.  As that famous quote states:  “Every tangent turns into a circle, if you just have the patience to wait long enough.” I am over there right now. With my crazy, drunk masters of light.   Hope you can make the journey.

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Stalking Yarrow: New Moon in Cancer

I know, the title could be anything from the name of a horror slasher film that takes place in and around a very rural, abandoned farmhouse to that of a workshop given by one of those fraudulent, often caucasian, new age, shaman/guru wannabes.

It is, in fact, however, a very mundane, though richly nourishing experience that takes place out in nature, far from the madding crowds and without accompaniment of vacuous devotees.

Out here in the real, this is high season for wildcrafting the herbs and medicinal plants that root themselves under the guidance of nature in our fields and ditches.  Those who lead the fast-paced urban-based tourista sort of life behind the wheels of expensive and usually debt-procured speeding cars never notice the abundance passing by their windows along the roadways  and byways taking them to their final destinations.

There is an entirely different journey to be had out here and, at it’s core, brings the traveler into intimate contact with the flora and fauna along the winding path.

Wild oats jangle under the brush of a passing hand and the red stalks and deep greens of wild spinach are pulled and picked by grateful fingers to be served at the evening meal.  Crows perch in branches and loudly harass the passerby, whether it be a bi-pedal human strolling along on the silent carpet of pine needles or a raptor that has strayed too far into the corvids’ nesting area.

Astrology, at it’s finest and most original, is all about the understanding of the turning of the cosmos and fluid changing of the seasons.  As  we should know, it’s practice was developed during a time of humanity when the whirlings of the stars and the rhythms of nature were viscerally understood as one and the same.  The measuring of the constellations took place with a simple compass under a darkened sky.  Planting and tending and harvesting held center stage in the activities of every household.  Astrology was conceived and birthed during an epoch where humans realized themselves fully as being in relationship to an intangible life force whose meaning might be perceived in the touch of a leaf, tasted in root soups, seen and heard in the singing of the wind in boughs that wept and swayed on high.

They were times in which to seek the counsel of an astrologer was to engage in a dynamic and ongoing conversation regarding the metaphysical meanings of the physical world.  They did not involve transient,  individual “readings,” a lazy and hierarchical habit now employed by most astrologers in which they simply sit and “talk at” the client.  Such astrologers merely reflect the larger cultural environment in which we now live, one where “civilization” has diminished our abilities to engage in real relationship, one where the subtleties of actual relating have been lost to a two-dimensional, authoritarian style of making pronouncements about the client.  Those are the astrologers that prefer the speeding car to the walk in the woods.  Most of those live in urban environments, shuttered inside walls and blocks of concrete and smog that block their view of the heavens.  They spend their time at their computers, attempting to glean some meaning of the world around them from glowing screens amidst fearful street lamps the obscure the shining and darkness of the moon.

Ah, well, Lao Tze has always said that civilization destroys the true essence of the human being and, in my years of experience now, I have come to agree with him.

Yarrow harvesting is the name of the season here at the moment.  And, indeed, they are tall plants on narrow stalks, their leaves feathery and light, all culminating in a cluster of white flowers so identifiable, even at a distance.  This is the time where those of us who know, see them out of the corner of our eyes even as we traverse winding, rural roads and stop the car, gather our gathering bags and scissors, and traipse out past the lined highways and gather, gather gather this amazing medicinal plant.  And then there comes the washing and hanging and drying and then, on the New Moon in Cancer, immersing them in their healing oils to sit and infuse that oil with their profoundly healing essences.

New Moon in Cancer – aahh, the great mother, ruler of the breasts and giving of her abundant, nourishing milk.  And she will bestow those juices when the time is right.  Patience is her virtue and that which she teaches to those willing to surrender to her guidance.  She takes unto herself the primary ingredients and, over time, just like a gestating woman, transforms them into complex life.  All others must wait and honor the time and place of her transmutation of those simple things.  She has her own rhythm and it is ours to develop the subtle perceptions to know when her delivery is right and full and imminent.  And then, to minister to the birthing of her progeny.  We know that she, and they, will bestow their gifts for a long time to come, shall heal our illnesses even in the muted and grey days of winter and hold us steady until spring comes again.  Her oils, salves and tinctures are rich beyond belief and ours is to trust that she does, indeed, have the power to guide us through the uncertainties of the darkness.

My writing this comes at a time when we, as a collective, both conscious and unconscious, face an uncertain and precarious future.  That is true.

I also write this just 6 weeks after Venus has crossed the Sun, a once in a lifetime event for all of us alive right now.  That influence is not just generationally epochal, but belongs to the larger anals of centuries of recorded human history.  This era, for many reasons, shall be studied by many, from anthropologists to paleontologists to astrologers alike for a very long time to come.  Though many in western civilization simply say, “oh, yeah, I was there and did that,” before they turn their attention to the next, newest headline on the tv screen, our duty here is to pause and contemplate the deeper meanings of Venus’ appearance at this time and this place.

My next entry will, indeed, be devoted to that very topic, though I am still reflecting on it and will, indeed, wait until she moves me to speak.  She does herald a very important message in amongst our doom and gloom.

As all psychotherapists ask when any new event or appearance makes itself known, the question is:  “why here, why now?”  Therein lies the rub.

In the meantime, I wish for all of us to step outside and smell the smells of green and abundance, to lie down and listen to the  soft, story-telling murmurs of the feminine as we lay our heads upon her chest and drift into sleep.

She is there, always has been.  We have simply forgotten her.

Venus returns now to remind us of her power and her beauty.

Dream well.





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Of Dreams, Calypso and Humanity

I awoke last night out of a dream in which I experienced myself as nothing more than a small point of awareness passing through a very brief moment in a particular time in history. Like a small stone passing through our atmosphere.  It wasn’t an intellectual realization, but, rather, a kinesthetic and right brain sensation of understanding.  A very pleasant, soft knowing of becoming nothing.  We strive so often and work so hard here to become something and forget the entire point is to become its opposite.  We spend so much time thinking about the world after we are gone and yet, seem never to contemplate the fact that the world has been for billions of years before we ever were.  And it did just fine without us, individually and collectively.  I think we would all do better if we were to contemplate that larger time frame, rather than our own.

At any rate, such musings are not new and others have written of similar matters before.  What was a turning point for me was that one inside of which the gap between intellectual knowledge and kinesthetic wisdom is bridged.  That bridge arrived not in the throes of full dream time, but inside that twilight of half-awake/half-asleep space where an easy flow of stream of consciousness can be experienced.  It is the space within which the mind can heal itself:  allowing the connections between the abstract, non-verbal, right brain realms and the concrete, linear left brain arena to intertwine and weave themselves into the Holistic Mind.

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Climate Change: The Heart of the Matter

Our news and radio waves have featured multitudes of arguments over whether global warming/cooling is caused by human activities or by natural events in our solar system.  As per usual, the juveniles amongst us, most of whom control media, have set up this consideration in the all too familiar structural framework of whose team wins.  We all know it, were trained within it as high schoolers at football games, and with which we continue to function as children in adult bodies:  who is the winning team?  Reds versus blues, science versus religion, girls versus boys, etc., etc., blah blah boring.

We should all be aware and savvy enough by now to know that there are many who exploit panic for profit.  That is a given.  Yes, some have, indeed, selfishly positioned themselves to profit from carbon emissions reductions and the like.  Anybody who has done their own research by now knows that Al Gore, Mr. Non-Integrity, positioned himself on the board of the carbon emissions trading commission to line his pockets with the gold of hysteria even before he went out on stage to present his global warming message.

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Time is Busy These Days: Is the End Really Nigh?

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!”  Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz

Here we are, in the final days of the end of an ancient, indigenous calendar, at least in the calculated view of a north american white male who decided that his  new and improved interpretation of another culture’s work is, of course, the correct one.  Because it’s “real science” of course, sifted and purified by the sieves and structures of mathematical equations and derivations scratched out on blank sheets of white paper and mental somersaults conducted inside square rooms full of volumes of similar mental chatter.  It’s the story of the cowboys versus the indians, once again.

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Tales from the Scrypt: Stumbling Out onto the Road

“I am the hero of my own story.”  Mary Macarthy

Answering the Call to the Hero’s Journey

I have finally landed on the other side – released the “pause button,” as it were, though the landing and becoming have required sufficient time and space to find each other and form the beginning steps of the dance of the narrative they are meant to create together.  I am now five weeks into a vision quest I decided to take because, well, vision questing has been the overall narrative of my life thus far and I found myself needing, once again, to acquiesce to its seemingly irrational rhyme and reason.  Such calls to meanderings have, and continue to, confound me, though the unwrapping of their gifts and treasures I know always lasts far into future . . . most often into lifetimes.

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Pressing the Pause Button

Playful Love

Thank you to my readers for continuing to visit my blog, though my writing has been sparse of late.  That is temporary and the result of an impending move.  Packing and continuing consulting sessions are all that are on my plate for the moment.  I am appreciative of the fact that readers are using the down time to read older posts.

The mundane tasks of sorting through clothing, silverware and books does provide open time for reflection and dream time.  The dissolution of my current home has left me with ample hours to muse on these Neptunian and Plutonic times of discovering and uncovering my own (as one small part of our collective unconscious) deepest secrets and dissolving old forms of thought, assumptions and structures for conducting our lives (Neptune in Aquarius, Pluto in Capricorn, both retrograde at the moment {as are Chiron, Uranus and Mercury as well})  Reflection and review of both our personal and collective epochal themes are the order of the day.

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Demeter’s Love: Part 2 -The Reclamation

Persephone Returns to Her Mother

The reclamation required in an examination of the story of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, must be conducted on both the material and metaphoric realms in order for its message to be fully comprehended.  This is the story first and foremost of the intense love and devotion of a mother for her daughter.  It is also, however, one of the first examples of how the patriarchy takes a distinctly feminine narrative and alters it, not just for its own immediate benefit, but to shape all future narratives in service of that patriarchal agenda.  Like the asphalt and carpets that have buried the once vibrant heart of natural and holistic civilizations, the stories of ourselves have also been painted over with foreign words.  They have been left as dry, truncated husks  – empty tomes whose only purpose is to serve the needs of political, social, economic and religious institutions bent on exercising authority and power over others.

The need here is to pull up the rugs, open the closets, air out and reclaim  these narratives.  They are stories of love, passion and the deep desires of individuals to serve the good of the whole.  They were not written down at all – they were not etched into stultifying, leather-bound encyclopedias.  They were, rather, engaged in and played out within the rich and unpredictable terrain between the bookends of thousands of years of living.  They are stories of blood and birth, of harvest and cornucopias, of reverence and duty to that which is, indeed, incomprehensible to the human mind, the divine intelligence which infuses all things with life. The focus of those intertwining and intersecting epochs, eras, and communal and singular lives were centered upon the subtle and brilliant movements between the once-fluid masculine and feminine energetics, guided by the wisdom of the goddess. Read the rest of this entry »

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Demeter’s Love: Part 1 – The Truth

It has been just over one year since I wrote a piece on Pluto (see The Love Parade) and this planet’s part in the epoch-defining Cardinal Cross, whose permutations will be with us for many years.  In that piece, I reviewed the greek myth of Demeter, Goddess of grain, agriculture and all that lives and grows upon the land, and the kidnap of her daughter, Persephone, by Hades (Pluto).  The themes introduced in that piece, as well as those of the configuration of The Cardinal Cross, remain with us.  Because we have failed in large part to listen to those thematic warnings, we continue to spiral ever deeper into their as yet unlearned of metaphysical and psychological lessons.  Because we have ignored the need to change the physical structures leading us all unto a premature death, we need to descend to a more subterranean level of understanding.  We will go there, by fate or choice, but go there we will. So, we’re off on an archeological spelunking expedition to broaden the view of where we are now and, hopefully, alter the consequences of our past and the course of our future.

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