Personal Revolution is a Lonely Planet
It is all well and good to bang on about transformation as though the word itself is a spell that makes it so. It is true too that eclipse season is dredging some major stuff from the bottom of even our prettiest ponds. And yes, this is by design so that our brave new world is not cluttered or destroyed by our same old shit. Yes yes to all of that. What doesn't get nearly so much airtime is how discombobulating the actual process is for us, on an individual and collective basis. Leaving one reality and approaching another, one whose peculiar lure can't simply be unseen now, can leave you feeling like an alien in your own life.
Some days our personal revolution is a lonely planet.
Oh Grief we're learning where you are going to make a home inside us and just how your presence continues to honour what we have lost. And Change, we may have been crying out to you for eons but now that you're here we're not really sure what you like to eat or where you're going to sleep. Hey Restlessness if you ask us how much longer one more time we're chucking you off the spaceship. Has anyone seen Patience? Anyone?
In this neck of the woods the moon too has disappeared from our night skies. She's been sleeping late, kicking herself out of bed in the early afternoon and back in again just after dark. We're barely at the midpoint with an additional equinox tipping point this weekend and already we are surveying a landscape that seems to be missing a few major players and doesn't feel like Kansas anymore. Not even the tumbleweeds look like they used to.
Lady Eclipse, how beautifully you prove the cosmic sense of humour. How wonderfully you test our willingness to stay present to the yucky stuff, the bits that tear at us and knock us around. How magically you pony up the goods just as we're ready to chuck it all in. How gently you tuck us under your wing as you fly us to new lands, even if we scream in terror as we go. How singular your secret vision and how cunning your smile and wink.
Why Ms Eclipse, you're one hell of a broad.
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2016