Typically those of us in the healing and magic communities make a point of sticking to the positive. In this capacity I am no exception, for I ardently believe that even the most challenging aspects of life pose an opportunity for spiritual growth. That said, when we have as many planets in Aries as we currently do—Uranus, Mercury, Eries, Sun, Venus and, as of today, Moon—I feel more than a little weary. All that unreflective go-go-go and me-me-me energy! Such pressure! Such bother! Such blather! Today, though, I am facing a profound crossroads in my creative and professional life, so I am trying to practice what I preach. Let us all welcome this new moon as a fire point, a power surge, an ignition like no other. Standing in the afternoon’s light at the river’s edge of my neighborhood, here is my cry: Please, mommy goddesses, give us the faith and temerity to push ourselves where we need to go. As the Aries goddess pictured here sings: “Get hip to the consultation!” It goes without saying that I pretend she’s singing “constellation” instead.
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Here Comes the Sun
All hail the vernal equinox! This is a glorious day not just because there’ll be more light than darkness from here on in. It’s glorious because everything is perfectly balanced, and, more than most times, we can trust that what feels good is also right since that balance extends to each and every one of us. To reflect this hallowed equinox, I’ve chosen an Alice Neel painting of Andy Warhol superstars Ritta Redd and Jackie Curtis, who had a beautiful balance that was uniquely their own. Take a few moments to assess what is your unique balance—not according to a “should” so much as according to your most specific desires. While you’re at it, take a few more moments to thank the sun for being such a wonderfully constant life bearer. Even in our worst times, we are so lucky she glows upon us.
In the Storm She Shone
The night before Tuesday’s blizzard, I emerged from a critics’ screening into midtown Manhattan. The sky was heavy and violet; the city, already abandoned. The only other people on the street were hurrying along with big bags of laundry and groceries–everything they needed to lay in for the storm. But the film I’d just seen had been much better than I’d anticipated, and I felt the happiness that good work, natural or human-made, has inspired in me since I was a small child; it’s hard to be despondent when beauty in all forms gladdens you this way.
In that burst of cheer I decided to walk rather than surrender to the weirdness of east 30s public transportation. I bundled up more seriously—double-wrapped my scarf, donned the velvet gloves my mother had sent for Christmas, and took off, knowing it might the last time in a while I’d walk so easily on NYC sidewalks. The air was so cold I could hear little ice crystals forming on my lungs when I breathed; this felt cleansing rather than unsettling. I walked faster, not to hasten my return home so much as to visit with all of the world at once. Continue Reading →