Using the Buffalo

I have a handout from a graduate school history class that listed everything a Plains Indian made from a single buffalo. Not any part was wasted. It wasn't the first time I had heard about this, but probably the most recent. After an analysis session last week, I decided I was trying to be like a Plains Indian, too. There were many things I was trying to be like, and with this one, the buffalo was my past, and I was trying to use every bit of it.

I was trying to use what I learned in college and grad school. I was trying to use what I learned driving around Pennsylvania and reading books about the region. I was trying to use what I learned in my volunteer work for Bowman's Hill Wildflower Preserve and the Tree Tenders and a former Scout and Macalester alumni. I was trying to use my "life experience" as a teaching assistant and instructor, temporary employee, and counseling, therapy, and analysis client. I was trying the use my experiences as the son who came back to clean up his parents' house and figure out a way to feel okay about life, the universe, and himself while becoming financially and emotionally independent.

This all became apparent in the geography class I was teaching over the last month. I was trying to describe the history of Native American inhabitants in the region, and my ability to articulate thoughts was working hard to keep up with a mind that was remembering something from a college class, from childhood, from a recent trip through the region, from a distant trip through the region, from grad school, and from last week, when I spent all day reading internet histories of the tribes. As this was going on, I was simultaneously trying to coordinate the ideas I wanted to convey with the power point slides I had spent the rest of the day creating. Being so scattered used to seem kind of fun and daring. Herding the thoughts seemed like an expression of skill. But it all seems a little child-like in a way that maybe needs to be adult first. It also kind of like walking a dog you can't control - or maybe taking a sugar-hyped kid to the mall after he's been watching cartoons and advertisements all morning. Sooner or later, it gets into something that causes you embarrassment or trouble. Or at least feels like it did.

I've been mulling over the alternative to being so "anything goes" with my hard work and passion. What's been formulating along these lines is a new way of looking at commitment. I guess I've approached commitment as throwing myself at something until I broke through whatever barrier I needed to, reached whatever goal line was ahead, and I didn't really care about the consequences to others or the pleasure sharing the experience, except as it supported me and accomplished what the "important people" said I had to do. Needless to say, this was not (and still is not) a satisfying or pleasurable way to live life, though I give myself some allowances for old habits being hard to break.

What changes me in the way I approach commitment? There was one point last spring during the first census project, when I was with a my team copying information onto census forms in a nursing home, that I decided to respond to a question asked by one of my coworkers differently than I would have if I hadn't thought about how I was going to respond. I don't remember what question it was, but I hadn't been taking the work too seriously. (I should add that I nevertheless was simultaneously very anxious about doing a good job, the correct job, which was obviously what was expected in this kind of work.)

In any case, I decided to respond to the question as if what I did, no matter how simple or mundane it was, was worth responding to with a measure of self-respect and simple humility. This was how some of my co-workers seemed to be responding, and it seemed like not that bad of a thing to decide that, despite my doctoral degree and my vast interests and competencies in lots of high-falutin' stuff, it was worth treating this mundane task with a measure of respect. (I should point out that quite of few of us had advanced degrees and it made for interesting conversation while filling out those forms).

The change in attitude was quite simple and for me at least, revolutionary. I mentioned it as an aside in an analysis session later that week and didn't think much of it until a few months later, when something happened that made me think of it again, and I realized that the moment was a seed of self-respect that had been planted and was beginning to germinate, sending out roots and a few exploratory leaves.

I had articulated the idea a few months earlier - grasping it in terms of a "healthy sense of responsibility," and I think this was a conscious application of the concept I was struggling to "wrap my mind around." (It's fascinating to note that the part of the brain in humans used to "grasp" abstract concepts is the same part that other primates use to grasp things with their hands. The metaphors obviously seem to reflect a subconscious awareness of evolutionary history.)

I used to think Frank Sinatra's song "My Way" was an egregious, if somewhat sophisticated, ode of self-inflated ego. I was very surprised to see it mentioned by one of my astrology friends as a good example of a healthy understanding of the self, which was a necessary precursor to healthy relationships and effective work. Having some self-respect must be the first step to carrying forward in life on your own path without becoming a pompous, self-important ass - or a pathetic buffoon.

I think I'm used to being the lone, star performer. It's an ideal I wanted to emulate - the magician who could do it all with flash and pizazz and become well-liked and respected because of it. I can say that my early childhood career as a magician ended badly at one of my own birthday parties, when a neighborhood friend exposed my trick and ruined the performance. Another relevant memory is the part I played in an elementary school play. I was to be the north wind - I donned a thin blanket we had around the house as my cape and tried my best to be full of big air, but my lungs didn't have the heart for it. I was applauded nonetheless, and didn't do a bad job. It just felt like I was trying too hard at something I didn't believe I could do in the first place. Kind of the same way I felt after graduating college or deciding to teach a class. It takes patience and a subtle touch to work through these feelings. The right thing has to be supported, while other things have to be taken down a notch, or dismantled completely. Knowing which is which can be very confusing, especially if you take a holiday from working on it.

Astrologically, I think of my natal North Node in Gemini (rules the lungs, arms, and nervous system), a twelfth house Sun (takes work and self-understanding to shine), and Jupiter (expansion and faith) being the ruler of the south node (an old way of doing things) and also in Gemini (lungs, arms, and nervous system again), in the fifth house (the natural house of the sun - personality and creativity). Jupiter is in detriment in Gemini, and I once read (in Kevin Burke's basic astrology text) that planets in detriment (that is, a planet in a sign opposite the one it normally likes working in) often express themselves with a degree of worry over how that energy is expressed. I actually do always seem to be worrying whether I'm overstepping my bounds when I express myself.

So, self-respect tones down some of the need to be important and admired. It inspires a quiet faith in my direction in life, and in the process of getting to where I'm going, even when I stumble and bumble along the way. And as that faith becomes stronger and I act on it more confidently, I start to see some positive results and it becomes a little bit easier to align myself with the way of doing things that seems right for me. If I start singing the Frank Sinatra tune loudly, though, I'm probably headed down the old path. Maybe some day.

With the quieter confidence comes some greater willingness to commit to "being there" and to respecting whatever work one is doing. I was trying to explain my new understanding of commitment to a psychologist the other day and I couldn't get the feeling across in words, perhaps because I hadn't talked about it in conversation before. So I worked over it on the drive home and decided the proper metaphor was a ship putting down anchor. Instead of using up the whole night trying to find the best place to anchor, because "only this will do" or "only that is worthy," I think commitment is about making a reasonable choice at a reasonable hour (unless you decide you need to keep looking) and casting anchor.

As long as the anchor is cast, you experience what is there and use it to add to your knowledge. You agree to "being there," whether "there" is a calm port with good fishing and welcoming natives, or a nursing home filling out census forms. It doesn't mean you're stuck there forever or that you'll do things skillfully the whole time. You'll weigh anchor and go to other places, do other things; you'll make mistakes and have to work things out - but while you're there, you keep the anchor in the sediment at the bottom of the harbor and let go of the winch.

Juno is the asteroid that deals specifically with commitment and in my natal chart, Juno is in Pisces, a water sign known for its mutability - the shape-shifting fog, the variable conditions of the sea. Saturn, the planet of work, restriction, and boundaries - as well as respect and authority - is also in Pisces in my natal chart. The metaphor of a boat on the water is a good one for a person with these things in Pisces.

The title of this piece is Using the Buffalo. I think I've been afraid to use less than every bit of the buffalo - the buffalo being my life and the expectations others have had for it. I'm afraid that I would be less than perfect - and worse than that - if I failed to live up to the admirable, but rather arbitrary expectation of living in the spirit of a good Plains Indian. He (or she) is one of a horde of "them's" that I think I've been aspiring to be like. If there were a reason to live this way, a community where such a feat or lifestyle was valued, perhaps then it would be a worthwhile endeavor, but it seems too much like skipping around on the lake without setting anchor.

Juno in my natal chart forms an exact square (less than one minute past exact) to my natal lunar Nodes, which dictate the path a person walks in life from the old and overly familiar (South Node) to the new and satisfying stage of development (North Node). Flitting from one new idea to the next while trying to be like "them" seems to me like the square between Juno and the South Node, while setting anchor, "being there," for the time you're there, feels like the productive square between Juno and the North Node. It doesn't have to be the right square or the right answer (that's so Sagittarian, anyway). It's just important to remember there is an alternative when one gets stuck doing the same, unproductive thing over and over again. Chiron just transited my natal Juno, which means it also just completed a square to the Nodes. Maybe this new idea is Chiron's gift to the process of personal evolution. I'm not sure I've been successful in tying together all these ideas. I'd like to hear from others if they have any ideas about this topic or making the writing more coherent. There's always a first step and an honest effort, and I want to try to do both with the respect for the effort they deserve.

On writing a letter for my alma mater

This morning I developed a blog idea in my journal, the one I keep on the round kitchen table at the end of my bedroom opposite the sleeping area. Now I'm going to copy it into this format. No doubt there will be some changes.

My fingers ache from working late on the computer. My shoulders are tense, my eyes blurry, and gut feels sluggish and clumpy. Okay, part of that is from the bottle of beer I opened at dinner. Still, this is often the way I feel in the morning, and its why I don't like to get up to go to a job or answer a phone call. I wait until my body is ready to get up, unless there is something I've agreed to do that morning which is not part of a routine or I get an idea or an outing that fills me with enthusiasm.

Why not just relax before heading off to bed, you ask? Why not step away from the computer or television when it would be the common sense thing to do? Well, I've read something about 19 degrees of Virgo and that's where Uranus is located in my natal chart, and it's right next to Pluto...In plain English, though, I have this kind of mental predilection for sticking with something despite the hardship and the lack of need for it all. Yeah, that's it. It's an addiction. I can't do anything about it. ;)

An example. When my dad would dutifully head off to bed in the middle of a movie, I would stay up and watch the whole thing, despite his comments to me about how things have to be done. It became a hallmark of independence and a weird kind of way to pay respect to something that didn't need it. Maybe I thought I would get something for my efforts - is there some heavenly reward for having watched the network television version of Burt Reynolds in The Longest Yard? I think I actually wanted to do it in spite of a lack of return or maybe even because there was no return. That could have something to do with Neptune or Saturn in Pisces. Oh, what does it matter? I'll study my astrology later.

"Above and beyond the call of duty." That's what the ex-navy officer's widow whose dog I walked in my high school years called it when, incredibly enough, I showed up in two feet of fresh snow and took her golden retriever for a walk one evening. I got a dollar for each twenty minute and usually made five dollars a week. "That's okay. I don't expect anything extra for the effort," but that's not really what I felt. Dog walking money wasn't enough to pay for my trip to Germany with the exchange program that summer, but I was used to my parents paying for things, a problem I'm still dealing with. And now I'm going to take a short break from the computer. Maybe it'll become a habit...

....There's something about going "above and beyond" so often that it becomes something you're known for, which is, that it becomes a burden and leads to inner resentment and maybe even depression. At the least, it gets a little tiresome when there really isn't a good reason for doing all the extra work, for making the sacrifice.

When I act this way, there is an honest, somewhat radical desire to do what others gloss over and prove it's not difficult, which has more than a little in-your-face, I'll-show-you edginess about it. I enjoy using it to figure things out my dad and other people would just blow off without really considering, like a watching a movie through to the end or figuring out a way to do something around the house yourself instead of calling a professional and paying more money than you need to. Sometimes this makes me look weird, but I'm learning how to employ my attitude patiently, and it's led to proficiency in some new skills, like creating native plant gardens where once there was only a lawn or a pile of junk. Other times, it backfires and leaves me feeling the way I do this morning.

It's a cool thing that I'm feeling energy freeing up in my gut and my head as I write this. It's really cool. I mean, for years there was nothing I could do about it. It gave me insomnia and feelings of frustration. Now there are some cracks in these monolithic lifelong patterns.

So, what was I doing last night on the computer that was high above and way beyond the call of duty? Every spring for the last five or six years, I've been contacting prospective f...first year students for my alma mater, Macalester College. I almost said freshmen, but that would be sexist, and if there's one thing I drilled into my psyche at Macalester it was not to be sexist! Which is probably why I spent the last ten or fifteen years working through my desire to research a tremendous variety of internet pornography sites deeply and thoroughly. Anyway...

It takes a lot to overcome my social anxiety in order to fulfill these requests, and I have to do that or I'll feel like a failure, which is death to a Capricorn. Some years I really don't feel up to making a phone call, so I drop a line. Or several...pages. Which might cause me to end up feeling unpleasant because I did way more than was expected, and might not have even done it very well.

I guess it comes to down to the fact that I also have a predilection for Herculean efforts, as if to say, "this doesn't faze me" or, "wow, look at what I just did!" And some things are meant to be something other than Herculean efforts. Knowing which kind of effort is appropriate in which situation might help one get along better in the world, and prevent more than a little resentment and stress from building up in life. Sometimes it's not just choosing big or little efforts, but building up to a grand climax in small steps, while eliciting feedback from others who might already be skilled in what you're attempting to master, or might have a head clear of the predilections that fill your own.

Not that I would stop writing. After feeling like I was emotionally inarticulate for so many years, being kept from expressing what I thought, felt, or was merely interested in, I can't not put thoughts and feelings to paper. When I write, I can take the time to revise things and when I watch the thoughts flow onto paper they come so readily. One idea opens into several others. I feel compelled to pay some attention to every detail, and I feel the pleasure and satisfaction that comes with filling pages so easily and productively.

Sometimes the pages fill with puffed-up words in ways that I don't need them to but am loathe to resist, an issue I think I've started to turn a corner on. The writing has become part of my routine and other areas of life become a little clearer. I'm finding the set of brakes for my overly focused intellect and the behaviors it generates. But they don't always work. And I don't always want to use them. Which is okay. Except when they make me feel the way I do this morning.

In fact, I've decided to listen to that feeling I had this morning, and the embarrassed, remorseful, and self-critical thoughts that preceded it. I've decided I'm just going to revise the first paragraph to send out in an email instead of print the whole thing on letterhead stationery and mail it to their addresses. They've already heard much of what I have to say from the paid recruiters, and while my letter is a pretty heartfelt reflection of my time at Macalester and a darn good advertisement for the college, it's not the kind of thing that is expected and would probably just make me feel like an overwrought weirdo. Which isn't cool by me anymore. It's too much of an effort to merely discard, though - there's something so satisfying about challenging yourself to finish a piece of writing and then being able to review it in its entirety. So, I'll post it here at the end of this blog. What do you think? Is your interest in Macalester piqued? Does it resonate with your college experience? Cheers.



Greetings,

My name is Paul Kelley, and I wanted to write you a short letter as an alumni representative of Macalester College (class of 1988) who lives in the Philadelphia suburbs and has been contacted by the admissions department to follow up on early and regular admissions. Even if you have already chosen a college, I hope that you will take the time to read my letter and consider the things it has to say about my college experience. I would guess that ten years from now, you might feel the same way about some of the experiences you are about to initiate, regardless of the school you choose to have them at. Before I go any further, though, I want to congratulate you all for being accepted to a highly selective school that I really believe has a great deal to offer, and I want to lend you my ear and my experiences should you have any questions about Macalester that might help you in your decision-making process. You may contact me at the address and phone number listed below.

You've probably heard this next part before, but if it's become a familiar litany, it's only because the average Macalester alum is genuinely enthusiastic about the campus and its surroundings. I'm still surprised by how fond I am of the Mac-Groveland neighborhood, and the campus itself. I was there for a reunion in 2008 and, like many, enjoy being kept up to date on the improvements to the campus and the programs being offered there. It is also surprising to realize how many of my college friends - people who arrived from all parts of the country and some even from overseas - still live in the neighborhood or in ones nearby.

As much as we all tire of chamber of commerce-type postcard descriptions of campuses, you'd probably agree that the setting is pretty important if you're going to be spending the better part of the next four years there - which usually means working, studying, sleeping, eating, and socializing all in the same setting. And perhaps you'd also agree that a college which recruits long-term residents for the community must have something going for it!

Let me draw on my background in geography and make this a quick recap. Macalester is a relatively compact, self-contained campus located in a residential neighborhood of modest older homes and mature trees about two miles from the Mississippi River in one direction and downtown St. Paul in the other. It is also about a mile and a half from the commercial corridor of University Ave and I-94, which lies to the north. City buses run in all directions, and one of the nice things about finding your way around, especially if you are from the east, is that most roads are oriented to the cardinal directions - north, south, east, and west.

It is situated along Grand Ave, which features coffee shops, small restaurants and stores, and next to Summit Avenue, with its shady, grassy boulevard ideal for walking or running to the river, where it connects to the boulevard parks and pathways. Several colleges and universities are located nearby, contributing to a relaxed, collegiate "feel," while the small businesses and variety of neighborhoods remind you that you're still part of the everyday world.

St. Paul is, in fact, a city of neighborhoods and parkways, and even when the weather gets horribly wintery, you'll find that people love to get out and do fun stuff. I thought it just added to the sense of community when you could go cross country-skiing or take in a Winter Carnival ice sculpting contest with newly befriended, heavily bundled, fellow Minnesotans. Since Macalester encourages, if not requires, students to get involved with "the community," everyone gets to know a little of this world beyond the campus boundaries. The metropolitan area is economically and ethnically diverse with a reputation for progressive innovation in governance and business, so there is almost always an avenue for involvement that suits the individual's goals and desires.

All that having been said about the cities and the neighborhoods around Macalester, there was almost always something to keep me one hundred percent occupied on campus, and I'd bet that's only become truer. The school does not empty out on the weekends, as many universities do (I spent ten years as a graduate student at one of those places), and even on the holidays there were a few students around to keep each other company.

During my stay at Mac, I was involved with the symphonic band, literary magazine, geology and outing clubs, peace and ecology interest groups, and, at one point, the pipe band. I frequently listened to guest speakers and shared the ideas they generated with my journal or among friends. I was involved with various other informal student groups, such as the international student friends I made, whose quiet parties I found relaxing and enjoyable. I took time to help new students move in at the beginning of the school year, and shared time and space with prospective students who were seeking a bit of the Macalester experience before deciding on a college.

When the world of student housing got to feeling a bit claustrophobic or intrusive, I sought peace playing the drums or reading a book in the fine arts building. Some of my friends worked on sculptures or composed pieces on the electronic pianos. Sometimes I attended a literary function or theater performance - dance was my favorite. The same purpose might have been fulfilled by time in one of the science or cartography labs or libraries, as odd as that sounds, or in some other scholastic mini-retreat I had fashioned for myself or perhaps shared with others. Most of my friends had their favorite retreats and guarded them possessively. When we needed to get away completely, a walk or run to the river was an excellent break in the routine. Buses were quick ways to get downtown, even in the middle of a snowstorm, and an occasional outing to a theater performance or ethnic restaurant reminded us we were regular folks, too.

This past year, I rediscovered a collection of programs from events I attended or participated in during my four years at Macalester. As I sorted through them, I became thoughtfully engaged with the vivid memories they brought back. I realized these documents charted the emotional chronology of my college experience more deeply and effectively than the folders of class notes and records I had kept. Through them I tracked my interests in various activities as they waxed and waned and the friends with whom I grew closer to and farther from. They highlighted challenges and frustrations that arose as time went by, and ways that I addressed them. The entire exercise seemed to reawaken half-forgotten values that were important to me then, and it brought a sense of appreciation for the experiences I had allowed myself to have.

Again, these experiences meant something valuable in addition to the conventionally recognizable academic achievements that I had anxiously pursued. The latter were defined by goals that I mapped out carefully, with great effort - and occasional bouts of frustration over conflicting schedules and uncertain direction, though they gradually fell into place, and I worked diligently to bring things to a close in my fourth and (almost) final year.

I was given an opportunity to take some courses later as an alum and complete a second major (not something that is done anymore), but those first four years were the defining ones. My Macalester friends and I sometimes have conversations about whether we would "do it again" and "would it be different?" I think back to those times and wish I could have made it simpler, more enjoyable, more effective (if only I'd known myself better, I say now). And yet, the experiences probably couldn't have been anything other than what they were - one stage on a journey that began long before college and has continued long after. And if you had said something like that to me as I was frantically finishing my senior project or figuring out my junior year's schedule, I would have looked at you like you were irresponsibly deluded.

After commencement in May 1988, I lived at addresses in the neighborhoods around Mac for another six years before enrolling in a graduate program at Nebraska, where I eventually completed a PhD in geography. I returned for two reunions and began contributing to the annual fund drives as soon as I could see beyond my own particular needs of the moment. I realized that I wanted to support the values of the Macalester community - I feel "right" about encouraging them with whatever I can offer. To me, these values - beyond the obvious ones, like internationalism - are things that foster the development of community through open, inclusive debate among faculty, staff, students, and community members. They are also values that empower students to have an effect on their world right now by giving them the opportunity to engage in collaborative research with faculty, create internship experiences for themselves, and develop their own entrepreneurial or educational ideas that might go beyond a classroom and help others in the community or on the campus.

As an alum, my perspective on Macalester isn't going to be as accurate or as balanced as a current student's, but I also know there is something to the Macalester experience that carries on from one class year to the next, and from what I understand, the things that made Macalester a great school twenty-five years ago have continued to improve. I would guess there is less cynicism, more effective engagement, and probably also better academics, though they were excellent when I was a student and I was well-prepared by my education at Haverford High School. I hope that you've decided or will choose to have the opportunity to find out for yourself, if it feels like the right choice for you. And if you've read through my entire letter, I really thank you for your commitment of time.

Sincerely, and with best wishes for a meaningful college experience,


Paul Kelley
Class of 1988

Musing in a Religious Direction

Yesterday I arrived home from working over my issues at the analyst's, which I generally like doing more than I let on. Spending time talking over one's "problems" in a kind of self-indulgent way feels like something that ought to be frowned upon, and I am sensitive to that kind of pressure, but for me it is a release valve that helps keep me on track and lets me "work on" how I work on myself. I also get some of the issues out into the open and talk them through. Gradually a trust builds so that there isn't quite as much resistance to approaching a topic or a feeling as there once was.

When I come back from a session, I often feel calmer and kind of relaxed, though I have to remember to have a little discipline, so as not to be too happy to open up to other people and start spewing like I took a dose of truth serum. If I'm by myself, I have to find something to do, and on days like these, it might be something domestic, such as cleaning the garage, gardening, cooking, or just watching television.

Last night I was watching a show on the Smithsonian channel about angels. I generally shy away from anything about Christian theology and practice because I am sensitive to memories of going to church with my family. It felt like a chore and a shallow social ritual more than anything else, and I was looking for religion to fill my lonely angst-filled teenage life with deeper meaning. It was such a big part of our identity as a family that it has become hard to approach without eliciting confusingly contradictory feelings, not the least of which is the uncomfortable ennui of sitting through church services week after week when I would have rather been outside doing something active.

So, while I know that I still have a feeling of gratitude for the support of a church community and that I like being in the energy of a church structure in solitude, I don't attend services now or find them meaningful in any personal way. Hopefully, this will change if I want it to, but I think organized religion and theology may just be one one of those things that doesn't register on my scales as anything important. Community and spirituality, which can be part of religion, but sometimes are not, would be more central to the kind of experience I want to have.

This particular show may have caught my attention because of my growing interest in astrology and the conversations I've had or shyly sat in on with interestingly different people at astrology conferences. It was likely also the weirdly open feeling I get after an analysis session and the fact that the creators of the show took an open-minded yet scholarly approach to the subject.

The world-traveling narrator and host traced the history of angels in the Christian culture and discussed how they were used by the church hierarchy to integrate the old pagan gods, such as the ones astrologers, Greeks, and Romans have used to denote the planets. This made Christianity more appealing to the rabble in conquered cultures and helped keep those people's traditions alive, in the same way that elements of Native American spirituality have been incorporated into Christian rituals and practice so that they can continue to be practiced under the guise of a monotheistic religion from the Middle East.

There were a couple elements that I found particularly engaging. One was the whole issue of gender in angels - the fact that is was an issue is pretty interesting in itself, and the androgyny that imbues some of the paintings from the middle ages is even more so. The lightly feminine faces and suggestions of breasts beneath billowy clothing were oddly juxtaposed to the ideas most of us have of the patriarchal church in the middle ages.

Were women viewed as the more virtuous sex back then even while they were vilified as temptresses of virtuous men? Or did it make Christianity more marketable to use a womanly form to soften the fierceness of the archangel spirits? Or could it really have been a free-thinking depiction of angels that managed to break through, consciously or not, and transcend rigid gender boundaries? Whatever the answer might be, it seemed particularly fitting for the day after an Aquarian New Moon to be considering an androgynous heavenly host from the Middle Ages.

The other story that strongly engaged my attention was of archangel Michael and his battle with Satan. I've heard the story, or similar ones, and seen statues of Michael presented in feminist-oriented psychological texts. His victory is interpreted as a patriarchal battle between the mind and the body. In this context, the mind represents the clean, rational, masculine energy of spirit, and the body represents the dark, dangerous, unhealthy feminine energy of the earth. In short, it's seen as an example of the battle between the sexes, masculine versus feminine, the acceptable aspects of our selves versus the parts we wish to keep hidden, and, of course, the feminists have a big problem with that.

The idea behind their critiques is that the (patriarchal) church was responsible for splitting off parts of ourselves we ought to be valuing. It is ironic that, as a college student in Karen Warren's philosophy class, I responded enthusiastically to such a critique because of its clean, rational (and very masculine) logic. The way the different elements of the argument were pieced together created a new and exciting way of seeing old, tired, moralistic theology.

I had heard enough that kind of thing on the Sunday mornings of my youth, as I checked off the order of the service in my bulletin and watched the sun track slowly through the different colored panes of stained glass. The dichotomizing of life's experiences into categories of good and bad - light, good; dark, bad - is precisely what bugged me about the last two sermons I sat through and made me not want to go back. Well, it was either that or start a philosophical debate with the minister, and I didn't feel like I could pull that off and still feel welcome as a guest in their church.

In the documentary I was watching, the narrator interviewed a priest to get the details and meaning of Micheal's epic battle with Satan. I might betray an ignorance of basic Christian theology as I try to recount his story, but here goes. Lucifer, or Satan, was feeling jealous of god's power and thought he ought to move up in the ranks a bit. In fact, he wanted to be more powerful than god, but of course there are no rotating seats of power in the heavens, at least not in the Christian sections. The priest made a point of saying how we all feel like being "bigger than god" at times - whenever we're having one of those good old competitive ego trips. Michael, whose name means "one who is like God" simply spoke his own name at Satan to put his ambitions in check. As if to remind him what it meant to serve God, what the proper attitude was. Wow. Powerful.

So, I kind of see it this way. The one angel feels that he's missing out on power and all the good things that it must be related to. He desires it and becomes jealous, while the other angel serves the power selflessly and experiences it. Both desire to be like God, but one acts from fear and scarcity, which engenders jealousy and greed, while the other operates from a place of love and service. "Being like god" sounds like the height of arrogance in Satan, and yet it represents the highest nobility in Michael. The exact same words have a world of difference in meaning. Wow. I can't think of a better way to illustrate the difference between a fear-driven ego and a person filled and powered by something like love. I finally felt like I got it.

The moment the inner intention of Satan is called out by Michael, a battle begins, as it had to. Micheal defeats the would-be usurper and casts him into hell with the other fallen angels. Unlike this epic heavenly battle, which happened only once, and created the heaven/hell scenario we live with as Christians, I would guess this struggle is something going on all the time on Earth, within each of us and in our societies, regardless of their religion.

I notice as I'm writing now and thinking back on what I wrote earlier, that the energy has kind of shifted from Aquarian to Piscean themes. Pisces is symbolized by the paired fish that face opposite directions. One battles the current by heading in the direction of the ego, the other goes with the flow of spirit. Letting egofish lead brings suffering, while letting spiritfish lead brings peace. Each is bound to the other eternally. There's no denying the reality of opposing pulls of spiritual growth and ego desire, and there cannot be one without the other. But, when one lets go of the ego's struggle for supremacy and gets on with serving his spiritual path in life, the energy creating suffering gets put to use in productive service.

I can come up with stuff like that based on what I've read in books and lectured on, but it's always different when the words resonate on a feeling level in one's life. For some reason, breaking down this story of archangel Michael and his epic battle with the upstart Satan brought up a feeling inside of frightening honesty, a feeling one might equate with the desperation and greed of Satan being met by the penetrating, unshakable gaze of Michael, the archangel. He was not one of the cute Hallmark cherubs that others painted; Michael is the top of the heap, the supreme commander of the angel armies, and his love is fierce and protective of the greater good. It faced down Satan's selfish intentions unflinchingly and squarely called them out.

To put all this into more rational words, I think the battle represents the struggle within ourselves to master ego drives that are based in fears about not getting enough of what we need or fears of missing out, of not being recognized, or of being kept apart. I thought about how that fear drives us to be greedy and grab for power that is probably only truly experienced when we serve it, rather than when we try to possess it.

Things continued to click in uncomfortable ways because I have a highly stimulated imagination and I can't resist scaring myself with it. I saw certain behaviors and attitudes in a new and much darker light.

To give you an idea of what kinds of things I'm talking about, I can say that when I've tried to get ahead in the world, something bad has happened. When I claimed freedom by riding my bicycle in neighborhoods my parents didn't want me to go to, I got a flat tire, even though to me, and probably to most other parents and kids, they were being irrationally restrictive. It as if there were something I needed to learn before I would be allowed to break their dumb rules. When I accepted a full-time teaching job after finishing some university requirements for a PhD, I was beside myself with emotional misery. My lectures felt void of any true meaning or energy - the empty words sounding brass, as the bible describes it. When I decided I ought to earn some money for my astrology, or when I think of ways to make money from my neat ideas for learning activities, something feels wrong and I sound greedy or am unsuccessful. And worse, or so I imagine.

A lot of this probably has to do with attitude and self-respect - finding what is truly of value to oneself and developing it rather than chasing after something that only sounds good because society says so. Its hard to respect others or their institutions when you don't respect what you're doing with them. In truth, many of the things I risked doing because they sounded like good ideas, didn't feel right to me. My heart wasn't in them, but I didn't know that I could succeed doing something else that better suited my talents and values. I didn't know it was okay to feel differently about money, jobs, and careers. We, in our family, were all too afraid of missing out on something important to support the effort it takes to find out what one is really good at doing and the kinds of things one likes to do.

On the other hand, there was a lack of attention paid to respecting and valuing the things in life that one ought to learn how to do. Healthy egos and jobs and good relations with authorities help a person take care of business so they can invest more energy into delving deeper into their psyches and living more spiritually. No need to make things harder for oneself just to have the experience of rebelling against them.

Some of this is also about giving up before one truly applies himself over the long haul and becomes willing to commit to something, accept criticism, and give up tyrannical little ego needs and fears in order to become part of a larger, more grounded kind of community in one's work. That was a mouthful. But it points to a positive aspect of the seemingly neurotic complex of thoughts and feelings that I hinted at earlier. While others with more fire or worldly orientations might dismiss this kind of vague, yet picky angst with impunity and suffer no ill consequences, its always seemed to be leading me toward a more authentic expression of myself and my work in life, if only I could define what that was and take a concrete step toward doing something along those lines in the real world. Maybe it's best not hammered out with rational ideas. Maybe, too, its a path into a foggy woods without any clear destination, best left for avocations, but it still inserts itself as a central part of the picture whenever the issue of jobs or vocation comes up.

The troubling insight into my soul, the one I was scaring myself about as I continued musing over the documentary, brought a feeling of relief and hope with it, too. The relief comes from accepting what had felt like an ever present, always nagging, but never revealed or spoken truth. Even though it painted a very unflattering picture, I got it, I had words for it, I saw the reflection in the mirror and felt the impact of having it be seen. The instant that happened, it was defeated. For a moment, at least. And not by being cast into hell, as Satan had been, but by being brought into the light, where it was recognized as something familiar. When something is known, it can be worked with. The fear of being cast out and suffering eternally diminishes, and it is replaced with a feeling of being okay - of being one human among many again.

When I lose touch of this feeling and my sense of connection to others, the question arises as to the standards I am holding myself to in life. Are they human or divine? Spending too much alone musing about things, I feel the pressure to do exactly the right thing. Getting my mind to apply human standards, which are more reasonable, has that measure of rational common sense my Capricorn mind craves. I feel like I can move forward in practical ways. I suppose that recognizing you are human and being okay with acting like one is also the meaning of forgiveness, which paradoxically, is divine.

On the other hand, striving to reach higher, spiritually oriented goals feels important to me, and there is a heightened sensitivity to that feeling of weightiness, so that everything has to be more precise and is more exacting, even though it is hard to define what that means in practical terms.

It seems silly to think that answers might come from solitary reflection. Though it's a necessary component, I know I will happier if I learn them in the process of engaging in everyday life with others.

Surrendering the need to be the center of attention, to have it my way, to automatically get a seat among the pantheon of genius astrologers and vaunted geographers - now there's some areas that could benefit from a more spiritual perspective in life. Okay, I'm exaggerating to illustrate how ridiculous it often feels inside. How can things heal if they aren't first expressed, brought into the light of day so their ridiculousness is revealed and laughed away harmlessly? I would hope that Priapus got to laugh at his condition once in a while.

That process of letting myself think thoughts of which I had been afraid or had dismissed automatically, moved to a new level when I enrolled in a cognitive behavioral therapy program several years ago. Although that wasn't the intended result of the program, so much as defining and alleviating the client's social anxiety, it became the most valued awareness of that experience. The process of letting these held-in thoughts be expressed has continued in the realm of other psychologically-oriented endeavors and, increasingly, in relationships and interactions in the "outside" world, as I begin to calm myself down, restore a little rational control to my imagination, and place some faith in myself and others. Well, on a good day, that is what it feels like I'm doing.

I do feel the pressure of responsibility and I get the need to develop discipline, to not dither when it's time to put bread on the table and become more responsible for myself. Claiming to be the incurable victim of a perfectionist's spiritual sensitivity doesn't sound like something even God would sign off on. I doubt you could use it to qualify for worker's compensation, and even if you could, it would prevent you from using it. But figuring out how to get through it all when you think its time to move on remains a tricky proposition.

How do I turn such sensitivity, vague fickleness, and sometimes ponderous introspection into a strength? How do I make it less personal, become less attached to it? What outlets are there to channel it into that might accomplish this? Fiction writing? Art? Social critique? Would it be possible to meld it into more analytical work, like memoir writing or astrological analysis or even geographical research? What kind of work environment would support this kind of attitude? Could I, for instance, crusade to save the whales without losing motivation or feeling like a sham? Perform perfunctory tasks for money and find satisfaction in an inner life and the part-time pursuit of other interests? Hmm...I doubt it, but maybe the right kind of part time job. More importantly perhaps, do I have to figure it out or should I let opportunities to connect with others dictate the way ahead? How do I move forward and actually commit to something, if that's what I should do? I don't have a solution yet. But I did put some of it into words.

Catching Up in January 2011

Lately I've been feeling like I'd be up for a blog soon, and now is going to be the time to get it done. There are two things I'm itching to shape up, one from my trip to the DC area in mid-December and the other from the holiday season. I journaled about both privately but I feel like it would be a good thing to do something more organized and public with these (as much as I ever am "public").

Putting something into a blog and sharing it with others is like inscribing it on a log or a stone and setting it someplace noticeable. It lends weight and intent to the process of thinking, which by nature is an ephemeral act (although sometimes I wish my thoughts would gain a bit more ephemerality). Perhaps a blog can help with that too, since a blog is much less formal than something published on paper or distributed to outlets for sale on the market. There is less of a public commitment, but elements of commitment are still there, since others are seeing what you are thinking and you are agreeing to put it out there for them to see.

With the North Node in Capricorn forming a sextile to my natal Juno in Pisces, this may be a good opportunity to explore the subject of commitment. And Saturn in Libra is coming in to an upper sesqui-square with natal Juno. Juno is the "wife," the asteroid of commitment, and with this Saturn aspect, I should be "getting" something about the realities of my commitments. Perhaps it will have to do with the limits of forcing others (or myself) to commit to things that I'm attracted to but not emotionally supported by. It might mean letting go of expectations while still daring to strive for that imagined ideal, whether a personal relationship or a project. I think mostly it will be about getting the reality of the situation, which might mean seeing that most of my commitments have been masquerades for buying time, or delightful fantasies that allow me to "imagine" enjoying life more than "actually" enjoying it, with others. Disillusionment is not a bad thing, I tell myself. The relief of living honestly is refreshing after spending so much energy keeping up appearances, though that has its practical purpose, too, and being willing to compromise is part of being human.

There is a personal commitment involved in journaling privately, and I would guess that for committed journalers (as opposed to journal"ists"?) personal commitment is no less serious than public, visible commitment. Perhaps writing a blog can even be a step toward creating honest personal commitments - the kind that are commitments to your "higher self." Maybe you grew up being told that those kinds of things had to take a back seat to commitments to others who were more powerful or important than you. Letting others know your intent and showing them your struggle to articulate it says that you want to let go of the old lies and find friends who support different ways of thinking about things - or at least new ways of looking at old habits and beliefs.

Personal commitment is a characteristic of Capricorn that makes a person with this energy what they are, but it is a personal commitment to some higher purpose, some kind of important work. A Capricornian commitment fits an individual personally while being formulated and carried out in a societal context. It is defined for that individual and it is their work to carry out, often alone, but it is carried out in the most visible, public spheres, and so they often gain a reputation for the work they do and feel the pressure to succeed at what they do. Unlike Leo, they cannot play to the crowd. A commitment to personal success, as defined by the inner knowledge they have of their work, is the only thing that matters, and so it must be for Capricorn to be happy.

Okay, so onto the personal goals I have for this blog, and we'll see where they lead and who's satisfied with the results. In March of 2009 I purchased a timeshare. This is something I had heard about as a kid. We had gotten an invitation in the mail, my father dismissed it, but I didn't want to because, to me, he sounded like he was just being unwilling to take a reasonable risk. I wanted to give it a try - heck, a free weekend's lodging in the Pocono Mountains just for listening - that sounded doable! I called them and lied to the person on the phone, then got scared and hung up. I tore up the mailing and threw it in a trash can three blocks from my house. I was good being scared about others as a kid, and I still have to work my way out of that position as an adult.

In 2009, about twenty-eight or nine years later, for you astrologer types (it relates to the Saturn and progressed Moon cycles), I took them up on the offer of free nights in a hotel in the Poconos and purchased a modest timeshare agreement from their representative. I fudged the truth again when I purchased the timeshare, since my income was vaguely interpretable. They gave me a new Bank of America credit card for the purchase. I had just canceled one of my Bank of America credit cards to make a statement in my life about corporate responsibility. Hmm...lesson delivered, I'm thinking - they win. If a tree falls in the forest, does another just grow up to take its place? If you plant one of your own, does it matter, since they're clearcutting the forest? I'll be more patient with this process next time. I'm really good at mapping out payments and using special offers, so there wasn't a practical issue for me so much as a moral one. It will be paid off this August, and my budget will become more sustainable.

Come to think of it, the timeshare didn't reflect the values I espoused when I canceled my credit card, so what was that saying about me? That I was a human rather than a set of ideals? That personal moral standards are complex and have to consider emotional needs as well as rational ideals?

The rational reason I purchased a timeshare was to have a "home base" where I often dreamed of having one - in the woods, in the mountains, on a lake. It seemed like a better kind of commitment than purchasing a cabin - and was more within my reach - since I wouldn't be stuck in one place and get lonely, that horrible feeling of being unable to attract the kind of people with whom I wanted to share this lovely idea of a home in the woods and a relaxed lifestyle...even Thoreau was only a stone's throw from town. At the moment, the option of a timeshare seemed like an unexpectedly reasonable opportunity.

Since then, I've gotten better at avoiding the temptations of marketing, becoming almost radical about it at times. I'm also learning that sometimes rational ideas and ideals should go take a hike. I'd do much better if I allowed things to stay simple and calm. Imagine being a fish and not getting tempted by the fisherman's lures. What freedom! What an evolutionary advantage! But sometimes taking the bait for a spin is just irresistible, and that's part of being human as far as I'm concerned.

The recipe I had for my timeshare vision was missing a few key ingredients, such as "community" and "honestly obtained resources of my own." Reading that just now, I realize that the writer Christina Baldwin told me the exact same thing when I was sharing my beer commercial vision of friends gathered on the balcony of a beautiful cabin the woods overlooking a lake. "Money," she intoned. I closed up, but with a feeling of defiance. Don't bum me out with your heavy practicalities, man. This happened at a journal writing presentation at Macalester College in 1989.

She emphasized resources, but I see now the importance of finding my "work" and connecting it to communities that I feel like I have a place in. Its a more finely tuned picture of the issues, but profoundly similar. It includes the emotional needs of life and the practical ones. Back then, and still now, I struggle to face practical realities without having the hope of succeeding at something that had personal meaning and pleasure. Finding one's brand of personal meaning is everyone's task in life. Without it, there is only endless, resentful drudgery for others, and I knew the feeling of that all too well. Now perhaps I'm learning to change that Dickensian perspective of life and modify my need for self-initiated success and personal meaning in order to obtain the feeling of succeeding at supporting myself, but its an uphill walk.

The stumbling blocks that keep me from adding my key ingredients have been a focus of my own life and of those who have been working with me for years. I can see now that it involves a lot of self-deception, which covers up fears, some of which seem to be surprisingly unnecessary, but they are really hard to break with, because they've become ingrained patterns. These may in fact go back generations, lifetimes, or at least to my very early childhood. It also seems that my talent for taking care of myself by making adjustments here and there is probably reinforcing these old patterns, since I can keep dancing a jig, albeit ungracefully, in order to avoid a deep, elusive underlying issue about relating to others and accepting responsibility for myself.

If I were to create an antidote to the problem it would involve developing friendships, cultivating patience and self-respect, and forgiving family while seeing the truth clearly. Astrologically, these are my second house issues dealing with a natal Chiron conjunct Saturn and squared to a retrograde Jupiter. But astrological analysis, as I recently said to my analyst, is cold comfort when you're feeling their pressure directly in your emotions and nothing seems to be enough to overcome the issues.

I can sense that this is not a problem unique to myself - just think of all the security issues our consumer/credit-driven society has gotten us into - or threatens to - but I'm rather personally focused on it, to the extent that it feels like a big part of my identity. It's scary not to have a sense of identity, so I guess that's why I can't quite loosen the reigns on my particular perspective, if there is anything the matter with having it. It also seems to fit with a progressed Sun in the first house. As it is in Pisces now, I might be looking at letting go of the need for self-definition.

So, back to the timeshare story. I knew I needed some away time of my own before the holidays. And there were points that were about to expire. To buy a timeshare and not use seemed a waste, but so too did stressing myself simply to use something I didn't have to. A few days in the DC area at a place next to the Amtrak line seemed a good compromise, and it was. I wore myself out walking, but I wanted to be outside at least one day during my trip and I ate well, cooking my own food in the morning and evening. And when I couldn't sleep, I breathed until I relaxed a bit and simply waited, then continued with my plans for the day. Seeing things through, patiently. That was the goal.

I ducked in to a restaurant Sunday night and treated myself to desert. I had walked along King Street in Alexandria for blocks and felt okay about this indulgence. When I woke during the night, I was still okay about it, but couldn't get back to sleep. As it was around five am, I eventually went out to the faux colonial dining table and began journaling. It had come to me as I lay awake working on ideas, that I had many personas I affected when I had to interact with others, and this was particularly in focus when I traveled. Seeing this and being able to write about it clearly felt important and very satisfying, although it might not seem so later in the overly strong light of day. The Moon was opposite retrograde Uranus, the Sun was opposite my natal Jupiter T-square to Uranus-Pluto and Chiron, and Lilith was transiting natal Chiron when this insight came. In fact, just after I had done most of the writing, my new smart phone signaled to me that it had received an email notification of a Lilith blog I had recently subscribed to. I think that energy had something to do with it, but a part of me is the unconvinced skeptic and disillusioned dreamer. But this time, words I had written or read before "felt" especially clear and strong, which could have either been insight or delusion. I know that I'm susceptible to the latter, so I treat these things with as much caution as I can muster. What else seemed very clear at the time was that I didn't have to be afraid to drop the act - that I, like everyone else, were humans, and while I might not yet know all the rules of the game or make enough money to feel like I should be "owning a timeshare" or "pampering myself on a relaxing vacation," I could make the adjustments to do so more responsibly and be less afraid than I was among others. Somehow it seemed almost silly, but that doesn't mean it's easy to handle or automatically corrected.

Christmas brought a realization that the house I live in, and all my plans and work here, were part of that second house issue - part of that Chiron wound, Saturn limitation, and karmic fifth house Jupiter T-square. A tangible security issue that is liable to be over-stimulated by the way Jupiter in Gemini communicates ideas I have about taking risks and using others' money. In plain English, its a way I get myself into trouble and am repeatedly confronted with the lessons I need to learn in this life.

It was a realization that came not at the end of a confrontation, though, but at the end of a nice, peaceful day where I didn't do too much for others, while still fulfilling my commitment to preparing and hosting a Christmas dinner for my sister and parents. One trip to Whole Foods and several things cobbled together from the freezer fulfilled that commitment more than adequately. There was no conversation about the house or my role here or about the amount of money my father gave to me and what was I doing to make it smaller and when would it be down to nothing. I enjoyed the time spent with my parents, doing a puzzle, even when my sister left to bring her cat home from the vet's and my mom, who has Alzheimer's was purposefully jamming together pieces that didn't fit (very hard for us Virgo Moons to accept).

In fact, I had done a few things to make my dependency smaller - canceling the movie channels I get on tv, and writing letters to cancel a few charitable contributions with organizations I'm not personally involved with, because, I realize, "charity begins at home," and my home was needing to be more personally defined and less costly. But I am taking care of these matters quietly, for now, at least, and they didn't have to be part of the holiday celebration with my immediate family. I know my dad and I will butt heads again - his Mars T-square almost guarantees he will bring up the issues in an aggressive way even as he tries to be diplomatic about it - and I will defend myself if I have to. But I'm also getting to the point where I hear how angry I've been and realize it causes hurt where it doesn't always need to.

I'm damn glad the anticipation of the holidays is over. I enjoy the relaxed pace of the week after Christmas much more than the months leading up to it, which are just insanity. I love some of the rituals of Christmas, especially the pagan ones connected to nature, and I realize that I need the time with family. As I try to chart my own course through life and define the values I want to live by, I see that these are my terms and I hope to be able to continue developing them while finding ways to meet more of my needs and fulfill my desires while learning the lessons of my life.

Funny Squares with Squiggles and Finding the Healer Within

This morning I decided to launder the sheets. It's something I get around to every week or so, and whenever I catch myself waiting too long, it reminds me of college, when I washed things only after too many little bits of hair and other stuff started getting stuck between my toes at night. When this happened, and brushing the crumbs off the sheets no longer felt like enough, I'd hustle up some tokens and deal with taking apart the bed. With Philadelphia having just been rated number two for bed bugs by one of the major exterminating companies, I thought this day's activity could be a pro-active thing on my part. And anyway, warm, clean, and crisply tucked sheets are one of life's true pleasures.

While I was "at it", I felt one of those occasional rushes of motivation and vacuumed the bedroom carpets thoroughly, sweep the stuff up off of the wood floors, and thought about what I could do about the rather empty, unfinished area around my bed. This seemed like something likely to contribute to a rotten night's sleep, and lord knows my poor, aching body could do with fewer of those. I grabbed a feng shui book so I could refresh my memory of the basics and have some fun "doing it right."

That kind of thing is often a recipe for trouble. I had tried feng shui before, at my apartment in Nebraska, and got bogged down micro-engineering every detail of the process (*Pluto in Virgo*). I probably lost much of the intended transformative effect as a result (*Chiron in the second opposite Pluto, with both squared to a fifth house Jupiter*) Part of the problem had to have been my forcing the feng shui cure "down my throat," though I have to admit I took on the project with a sincere passion and steadfast earnestness. Evolutionary astrologer Stephen Forrest, who operates with a great deal of passion himself, says, when the intellect shuts the feeling function down, it's time to put the charts and books away for a while. Interpretations should feel "alive" with energy, not be the ones that are correct because they follow somebody's standard formulas and procedures.

Well, I've got a bit bogged down with the feng shui this time, too. I'm worrying some about whether this particular set of books should be in this corner or...and whether I can let go of these or...but, for the most part, I am kind of amazed by what I think the way I had some of the things arranged were saying about who I was and what my issues were. So now I've made some changes and look forward to seeing if they help clear anything up psychologically. I hope they result in some practical changes, too, especially a good night's sleep.

The pre-makeover arrangement was a product of a nine-month makeover that started in October of 2009. I had just returned from visiting the family of a college friend who lives in Canada and participating in an astrology workshop in Toronto. I was feeling kind of glum about returning to my lonely place in Havertown, so I didn't put things back the way they had been when I left.

This loneliness has been a big problem for me, one I've been trying to work through for years. It's the downside of enjoying the freedom to do things on my own. I take Jan Spiller's advice for a Gemini North Node by not pressuring myself to be around people all the time, and by trying to listen more when I am. Things get to feeling relatively peaceful when I experience domestic solitude for a whole uninterrupted day - and when I get a cushion of a few days on either side separating me from social events or family obligations. Still, I feel like I should "get out and have fun" more often. An ongoing balancing act that I'm feeling my way through.

Part of the process has been to learn that 1)something that feels like hard work (like pushing yourself to be around others) isn't "really good" and "worth a lot" just because it feels like hard work; 2)that being around people isn't the same as connecting with them (though it can help), and 3)there are certain kinds of people and ways of being that are more comfortable for me than others and it's okay to make those kinds of friends and activities a priority and pass on the others (even though I want to stay open to learning from everything and everyone). Which brings me back to lesson number one.

And now back to the part about arranging my things. The gloomy return to home last year grew into a reorganization project encompassing several rooms on two levels (*Uranus-Pluto trines the Taurus IC*). This led to more than the usual amount of things being left out of place around the house, something I don't often do (*Virgo Moon*). Either because I was feeling depressed or had some uncommon good sense, I let them stay that way until the "right place" found them. I'm trying not to let my Virgo Moon say it was a bad thing to have some messy corners - I had a lot of them before I moved into my first dorm and got jolted into the routine of moving regularly, but this time, I'd like to get things into place quickly, keeping some boundaries around this makeover project. When I did the makeover last year, it was nine months before the last piece of furniture found a place for itself as a writing table by a window in my bedroom. This was an old kitchen table that had found its way from the kitchen to the dining room and then to the living room before moving up the stairs into my bedroom. I can't imagine where it will head to next.

Last week, before this latest "manic makeover" got underway, I paused in my other work around the house to thoughtfully reflect (*Moon trine Mercury*). I told myself there were three different things I was doing here and spelled them out. These were 1) organizing my childhood belongings, 2) cleaning up the stuff my parents' left when they moved out, and 3) creating a nurturing living space for myself. The part of this all which I like to think about least, is that ultimately this work is meant to prepare the house for sale. Maybe I'll be ready and even willing to move out in a year or two, but in the meantime, I wanted to use the opportunity to try remaking the place in my own image - not that I have a god complex or anything - and wrap things up from my childhood on my own terms in my own way. In the process, I've explored values and the kind of lifestyle that I want to have, which is very much centered on my living space and a mission in life. Writing has helped me make sense of all of these efforts, and it's brought a sense of closure and meaning to the process as well as some new directions to take things in. A process of transformation, you could say. I've certainly been attempting to make it one, and just now, I think, as I realize the objects themselves and the memories related to them have the kind of finite boundaries that I thought they would always lack, the projects' direction and scope become clearer, and I can see the separation between them. Things are becoming easier, more efficient, and somewhat less stressful.

Besides treating the work on the house as an experiment in learning over the last three years, I've gotten the idea that a subconscious part of me is also using it to cleanse my Self of negative attitudes from the past, which I am often reminded of when I sort through things in this house. I see it in the items themselves, in the way they've been stored, neglected, left in the same place forever, or arranged in ways I find uninteresting or unimaginative. In changing something about them, or eliminating the things that don't seem to fit or aren't of use to me, I imagine I'm going about the process lovingly and with a higher purpose on one hand, while being a bit grating and a little overly forced on the other. I've felt that I've also created some friction by the way I've attempted to share the process with others or engage them in my mission here, which has probably made it a little more difficult on myself, though I suppose that when things have been suppressed for so many years, its going to get a bit cantankerous as one tries to bring them to the surface and change what's going on.

Okay, let me back up and talk about where I got this idea about cleansing from. It was in the section on sesqui-squares in Dynamics of Aspect Analysis, by Bil Tierney. Sesqui-squares are an aspect (angle between planets, flow of energy in the psyche) equivalent to one-and-a-half squares - either 135 degrees (90+45) or 225 (180+45). The planets in such an aspect are in a kind of relationship moment in their cycle that puts them halfway between a square and an opposition, and it represents a turning point in one's understanding of interpersonal dynamics that is often vexing to the person involved.

Tierney states that upper sesqui-squares (the 225 degree kind) require a cleansing of old negativity so that the person with the sesqui-squares can be free to use the big energy and penetrating insight (freed up by the Scorpic quincunx that precedes this aspect) to deepen their bonds with others. Until the cleansing occurs and "appropriate social outlets" are found for the inevitable vexation this aspect creates, one experiences a lot of frustration when he inevitably attempts to recruit others to his enthusiastic new vision and penetrating insight.

Well, that pretty much seemed to describe my behavioral issues and social and familial frustrations. I guess I've been unconsciously trying to cleanse myself by working on the house, and the process has certainly created a lot of frustration, when my father, the owner, doesn't share my vision. Now I'm finally getting that it is okay, and even feels satisfying, when I accept the reality that I can only do so much when the other person doesn't want to invest in the opportunities I see or has other plans for those resources. If I can generate my own resources, I can do more of what I want, but it is easier to let go of having to control the other person and merely open up to the possibility that seeing things from their perspective brings.

I have "major sesqui-squares" in my chart. The Virgo Moon sesquisquares the Capricorn Sun. The Capricorn Sun sesquisquares the Gemini North Node. Vesta, which is sextile to the Moon, sesqui-squares the MC. The example of my father and this house is related to all three, it seems, but especially shows up in the Vesta-MC, since I created a job for myself with someone who doesn't share the obsessive drive I have for this mission of mine, though it was he and some of his friends and advisors who initially proposed the idea. On my part, I for once listened long enough to consider something one of "those people" said, and its been a useful endeavor and a real learning experience, though sometimes unnecessarily difficult.

Just to explain the bit about the house and my father as an example - the sixth house represents the part of life related to jobs, pets, mentors and other forms of unequal relationships, and the MC represents your reputation, the work you're known for doing in the world. Yikes! No wonder jobs and careers (including the one I've attempted to create here with my father) have been such a huge issue in my mind! - now it all makes some sense, and hopefully it means that I'm gaining an awareness of the issues because I'm getting ready to make some important changes about how I handle the energy.

My natal chart's planets (and related objects and points) are pretty much divided into a group connected to the Moon and Mercury and a group connected to the Sun and Jupiter, with two smaller clusters of things in between them. That means close to half of my chart relates to my emotions - and thinking - and half relates to the ideal, heroic self I'm learning to become out there, visible in the world. Half of my lunar configuration sesquisquares a third of my Solar configuration!

The psychologist I started meeting with last month to work on vocational and other practical issues, says my logical side is at war with my emotions, which prompted one of these sides to go find an astrological explanation that would support or refute his seemingly astute, but somehow annoying, assertion. And this is what led me to sesqui-squares and the idea I'm currently hyping (*Jupiter in Gemini*) that they're a defining part of my personality. Now I have to find what to do besides hype it, since I don't really want to go into advertising or politics.

I guess I'm starting to see how my dad represents or acts out the part of me that I don't see as offering useful insight because I'm completely consumed with finding all the faults and articulating what makes me so frustrated. Since I finally feel like I am starting to do that successfully - articulate my frustrations and issues, that is - and I have an understanding of things solid enough to back it up, perhaps I'm just now ready to begin separating emotionally and experiencing life from a different vantage point and material base.

Now my Virgo Moon is going to look at myself critically again for a bit.

There is ample experience with which I can back my hypothesis up. For instance, I've noticed that when I've pursued a new program of study or gotten into some kind of new learning experience, I've unwittingly become ungrateful and dismissive toward people I'm close to - or I've tried to get them to do what I was doing. It's likely that I need to find the right people to share my enthusiasms with, but I can also see how my life would be a lot easier if I would relax my enthusiasm a little and channel my energy into finding out what magic there is to discover when you "let others be themselves" (Tierney). And if anyone knows of any "appropriate social outlets" that would be a good fit for me, please let me know - I'm still needing a few!

I first noticed this problem in phone conversations with my Libran sister while I was living in Michigan. Which makes me think this might have something to do with Quaoar - the indigo child planetoid, since it's the only thing I have in Libra. It quincunxes my natal Piscean Ceres, so there may be a challenge related to unconditional acceptance, and Ceres receives semi-squares from Mars and Venus in Aquarius, which means they might give Ceres the cold shoulder once they find something new to get jazzed on. Hmmm.

Interesting...Anyway, what happens is that I drive people away by pushing my ideas on them too enthusiastically - or sometimes by being subtly overbearing. I saw this manifest in a grossly unsubtle, heavy-handed way in a letter to an old college girlfriend that I recently reread. Bless her trusting, caring heart, she did go to the chiropractor I was seeing, was helped, and then moved on, while I remained stuck in a pretty frustrating relationship there for several more years.

My sister is especially sensitive to this kind of tone. She, a Scorpio rising with Neptune on the Ascendant, does not always trust me to do what I suggest - except when I present it kindly and rationally. I often have to listen to what I said again to hear the overbearing quality of my tone, and I usually think she's being overly sensitive, but, because I value having her in my life, I try to learn what I did and make adjustments (*that's like the Virgo quincunx*) - or, simply surrender the effort and let go of the fear that someone I need won't be there if they don't change with me (*that's like the Scorpio quincunx*). It's a lot harder for me to remember how to do that, but it's a wonderfully big relief when I do, and it helps a lot with the mental knots and crazy feelings associated, no doubt, with the Virgo Moon and twelfth house Mercury, which it trines.

Nine months, the pieces fall into place, and now, several months after that, I'm reworking it again, but keeping more of the underlying structure intact while changing major details. Nine months is a typical human gestation period, and it is also one half of a complete Venus cycle. In nine months, Venus, the planet of beauty, possessions, and social graces, goes from its conjunction with the Sun to its opposition (or vice versa) - from a New Venus, close to the earth, to a Full Venus, close to the Sun.

Today, I discovered what significant remaining issues my "intuition" had brought to the fore, by having placed things the way it did during that nine month period...even though I thought I was "feeling things out" in a way that would be healing and effective. In other words, it was a fantasy I didn't know much about, because I was afraid to express it openly for fear of it being unrealistic.

I was organizing furniture and things based on an intuitive logic that felt right and expressed both practical discipline, and a desire to show how I have good taste even when saddled with second-hand stuff that others had to buy - (*part of my second house Chiron 'wound'*). It seems to be a lesson in healing and community, because what I did by myself certainly seemed to be the case of one side not knowing what the other half is doing or trying to tell it. Doing it by myself is a big part of this whole three-and-a-half project of mine, and while organizing and cleaning up this place my way is still important (a cleansing process my sesqui-squares seem to be initiating), doing it by myself or in that me-against-the-world kind of way is becoming much less attractive.

Part of me was functioning like a would-be healer that has the wrong body or set of tools to work with, hence the problem of working on everything by myself, though it is important to have the time and boundaries I didn't in the past so that I can commit to learning who I am (*Vesta in Cancer sextile the Moon in Virgo and trine Juno in Pisces; Lilith asteroid in Cancer on the Descendant opposite the Sun).

Until I started writing here, about three hours ago, I was being critical of that part of me - the one that put the chair (as in charity) that belonged to my parents next to the basket (as in basket case) on the reputation wall, or the shelf full of academic textbooks in the marriage corner (both very accurate and very telling 'snafus'). I was making it into a joke, as I often have done in here with these things, perhaps seeking to cover up the fact that I've been very mean to myself for quite some time, having not given that part of myself what it wanted to feel taken care of. Yes, here was another example of the evil-spirit-killing-over-the-top-asshole-organizer-too-efficient-dictator part of my personality, and then I could joke about it. But now I think that I was being the asshole by not being open to what it was telling me.

Writing A Poem to Honor Venus, Among other Things

Last month I went to an astrology conference in Buffalo. I learned several new tricks there, such as how to create simple charts that don't require a birth time and can show you your world from the perspective of a planet other than the sun.

Here is a brief summary of my Moon chart. I was blown away by how clear and accurate a picture it created, though I'm used to astrology's power by now, so I won't say I was surprised.

Placing the Moon in my first house, which would begin at 0 degrees Virgo, puts my Sagittarian south node at the base of the chart. That fits because I often feel very much at home when I hit the road. Saturn moves to the seventh house, and it seems very wise for me to follow careful Saturn in relationship endeavors. The Mars-Venus conjunction in Aquarius, and Lilith, end up in the sixth. It reflects how often my idealistic enthusiasms, so strongly asserted, don't bring me the results I want, not to mention the concerns I feel about my seemingly ever-present romantic/erotic desires. On the positive side, I regularly spend time in and work with nature to keep me feeling healthy about life. Jupiter and my Gemini North Node fall in the tenth, with the Node on the MC. This is a nice affirmation of my thoughts about a teaching and writing career. The Sun and Mercury end up in the fifth, and I can say that I felt great after being given the opportunity to share a poem with everyone at the banquet Saturday night.

I learned some other tricks, too, such as how to create personal symbols from magic squares. However, I ducked into a lot of these short sessions after they started, so my level of expertise is a bit dodgy - for example, I probably can't tell if a person is romantically interested in someone else by casting a horary chart, though I have a pageful of notes from that session.

The lectures and people I felt most at home with turned out to be the more feminine or psychic-oriented groups. This coming from a guy who joked that he was using astrology to get laid. Well, maybe they're compatible perspectives in some functional universe I'll inhabit. I spent a lot of time in the 80s stoking up some militantly liberal views at Macalester, so perhaps I'm working on finding my own balance between the uptight self-righteous dude and the dumbass libertine.

I haven't been successful with the getting laid part, by the way. I don't truly want that to be the main goal, but it got me to thinking about what my underlying motivations are, and how my desire to use this fantastic system to get to know a person intimately can be applied appropriately. As well as how my level of maturity as a sexual being interferes with or interfaces with my feelings of belonging, outsideness, and self-worth.

At my first astrology conference in May 2009, I intentionally tried so hard to connect with people that I ended up feeling very hurt and angry. So angry, in fact, that I skipped out on my last paid hotel night and drove home in a shameful fury the morning after the conference was over. I knew I didn't have cause to be angry at anyone in particular, but I needed to get away by myself and work things out in my mind. Which I did, and the conference the following year was a lot more fun.

I wallowed in some of these familiar feelings this time again as I struggled to decide whether a friend was still interested in doing breakfast with me on Saturday morning. The funny part of it was that I had turned my cell phone off, so I didn't get the message that I should be meeting her out front instead of tossing around in bed. Its hard not to laugh at these feelings and behaviors, even as you're enduring them, because you know they're ridiculous, but I guess I'm not done working on them until I've described them and understood them to my satisfaction and can truly and freely let go. They're still a kind of anchor for me in a sea of anxiety. I don't trust what might happen if I let go too soon. Perhaps they're creating the anxiety.

The same friend shared this joke with me: there are two kinds of Capricorns, she said. The kind who has worked hard and achieved great things, and the kind that whines about how hard everything is they have to do. Haha. And ouch - pinned. Had been expecting a punch line that was a little lighter than that.

So, what I'm getting to with all this is the story of how I got to fulfill my Capricorn Sun/Ascendant's drive to achieve recognition for some decent, honest work, and how that changed my experience of the conference from my wallowing in self-doubt the first few days to feeling a bit more connected and fulfilled the last two days.

It started on Friday after lunch, when I ducked a little late to a session that was entitled something like "An Offering to Venus". Now, if you'll indulge me a while I'll paint an amusing picture of an image-conscious, logical Capricorn male with a background in science and geography brave or deluded enough to enter such a session, after its already underway. In reality, I've always been into poetry and writing and mystical wisdom - I just didn't dare show it in my family or to the world at large. Being able to "fly under the radar" with my writing and astrology has made them all the more important to me. But my tendency to get into unconventional things as a way of expressing my freedom isn't totally authentic, because I'm only starting to respectfully integrate the part of me which is more traditional and cautious.

And then there's that fact that I still haven't had enough sex in my life, and I haven't won my trophy babe. Half-joking, of course. I worry a lot about whether these are "acceptable" feelings to have and how I come across to others. I try all kinds of different ways of interacting, but I can't leave it behind, despite all my "higher" motives. Maybe it's the Aquarian planets battling against the Virgos. I just know its tiring to approach every social interaction with that kind of baggage and the fears of being rejected that come with it.

A woman who knows all the usual tricks a man, who is insecure, uses to impress her is very unnerving to me, at least until I can let go of the fear, drop the act, and be who I am, which is pretty much like everyone else, though I'm not at all used to spending time in that kind of "honest" space, especially not if there's a component of human sexuality involved - these things didn't seem to exist in our family, or maybe I have exceedingly high expectations on interpersonal communication. In any case, I'm finally getting that I need to stick with being who I am, despite the attractiveness and desirability of whichever manifestation of female energy comes into my range of sight. If I don't feel like I'm being given a chance to do that, then its time to move on. There needs to be time to process and figure things out, and I'm much more okay with doing that than I used to be, probably because I have succeeded at some of the things I felt so badly about needing to.

So, again, if you'll indulge my jokey artistry, imagine what I'm not saying or letting myself feel, as I walk into a room where an astrologer is not just giving a lecture about Venus. That would be something suitably logical and masculine and not too emotional or spiritual. No, she has laid out a cloth and put offerings on it to a goddess who I'm thinking might not like my "guyness" in the first place and sees through all my disguises in any case.

At one point in the presentation, it was suggested that we write a poem, as others from similar events had done in the past. This poem would express our sense of Venus, and we could share it as an offering to the goddess later on. Normally, I would jump at the chance to do something special for someone, human or godly, so, I wanted to see what would happen if I tried to reach some kind of compromise. I went through the motions of hemming and hawing and joking a little about it with the presenter, then went back to my room, exhausted, and got to work, driven by the thought that I had to bring it down to the session that evening.

Astrologically (because I'm still trying to explain this part to my satisfaction), I see this dynamic in the mystic rectangle-like configuration comprised of cardinal and mutable water and earth signs. Its composed of Vesta in Cancer, sixth house (I'm obligated to work devotedly for you, especially if you're family), Moon in Virgo, cusp of the eighth (touchy one, that - please let me do something deeply cool and useful that I'm good at), Juno in Pisces, first (make it just so divine - it's who I am, I depend on it), and Mercury in Capricorn, twelfth (let's get serious and practical about this ethereal stuff). Close? Anyone? :)

So I tossed down some images I had written in my journal, scanned my memory banks for more things that felt right (no shortage there, with that Moon trined to Mercury), and then, as I got comfortable lying on the soft bed in my room, I began to relax, and I turned the poem in a different, more positive direction. Away from Humphrey Bogart nursing his self-imposed wound at Rick's American Cafe in Casablanca, and toward a vision of hope for something genuinely positive. See if you can pick up the shift in the poem. (I couldn't find the underline function in here to help out with that.)

The conference organizer gave me the opportunity to share my poem at the banquet the following evening. I had to retrieve it from my room in the middle of the banquet, because I hadn't been sure I would be given the opportunity to share it at all, and also because I didn't want to lug my journal book to the table. I knew that was okay, and I got to ride the elevator with a man from the event next to our banquet, who was dressed as Jimi Hendrix. Kind of fun, and something to lead with when I got back to the banquet.

A Leo friend told me how he didn't think he was like a Leo in most parts of his life, but when he got on stage, he noticed that he did really open up and enjoy being there. It was like that for me - I have taught big and small classes for about fifteen years, so I'm no stranger to sharing with a crowd, but I had never yet been that visible in front a group of astrologers and shared something quite as personal. These are necessary moments of courage that really feel good to do.

It was a tremendous rush being able to freely share an expression of who I am and the kind of work I've been doing. There was a lot of applause for my poem, and the woman who read after me. We both had nature images that were quite beautiful, though the applause was still ringing in my ears when she read, so, honestly, I didn't appreciate the other poem as much as my own. I bugged myself about that and tried to learn something, but that's another topic.

Mostly, though, I felt fulfilled. When I thought about it later, I decided it was because I had been able to contribute something to the conference - this, in contrast to only absorbing others' work and taking it back for my own use. It felt natural to contribute, like something I had been waiting to do - for a long time. Along with being seen, this was what I really craved - a little taste of doing some creative work with others whose ideas I value, and being recognized for it.

Sharing my poem created opportunities later that evening and over the next two days to have conversations with other astrologers whom I had met before and yearned to connect with more deeply, and with ones that I didn't know before the conference. It took the pressure off me to connect with the few people I had known before the conference, but whom were often busy with their own work.

I felt far less frustrated by the end of this conference than I did at the end of my first one. This, despite the fact that I did allow myself to have "fun" by driving myself to mild distraction while gazing longingly at some pretty faces in the crowd, knowing that my social graces would likely fall far short of the ability to hold a pleasant conversation with any of actual persons. Of course, that is what's actually satisfying - getting to know a real person rather than an image or an illusion, and that takes time - not something a first house Mars conjunct Venus really likes to do...at all.

Illusions, or projections, are powerful and commensurately disillusioning when there's an actual meeting. Thinking about my beautiful illusions made me miss my thruway exit the next night, but I was wide awake driving, so I guess they had a useful purpose!

Since, I feel like I don't step from illusion to social reality with any great agility, I've been telling myself that I should invest more in careful, laid back Saturn in Pisces rather than the excited Aquarian Mars-Venus when it comes to relationships. This advice is backed by the lunar chart I described in the opening paragraphs, though I suppose I have to let them both be themselves in the end.

So, I still have issues I feel like I've barely worked on - aside from those mentioned above, I ask myself, how do I get the recognition and opportunities I want without the ego taking all the glory. Or should I accept that I enjoy being in an occasional limelight as much as I actually do. In astrological terms, it must relate to working through my Sagittarian south node in the tenth house, a place of social recognition, and its ruler Jupiter in the fifth, a place of ego celebration.

To bring it back to the here-and-now, I'd ask my wiser self, do the words I write...in a poem, in blogs and journals, or spoken in conversations, or sessions with the analyst, add up to something fantastic or are they a pile of crap? How does one find the middle ground and build on that to create a sustainable, practicable life's work? What are the daily acknowledgments of self-respect needed to bring such work into the public realm, into the world of paying work? And who are the people around me who support this process? How can I overcome my fear of taking a place among them?

Maybe these words have an expiration date, when its time to let go of the thinking, creating, self-analysis, and ego enrichment and just be. I noticed just recently that my progressed North Node has moved into Taurus from Gemini, but my progressed Moon in Aries is moving into my natal third, so...not yet! Until that time, here is my poem, tweaked a little since the banquet and inspired by a sense of Venus, which natally, falls in the first house (Placidus), intercepted in Aquarius and retrograde, conjunct but separating from Mars, tightly semi-sextiled to Saturn in second Pisces, sextiled to Eris in second Aries, and squared to the Midheaven in Scorpio. I especially like the line about the Grecian Urn - it's Capricorn humor.

Poem to Honor Venus

I am the thin man picking lettuce leaves in November.
I'm falling behind on the trail, because there's a flower I've seen,
and being seen, must photograph.

I'm standing before a Grecian urn trying to feel something deep.

I'm the bicycle and rider at home with the world, on his route,
The exhilaration of twenty-two degrees and a blue sky,
The thudding silence of fresh snow in the pines.
The rebel who wants his freedom and feels surprised when he is left alone.
The rush of talent and cool ideas yearning for something different.

I am a name for each garden that holds the idea of what it could become,
Form taking shape,
An image appearing on film in the pan.

The shelf assembled, standing - astrology books thereon.
The pleased look at the end of the year,
A slow pan of the room, its objects...
How I've done.
Do they reflect an idea of who I am?

And is there a softness to the order of things?
Is the eagle eye of detail brushed lightly with feathers?
(Enough at least to emulate the simple quality of creating quiet comfort in her surroundings -
The one thing I found to admire
When the affront of rejection and seeming finality still burned humbly inside)

But what is it that I want?
It is the courage to know, and ask
With hands unclenched and chest relaxed.
A decision to enjoy the strength of a flexing arm, the striding of graceful legs
Among friends.

To stand in the sun and know success,
But also to work with others who feel
The hope of the earth in their hands,
As fragile as breath on a petal.

All of us doing this together, all of us of each other.