New Moon in Scorpio

Oh boy.  If you’re anywhere near my age, and even if you’re not, if you’ve read your fill of R. Crumb comix, you’ll know that Scorpio is a heavy sign.  And the New Moon is the darkest time of the lunar cycle, nothin’ shining out there in the night, ‘cept some stars, and those stars are gonna be…Scorpio.  Of course, the usual culprits are all out there too:  Castor, Pollux, the Milky Way.  But you catch my drift.  We have a Darker Than Usual Dark of the Moon event going on tonight.

Could be why my neighbor’s dogs are hysterically howling.  I hope they stop soon, very soon.  I am comforted by the fact that I have no weapons at all, for I would be sorely tempted to lob a grenade into their yard.  Alas, I am without grenades.

As for my mind, why, it seems oddly balanced tonight.  I had a couple of heroism opportunities earlier in the evening that cheered me up considerably.  I love being a hero.  Swooping in and saving somebody’s day just juices the heck out of my day too.  I have to be careful with that, though.  Grandiosity lurks behind the Superhero cape, drat it all.  Do you think Superman was manic?  Green Lantern?  Spiderman, fer cryin’ out loud???   Dude goes creeping around headfirst down walls, now that guy has got to be oozing some serious mania juice.  Does he get labeled, lose his job?  Heck no, he gets famous, makes movies, gets the girl!  This proves that real life is all wrong.

Scorpio.  A deep, deep water sign.  It’s my father’s sign.  And tomorrow is his 87th birthday, in the deep black waters of the New Scorpio Moon.  I noticed today that he’s in his Scorpio mind tripping mode, where he flows through mental images in gorgeous non-sequiturs that drive my mother mad (she’s a very practical Sagittarius) and make me grin.

Dad found his place in life and kept it.  His mind is all images:  he’s an artist.  He got to be exactly who he is in life, got to do it almost right up until the end.  I know that is an enigmatic sentence.  I will explain it.

Most people spend a considerable part of their lives trying to figure out who they are and what they want to be when they grow up.  My dad fell into his field on one of the first tries, and unintentionally at that.  He’s a clay artist, has been since around 1950.  Just fell into it, fell in love with it, and has done it all his life.  He’s managed to engineer his life such that even through a few major bumps in life’s road, he still managed to keep his clay life between the ditches.

I’m curious about this, because even though I have always known who I am and what my life’s work is, I have had little success at keeping myself from careening straight into those ditches.  I have known many tow trucks.  I am no stranger to the lonely walk on the side of the road, in the days before cell phones.

Early on, it seemed that the art of life lay in the grace of picking one’s self up and dusting one’s self off, and climbing back in the saddle.  I did that a lot.  I still do, but the saddle has moved a lot closer to the ground, or so it seems.  On one hand, it’s easier to climb back on.  On the other, falling off hurts more.

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4 Comments

  1. D'Alta

     /  October 27, 2011

    Awhile back I was reading Blue Highways, William Least Heat Moon. I was actually listening to it on CDs, my favorite companion when traveling between home and my mother’s. He was talking with someone, down along the Atlantic where crabs grow and are caught. I wasn’t listening but thinking about something that had caught my eye on the side of the road, or perhaps inside my head. All of a sudden, there was talk of crabs and talk of Cancer the Crab, my sign. Crabs move forward, make progress, by moving sideways. I thought about all the side trips my life had taken, and I realized how typically crab-like I was…

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  2. Nancy Pace

     /  June 16, 2015

    Hi Laura – I’m up late reading your blog because it relaxes me! Your writing style reminds me of Karl Ove Knausgaard’s. I’m sleepless, not well, bipolar, and I struggle continually, like you. I also relate to your compelling and honest observations and experiences. Having discovered your recent posts, I will now go back to the beginning to see what I can learn about life from you, because whether or not, I will enjoy reading your posts, and will find myself relaxing in your generous company to go off to sleep. So please keep writing. And google Karl Ove Knausgaard, and read a little of his writing, and see what you think? Thank you, Laura. I’m sure you’ll hear more from me. You certainly deserve all your recognition and awards! Namaste – Nancy P.

    Reply

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