Friday, June 3, 2011

Horoscope

Lunar eclipse in Gemini on Tuesday and a New Moon in my House of Self-Undoing on Wednesday. Do I really need a house of self-undoing? Why do I even have that? Time, my horoscope says, to identify what beliefs--fears and blockages--are keeping me from my destiny. I contemplate this for a while, feel the whisper of unease as it slinks up my back and curls itself around my ears. Could there be beliefs I hold, of which I am not even cognizant, that stunt my forward motion? That close me off from the abundance and bounty the Universe has for me? I've heard of this. I've even seen it. Probably done it. But then I recognize the habit of self-doubt--familiar indeed. And then I reject it. No.

First of all, there is nothing that is wholly true for me and every single other person born under the zodiac sign of Cancer. Not one thing. I am every moment fulfilling my destiny, moving with force into my future which is happening, as Stoppard's Guildenstern says, now...and now...and now. It is a destiny divinely sketched and loosely governed by what my transcendent self desires to learn in this lifetime.

Out in the ether, I looked at what I could do/be/have in this lifetime. Yes and please, I sighed, and with my hands I built the rough shape of a meaningful existence. Agreed to navigate it as best I could. Nodded to kindred spirits who also agreed--to what we would live, how we would grow, what we would teach each other. All of it loosely contained by my need to evolve as a spirit, I put it together. And yes, my destiny unfolds every second.

I still my bird-like heart and live my knowing. I sing the prayer of my perfect intent and make an origami lotus from this page of words. Words that attempt to define my wildness, to circumscribe my heroic pathways, to delineate the ethereal. No, I say aloud again, because I reject such confinement, such limitation--is it not language like this that plants the seeds of such fear? Don't its authors, with their suggestion, begin the process of germinating those beliefs and thereby grow them where there might have been others, and only to validate themselves. Not prophesy but engenderment, one must finally concede.

Though it would be a comfort, perhaps, if a stranger could tell us how best to approach a particular day or week, and in a weekly mass email at that, ulimtately one's greatest comfort must be drawn from the fact that one is the author of her own destiny, and just by showing up, she begins to manifest it.

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