Mercury Retrograde begins next week and we’re already cowering in its shadow. Tonight’s lunar eclipse is unleashing everything we’ve been back-burning. And it’s August, so all the shrinks are on vacation. I’m unplugging, baby–strolling my finely feathered city like the flaneuzy I really am, seeking signs and sirens in all the right places.
Yesterday, I ran away to the Rockaways for the second time in a week, and when the beach grew too dotted with other people’s dreams, I hightailed back to the city to prowl my favorite concrete jungles. First, the gym; I’m an ardent believer in Deborah Quilter’s gentle yoga class. Afterward I floated to the Strand, where I randomly opened a paperback from their $1 stacks outside. It turned out to be Marianne Williamson’s Gift Of Change, a gift unto itself. The loveliest part is that the book fell open to an already-underlined passage that wasn’t just for me. (See right.) I would highlight only more sentence: Living fully in the present, the Holy Instant, is literally death to the ego. Ego: The bane of us all, especially since a possessed man began projecting his tangerine nightmare all over our nation.
Now is the divine place to roll up our sleeves and resist. There is nowhere else to be–not in soul time, anyway.