" ... Reality is morphing, and the details are being flushed out into the open for all to see. The mood is subtle but contains a treasure trove of magic that we’ve amassed over time. It’s a pocket of real-life fairy dust. Our eyes are adjusting as Jupiter turns on the lights and puts the music on blast.. Saturday night into early Sunday, the Moon squares Uranus and sextiles Chiron. Venus in Sagittarius trines Uranus and squares Chiron. Learn from the discomfort and put it behind you. Feel forward into what you can make of it going into the future. Make the most of what it will mean in positive terms in the bigger picture. " - Satori
"February 4th’s new moon in Aquarius presents a fantastic opportunity to break free. The Sun and Moon are conjunct Mercury. This stellium sextiles Mars in Aries and Jupiter in Sagittarius. If you want to be stupid at this time, you’re going have to actually work at it..." - Elsa
"There's no set date for Chinese New Year. According to the Lunar calendar, the Spring Festival is on January 1st and lasts until the 15th (the full moon). Unlike western holidays such as Thanksgiving or Christmas, when you try to calculate it with the solar (Gregorian) calendar, the date is all over the place. Chinese New Year ranges from January 21 to February 20. In 2019, it occurs on February 5th. For a full list of dates and events check out our Chinese New Year calendar.
" The Pig is the twelfth of all zodiac animals...The Pig is also associated with the Earthly Branch (地支—dì zhī) hài (亥), and the hours 9–11 in the night. In terms of yin and yang (阴阳—yīn yáng), the Pig is yin. In Chinese culture, pigs are the symbol of wealth.
Pigs might not stand out in a crowd. But they are very realistic. Others may be all talk and no action. Pigs are the opposite.
Though not wasteful spenders, they will let themselves enjoy life. They love entertainment and will occasionally treat themselves. They are a bit materialistic, but this is motivation for them to work hard. Being able to hold solid objects in their hands gives them security..." Year of the Pig
Beatrix Potter is one of my all-time heroines. For so many reasons I admire and aspire to be like Beatrix though her real-life could not have been more different than mine. Perhaps one of the only tangible similarities we share is that of being a girl born on an island, on this Island Earth. What conjuncts Beatrix to me is her art: her writing and her love of the natural world. Preservation of nature in as many ways as possible.
The other night we watched one of our favorite Beatrix Potter films, Miss Potter. It is that same film on a DVD which inspired me and infused me with the dream that Pete and I could build a new life from a small golden wagon.
While Pete measured, sawed, aligned, bolted and handled the physical creation of Vardo for Two, I imagined what inner resources (the spirit, the dream, the astrology, the prayers) we needed to move through the obstacles. The imagery and the dialogue captured in the grooves of plastic on a small circular disc was the company I needed to "Learn from the discomfort and put it behind you. Feel forward into what you can make of it going into the future. Make the most of what it will mean in positive terms in the bigger picture, " as Satori describes in her Weekend Forecast for this point in time.
Patterns and potential repeat themselves, nature is like that. Operating more in spirals rather than in circles or straight lines, I've come to experience these spirals and reach for the many possibilities as I translate. Similar patterns and relationships show up as time passes, but, they, the patterns and people are not precisely the same. Instead they are familiar, and I am familiar ... but not the same. I have aged, evolved, lived more life. In countless ways, that is really what my writing is all about, translation.
Yesterday we took one of our classic road trips: spurred by inspiration bred of feeling it was right more than logically considering how much it would take for us to go somewhere ... north this time. One of our favorite ways to describe these trips is meandering, zigzagging, twisting, curving; not in any particular rush because really any place could do, and nowhere didn't enter the destination.
What we both agreed on was we needed space, breathing room, to deal with the latest revelations and morphing realities.We need to move from this Prairie Front, but the where is not yet clear. What is clear is that any clinging to damage, like dead wood on an otherwise vitally alive tree, is better cut away.
So Pete drove Scout the Subaru in a northerly direction and in the movement our clinging to the internal 'dead wood' made itself present in minor and exaggerated irritation.
"Which way do we go on Ft. Nugget Road?" We'd already taken the wrong way on at least two other roads which aren't our usual straight and familiar paths. So I held my tongue on a response and eventually we found our way to West Beach Road where our friends are remodeling their beach cottage.
The once very small kit home is now probably double in size, includes a wonderful man cave for Martin to see the wetlands in the east, as well as sunrise and moonrise. The slow and mindfully redesigned home is now a sweet and comforting blue with an undercoating of yellow that softened the tone like only water can.
We tooted the horn to let our friends know we were passing, and felt that old-school sense of connectivity that began for both Pete and me when we remember that signature sort of activity; cars were still a novelty and horns had very distinctive 'voices' played by unique characters.
It helps, I think, to touch on simple talismans of familiar as the new is yet to come. It helps also when I don't cling too desperately to those talismans, giving the magic breathing room of its own; just as I would like for myself.
While we meandered and lost our way temporarily on those crossroads, we happened upon a wonderful working farm with sheep, goats and pigs doing what they do. The pigs -- two of them, were big and beautiful and so much like those in the movie Miss Potter. A tiny serendipitous moment. An occasion of glee. A synapse of recognition.
Meandering allows for happening upon miracles. We love that!
Just before we reached our final stop on our meandering Saturday Ground Hog Day, we met up with a good friend in Mt. Vernon. Lizzie and I met a dozen years ago at one of those crossroad times. It was she who housed me (in her Anacortes home) when I became most aware that something was drastically changing in my body. From Lizzie's Anacortes home, Pete and I packed up the Subaru named Scout, and headed south for San Sebastapol, California to learn how to design and build the Golden Wagon.
We have stayed friends and grown as beings because of this friendship. Shared valuable insights over the years asking and chewing on questions like: What's a good neighbor? Is it possible and preferable to share space? Is a little enough? Doing service being of service ... what does it look like? So many ways to honor 'God'; There's a remedy for believing you need to be an individual... We trust one another, and build on that trust.
Both Pete and I have found such generosity of spirit and practical support from this friend. And reciprocate by being who we are. Yesterday's connection with Lizzie added to our well of being and it is with her that some form of PEOPLE LOOKING FOR PEOPLE AND PLACE (a flyer to be posted old-school style) will go on islands where she lives or on islands near to her... into her hands we'll start again to look for meaningful connection with people who are yet to be known to us.
Just before we left each other yesterday Liz said a friend of hers believes, "You have to have the dream first ... or you'll never know if you've found it." It reminded me of a character, named Bailey, from a favorite book of mine, Night Circus written by Erin Morgenstern . Bailey is a young boy -- not yet a teen -- torn with a very early parental (his father) mandate to carry on as a sheep herder and tender of the family apple orchard.
His grandmother tells him:
"a child should not have their choices dictated for them. I have listened to you read books aloud to my cats. When you were five years old you turned a laundry tub into a pirate ship and launched an attack against the hydrangeas in my garden. Do not try to convince me that you would choose that farm."
"I have a responsibility," Bailey says, repeating the word he has begun to hate.
His grandmother makes a noise that may be a laugh or a cough or a combination of the two.
"Follow your dreams, Bailey," she says. "Be they Harvard or something else entirely. Know that what that father of yours says, or how loudly he might say it. He forgets that he was someone's dream once, himself."
How amazing to realize that someone could be another's dream. Of course. Or, equally as amazing to realize you must have dreams to follow them.
Do you dream as this New Moon presents her potential to you on the cusp of a New Year of the Pig? What is that dream? Do you tell it (to yourself or another) so you know it when it arrives?
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