(Unspoken: Are we lobsters in a pot? )
I’m going to give you a series of Images and Questions, after that you may go.
Neptune is gathering up what we suspect to be true.
There is instinct involved, and necessity.
Out on the water, the wind blows in primordial beginnings. The ocean as biological mother, the place where we belong.
The waiting for divinity is over.
All that glitters is gold now.
Stretch out your arms, and receive yourself from yourself.
Now that you have arrived, what are you going to give?
What to do with the intimacy created when someone harms you?
Or when you harm them?
The bond that suddenly exists, vulnerability creates an opening.
What do you do with it?
Can you allow pain to stick around until it leaves willingly,
without feeding it or shutting it down?
Remember that the rules of dreams apply now,
Everyone in the dream is you in one shape or another.
The crone maybe ugly but she is wise
Your fairy godmother knows that spells have limits: be home at midnight, don’t look back.
The hero may be brave, but he is foolish, and that foolishness, or is it innocence, will save him.
You are not powerless, not even a little, the way out of the woods may be long and dark.
no matter, at the moment you need not a way out, but a way in.
The search for wholeness is not an allegory,
Is there somewhere you can go, where you no longer exist, and still be there to enjoy the non-existence?
A window into the time before we realized how much we have lost, or,
a time before we lost it.
If you are waiting to know, to be 100% certain, you can stop now.
You have to make the choice and take the loss, I mean the gain, I mean the transition, as it exists, not as you would have it.
There are no bows to wrap, and for some reason your cherry on top looks like an old boot.
Your reconciliations, how will they go?
These schisms were enacted for a reason, but we turn back to face our past now, not because we want to, but because it’s more trouble if we don’t!
An essential problem
Can you have compassion, tenderness for your foolish innocence, or your embarrassing anger, once upon a time?
How beautiful to have believed, no matter how deeply you were betrayed.
Or maybe you were the villain, taking love for granted, offering little in return?
Do you have even a shred of amnesty to offer your former self?
The combination of void, or lack, and a deep urgency is unsettling.
You are right that things can’t go on like this, and right again that they won’t.
Backed into a corner, with no way out, and terrified, a river springs from your palm and it flows forward becoming streams and tributaries.
Where are you storing your sanity?
In a locked box? Pandora style?
In a hope that must come true?
A desperate necessity, a system almost guaranteed to fail?
If you open the box does your sanity evaporate?
You May Go