TC and LotS Synchronicities - Bear and Star

During this past week, I've done my best to avoid a lot of the identity-angst in the online Pagan community, mostly by writing here instead of replying to blog posts and social media comment threads where I might become food for trolls. But there has also been a strong current of energy going on that has led me to write a number of in-depth blog posts for Meadowsweet & Myrrh, which will be going up over the next few weeks.

I'm not even sure what prompted it, but today I wandered over to TC to check in and see how things were going (in part because it's my flamekeeping shift)... and I found that this had been going on. Another amazing riot of UGP and SPG centering on the Lady of the Stars/Brighid. It is so awesome to see such a vibrant and open conversation going on about the nature of the gods.

Part of me wants to chime in, but part of me feels like I've been away too long and I don't know if I could really get a foothold anyway. I've never really felt like I "fit in" with the TC folks, and I kinda feel like the reason the LotS group fell apart before was partly my fault (though maybe that's just ego-centric guilt talking). I know that Finn and Aster (and I think Tana) have continued to work together on exploring Brighid/LotS, and when we first got out here to Seattle, I did briefly mention it to Finn, but her response was one that seemed to suggest that it was something they were working on — like, it was "their thing" — and I would be welcome to learn about it when they were ready to share, but they weren't interested in me being involved in that work. I didn't want to intrude, so I just let it go. But part of me did feel a little sad, because I did so very much want to be able to practice with others. Sometimes I worry that I come across as too... keen, and it makes other people feel like I'm shutting them down or they just don't want to share because I'm in the middle of my swirling knife dance and they don't want to stick a limb out and get nicked. ("Keen" like the new young cop on the beat whose overly eager and going to get himself into trouble, so nobody wants to hang around him and the old-timers just shake their heads and brace against the eager energy and wait for the new guy to get some smarts knocked into him. But in the meantime, there's a lot of patient eye-rolling that goes on behind his back.)

Anyway, as a result, I think I struggled a lot with my relationship with Brighid over the past couple years because I didn't really have a community who was willing to support me and work with me in my relationship with her, and so like a lot of other things that I try to do on my own, I start to get really hard on myself and things kind of fall apart and collapse into a pile of frustration and guilt over it. Bless his heart, Jeff is pretty awful when it comes to shared practice and worship, because his gods are very much his personal posse and he always seems to talk about them like they're primarily concerned with him and his life, and there's not really much room in his approach to them that calls for group or community worship. I've really enjoyed our solstice rituals in part because it's my only real chance to have some kind of group practice, and I don't think it's a coincidence that for the past two years, these solstice rituals have mostly focused on stars and such. For last year's ritual, we specifically invoked Brighid in her aspect as Lady of the Stars, the guiding star on the darkest night though also closely related to the rebirth of the new sun. This year, we focused on the bear and her associations with the winter and the darkness of the cave as a place of rest and rebirth.

It's going on half a year since I suddenly stumbled upon a relationship with Artemis, and though she is very much the maiden hunter and moon goddess to me, she is also connected with the fresh wellsprings of cleansing waters, the wild forested mountains, and the bear. In fact, during this time of the year, her bear aspect seems especially pronounced and she even seems to have a bit of a "motherly" aspect to her -- though maybe it's more the midwife vibe, since she is definitely not the "mama bear" personality that is so readily evoked by people like, say, Sarah Palin (ugh). Anyway, the point is, I have this sense of her as a bear goddess, deeply connected both with the fresh waters of springs and rivers (and with the salmon of wisdom, to do a little cross-cultural myth mixing), and also with the stars, since the bear as a sacred animal has always for me been connected with the Great Bear constellation and the starry night sky (in fact, I've often called on the bear in ritual as the "starry bear of midnight").

So this thread over on TC about the Lady of the Stars seems interesting to me, especially since it began with some opening comments about Sulis and other "water related" goddesses. Artemis is, for me, very strongly connected with water, more than Brighid ever was for me, really. And she is very strongly connected with the stars as well.

Yet Brighid, who is still lingering and hasn't gone away, also has a strong connection to the stars. In both cases, there is a wildness there, a primordial feeling... but whereas with Artemis the wildness is quiet, rippling and dark (sometimes sleek like a deer or wolf, sometimes much more bear-like and somewhat lumbering, but swiftly), with Brighid the wildness is roaring like a furnace, dark but fiery like the heart of an intense flame, hot and active. I think of Artemis like the sweat of ecstatic dance or the wild chase of the hunt; whereas Brighid is the sweat of labor, the sweat of the forge and creation. Artemis sings like a bowstring, Brighid sings like a hammer on an anvil.

After writing the post on the bear that will be going up on Meadowsweet this coming Friday, I asked Jeff to read it. I wonder if maybe part of the reason I'm feeling more connected to Artemis, especially in her bear aspect, is because in some ways the bear is a totem for our family. Jeff has always felt very strongly connected to the bear, and his UPG connected it with Apollo but also somewhat with Odin. I have never really had any spark of connection with either Apollo or Odin, and there wasn't much of one with the bear, either, at least not for a long time. But now, it seems like the bear is becoming a powerful presence in our household.

Of course, when I asked Jeff to read my post, his response was that he liked it but that wasn't really what he associated with the bear.

So... still by myself in my worship, I guess. I read about other people getting together to talk about the gods and maybe practice together, even if only informally, and I wonder why I'm always on the wrong side of the UPG/SPG. Like in that meditative journeywork I did a while back, always having to linger just outside the bonfire's circle of light, listening to other people sharing stories but always having to dance to my gods on my own.

Dark Moon Vigil: Nights 2 and 3

I realize I never wrote up about the last two nights of my three night vigil.

Night Two (Friday night, August 17) was a quick and somewhat impromptu meditation quite late (it may have even been technically Saturday morning by the time I got to it, after hanging out with Leah reading Pratchett and watching a couple episodes of the IT Crowd). I didn't do a full formal ritual circle as I'd done the night before, but simply lit Sorta*'s candle and spent some time in silent meditation before drawing a card from the Oracle deck and then spending a bit longer meditating on its meaning.

The card I drew was the Hunter of Gifts — and my half-sober meditations seemed to revolve mostly around the subtle paradox of being a "hunter" of gifts, how this phrase seems to capture the paradox of our relationship with the gods, the delicate blending and balance of work and grace (to put it in more Catholic theological terms), or action and receptivity, effort and acceptance. I have never gone hunting in a literal sense, but I've heard stories about the long hours spent waiting quietly in the woods, moving gently through the trees trying to be unobtrusive as possible, how our ancestors sometimes had to stalk prey for days.... And the sudden appearance of the animal, when it finally arrived, could seem like a gift. A gift is a gift precisely because it is not earned or deserved or exchanged tit-for-tat... it is simply given, freely.

I found this particularly poignant because on this night, I had another object on the altar besides the Oracle deck, the candle and the water (which I drank, as before, to honor and bring into myself the energies of the divination and meditation).... a pendant that is an abstract depiction of a bow and arrow. It seemed a powerful omen that I would draw a card depicting a hunter on this night. (The night before, when I'd drawn the Shaman of Courage card, I'd had a piece of ritual wear that I plan to consecrate to Sorta* for shamanic/journey work on the altar, one that has ties to the deer/stag, which I always invite into the circle with an invocation of its strength and courage.)

Night Three (Saturday, August 18), once again I did a full clearing and blessing of the space while burning incense, lighting the candle with a prayer to Sorta* after some time in meditation. This time, along with the deck, candle, water and incense on the altar, I had another pendant, this one of a bear's paw print, along with Jeff's bear fetish that he allowed me to use. The card I drew during divination was the Shaman of Stars. Using the recorded drumming, I did some journeywork on the meaning of this energy (again, a good synchronicity that on the night I work with the bear's energy, which I've often invoked as "great starry bear" associated with the constellations of Ursa Major and Minor in the northern sky, I would draw a shaman card of the stars)...

Again, I entered into the hollowed cedar and found myself following a spiraling stairwell deep down into the earth. The stairwell itself had close, cool walls of bluish stone studded with "stars" that shone white and gold in the dark and which, on closer look, were various gems and diamonds. At the bottom of the spiral stairwell was a rounded, wooden door on which the image of the Shaman of Stars appeared. I reached out to touch the image, and at my touch the door swung open, giving way to a night scene of green, rolling hills under a star-studded and moonlit sky. I recognized this place as the same hillside I'd seen in meditation more than a year ago when seeking insight from Brigid about her role in my life and my role in hers. The image I'd received then was of me dancing beneath the moon and starlight off alone in ecstasy, while others gathered around a bonfire off in the distance sharing stories and laughing together. I remember feeling a protest in me about how this personal worship, away from the eyes of others, did not seem to me to be what being a "priestess" to the gods was about (I thought instead it was about serving the community and being in the public eye) and how I was chided for that attitude, reminded that tapping into my own deep relationship with the gods was the source of any "priestessing" I would be doing and that I needed to let go of my worry about others' expectations and opinions when it came to that work. This time, there was no one else on the hilltop beneath the starlight.... at least at first. Then I saw a movement, almost like a disturbance in the air, and there was the Shaman of Stars on the hillside, reaching up to pick stars out of the sky like fruit and bringing them down to the earth. He was tall, huge really, and his head seemed to be of an animal nature, with a snout, and he seemed to have antlers, though they were invisible, in which the net of stars would sometimes snag and shiver with the movement of his head so that the stars themselves glimmered. I approached him hesitantly, watching him awhile as he plucked the stars. Then he handed me one — it was cool and light, not heavy, though it was about the size of my fist, with many gleaming facets. I wasn't sure what to do with it, but had the impulse to eat it, so I put it to my mouth. Some rational part of my mind must have objected to eating something hard as a diamond, for I found that I had to crunch it with my teeth, and it shattered into a million tiny shards, like glitter, that I swallowed down with some degree of trepidation and even horror. But as I swallowed, I could feel the shards embedding themselves within me all along my throat and in my chest, sinking into my flesh, passing into my bloodstream and being passed throughout my body until I was shining and glistening on the inside. The heat of my body seemed to melt them somewhat, so that they were wet and almost like liquid. At the drumming call back, I thanked the Shaman of Stars and turned to return through the door and back up the spiral stairwell.

Of all the nights' meditations, this is the one I'm least sure of — the journey work on courage seemed to have some clear and obvious symbolism, the red-mud paint and the dancing naked by the bonfire.... This seemed to be the counterbalance to that night's work, all darkness and starlight and a kind of being anointed on the inside, by eating the star, rather than on the outside with bodypaint like blood. There are also obvious ties back to my work with Brigid, so that I feel that this is also about bringing the gifts of my past relationship with her into this new work that I'm doing. (The Libra-ascendant in me is all ready to be giddy: oooh! a sun goddess and a moon goddess! how balanced! ::headdesk::)

I had intended to complete these vigils with a ritual of integration on the new moon night (Sunday), but decided it wasn't quite the right time. Jeff and I did go out again to Tiger Mountain, where I spent some time in meditation in a small cave among the Talus Rocks, surrounded by rock and root, soil and sky. Obviously, since then, I've had a couple of rough days with inexplicable crankiness — today, though, I'm feeling more enthusiastic and energetic. I'm thinking perhaps that I'll do some work tomorrow night, on the sixth night of the moon, which is also a day of importance to this goddess.

Random discovery yesterday while surfing online: the western (or Pacific) red cedar is not a true cedar, but is actually a member of the cypress family. This is also pretty intriguing, since I've had an intuitive sense of connection with the western red cedar ever since arriving here in Seattle, and it turns out that the cypress is a tree considered sacred to the goddess I am calling Sorta*. Interesting....

Dark Moon Vigil, First Night

Last night's vigil went well. Very simple: candle, incense, glass of water, badger stone and oracle deck. After clearing and blessing the space and inviting in the guardians, I spent time in zazen meditation before lighting the candle with a prayer to Sorta*, then performed some brief divination on the question of what steps do I need to take to prepare myself for a more formal relationship with her (these vigils during the three nights of the dark moon are focused on that question, with hopefully a culminating ritual on the new moon that integrate the previous nights' work). The card I drew was the Shaman of Courage. After this, I did some journeywork, using the 15 minute recording of drumming on my iPod (since Jeff was asleep in the other room, I figured drumming in the middle of the night wouldn't be the best thing to do).

I went to the hollowed Cedar as my entrance to the Otherworlds. Once inside the tree, it seemed to grow much larger, so that I could stand up fully inside it and walk around. On the walls of the inside of the tree off to one side was painted the same figure as depicted on the oracle deck — I reached out to touch it, for it seemed to be shimmering, and it transferred some of its shine to my fingers, feeling slightly wet and sticky, and I smeared this on my body (brow, chest, arms). Then I bent down to mix the shining substance with the earth, which resulted in a gorgeous red mud, and I used this to decorate my body as well. The power was pretty intense at this point, and I spent some time dancing within the tree and just outside nearby where a large fire burned within a circle of stones. I'm out of practice with journeying and was just starting to slip from trance into dream when the callback sounded and I returned to waking consciousness.

I asked Sorta* to help me to integrate the energies of courage and strength as I prepare for a relationship with her, pouring these energies into the glass of clear water, afterwards drinking the water completely. I then closed the ritual space and went to bed. It seemed to me that I had some pretty intense dream, but I woke up feeling deeply rested and refreshed.

All in all a very simple ritual, but powerful, with lingering effects.

I have another vigil tonight, though it will probably be quite late since we're hanging out with Leah and having a Reading Night again (yay, Pratchett!).

Sorta

This evening during dinner, it suddenly struck me that now that we're in Seattle, my Saturn-Pluto conjunction isn't the only thing in my astrological chart to have shifted (away from a square with my midheaven, thank the gods!).

My moon has moved from the dark depths of the mysterious and inscrutable 12th House into the 1st House, house of manifestation, self-expression, obvious appearances and the physical body ("identity in action," as Arroyo describes it).

Which might explain, or at least contribute to, why a sorta-moon goddess has suddenly asserted herself in my life.

Of course, she's not exactly a moon goddess, not really. She is only sort of a moon goddess, just as she is sorta many things, sorta this, sorta that.

I've been pondering a way of referring to her in public posts like this without having to name her specifically, since I'm trying out this whole thing of not giving a shit what other people think of our relationship (and not wanting to rely on the italicized her, lest things get too hot and heavy in the syntax department). I feel like "Sorta" may just be a very good nickname.

With all respect, reverence and due deference. (I think she's cool with it.)

Post-Ritual Drag (And Moontide Blues)

It's becoming increasingly obvious to me that one area I need to focus on in my spiritual practice is working to regulate my energy. This is probably a combination of easing up on myself when I'm working too hard, and finding both mundane and magical ways of maintaining my energy levels through low periods.

And I do mean periods. I had been hoping to perform last night's protection ritual earlier in the week, riding the tide of the just-past-full moon, but I was slammed by my usual 2-to-3-day phase of intense pain and complete exhaustion that occurs every month. Every month. Recently, I had hoped perhaps I could somehow manage to avoid it. I've been eating better and exercising more routinely, and my energy levels have not just been higher, but downright awesome. Last month's moodtides laid me low, but it was in the wake of the custody hearing and a week with my parents, so I naturally attributed the energy lag to the stress, and within a day or two I was back on my feet. This month, I was disappointed and frustrated to find that all that awesome energy and vitality I'd been feeling for the last few weeks suddenly fled as quickly as usual, leaving me a sack of meat, fat and bones barely able to raise myself up in bed, let alone change out of pajamas and get my shit together.

For anyone (all two of you) reading this and wondering: it is extremely frustrating and embarrassing to have a regularly scheduled illness every month that slams you in the stomach like clockwork, especially when you're as intense and serious-minded as I am, and especially in a culture in which Successful, Serious People are supposed to be On the Ball all the time. Promises that birth control would help mitigate symptoms turned out to be empty promises, just compounding my usual fatigue and pain with morning sickness.

Yesterday, my energy was finally climbing back up to usual levels, and so Jeff and I dove into ritual. This morning, my energy was pretty good (I wrote that blog post, didn't I? yes I did, while walking on the treadmill).

Now, Jeff is on his way home, biking seven miles like a boss, and I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open. Physical sensations include: a headache that stretches across my temples, tension in my neck, eyes that feel tired and dry, muscles that feel flabby and somewhat tingly, feet that feel cold (my whole body generally feels cold), and an overall feeling of my old bag of flesh and bones being too heavy to shift around properly and hold steady. This is par for the course after a period, but it feels as though the effects were prolonged this month because of the energy work I did last night.

So..... items for the to-do list:
• Work on evening out my energy levels through the month so that, for the sake of slightly calmer highs, I don't find myself at such disruptively and frustratingly low lows.
• Work on post-ritual energy reboot to keep me grounded and healthy.

I really am not a witch. I really dislike being a female body sometimes, and my euphemistic moontides have been a bitch for most of my life. This is not oh-isn't-it-magical-and-special-to-be-a-woman time. Puberty was not a blessing. Menopause just might be. But let's take things one step at a time. I celebrate the sun. That's why I'm a Druid. But my fiery goddess has put me on hold for a little while and counseled me to get my act together and find a better balance, because otherwise she's fed up with me and my burn out.

So. Sorta-moon goddess, you're up. Let's do this thing. You aid women in labor, and this monthly round of gut-punching pain and bloodloss feels close enough to me. Let's say you and me work this out.

First things first:
• I'm going to make a list of activities that help me regenerate and re-energize, and see if I can get some healthy habits going. Same goes for foods.
• I'm going to make a list of activities and foods that deplete my energy and resources, and try to do better at avoiding them.
• I'm going to turn my morning meditations towards more deliberate energy work.
• I'm going to keep doing Tai Chi like a motherfucking KLINGON.
• I'm going to ask for help. Even if it kills me.

Waning Moon Spell of Protection

Jeff and I went to Carkeek just after sunset last night to perform a banishing and binding spell of protection to guard the kids from harm and sever our ties from E and her toxic melodrama influence.

I think, all told, the work went very well. We found an out-of-the-way place just off the path by the creek (not Piper's Creek, but another, smaller one that runs through the northern end of the park) and settled ourselves beneath what was likely a douglas fir (though it was hard to tell in the dim twilight).

I won't share the details of the ritual itself, since they are private and specific, but the general format was pretty straightforward: declaring peace to the four directions, grounding in the three realms, weaving a nemeton of the three elements, inviting the guardians of the directions to join us and strengthen our work... "lighting" the central candle to mark the center and open the gateway (since we were in a city park where fires are not permitted, plus nestled in amongst dry branches and leaves, we used an LED candle). For the first time, I formally invited Her to attend and aid us; it seemed appropriate, since she is a Protector of Children (and young women in particular), as well as a fierce guardian of the borders. Her energy seemed ideal for a work of magic meant to strengthen and guard healthy boundaries that have been repeatedly violated and transgressed. I poured an offering of white wine to her in thanks. (Note to self: the smell of alcohol permeated the circle for the rest of the work, since we weren't burning any candles or incense that might have helped to dissipate it, and since alcohol is also not permitted in city parks technically, it made me a bit paranoid, but we had no disruptions, and we were out late enough and in a secluded part of the park so that not once did we even have a curious dog-walker pass — so, no harm no foul.)

After this opening and building of energy and allies, we settled down to the main work, which consisted of some good old reliable sympathetic magic, drawing a protective circle around the gathered locks of hair from the kids that Jeff got from them before he dropped them off at their mom's, as well as locks from both Jeff and myself. We used stones, salt, blessed water, herbs for strength and flower petals to draw the circle, which shone dimly in the twilight against the dark earth. With each drawing of the circle, we asked for a blessing of protection for our family. Then, we drew a triangle of salt outside the circle and placed a symbol of E into it (a piece of weaving she'd done years ago — Jeff threw the rest of it out before we began the ritual). We named the triangle as a space of protection and binding, so that we could address our grievances to her in safety. After we each spoke, we declared that she could not exert her will over us or harm us through will, word or deed, that we would no longer allow her to create unnecessary strife in our lives and that she was bound against harming the children, taking out her issues and insecurities on them or burdening them with guilt or shame. We then affirmed that her love and care for the children as their mother was welcome and that we had no wish to interfere, as long as her relationship with them strengthened and supported them on their path. We surrounded both the protective circle and the binding triangle with a ring of flower petals, invoking the love that weaves together the universe and binds us all to one another as equals through respect and good intention.

After this, I did some simple knot magic, taking a cord of twine for each of the kids and tying four knots in each symbolizing the various blessings we'd drawn around them in the circle. Later today, I'll find little trinkets for each of them to tie up the ends, and complete the charms so that we can send them to the kids.

After all this was done, we then buried the piece of E's weaving and dispersed the triangle. We closed the ritual with a prayer for peace, thanked the goddess who'd attended, thanked and bid farewell to the guardians of the directions, extinguished the candle (ie turned it off — yay LED!) and un-wove the circle of the three elements, allowing any remaining energy to bless the place of our working.

Since my leg was massively asleep by the time we'd finished because of the way I'd been sitting, we sat a little while afterwards in silence, enjoying the night, and then spoke a little about how the ritual had gone. We'd tried a different approach this time, since Jeff does not have much experience with ritual and I'm finding that the physical act of ritual are far more effective for me than sitting still and trying to visualize — my energy work is much more of a visceral, kinesthetic thing than a visual thing. So after I did the opening prayers and invocations from memory, I had Jeff read the prayers from our cheat-sheet (ie iPhone, the newbie ritualist's best friend) as I performed the various actions. This seemed to work out really well for both of us. I didn't have to worry about memorizing words or stumbling over prayers as I worked, so I could concentrate on directing my energy into the physical actions; and Jeff said afterwards that, with his Zen background, he's not big into the ritual itself, but as a linguist and writer he finds words themselves incredibly powerful, and bringing voice to the words and feeling them embodied and manifest through his own body and breath, as a deeply powerful experience that let him feel involved in a way that simply listening to a recitation usually doesn't. He said he could feel the protective strength of the earth beneath us, and I think doing the Three Realms working and grounding at the beginning of the ritual (as well as the few moments of centering and silence we took before starting the work) was incredibly helpful in that respect.

In general, I'm feeling refreshed and very glad to have the thing over and done with. I feel like this was exactly the right time for such work, and the way is clearer and more open now in a way that it wasn't before. I feel incredibly grateful for the work and the energy.

Highlights from the Ritual

"Okay.... seriously, I know his hair is in here somewhere."

"It's holy water, of course it smells minty fresh."

"Deep in the still center of my being, may I find peace—"noise of massive jet flying overhead ".....I said, deep in the still center of my being..."

"Wait, I lost my sandal. Where'd it go? Use your iPhone, can you see it? It's in the bush there somewhere. I knew I should have gone barefoot..."

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.

Saturn Return: A Schedule

Saturn will come full circle and cross the place it occupied in the sky at the time of my birth three times within the next two years:

• December 25, 2011
• March 24, 2012 (Saturn in retrograde)
• September 16, 2012

A Schedule of Saturn Return Work

• Meditation Rites when the Moon conjuncts Saturn.
  Roughly once or twice a month for the next two years, I will hold meditation rites when the moon comes into conjunction with Saturn as it circles the zodiac. For most of this time, it will come into conjunction with Saturn itself, and the placement of Saturn in my natal chart, on different days or at different times within the same day. As Saturn approaches the point when it has come full circle within my own chart, these times will grow closer together. Because my moon is in my twelfth house, the house of mysticism, union, creativity and vision, my emotions may often be mysterious and unfathomable to me yet also provide me with insight and intuition that I do well to listen to and follow. For this reason, the moon may be an appropriate guide to connecting with the energies of my Saturn Return in an intuitive, creative way that will lead to healthy, helpful growth and integration.
• Weekly Journaling on Saturn Return Topics.
  Starting in mid-October, for a year I will spend time each week (on Saturday) to journal about topics specifically relating to my Saturn Return and its energies and influences. I will continue this weekly journaling for a year, taking me just a month beyond my third and final Saturn Return.
• Miscellaneous and Spontaneous Work.
  As time passes over the next two years, I will be attending carefully to the themes and messages I receive through my meditative and journaling work. I may decide to include other ritual work or other forms of creative work inspired by these practices, as well as incorporating Saturn Return work into seasonal holy days and other significant occasions.

Questions and Themes for Journaling

• Do you feel like your life is on track?
• Where do you feel pressured, disciplined, restrained?
• Are there authority figures that you distrust, or who restrain you more than is healthy?
• Where do you desire more freedom? Who or what is holding you back?
• Are you making a bad bargain, paying too high a price for something you don't really need?
• What does it mean to have Saturn in Libra?
• What does it mean to have Saturn in the First House?
• What does it mean to have Saturn conjunct Pluto?

Moon Conjunct Saturn: Calendar

• Febuary 21, 2011
• March 20, 2011
• April 16, 2011
• May 14 and 15, 2011
• June 10 and 11, 2011
• July 7 and 8, 2011
• August 4 (morning and evening), 2011
• September 28 (early morning and afternoon), 2011
• October 24 (evening and night), 2011
• November 23, 2011
• December 19, 2011

SATURN RETURN December 25, 2011

• January 16, 2012
• February 12, 2012
• March 11, 2012

SATURN RETURN, retrograde March 24, 2012

• April 7, 2012
• May 5, 2012
• June 1, 2012
• June 28, 2012
• July 26, 2012
• August 22, 2012

SATURN RETURN, September 16, 2012

• September 18, 2012
• October 15, 2012
• November 12, 2012
• December 9, 2012

Diary

Days of Note: Moon Conjunct Saturn

Sun: pisces (water/mutable), 7:06am - 6:02pm
Moon: waning gibbous, libra (air/cardinal)
Earth: cold again, the temperature falling all day, so that steady, pleasant rain in the afternoon gave way to thick, fluffy snow, and then eventually to crystalline glitter in the air that lays on thick over night



Spent most of today working and fighting cravings for soda and chocolate, a bit of a set back after this past week full of chocolate Valentine's Day candy, but by this evening I felt more energetic and light, not so bogged down by heavy foods my body has to work too hard to digest and integrate.

Last night, I posted a request on the TC forum for some advice and insight regarding the strange dream of the sea god that I had the night before. Even sharing as little as I did, I found myself nervous about what kind of response I might get. Luckily, many folks have responded with very helpful and insightful suggestions — and of course, most insightful of all is to ask Him (and ask Her, ask Brigid as well) to explore and deepen the relationship, if that's how I want to pursue this.

So that's what I plan to do, and to begin this process tonight, in fact. Jeff and I, the day before this dream, had worked out a plan for ways to work with my upcoming Saturn Return, and I think that, at least for now, I'm going to explore this relationship with this sea god in conjunction with that. My first meditation rite will be tonight. I wanted to make a quick note here, to note the usual diary-appropriate information, before moving on to that work.

Savanah's Year: Gwyar of Earth, Weeks 1 & 2

I've gotten into the bad habit of not updating immediately after my lesson with Savanah, so this is my attempt to remedy that and do better in the future.

Our last lesson with Savanah before today's was almost two weeks ago, on Monday, December 20, during the week we had the kids for the winter solstice. This lesson involved a lot of review of her previous work, including finally getting to see the pictures she'd drawn for the four elements (earth, air, fire and water) and three Druidic aspects (calas, gwyar and nwyfre) and discussing with her the thought she put into what she decided to draw.

Then, we moved on to introduce the next "month" of lessons (although these are taking longer than a month because of scheduling, I hope to get back on track soon now that we're through the holidays — not every month, for instance, will have a "review" week). This month we're working with Gwyar of Earth: still exploring the basics of Druidic belief and practice (needed for a solid foundation and grounding, represented by the element of earth), but moving on to discussions about connection, relationship, communication, exchange, change and flow (as represented by gwyar). During the first week's lesson of the new month, we explored the idea of the altar (and to a lesser extent, the shrine) as a place of connection and communication with Spirit and the gods and beings we have relationships with, as well as a place where we might get a clearer connection to our own deeper, truer selves. We talked with her about the difference between a shrine (as a kind of three dimensional work of art that is dedicated in honor of a person, being, spirit or deity) and an altar (as a "working space" where we can engage with sacred objects and perform ritual actions that help us to communicate with others or ourselves, or bring about a change in our relationships).

A great deal of the Week 1 lesson was devoted to a show-and-tell session, with Jeff and I showing her different sacred objects and ritual tools that can be kept on and used at the altar. The week before, we'd shown her Jeff's travel altar as part of our step-by-step work with the tarot cards; this week, I unpacked my own travel altar to show her the various tools and symbolic objects and how they could be combined or used in different ways. We showed her several tools, including both my wand and athame. We talked about the use of burning candles or incense and the pouring of libations as ways of making offerings, sending prayers or expressing our gratitude for the gods (reminding her of the offerings we make during the Fire Festival rites in the backyard, when we scatter bird seed as an offering to the land, and toss silver coins into a small blue bowl as an offering to the water or sea, while burning incense and flicking blessed water into the flame of a candle as an offering to the sky and the heavens with their gods). We showed her some of the several idols and images of deities that we have about the house, including a plaque dedicated to Odin, the statues to the mother goddess (including the one we placed in the kids' room), and the "symbolic" star-fire bowl and candle that I use as my representation of Brigid. All in all, she seemed very engaged with the show-and-tell, with lots of questions about the different objects and their uses and meanings. I think Jeff and I were both pleased with how things went.

We also changed our approach to the weekly assignments we're giving to her. I'm attempting to make the questions more directed, and connected to the conversations we have during the lesson itself. This way, it involves more of her listening and remembering than having to come up with answers and ideas on the spot — hopefully, that'll give her more confidence in writing her answers and also more incentive to listen carefully and think about our conversations during the lessons themselves, knowing she'll have to write about them later. We're also trying to incorporate more "activities" and hands-on stuff, since that seems to be her strong suit and something that really engages her interest (more so than the writing, at least). So for Week 1 of Gwyar of Earth, we gave her the assignment of finding a space where she can set up a small altar and spend some time there on a regular basis. We also asked her to find four objects, one for each of the four elements, to place on her altar; or to brainstorm ideas for what kinds of objects she might want to have if she couldn't find any.

This assignment went really well, I think, although both Jeff and I were worried that in a household of so many siblings (and so much junk and mess) she might not be able to find a space to be "just hers" that would be undisturbed by others. Happily, she was able to clear a space on the bookcase that sits right by her bed, so that she can keep her altar items there. Unprompted, she brought with her this week the four objects she chose to be on her altar: for fire, a small glass candle holder in the shape of a six-pointed star; for earth, a shiny black rock she found (that she thinks may be a volcanic rock); for water, an oyster shell that can hold water like a cup; and for air (one she had the most difficulty with), an acorn cap, because, as she explained, acorns grow high up in oak trees and you can use acorn caps to whistle by blowing through them. I was just so thrilled and impressed by this kind of creative thinking, especially for the acorn cap for air. The fact that she was able to find her own associations for the elements is really great, and means (I hope, anyway) that she is getting something out of these lessons even if she's not a huge fan of the journaling. I found a purple miniature candle to fit in her holder and we lit it during this week's lesson. She also took a few pictures of the items (and later, I took a few more, since some of hers came out blurry because of camera settings being off).

One thing I forgot to mention — another change we made is the way we begin lessons. During the Calas of Earth month, we'd begun lessons by allowing Savanah to light a red candle and then blowing it out at the end. Starting with the first week of Gwyar of Earth, we're adding to this a period of ten minutes at the beginning of the lesson when we sit and listen to a song and then spend the remaining time in silence. The plan is to gradually transition into a full-blown ritual to open and close the lesson — beginning with the candle, then introducing the use of song as a way of setting the mood and quieting the mind, then eventually introducing simple breathing and meditative practice itself (during the Nwyfre of Earth month). During later months, we may incorporate the use of prayer or even build up to some small magical ritual (though Jeff and I still have to talk about whether or not we're going to introduce her to full-blown spellcrafting, or wait until she's older). This technique has worked really well for the past two lessons, and gives us some time to just sit quietly and find our center. The first week we did this, Savanah talked about her experience of watching the candle flame, and how it slowly began to appear as though it were dancing in time with the music. So again, I think that's an encouraging sign that she is connecting to the energies we're dealing with and learning to trust her intuition and imagination when it comes to her relationship with the world around her.

This lesson, Week 2, we began by going over her work from the previous lesson — starting with her altar objects and then going briefly over the review questions about altar and shrines. She didn't journal much in response to the questions, so we had to prompt her again this week and remind her (and Jeff, who doesn't do much ritual work with altars) what their various uses can be. Then Jeff took the lead on this week's lesson (because I was exhausted), and talked about the moon and its cycles. We spent some time talking about the physical attributes of the moon as an astronomical object in space, revolving around the sun. We explained about the different phases of the moon and looked at a video that demonstrated them in diagram form. We also talked about the affect that the moon (and sun) had on the ocean tides. Most of this Savanah already knew, but it was a good refresher. Jeff introduced the idea of the "triple goddess aspects" of maiden, mother and crone that's really common in Wicca, and we spent some time talking about the crone as a symbol of inner wisdom and power and personal freedom, and how the figure of the "old, ugly woman" has changed as our society has moved away from patriarchy and towards equality. We also did a slide show of pictures of the moon and various images associated with it (including the well-known full moon surrounded by two crescents), as well as some pictures of moon goddesses from different cultures.

After this, we spent some more time talking about the moon and its connection to mystery and the unknown, and its relationship with our emotions, feelings and unconscious mind. We talked about the changing faces of the moon as a reflection of our own changing moods, and how we do not always know why we feel the way we do. This connects us to mystery — just like we do not know the deepest secrets of the ocean, even though the sea is the source of all life on this planet, and just as we can never see the "dark side" of the moon because it always faces away from us. We talked with Savanah about her own moods and emotions and how sometimes things her siblings do might bother her even if there's nothing inherently annoying about them. We discussed with her the idea that cultivating a relationship with the moon can help her learn how to respect and honor her own emotions and their sometimes mysterious source, and be able to tell when she needs to listen to them, and when she needs to understand that just because she feels a certain way doesn't mean it's others who are wrong or bad or causing her to feel that way (it could be that her emotions are arising from within herself).

For her assignment for the coming week (or two weeks), we've asked her to journal daily about her moods and emotions, just jotting down a word or two to describe how she feels. We also asked her to make a note of when the new and full moons are for this month, and to brainstorm some names that she might give the moon based on the seasons and changes in the land and her relationship to both the moon and the earth. I also made up a diagram of the moon revolving around the earth, which we've asked her to label with the names of the different phases (and, if she can remember, when the moon rises relative to the sun for each phase). Her task for the week is to find an object (or come up with some ideas for an object) to put on her altar that will represent the moon, and then to spend time at her altar through the week sitting quietly, praying or reading or drawing or engaging with and handling the objects she's chosen, to get used to being in that space and building a relationship with it and her altar. We'll see how she does with that. In the meantime, I'm going to prepare more thoroughly for her next lesson on the cycles of the season and the various holy days and festivals that mark the turning of the year.

The Astrology of Me, New Year Edition

More insight from the stars about the coming year. Jeff says during 2011, Jupiter and Uranus move into my 6th House (Jupiter and Uranus do funky things for everyone this coming year, bringing intense energies with their conjunction, but which house they appear in will depend on each person's individual natal chart). What does this mean? Jeff explains:

Jupiter is kingship, power, will; Uranus is trickster, surprise, sudden collapse, anti-heirarchy.  The two together are like a trickster-king.  So imagine this trickster-king moving into your life in the realm of health, work, daily routine, etc. It could manifest in many different ways.

For Jeff, Jupiter and Uranus will be doing their star-studded dance in his 3rd house, "which is communications and mental activity. It might be a super-big project at work, some new relationship I [Jeff] have to navigate, or something."



He also sent me a link to a fascinating article, in which the author, Dana Gerhardt, discusses the effects of the 6th house in more detail. She writes:

The 6th refers to daily time and how we spend it. Here most of us defer to the cultural norm—which is to do time mechanically. We fill it with productive activity: We work. Most of us have no choice. This could indeed be the “bad fortune” the ancients were talking about! However, most of us would admit that working is not entirely bad. There is something in us that likes a regular structure in our days. Studies have shown that the most depressed individuals are not the ones who have nine-to-five jobs, but the ones who don't—the unemployed, the infirm, the retired—those who have nowhere to go and nothing to do. The ancients said that action-oriented Mars “joys” in this house. Our 6th house likes to be in motion.

Gerhardt goes on to explore how we can cope with and compensate for the heightened energies of the 6th house:

Merriman was suggesting that to balance the 6th, we should look to its opposing house, the 12th. This is the house belonging to the invisible world. It is Neptune’s territory. To keep Mercury’s efficiency in proper measure, we can evoke more Neptune—imagination, spirituality, the unconsciousness of dream. Just as our dreams carry images from our days, we might allow our days to remember images from our dreams.

Jung teaches there are two roots to psychological disease: the gods we forget to honor and the gods we overdo. Too much of Mercury’s “doing” without Neptune’s “floating in the empty spaces” makes "stress" a common 6th house syndrome. When Neptune is forgotten, this uninvited and quietly vengeful guest lies in wait, to throw us under his spell. Driving the freeway home, we suffer brief comas, waking up just minutes before the off-ramp arrives. We forget why we opened the refrigerator or entered the bedroom. Our bodies working like efficient machines, we go numb to the day. When we lose touch with our present, we fall prey to addictions. It's dishonored Neptune who puts the drink, the cigarette, the remote control in our hands.

She continues:

What I discovered was that most people move through the day in the style of their Ascendant. I’ve got Virgo rising, which means I adore planning, making schedules and lists. "An hour for Tibetan prayers, another for reading, then onto my work," I’ll tell myself. But then there are phone calls, emails to answer, the electrician who doesn’t come when he said he would. Aquarius is on my 6th house cusp. Aquarius more accurately describes the unpredictable rhythms that I meet. Despite my best intentions, my Virgo plans usually break down. If the chart describes one’s daily rhythm, its formula goes more like this: The Ascendant shows how you want the day to happen. The 6th describes how it actually does.

My Ascendant is in Libra, and my 6th house edge is in Aries. When I asked Jeff what this might mean for me, he explained that, "This means you want a measured day, balanced energies and all; but what you get is a day full of passion and energy that may sometimes careen out of control." That does sound like me. When I asked him about balancing my 6th house with my 12th, he continued:

You have a Libra 12th, with the Moon in it.  This means that your emotions often come from somewhere you can't identify - they arise and disappear rather mysteriously - but they're not random; they're direct connections with Spirit, which knows more about what's going on than you do.

He says that I tend to follow Gerhardt's advice quite well already. I may begin the day with a plan, but I hold it loosely and if emotionally I feel "called" to some other work, I usually follow that leading and go. Still, this has become an increasing struggle for me lately, and in some ways it's refreshing to have this interpretation of astrological events serving as both an affirmation of the patterns I've been perceiving, and a reminder about how best to handle these greater currents sweeping through my life.



How long can I expect this to go on? Jeff tells me:

Right now they're slowly approaching Aries. They're still in Pisces, but they're close to your 6th house and almost conjunct, so - yes, you should already be feeling the effects.

It's something rather long-term. Jupiter will be in your 6th house for about a year, and Uranus for several years. There will probably be a lot of the energy this year, especially in the spring, and then as Jupiter moves on past Uranus things will settle down.

More specifically:

Jupiter enters your 6th house on Feb 2nd.  Uranus will enter your 6th house right around the middle of April.  ...  Actually, now that I look at the actual dates, it looks like the influence is probably strongest very soon:  Tuesday of next week!  After that, Jupiter moves very fast and leaves Uranus behind, and by May Jupiter is already on to your 7th house.  So...  as far as Jupiter is concerned, not such a long-term thing.

Uranus will stick around for a few years, but its main effect will just be to make your daily schedule unpredictable.  Uranus in the 6th house can indicate major health issues, but usually only in people who have other major problems (like high stress or whatever).

Brigid, Lady of the Stars: The Astrology of Me

Sun Sign (influences one's self-perception and sense of selfhood)

• Gemini (air/mutable) — The sign of the twins, Gemini sun signs tend to be quick, changeable, mercurial in nature. Their curiosity is powerful, and they often seek out those who will stimulate them intellectually while also being able to keep up with their quick wit and sense of the absurd. Because of their ability to detach from themselves and see both sides of the situation, they can often be quite objective in their analysis of a situation. Gemini sun signs tend to be communicative and bright, enjoying the companionship that arises from good conversation and lively debate.
• Sun in the Ninth House — The basic drive when the sun is in the ninth house is for understanding and self-expansion, which can express itself in a concern for global or world affairs, a love of travel, an interest in higher education, and a desire to study religion, philosophy and mysticism.

Moon Sign (influences one's subconscious and emotional center)

• Libra (air/cardinal) — The light, airy quality of a Libran Moon can be refreshing and enjoyable. Libran Moons place a strong value on relationship and partnership, and also carry with them a deep sense of fairness, balance and justice. They also possess an artistic side and high aesthetic standards.
• Moon in the Twelfth House — Moon in the twelfth house indicates a private person with a love of introspection and a compassionate, charitable side, yet someone who sometimes requires withdrawal or retreat from the busyness of the world in order to refresh.

Ascendant (influences first impressions and indicates a starting point)

• Libra (air/cardinal) — Libra Rising gives a first impression of being a natural "people person," someone who is nice, pleasant, fair-minded, charming and well-liked. Aesthetics plays an important role, as does a heightened sensitivity to the arts and music, and this may express itself also in seeking a sense of harmony rather than discord, and civility and respect rather than vulgarity or rudeness.
• Saturn Conjunct Ascendant — Conservative and self-disciplined, someone with Saturn conjunct their ascendant is likely to be reserved and cautious, perhaps due to anxieties about their self-worth (especially earlier in life). The seriousness and maturity of Saturn shines through even at an early age, despite lingering self-doubts, and with deepening maturity may bring a sense of agelessness that has the authority of truth and wisdom behind it.
• Pluto Conjunct Ascendant — Pluto conjunct the Ascendant tends to express itself through a powerful, insightful and intense personality, deeply private and reserved in some ways while also able to grasp some of the deeper secrets of others. The intensity of this conjunction indicates a person willing to go all-out (or all-in) in their commitments and endeavors.