Last week was both my Mayan birthday and my bellybutton birthday, as a fellow Pisces called it. I usually take off the anniversary of my umbilicus clipping, and since it was a Thursday this year, I also took the Friday off. My Mayan birthday was the day before, actually. I had been a bit sluggish last week, and I'm feeling a bit so again. Albany, New York is CCCCCCOOOOOLLLDDDD right now. (19 degrees, feels like 4.)
I have a draft post in reserve about a fantasy conversation I'd like to have at some point for real. But I'm realizing today, that I need to strive for humility. Yesterday was a Pisces New Moon, which I've read is a time to go deep into meditation and fantasy. I have lots of fantasies about community and being a part of a deeply reverent and loving existence. When I remember it, I realize I'm already there. I have grandiose fantasies of "being a resource" for others to turn to. I'm just another fellow who has his own understandings of what is happening around us, who also has the presence of mind to see that none of us has all the answers, and that the off-the-rack notions are so inadequate to the situation as to be laughable, were it not for the people who want to back it up with firepower. (Talk about being imbalanced on the Iron Pentacle. The Point of Power is balanced between Fear and Force. When we're in either of them, we are not right-sized.)
In any case, I've been meditating on the subversiveness of seeking to be right-sized. What an odd turn of affairs that it's become radical to wish to be "a part of." Werden die Wildnesse nie halten?
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