In the silence of oneself dwells a mystery. A mystery matched only by the stars in the heavens as they spin and dance their eternal story across the skies.
'Of spinning spheres that slowly dance in quiet beauty
More bright than a million sequins
And humming a tinkling sound of eternal ecstasy
With the longing, not for it to start
But rather never to finish....' *
It's a quiet knowing, a feeling of belonging to and communion with the stars and the planets and the songs they sing, the stories they tell, the longings they evoke in the human as they etch their way across the skies above us. This for me is what I do. It's what I feel when I look at a nativity and see the life described there. The potential, the pain, the joy, the understanding it holds, and the depths.
|Botticelli: The Mystic Nativity|
I don't write often about astrology itself. I just want to read charts. To untangle the threads of life and weave them into some kind of coherence, to find the patterns in the confusion. We don't see the point or the purpose sometimes, the light of the Sun is too bright for us creatures of the dark. To live your Sun takes a lifetime, lifetimes of acclimatisation to its beams.
We are all the same, you and I, dancing to the end of time.