Today K and I beat the arctic cold with a screening of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse and HOLY SHIT IS THAT MOVIE GOOD. Really, the best of 2018 because (aside from Black Panther) it’s the only film fully embracing the medium’s possibilities with joy and righteousness. Spider-Verse is all fourth and fifth dimension multiplicities–intersectionality and concurrent realities aglow in one big colorful valentine to the Brooklyn that never will be gentrified. I feel certain that the message of that film–that we all are superheroes when we live as our bravest kindest truest selves–summons the 2019 America that can and will transcend the white and orange demons currently in charge. Which is to say: Everyone should see this movie, if only to remember who we really are and what art can unlock. Here’s to the fresh start of a new month and Imbolc and Monday’s new moon in Aquarius and magic at the movies! Someday soon, we’re all going to thaw.
People often show up in my office expecting to hear about dead ancestors and past lives. That happens sometimes, but more often I’m downloaded with practical magic on their behalf–the simple stuff they can do to help them glide onto their best paths. I receive advice in areas of work, love, cash, spiritual practices, and even health and fitness. And sometimes I benefit from the advice I’m given for others. Goddess knows that was the case when I was driven to tell a client to chuck her more earnest forms of exercise for “dance classes where you can have some fun.” My work is all about shedding the bullshit by the most joyous means possible, so sweating while giggling is a perfectly acceptable route. At left, observe my goofy Zumba self.
Question: What happens when your solar return arrives the day before a supermassive blood red wolf moon eclipse in my-way-or-the-highway Leo? Answer: You cry a whole river, which is how I spent my birthday. No holds barred, I wept more yesterday than on any birthday since I was a kid. Today I woke feeling crazy and a little frantic. I’ve long believed that how you spend your solar return dictates the tenor of your new year, which meant I was in for an unholy dirge. In desperation, I called my shrink, not an astro-maven but a wise woman across the board.
“You’re letting it all go,” she said. “Your myths, whatever and whoever was holding you back. Your old ways of getting through the day. Whatever wool was still in your eyes.
“This doesn’t mean your 49th year will be terrible,” she went on. “It means you are being shown what can’t enter your year to come.” Continue Reading →