I use words to give my truth to those willing to listen—if I can give Saturn transits justice in words, which seem to be too dense a matter to portray my last three to seven darkest years.
Considering Saturn's last retrograde cycle through Sagittarius, I figure writing about it will soothe my bruised soul.
occasionally Uniting with source is demanding.
I'm not going to get into the savage details, mainly because pop reality isn't for anarchists. Mine is a fractal reality, created just for me, to show me where I need a day-pass into my own prison, pinned repeatedly to my now bloody forehead. Met with a maze of discomfort on every possible level, the phrase "comfort zone" was unfortunately where I kept scrambling back toward to hide. No such luck, Saturn has me by the balls. (See the quick version of the myth here: Satrun = Cronos.)
I'm headed for my Saturn 3/4 square
OK. Some lessons learned, I head onto a new path with my baby centaur leg hair shivering in the wind. I know I have to head toward the end of this lane, but I also know that my third-quarter Saturn square, so heavy and silently onerous, rides my new-born back. The square will be exact in two days, so today, I'm engaging this energy by writing to y'all. Thanks for being there, without you I'm not sure what the hell I'd be doing, because my other disciplines are not where Saturn wants me to be. I've tried; I've failed beyond measure.
Did I mention the recent Chiron retrograde cycle hit right on my Chiron Return? Three passes conjunct my Chiron. Sure, why not. How better to drive Saturn's lessons home than to allow this last lunar eclipse its havoc and after-party heaven—taking place exactly conjunct my moon/vertex, ha! I'm going to tell you only one other tidbit, Uranus is exactly conjunct my North Node :)
I haven't exploded yet.
Here's a list of lessons underway and evolving. I must:
- surround myself with people that feel like the Sun, supporting me as if it is a matter of fact and not a duty (goodbye most of my friends)
- love the little bits of myself that are less than ideal: I have conditioned false realities that created an ugly creature, but I must give her the love that was absent and the reason she was created in the first place
- understand that I do not have to take on my ancestors' karma, this thought creates karma of its own
- understand that every motherfucker who tried and nearly destroyed me is my ally, and I must also love them
- show up
- kick ass when I need to (NN in Aries... no more co-dependent bull hockey)
- cry in gratitude when the mood strikes, no stifling for later
Seven points should be enough, lo? and an apt number for a Saturn cycle.
Saturn Is a Genius in Mesh Pinnafore
Within two years, a foal reaches 90% of its full growth. Do you think it's the same for a centaur? If I manage to heed Saturn's call in Capricorn, to get down into serious living the way I want to live, then yes, I believe so. If I continue to mess around with the general fuckery of ignoring my inner maze, then no. It will be history repeating.
Over the last seven years there have been mini-miracles: I spontaneously quit smoking. Same goes for drinking (I still want to drink wine, I am Italian after all, but my body ignites like a Bunsen burner when I do!), and so many other things just fell by the wayside... coffee, eating habits, emotional habits, etc. So something in me is listening to the up-coming Balsamic phase to my Saturn return.
I still have Capricorn & Aquarius (a shout out to the partial solar eclipse in Aquarius! Woot! In honor of the occasion, I'm going blonde, the only color I have yet try...) to contend with, letting Saturn revamp my serious and freak-flag natures, respectively, before he hits Pisces, the only sign standing between me and my Saturn Return in Aries.
I define this last-quarter recipe as self-will meets self-love in healing: this is the combination to my North Node vault, just a stone's throw from my natal Saturn.
Of the three ingredients, self-love is the project manager, steering my perverse little heart toward itself, rocking and whispering lullabies that it never received, for what feels like lifetimes. This writing is self-nourishing for the heart, and I plan to do something like it every day, just to say thanks for its relentless beating all these years. Without that, self-will means nothing and will only express itself by incorrect action, the repercussions to which I always find out a little too late...
So yeah, self-love every time I see a part of me that hasn't received enough of it, that's the plan.
Who's with me?