Taurus 23° (May 13)
Friday the 13th. My dreams are a torture I am living a nightmare for realz. I cannot believe the utter devastation that has been caused. I feel like I’m in some kind of alternate reality. My sleep patterns are crap. I honestly cannot believe the total assassination. I would never do that to anyone. Although I am accused of it, but that’s what perps do—they accuse you of what they themselves are doing. If it wasn’t so damaging this cliché would be laughable. There isn’t much more to say. My hope is that when I revisit this Blague I will be writing a good deal of book material. I don’t know if this is something S. is going to want to work on. I can only hope so.
Aquarius is a contradiction in terms: at once conventional in the nerdiest ways, and yet the freest, unfettered freak on the astrological block. From childhood, she is folksy, a homebody who revels in group activities with close family—quilting, performing sonatas, playing cribbage. She makes friends and would-be love matches in settings where she and like-minds gather, at work or play. Many an Aquarian partner with people who perform the same job, role or function as she does. Friends can find her choice in mates to be questionable. It can seem she isn’t aspirational enough in love. She is, after all, like The Star card in the Tarot, which portrays the Waterbearer, a naturally exalted, twinkling figure in her loved ones’ lives. She is Tennessee William’s Stella to his brutish Stanley. Aquarius is ruled by Uranus, named for the god of the starry universe, and it’s fixed-air status, translating to a point of light, is symbolized by the star. Aquarius, with her far away eyes, is metaphorically coming from another planet, and yet she is looked upon as a beacon, a north star, who helps others navigate their own human condition. The classic Waterbearer is Hebe, goddess of youth, “daughter”, the maiden form, of Hera (Roman: Juno). Divine Hebe falls for mortal brute Heracles (meaning: beloved of Hera). Hebe is a “descending goddess” deigning (better than slumming) to love a mortal who, by that love, is too made divine. Then there’s the pitcher toting Iris, Hera’s messenger, goddess of the rainbow, the path she takes to bring “good news” down to mortals, thus elevating them. The rainbow’s seven colors are synonymous with the veils of Salome (and her own revealing show) counterpart to John the Baptist, the biblical water bearer. Aquarius is designed to reveal inspiring truths, that good news, to be a revelation, raising up, if just one significant brute. To some, she casts her pearls. Both things can be true. Just one Aquarius paradox: For all her starry notions she thrills to play on the ground—Stella and Stanley got those rainbow-colored lights spinning. Her sign’s motto is I know, and we tend to look to the Aquarian—Oprah, Ellen—not just for answers but for new insights and inspiration. To their zillion fans what they dole out is nothing short of manna.
Whether a cupful of immortal nectar for the gods, or a holy grail o’ grace, or a backward dip from Baptist John, Aquarius is serving life everlasting, the ultimate balm, salve, salvation. A Waterbearer superpower: She champions friends and lovers simply by association. If she likes them, so should I. How else to explain Dr. Phil? Aquarius gives life. The wife-mother of Uranus is Gaia, meaning all life, not strictly Earth. Uranus energy is sudden, shocking, revolutionary, and as I always say: Aquarius keeps a packed real or metaphorical bag under her bed. When she goes, she’s gone; but it can be a long time coming. She is essentially the most free-wheeling of women, if only she can remember the fact. Though she is a revelation to others, she must mind her own awakenings, also a long time coming. While giving others direction, she needs to read her own signposts, follow her own star, be her own shining beacon, and go where true love is.
Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2022 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.