Shared Insights into Brighid's Stellar Aspects

Something I shared just now over on TC's LotS group:

In November 2010, a bunch of us over on the old Cauldron forum had a moment of what might be called "unverified shared gnosis" about the stellar aspects of Brighid - when our individual UPGs seemed to converge on a shared understanding that, though common among us, was not necessarily reflected in the traditional lore and mythology about Brighid.

I've been thinking more about this phenomenon recently, and how it might be part the evolution of the gods in mutual relationship with our own growing scientific and technological understanding of the natural world. I'm no expert on comparative mythology, but I don't really know of any ancient deities that were both solar and stellar in nature, or any ancient cultures that believed that the stars were actually suns like ours that were small because they were so far away (if there were any, I think they were probably pretty rare at least). Now with our scientific understanding of the relationship between our sun and the stars in the night sky, it makes sense to me that a solar/fire goddess like Brighid would have a latent stellar aspect that might be coming to the surface in light (pun intended!) of our expanding knowledge.

So I like to keep my eyes open for other examples of this emerging understanding of Brighid as a stellar goddess. And I thought here might be a good place to for all of us to share any examples that we come across.

One that I found just today, in fact, was in the book The Salmon in the Spring: The Ecology of Celtic Spirituality by Jason Kirkey. In one section, he's telling a story about a time in his life when he was "apprenticed to winter" and struggling with a certain spiritual aimlessness, when he decided to go out walking among the hills of Ireland. Lost in a thick mist, he felt the spiritual winter melting away and Brighid's warm presence prompting him to joyous laughter. As he began to make for home, he realized he'd been completely turned around and didn't know which direction to head in to get back to the harbor village where he was staying - when suddenly, despite it being three in the afternoon, a single star appeared in the mist as a guiding light. He set off in that direction, making his way down the hill - and the star grew brighter and brighter as he neared. He writes (emphasis mine):

The impossibility of the moment was weighing on me. How could there be a single star shining so bright through the mist in the afternoon? At any moment, I expected to reach the star, now a vaginal opening of light through the mist, and be born back into the world. A wind blew suddenly. The mist thinned. Briefly I glimpsed a world which was foreign to me, inhabited by streets, cars, and fishing boats. In Ireland people tell stories of glimpsing the faery people and their paradisiacal world. I felt like running back to the stones to tell them my tale of glimpsing a human world full of both beauty and confusion. My star was the sun reflecting off the harbor. So disoriented, my perception within the mist had dissolved all heights and depths within each other; externally and internally. Here there was unity between Heaven and Earth.

He describes this event as occurring in early February right around Imbolc, but of having a feel about it that reminded him strongly of a solstice, so much so that he intuitively thought of the star leading the wise men in the Christian story of Jesus' birth.

This passage struck me so strongly for a couple of reasons:

- First, only a few days ago, I led a Druidic solstice ritual for my family (husband, stepkids, parents and brother, nine of us in total) in which we honored both Jesus as a deity of the newborn sun and Brighid as a stellar goddess. In Irish folklore, St. Brigid is known as the "midwife of Christ" and during our meditation and candle-lighting ceremony I used the story of the star guiding the wise men to tie into the idea of Brighid as a stellar goddess and creatrix helping to "give birth" to our most intimate star, the sun. That only a few days later I should read a passage in a book linking Brighid the goddess not just to Imbolc but to the winter solstice through exactly the same story was pretty powerful.

- Second, the very fact that after describing his sense of Brighid's presence, Kirkey goes on to describe a profound experience of being guided by a star.... a star that, in fact, turns out to be the sun! And not just the sun, but the sun reflected in water! Ummm..... Fire In Water anyone? This experience of disorientation where distance blends "up" and "down" until they are indistinguishable and a reflection below can seem like a star from above is something I myself experienced earlier this fall while on my honeymoon - traveling through the flat desert of Utah at sunset, gazing westward it seemed to me that I was not looking up into a rose-gold sky, but looking down from a great height out onto a strange sea whose waters were illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun, with the dark shapes of clouds scattered like islands in that water. So again, there's this blending of fire and water in connection with the sun. In my case, this was just before our first night of camping out beneath the stars in a national park that's considered one of the best star-gazing sites in the country.

What's interesting is that, even though he mentions Brighid only a paragraph earlier and in the context of this same story, Kirkey doesn't himself make any explicit connection between her presence and the sudden appearance of the sun-[i]qua[/i]-star. It's not as though he's intentionally trying to make that connection with his story - but the relationship seems almost inescapably obvious considering some of the Unverified Shared Gnosis of this group.

I'd love to hear people's thoughts on this, or if anyone else has come across examples of this kind of unexpected shared gnosis in other places!

Calendar of Saturn Transits

For the full version, click below the fold.

Brighid and Otherworld Goddesses

Soliwo left a message in the Meadowsweet Commons asking a bit more about Brighid in her dark aspect, and possible connections with Persephone. Below is what I wrote in response:

Soliwo, It's good to hear from you!

And what a wonderful synchronicity that you've shared about Persephone! A couple weeks ago, I received a new DSLR camera as an early solstice present, and one of my first projects with it was experimenting in low light conditions to test the limits of its settings and sensor quality. Inspired by some of photographs I'd seen recently and an impulse purchase of a pomegranate at Whole Foods - I decided to do a series inspired by Persephone's story! I've shared the results here if you want to see them. :)

It's interesting, because I don't really have a relationship with Persephone at all. Maybe it's because of being woefully over-educated in the Greek myths when I was younger, but for me the Greek deities have that same "abstract" feeling as you describe feeling towards the Celtic gods. For a long time, I felt that abstraction about the Celtic gods, too, and it was only after shifting my perspective that I realized maybe there was a different way of approaching Celtic gods than Greek ones.... if that makes any sense. I'm still exploring, so I'm not sure I can go into detail about what that difference might be, but in my experience the Celtic deities are much more like complex, multi-faceted people with overlapping roles and relationships (and all of them very closely tied into the natural world), whereas the Greek deities seem more like personifications of cultural movements, forces or aspects (and more "civilized" or urban than wild or connected to the wilderness).

I think the gods, like ordinary people, are influenced by the cultures they belong to and the landscapes they inhabit. And like people, they can also change and adapt over time. It's good to be wary of cultural (mis)appropriation, but I wouldn't worry too much about eclecticism and syncretism. We have lots of evidence that this kind of cultural blending and exchange was going on all the time in the ancient world. Heck, half of the archeological evidence we have for the Celtic deities comes from the Romano-Celtic period when the Romans began writing things down and carving human-looking statues of gods that had once resided only in abstract designs and natural earth formations. (And the other half comes from the lingering folk traditions and reinterpretations of Celtic Christianity!) In my experience, striving too hard for some kind of purity in adhering to the "original" beliefs and practices of our ancestors can be unhelpful and even stifling for our spiritual relationships.

So I guess part of my advice at this point - if you're looking for advice! - would be to explore widely and pay attention to how you feel when you're trying to connect with the gods. You're bringing your own modern cultural assumptions and patterns to whatever relationship you have with them, and they have their own cultural foundations as well. How those cultural patterns interact will shape your relationship with them. And some of it will be on an intuitive or subconscious level. When I first started studying Celtic mythology and culture, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of unfamiliar, unpronounceable names and nonsensical stories. It felt like I was dialing an old phone number given to me by a friend of a friend, and only getting the dial tone of a disconnected line. But I kept reading and exploring, and letting my subconscious work its way through all the information and start making those connections. I paid close attention to when I felt closest to the gods, and could see how important ritual and physical interactions were for me. (F'ex, physically cutting into and handling a pomegranate down in the dank atmosphere of the basement brought home to me the personality of Persephone more than any story about her I'd ever heard.) After years of that kind of exploration, slowly the Celtic culture began to feel more and more like a natural place to be. Instead of drowning in unfamiliar waters, I was swimming like a fish! :) That's when the gods stopped being abstractions for me - though there are still times when I feel distant or disconnected from them.

So.... you asked about Brighid as a possible Underworld goddess. This is one of those times when the answer is a bit complicated because Greek and Celtic cultures are different. The Celts didn't exactly have an idea of an "Underworld" in the same way the Greeks did. For one thing, the Celts believed firmly in reincarnation - either into this same world, or into a paradisiacal otherworld often referred to as a Land of Summer, Land of Youth or Island of Apples. There were gods associated with this Summerland, but the ones I know of are male (for instance, Manannan mac Lir, god of the sea). Also, the Celts didn't just have one Otherworld, though you can generally refer to all of the other worlds collectively by the singular term. The Otherworld for the Celts wasn't above (like a heaven) or below (like an Underworld) but right here, just on the other side of our reality, separated only by a thin veil or mist. It was the realm of the Sidhe or the Faery folk - but who they are is also a complicated thing: some think of them as gods, some as the beloved dead, some as (fallen) angels (a Celtic Christian concept). My impression is that the Celts weren't very keen on clear-cut hierarchies, so trying to delineate deities from Sidhe from the dead isn't always easy.

Okay, so - could Brighid be associated with the Underworld/Otherworld? Yes and no. She is definitely a goddess of the threshold and the liminal spaces, like you said, and she has that connection (through marriage to Bres) with the "darker" forces of chaos and wilderness. As a member of the Tuatha de Danann, she is also one of those who withdrew into the Sidhe (burial) mounds when the Milesians came and conquered Ireland. On the other hand, she has tended to be associated more with the light, order and structures of culture and civilization (for instance, through her ties to poetry, healing and smithcraft, which all held important cultural significance in Celtic society), rather than with the wilder, darker aspects of death and dying. In my relationship with her, even in her darker aspect she has a deep connection with the stars, points of light in the darkness that give guidance and direction, and that spin through the emptiness of space in a fairly orderly fashion. ;) So I think that Brighid could definitely help you work with Underworld/Otherworld relationships and aspects of your spirituality - but she'll bring a particular perspective and energy to that work that will be different from Persephone or some of the other Celtic deities. Does that make sense?

If you want to explore some Celtic gods and goddesses that might have more obvious ties to the Underworld/Otherworld, there are a couple I can recommend.

- Caer Ibormeith. She is a Sidhe who transforms from a
maiden into a swan every other Samhain and back again on the next. The swan - as a water fowl - has connections to the three realms of land, sea and sky and is thus considered a particularly powerful Otherworld animal who can pass between the worlds. Caer Ibormeith's name means "yew berry." The yew tree has many associations with death and resurrection, and the seed of the yew berry is poisonous to human beings (another connection between death (poison) and new life (the seed)). Samhain, obviously, has connections with death and the beloved dead, and as a Sidhe Caer Ibormeith occupies that ambiguous place between the gods and the dead. I worked with her for a while several years ago, and through my relationship with her eventually came to my relationship with Brighid. (Some of the shared UPG of some folks I've talked with online point to the possibility that the swan is also a sacred animal of Brighid's, and so Caer Ibormeith and Brighid might share a closer relationship or even be two aspects of a single goddess.)

- Rhiannon. In Welsh mythology, Rhiannon is a Sidhe Queen who marries Pwyll (and later, after Pwyll's death, remarries with Manawydan fab Llyr, the Welsh deity who is similar to and/or the same as Manannan mac Lir). Before meeting Rhiannon, Pwyll has his own adventures, including switching places with Arawn, the King of Annwn, in order to defeat Arawn's enemy. Annwn is the closest you'll probably get in Welsh mythology to the concept of an Underworld - it is characterized as a land of the dead, though a paradisiacal one of eternal summer and youth. By switching places with Arawn and defeating his enemy, Pwyll earns the title "King of Annwn" for himself. One of his trials during this adventure is to resist the seduction of Arawn's wife (who mistakenly believes Pwyll is Arawn) - there is some suggestion in the mythology that Rhiannon is actually this same Sidhe Queen who was married to Arawn, though it's not clear. In either case, when she weds Pwyll, Rhiannon is effectively marrying the King of the Dead, as well as having connections to the Otherworld in her own right through her lineage as a Sidhe. Later as a widow, she marries Manawydan who is the only one to return from a war with the Irish - Manawydan, like his Irish counterpart Manannan, also has ties to the Land of Eternal Youth and so can also be thought of as an Otherworld "King of the Dead" type of figure. Rhiannon herself also has connections to death and rebirth/renewal, f'ex in the story of how her son is stolen from her as a baby and she is framed for his death.


I mention both of these because I've worked with both of them (though not as closely as with Brighid), and they both seem to me to have that same kind of quality as Persephone - being maidens or queens who are in relationship with "the dark" and death, but who are also able to cross the thresholds between the worlds. If you want to know more about Caer Ibormeith, I've written a short story inspired by her, and you might also want to explore a bit into the story of Aengus Og and his relationship with her. For Rhiannon, you might really enjoy reading the novel by Evangeline Walton based on the Welsh myth: it's called Prince of Annwn and it's the first book of her quartet based on the Mabinogion.

I hope some of this has been helpful and isn't too overwhelming! Make sure to come back and let me know how you're doing and what you're exploring - I'd love to hear!

Pomegranate Still Life

Inspired by some of the photographs shared to the Pagan Newswire Collective's Flickr page — and the fact that I just got a new DSLR camera and I wanted to test its limits with low lighting and such — I did a series of still life photographs inspired by the story of Persephone. Here are some of them:

Saturn Return: Weekly Meditation (Crossing Ascendent)

Days of Note: Saturn crosses Ascendent

Sun: sagittarius (mutable fire), 7:26 AM - 4:54 PM
Moon: *waxing gibbous, aries (cardinal fire)
Earth: cold, in the mid-to-low 40s most of the day, starting out quite sunny but then fading to gray, cloudy weather; not that I would know, as I spent pretty much all day inside working on various things, but mostly writing


Last night I had a dream that my aunt Tricia, who works from home as a baker of wonderful homemade cakes, cookies and pies, etc., had decided that she wanted to quit baking and go into taxidermy. (Apparently, this dream was probably inspired by a scene from an episode of X-Files that Jeff and I watched together last night, which I was only half paying attention to at the time and must have gotten into my subconscious.) Anyway, in the dream, my aunt decided she really wanted to be a taxidermist, she was fascinated by it. But the only tools she knew how to use were things like blenders and egg beaters. I have some vague visual impression in my mind of some poor animal carcass being tamped down into the thin, tapering container of a blender, the lid fitted on nicely and the switch flipped, resulting in that lovely whirring and the spinning of blood and bone and fur and bits all into a uniform pinkish paste.

This might not have anything to do with anything, but I thought I would jot it down.

I started writing this journal entry at 11:11 PM, though I doubt I'll be finished with it until what is technically Sunday morning. I'm wide awake and not feeling the least bit tired - which is indicative of my sleep schedule these days, where sometimes I feel so lethargic I can't pull myself out of bed before 10 AM, and other days I'm awake before dawn (which, as dark as the days are, isn't really that hard anyway) with plenty of energy to spare. This morning, I woke up at around 5 AM and tossed and turned a bit before finally giving up and getting up entirely at about 6:30 AM. Jeff had to leave to get the kids, and I fell back asleep for another few hours, so I suppose it all evened out. We'll see how I am tomorrow morning. (Jeff, who slept downstairs on the futon because he'd been snoring a lot lately, hardly slept at all last night because of various worries about this weekend, so now he's excused and sound asleep despite me still being awake.)

I hadn't planned to do much work today - or rather, I'd planned to at least try to clean and organize the basement some in preparation for our up-coming move. But two of the four kids were sick with some kind of stomach bug (which had them on a bland diet of food, though neither of them really acted all that sick - it was a nice excuse for everyone to stay quiet and relaxed in bed reading or drawing for much of the day), so thoughts of trying to organize some kind of cleaning extravaganza were out. At one point I sat down to check out John's recent post on No Unsacred Place, which was excellent as usual, and that was the kick in the ass I needed to sit down and work on the piece I'd wanted to do for this coming week about the recent news coming out of the science journals about LUCA, the Last Universal Common Ancestor, being a single, planet-sized mega-organism very similar to a "living ocean" of genetic soup. A pretty cool concept. So I spent all day researching various creation myths from different cultures and drawing comparisons between these and the scientific evidence they have for LUCA, pointing out some of the common themes of primordial chaotic waters, a moment when separation and individuation begins to occur, and the idea of a god being dismembered and the parts of his (or her) corpse being used to actually make the world.

So even though I didn't have any time really to do some formal Saturn Return meditation as I'd planned, I ended up doing quite a bit of contemplation on some of those primordial ancient themes about dissolution, death, separation, limitation and the power of form. Some of the Greek myths actually involve Kronos/Saturn himself, so... there's that.

I find myself really connecting to this idea of a common genetic ancestor in the ancient primordial oceans as a living being that is both an ancestor and a god(dess). This just really jives for me. It works well with my more animistic sensibilities which can sometimes shy away from being overly metaphorical or psychological about the gods and would rather rejoice in and celebrate the Actual Sun Right There See There It Is than in some idea of a sun deity in the abstract. On the other hand, though, it also gives some context to Manannan as a "son of the sea" without having to bear the burden of being the literal sea itself. Manannan mac LUCA, perhaps. Manannan has continued to be an important god to me, and I think I've reconciled myself to just him and Brighid for the time being as a working pair who play nicely together. Manannan is a god of the threshold, the liminal space of the mists, the psychopomp who leads the dead into the other realm, the trickster who will turn things upside-down just for the sake of teasing and challenging. I think there are definitely some parallels here between Manannan (and Manawydan from Welsh mythology) and the figure of Saturn. And strangely enough, while I think of Saturn primarily as a planet and, after that, as some kind of psychological archetype and energetic influence, I find it a lot easier to think of Manannan as an actual god, personified, and able to help me with the Saturn Return. I have no sense that he is Kronos/Saturn, any more than Jeff is, say, Commander Samuel Vimes. But the "real" god Manannan has some understanding of the character/nature/influence of the psychological archetype of Saturn and can give me some insight - like we can have a discussion about it and share our perspectives, in the same way Jeff and I can talk about the characters in Pratchett's books and he can give me insight into what it's like to be a father, something I wouldn't know as much about.

One thing that I was reflecting on just now while I was reading and trying to fall asleep was the nature of Saturn's recent transit through my twelfth house in Libra, the sign and house of my natal moon. I think it was Arroyo who said that Saturn can have a lasting influence when passing through the sign and house of the moon, even when it's not in exact or close aspect to the moon itself. I don't remember precisely when transiting Saturn was exactly conjunct my natal moon, but I do know that the moon is associated with a lot of "mommy issues" - coming to terms with the mother's influence in the family and the inner archetype of the mother in the psyche, as well as grappling with ancestral influences of all kinds that have been "inherited" on the psychic or psychological level. With my moon in Libra, I wonder if I have a particular sensitivity to concepts of fairness, justice, balance and beauty being manifested in the role of the mother - whether by myself or by other "mothers" in my life.

Saturn has been transiting my twelfth house for about two years now, I think. It's soon to cross my ascendent and enter my first house. In fact, looking up my chart just now (at 11:48 PM on Saturday, December 3) I see that transiting Saturn is within 13 minutes of my ascendent and the cusp of my first house. So... maybe that's why I'm suddenly feeling a certain amount of energy and clarity around these issues.

Anyway, as I was lying in bed I suddenly saw all the various ways in which the energy and influence of the mother had been manifesting in my life in ways that provoked my anger or frustration over a sense of violated fairness or justice - in particular in my relationship with Jeff's ex-wife and biological mother to my stepchildren, who has consistently attempted to act in the role of controlling "Mama Bear" figure to both me and Jeff as well as the kids. It hit me that I had been grappling with two issues that were often put at odds with one another.

On the one hand, I wanted things to be Fair - both in the sense of being just and balanced, and also beautiful and harmonious. This led me to a lot of conflict on Jeff's behalf when I felt that his rights as a father were being trampled on or ignored, when he didn't get "his fair share" of time with the kids (even when him having more time with them, and the struggle to get and keep that time that was often involved, left both of us feeling worn out, exhausted and stressed). I also made a lot of judgements - emotionally and ethically - about Emily choosing to stay home and be a "mom," even going on to have another child with her new husband, instead of stepping up to be an "equal partner" in both the divorce (by pulling her weight with joint debt from the previous marriage) and in her own new marriage (which, I will be the first to admit, is none of my business, though I sure do have opinions about it). This judgement - and I won't say it was judgmental necessarily, but it was a judgement, certainly - often had me worrying about the kind of example she was setting for the kids, and my own response was to push back - to balance out her example by becoming even more ambitious (Saturn!) in my own role not as a stepmom but as a "career woman" and female adult role model to the kids. This was me pushing back against the figure of the mother - both in external form and my own potential role - and seeking instead another kind of authority. That has Saturn's influence written all over it.

On the other hand, I also had already learned the lesson - which Saturn had helped teach me before - that to find a harmonious balance it is often important to let go, to release certain emotional blockages or stubborn opinions and to give up being the kind of person who has to control every little thing to make sure it all comes out alright. This was a lesson that I actually learned from my own mother, by bad example. Seeking too much control in a world that is by its very nature so much bigger and more complex than you could ever possibly understand is the very recipe for out of control stress and paranoia. This is what happened to my mother to some extent (though I have to admit that in recent years, perhaps because of the change in her career and my brother and I no longer living at home, she does seem to be improving on this in small ways). The whole thing was, in fact, a lesson all about boundaries and limits (hello again, Saturn old friend!), learning to understand the extent of your own control and when not to push beyond them but instead accept them and trust in the greater harmonies of the universe (there's Saturn, straddling that liminal space between the concrete manifestations of the inner planets and the influences of fate and cosmic force of the outer planets). This was a lesson I knew very well, and something that I continued to affirm to myself consciously. But I was completely piss-poor at actually following through and listening to my own better judgement.

So here were two urges that were definitely working at odds to one another. The urge on the one hand to make sure things were fair and just and balanced - and the desire on the other hand not to become like my own mother and like Jeff's ex-wife, both of whom were excellent examples of the immaturity and stress that characterizes a "control freak" who uses their good intentions to justify their paranoid manipulations and micro-management of everyone around them (essentially being a "mother" to everyone and not being able to trust others to do what's fair or harmonious on their own). Confronted with the glaring evidence that Jeff's ex-wife had no interest in being fair - I think mainly simply because she was incapable of stepping outside of her own perspective in order to see how what she wanted was unfair - it was an incredible challenge for me not to respond by trying to control her.

My response, and something I had to work on with Jeff a lot, was a process of affirming our personal boundaries. It took a lot of push-back and a great deal of stress and hard work every time we were confronted with Emily's tendency to act entitled to private information about our lives that were none of her business or to bombard Jeff with unsolicited emails full of advice about issues of which she had little to no actual knowledge. We worked hard, as a couple and equal partners in the matter, to help each cope with that stress and reaffirm our right to establish clear, healthy boundaries. But mostly, it sucked. I've been getting down on myself a lot over the past couple years about my feelings of having failed at this work, or at least of having responded in ways that were not helpful or healthy. And definitely there were times when our attempts to establish strong boundaries crossed the line into an attempt to control or compensate for Emily's disrespectful or manipulative behavior. But looking back now, I actually feel like we did an okay job. One recent change came about when I broke down and asked some folks on an internet forum if they had any resources that might help. One person responded and pointed me to the "Ten Commandments for Low-Contact Parallel Parenting with High-Drama Ex's." (The idea of having a short, authoritative list of simple rules to follow.... yeah, Saturn, you bet.) Jeff and I read this over, saw a lot of ways that we were already following the techniques suggested and a lot of other places where we could improve. So we started following the rules, and we sent a copy of them to Emily asking her to abide by them as well. (This was after we caught her in a bald-faced lie about one of the kids' health issues, which for us was the final straw and, in some ways, a relief that her manipulation could no longer be denied or explained away.... though of course, that didn't stop her from trying.)

That was about two months ago now, I think. Today, Jeremy confronted Jeff when he went to pick up the kids to let him know that two of them weren't feeling well - and for good measure threw in his own two cents about how "this silent treatment isn't having the effect we [Jeff and I] were hoping it would have." The comment had Jeff fuming when he got home, but he and I talked about it and were able to laugh off the continued arrogance and immaturity. I pointed out to him that our stress has definitely gone down and we don't waste nearly as much time in pointless conflict with Emily; meanwhile, we have more energy when we do have the kids and less anxiety over every little issue that might somehow make its way back to us, so our time with them is more enjoyable than it was before. Whatever Jeremy and Emily think, the technique is most definitely doing what we'd hoped it would do on our end. Jeremy simply declaring that it wasn't working - without asking Jeff's feelings on the matter - was just one more example of why the Low-Contact Parenting techniques were a good idea after all.

One of the things that I think was most helpful about the Low-Contact Parenting was that it helped us to recognize when we were crossing the line from "affirming healthy boundaries" to "pushing back and trying to control others." With rules that restrict our email use to only short messages pertaining specifically to the kids themselves and that avoid intentionally provocative language, for instance, we're forced to catch ourselves before we shoot off that obnoxious letter that we secretly hope will smack Emily back into her place and divest her of any delusions she has about our opinion. The rules work because they ask us to turn a critical eye back onto our own behavior and to recognize when we're demanding something that we should probably just not expect given what is and is not within our reasonable ability to control. These rules give us a structure whereby we can learn how to find a balance between our sense of fairness and our need to appreciate our limits. (And I'm using "we" a lot here because it's something Jeff and I have mostly worked on together, but in many ways this is a lot about my own issues.) But all of this only came after we had done the difficult work of establishing boundaries that could safely secure at least a minimum amount of real fairness and equality between Jeff and his ex when it came to the kids - including giving us the legal ground to stand on in order to negotiate for a fair and workable schedule for child custody after our move. If we hadn't done that necessary work of pushing back and establishing boundaries first - especially in Jeff's case, I think - we would have been in a position where an attitude of "it's out of our control" would have left us open to manipulation, exploitation and a certain amount of guilt.

So here I was being hard on myself about how we handled it when, looking back, maybe we did pretty much the best we could given the circumstances. We weren't perfect, but I think we've found some long-term sustainable ways to find that necessary balance and we were able to bring our more unseemly responses into check before they got out of hand and went too far. At least, right now I'm feeling hopeful and optimistic and so that's my present understanding of the situation. I'd love to hear what Jeff thinks of all of this. (He's asleep now - maybe I'll have a chance to talk to him tomorrow about it at some point.) I'm sure his perspective will be a bit different, considering the influences going on in his own chart right now. And maybe I'm completely wrong about this - I'm kind of making it up as I go, really, and he knows more about astrology than I do.

In any case, what began as a day spent contemplating the "primordial mother ocean" has ended up with some pretty startling thoughts about the energies of the moon-as-mother in relation to my Saturn Return. Perhaps leaving the twelfth house and crossing the ascendent means that these issues are be resolved, maybe "coming to light" in a more conscious way now that I'm moving out of the house of mystery and mysticism. I don't know. I hope so. I think it must be a good sign that I just happen to be awake and thinking about this during the time when transiting Saturn is coming into exact aspect with my ascendent. That has to mean something, right? Like my willingness to be awake to this and open to it, to face it instead of just wanting to "go back to sleep" and ignore the lessons. I hope Manannan can help me stay open to the lessons I need to learn, and in the meantime help me to maybe not be quite so hard on myself if things seem like a struggle or I have to work hard. I think it's a really important insight, that coming to terms with our boundaries and limitations (Saturn) is also about learning how to trust in the greater universe. I just read an old tale about Manannan that someone randomly posted online the other day, about a shepherd who is on his way home with his sheep one evening when he runs into Manannan, who teases him about his certainty of the way and pulls down a confusing mist that shrouds his eyes and makes him lose his sheep. After bumbling about in the dark mists all night, Manannan finally relents and lifts the mist, for the shepherd to find that he was only a few yards from home with all his sheep safe and accounted for by his side - and Manannan joking that sometimes he just likes to play a prank for the joy of it. Sometimes I wonder if I'm in a similar position - stumbling around in the mist all night only to finally realize once the veil lifts away that I've been close to home all along and in no real danger. But I also have to wonder if maybe, if I didn't bumbled around quite so much and fret quite so loudly (and maybe sometimes comically), if Manannan wouldn't consider me quite so worth his attention. ;)

So with that thought, I'll call it a night.