These days I have one foot on the side of okay and the other dangling somewhere above nowhere near it. When the sun is up there are kids to laugh with, to frustrate, to keep us busy. Putting them to bed is when the vastness of uncertainty starts creeping back in. I appreciate watching a show as an escape from that feeling most nights, but more times than not I lie there once the lights are out knowing I won’t sleep and when I finally do, a little voice outside the door will wake me up. The baby who turns two next month.
Consciously he may know nothing about all this, but he is a wise little being. Perhaps he knows more than we do. He poked my eye accidentally tonight while he was falling asleep and when I said “ouch,” he touched my face and said, “deep breath, Mama.”
If the air was warm, I might walk barefoot in the mud for connection to the Earth. Feeling disconnected from it now, unable to feel its solidity beneath me, so distracted by the darkness of this time and the lack of knowledge about anything else.
There is some hope in believing that once this runs its course, humanity will be stronger. More aware of the importance of connection. To the Earth. To one another. The importance of science and wisdom and nurses. The importance of heeding a warning, respecting boundaries. Stopping to consider someone else.
In the post I wrote last week about Saturn entering Aquarius, I got the date wrong. I read the wrong line in my ephemeris. I was two days off. It ingressed on the 21st. I spent a few hours feeling foolish. I tried to edit the post but had a technical problem with the site I use. Then I took a deep breath and I remembered that these kinds of changes are not instantaneous. We feel shifts of this magnitude before they technically "happen" anyway. I decided to forgive myself and not worry about whether someone would notice my error. It isn’t about me. It’s about the big picture. It’s about zooming out.
Before Saturn fully moves into Aquarius, it retrogrades back into Capricorn in July until December 2020 to retrieve the last of its things and say its final goodbyes. It glimpses one last time the world “as we knew it,” before teaching us what the big picture intends to include. I'm equally unsettled and intrigued by that idea.
As Astrologer, Cassandra Tyndall puts it, the next 3ish months is a lot like "the trailer for the big movie coming out at the end of the year." I love thinking about this and writing about it helps me through days like today. So I'll keep it up.