Observations make it to my little notebook to be returned to later. There are days when I come back to my observations to bring them to the page, and they lift off; other times, they just sit there staring at me. They sit there like a dog that doesn’t like bath time, “Come on, boy,” I say, as I yank on his leash. He won’t budge. It’s as though the moment has gone; whatever it was that I was feeling compelled about—that feeling has left—and when I go to write about it, I simply can’t because whatever little light was there, has vanished. I have the words, the observation, that was interesting to me at the time in my memory; I begin typing—no it’s not working, whatever I felt then, I’m not in that space. Perhaps it needs time to sit—perhaps as the days go on, it will resurface and find its way onto the page.
I’ve come to accept that I’m a dabbler when it comes to certain activities. It sometimes makes me feel bad that I don’t stick with something long enough to become an “expert,” but I’m ok with that because I don’t want to be an expert anyway. A subject that has been dear to me ever since I can remember is Astrology. I have dabbled much, though I still feel a slight reticence, in talking about it. I have several books on the subject, but of course, I have not read them all the way through. It has always been playing in the background and has offered itself as yet another window in which to view myself and the world (and I may share an experience or two along the way in future blogs).
I uninstalled my astrology software off my computer a year ago or so. I don’t know why exactly. A few days ago, I started to re-read a book called Making the Gods Work for You: The Astrological Language of the Psyche by Caroline W. Casey. What I especially appreciate about his book is that she emphasizes the idea that there is nothing to believe; astrology is a language. She says, “We do not need astrology. But it is an exquisite language by which to bring alive all the different facets of our natures.” She also has devised seven “Visionary Activist Principles,” that she describes as “…derived from my own years of serious whimsy and musing, and their spirit suffuses the text of the book.” My two favorite principles are:
Principle 0 (Zero): Believe nothing, entertain possibilities. Therefore everything hereafter is offered playfully.
Principle 7: Creativity comes from the wedding of paradox. “We aspire to be disciplined wild people who are radical traditionalists.”
And how appropriate with the emphasis on astrology as a language, that she would have a chapter titled, Astrological Grammar.
This time I’m hoping to go a little deeper, to try and learn more about the transits (movement and angles created), which has always been a little difficult for me to stay on top of. It’s also great fun and grounds me in my little spot in humanity and emphasizes my connection to all of humanity.
When I began writing, I had no intention of writing about astrology, and didn’t realize it was going to come to the page today. The process itself—and of what comes out and when forever amazes me.