For
years I've thrown myself pretty enthusiastically into election
seasons, and this one was no exception. After obsessing over
polls and devouring political blogs for weeks, I had planned
to surrender election Tuesday to all things electional - but
fate, as they say, had other plans. Instead, I spent the morning
scrambling to finish up a project for a client, recreating
hours of work that were lost in a tragic technical snafu.
My husband valiantly pitched in to help and missed his bus
for his troubles, so I drove him to work - and got caught
in the first hard rain of the season and miles of snarled
freeway traffic. No, election day was not starting out
the way I'd planned, and by the time I got home I was
feeling pretty stressed out - and with several more hours
of work ahead of me.
In the end, though, the rain stopped. I finished my project
early with plenty of time left to drop off my absentee ballot
and obsess over the exit polls. And election night itself
went mostly the way I'd hoped, with a couple of painful exceptions.
So - happy ending, right? I'd finished a tricky project
and the election was over; and while there were plenty of
items on my docket, there was nothing that couldn't wait for
a minute or two while I caught my breath.
But
days later, I still couldn't seem to relax. As an astrologer,
I needed only glance at my trusty Pocket Astrologer - specifically
at the epochal Saturn/Uranus opposition on election
day - to see my rattled emotional state reflected in the heavens.
For a full year, more ink (and cyberink) had been spilled
on this rare planetary aspect than nearly any other, with
astrology blogs and journals awash with predictions of a coming
revolt against the status quo. Even the mainstream news, astrologically
indifferent, documented the quickening pulse of revolution
and voices chanting the mantra of change. Now, within a single
week, the astrology world's biggest news story had converged,
in a spine-tingling crescendo, with the most talked-about
U.S. election in generations.
So
I wasn't surprised to see the sheer dizzying power of these
planetary messages played out so vividly in the news, or in
the election results. I was quite surprised, though, by how
I felt personally this past week, as Saturn and Uranus tightened
the orb of their opposition. Aspects as important as this
one are often difficult for me to relate to personally;
it's as though their themes are too large to be contained
within the lives of any but a few culturally important individuals.
But this one - well, it was as though someone had hooked me
up to some cosmic amplifier and turned the volume up
to eleven.
I'm
sure you've felt some measure of this supercharged intensity
over the past couple of weeks, the buildup of energy generated
by an entire country dragging its collective feet across the
threshold of a new era. It's the emotional equivalent of shuffling
across a carpeted room on a dry day and then touching a doorknob.
When that much energy has been building up for so long, I
suppose it's natural that some of it needs to be discharged
before we can get back to business.
In
any event, a couple of days after the election I was still
having so much trouble concentrating on the tasks at hand
(including, ironically, writing an article about the Full
Moon in calming, practical Taurus) that I finally gave
up and pushed myself away from the computer. Acting purely
on instinct, I chose to discharge some static buildup with
what were, in hindsight, some characteristically Taurean rituals.
First,
I took to the sofa for an afternoon nap. I'm not one for napping,
as a rule, so this siesta was all the more satisfying for
being so rare. I woke up refreshed, but not yet eager to face
the computer. So I puttered around outside, watering plants,
doing a little weeding, a little deadheading, a little sweeping.
I exchanged friendly words with a neighbor, and recovered
the trashcans from the curbside after the weekly collection.
Ordinary things. But after an hour or so in the fresh air,
performing these humble tasks, I came inside for a cup of
tea, and I caught myself singing a contented little tune while
I waited for the kettle to boil.
I
don't suppose we can live through a revolution and expect
to remain flawlessly calm, cool, and collected. But the coming
Full Moon in Taurus, like a sensible, no-drama friend,
reminds us even in the midst of upheaval we can be restored
to calm and reason through reassuring tasks and familiar rituals;
by drinking cups of tea, walking the dog, and tending the
plants. So during this quiet Full Moon intermission in the
midst of the revolution, take time to calm yourself with the
happy monotony of unexceptional daily routines. Sometimes
when the winds
of change are storming around you, the best way to stay
grounded is to focus on the prayerful predictability of breathing
in and out.
