Throw back to the summer of 1983, late June early July NYC
Neptune in Sagittarius was retrograde then, as was Jupiter conjunct Uranus in Sagittarius,
& Saturn and Pluto were conjunct in Libra. All those planets were retrograde.
Neptune sat poised on the South Node, just as it is now, a message about the surreal nature of infinity, circles in time.
There was interpersonal violence and sudden ambitions, what had seemed out of reach was moving closer, or was it that things were getting worse? Cocaine and nightclubs were fun for my father and his friends, some kind of bubble, by it’s nature ephemeral, with consequences unimagined, just around the corner. Could you escape a hustle when life is a hustle?
Those terms, those times.
In 1983 I was a little girl in the center of a heat wave.
Everywhere people were blasting the message, an inescapable portrait.
Above, below, around, among.
Still sounds good, doesn’t it?
Blondie was popular, and those black rubber bracelets
In the summer of 1983, our apartment was broken into, and the trains were a world unto themselves,
a subway car caught on fire with us inside it. Not long after, my father watched a man decapitate himself as he was about to catch the 2/3. As soon as he made it home, my father described the scene to me in our large dark apartment at the glass table with the modern design chairs, guitars and Mexican art. It was a floorthru, seven rooms, a size a “Super” would never have now, but he had it then, while he looked after a block of brownstones, taking out the trash, and hosing city sidewalks.
Every day, Mrs Shatner from two doors up brought us rotting fruit as a gift, a bag of sweet mold, decay, maybe nectarines, which my father graciously accepted and promptly threw away. It was like a mission for her, she would ring the door bell until we answered, or find us on the street. I developed heat rash on my chest and my father brought me to see Mrs Shatner’s husband. He was a former doctor with some sort of antiquated medical chair, surrounded by gynecological tools, a dusty primeval clinic arranged in the dining room of their apartment. Everything worn and faded, smelling of old leather and rusty metal, as though an antique elevator to a dim alternate dimension, replete with trash, abstract horror, and neglect.
Pisces Neptune turns retrograde today,
across from Jupiter, and square to Saturn.
Mercury in Gemini doesn’t keep track of a linear truth.
Jupiter conjunct the North Node makes a strong trine to retrograde Pluto.
Once more we try to get the ship in the water.
Venus conjuncts the Sun, while squared by Chiron, and inconjunct Mars.
Hold still this will actually hurt, but there is no time to dwell on it.
Move and then move again.
Neptune’s retro will last until November 20th
The transit is characterized by a square to Saturn in Sagittarius.
Partial truths and obscured information, fear, fog and lies..
Perhaps we become aware of the levels of deception, (or is it more simply imperfect incomplete information?) personally, regarding love, regarding health, regarding money, regarding idealism, and certainly with a larger political context of “truth”. And yet, even as we imagine we are -waking up- doesn’t the genuine nature of the matter seem prismatic?
A sense of the necessity of action and equally the notion that you are feeling in the dark toward uncertain half-truths and potential futilities.
Without clarity, without moral purity, absolutely human.
Don’t give in to temptation, but is a compromise or two about to be made?
How does it end?
It’s an ordinary thing, the God of the seas, the God of all that is both real and unreal; being drunk, drugs, movies, fantasy, dreams, he moves backward today and our illusions are hi-lighted and then dimmed. It should help. It should help us to see.
If you are depending on illusion to make your life bearable, it becomes that much more bereft.
I would say:
See what is, so you can see what can be.
Only it’s complicated by all of the current mutable planets,
by Sun/Venus/Mercury in Gemini, North Node/Jupiter and most of all SATURN
In fact tho, it’s still good advise, only imagine that you may hold only a fragment of the information.
imagine that it’s a pivotal moment, imagine behaving with kindness and not spiraling out of control.
What can you do?
Your logical best.
Let go of fear. It’s never going to help you.
Embrace the genuine love you find.
~The world is the closed door. It is a barrier. And at the same time it is the way through.
Two prisoners whose cells adjoin communicate with each other by knocking on the wall. The wall is the thing which separates them but it is also their means of communication. … Every separation is a link.
-Simone Weil ~
~ We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy. -Pema Chödrön ~
For More on Saturn/Neptune read THIS
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