Has the crying stopped yet? At least for today? At least for the hour?
I expose myself to you, scurrying out from my secretive 12th-house, with a dispatch from the waterworld. Both my waking and my dreaming worlds have recently been overtaken by emotion: undifferentiated, non-specific, largely unrelated to events in my own life (if, that is, my life is its own separate entity, distinct from Life Itself).
I had intended to write to you earlier, dear reader, but I was overcome with tears. As I write now, I almost began to excuse myself for... for what? For not fighting a tide? For listening to that 'other' wisdom, which told me not to bother trying to form into coherence what seems to prefer formlessness? For, instead, sprawling out in motionless receptivity for a couple days and taking it all in?
I suppose I had a choice in the matter, but it sure didn't feel that way at the time. I could've swam my little heart out, in an earnest effort to outpace the undertow and get back to shore on my time and my terms, so I might meet self-imposed (and, therefore, arbitrary) deadlines for items unrelated to my present state. But I chose not to be a robot. I chose to give the currents their fair due. I figured, accurately so, that, with time and respect, the ebb-and-flow would return me to where I needed to be to continue practical functioning.
Even now, I question the wisdom of attempting to articulate the experience, since the element I seek to describewater! water! water!doesn't always fit neatly into words. Hell, I'm not even sure what I want to share with you. Maybe a heartfelt glimpse from another angle, a few steps adrift from the informative astro-reporter I typically portray from my spot on the web. An experiential exemplification of how I also live what I write about sometimes in ways that surprise me, even though, as the astrologer, I supposedly know what's coming and ought therefore to be ready for it. The wisest astrologers are also impacted by the planetary goings-on; just when we haughtily believe we've got a competent handle on how the energies might manifest in our lives and have 'prepared accordingly', they pop up entirely elsewhere to remind us of our humble anybodyness.
I awoke with wet eyes, sobbing at the achy necessity of having to arise yet again and muddle through one more day. Not a suicidal ideation, to be clear, just recognition of how hard life often is especially for those of us sensitive enough to feel the pain all around us, or the sense-memory of pre-incarnational existence as an amphibious fetus or interdimensional light-beam. I cried at the feigned futility of overcoming stubborn obstacles, even as I was actively overcoming them. I wept at the news program about central Africa, its shots of villages in ruin and one old man's nostalgic yearnings for the 'good times' of brutal exploitive colonialism and then, though logic would deem it a far more superficial trigger, the tears continued even after the channel changed and a reality-TV family was (halfheartedly) trying to find peace with each other. A loving touch from my partner brought the wet eyes back. Later, as the tears welled up again, I had to urge him to please stop looking at internet pictures of adoptable puppies within my range-of-vision.
In the symbiotic flow of a grand water trine, the tears stream more easily, unobstructed by action or reason or purpose. First Mercury and then Venus, both in Cancer, have formed dual trines to Saturn in Scorpio and Neptune in Pisces in the past week. This gives us some idea of what to expect next month, after both Mars and Jupiter have entered Cancer and form their own, arguably-more-pronounced grand water trine with Saturn and Neptune (at its height July 16-22). Take note: Whatever strangely heightened (or exaggerated) emotions you experienced in the past week are likely to reappear, in some similar or complementary form, during that time.
As Cancer is my rising sign, I am no stranger to fast-cycling moods or on-the-surface sensitivities. Leading up to this grand water trine, the prior lineup of planets in Gemini filled my 12th-house with much (insightful or distracting?) mental activity. I found myself uttering (aloud and in my own head) a whole bunch of seemingly contradictory statements about how wonderful everything was and how terrible everything was, how I was on top of the world and also an ugly monster and a failure and a waste of a human life, all of which dovetailed with a paralleling schizophrenic shiftiness of emotional outlooks, ecstatic to morose and none of which were particularly accurate observations about what was actually going on. I experienced this Gemini as an instinct to verbalize what ultimately proved merely to be a bunch of psychic noise, a case of my erroneous interpretive efforts not doing the feelings their justice.
With the shift into Cancer and its concurrent bodily release of emotion, I was short-circuited in my efforts to interpret through words. The emotion was palpably there, and made no sense, so I stopped trying to make sense of it.
Until, that is, today, when I have somehow recaptured sufficient verbal capability to produce this. I hope it provides comfort to any other souls out there, deluged by the water and unsure what 'to do' with it. Maybe just accept it for what it is?