09.07.2020
Still feeling the lingering hangover of that frantic full moon eclipse and its mad martian chaser, we are floating now on retrograde ripples as the waning moon draws the tide out. Three things you ought never to turn your back on: the ocean, the past and your sweet self.
Our whole lives eclipses have been schooling us in the truth of beginnings and endings: they are the same place. They frequently find us unprepared and unwilling as we search for answers beyond ourselves that explain the sequence and offer salvation. That lift the burden of responsibility and replace it with the curse of blame. Outsides that never sit right with our insides.
In truth you are the only one who can provide those elusive answers, though this overarching retrograde imperative can help. We are the product of all our choices, mistakes, tangents and tantalising desires. Our path to this revolutionary present has been carved by our own hand and our soft footfalls mark its course.
If you will not look kindly into your past, you will continue to crash blindly through your life unfolding. We are being asked to do this globally, culturally and personally. To bear witness to the whole truth of the shoulders we stand upon and to acknowledge the deep fault lines in our foundation stones. It is at once reckoning and renunciation, the kind that makes uncommon sense.
Choose your companions wisely. Shame and blame are uneasy bedfellows that will trap you under their covers. Responsibility will straighten your spine and reparation pours gold into those cracks. Acceptance is an easy chair whose gentle rocking will swim you to new shores. Inspiration is honey on parched lips. Innovation is a portal to the brave new world already under construction.
Some days your hands will shake and your heart will weep at the workbench. Other mornings will dawn dazzling and you will begin again, resolute and steady. You too are like the tides that you gaze upon as all weather ripples their surface glass, with one main difference.
The tides don't fight themselves, they simply go where they flow.
Art by Charles Hermans, c. 1879
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2020