She struck me, dead in my heart, last night, as I walked out of a sweet-but-awkward Tinder date that had abruptly ended.
I had spent too much money, and had two drinks. I was hoping to coax his heart open by sharing some of my poetic words. Instead he announced, “I’m sorry, but I’m really tired.”
“So, you want to go home?”
“Yeah. It was nice to meet you.”
Awkward quick hug. He said, “I hope you’re ok to drive.”
“Well. . . Not quite yet. . .but I’ll stay here, or just take a walk for a while.”
I walked out of the bar, onto the street, and she captured me right away. The Moon. . . And what was that bright star above her? Ah yes. . . Venus. There She was.
I walk the streets for a half hour, my eyes glued to Her. I feel into the ache that ever growing inside of me (Cancer Moon). I felt into the desire to be fully met, to share my wonder with the eyes of another (Venus in Leo).
There was no Other. . . Although she appeared briefly. (I received a message from my sweet and fiery Leo roommate. 😊)
I am the Moon. I am Wanting.
I am Venus. I know myself. I will not settle for less than I am worth.
I am rising. I am regaining memories, recapturing pieces of my Soul.
Many of them I lent to him (Mars–to be explored more later). I ache for him still. I will see him soon.
Oh, how sweet is this journey, of Self remembering. How difficult, and sweet.
I will make Ease my home. Until I know it in my bones. Until I know fully, once again, that I am truly safe (Moon) and incorruptibly whole (Venus).
It was not long after that (maybe a week later?) that I lingered after-hours at the music studio (where I teach lessons twice a week). A music motif had appeared in my head–with a dramatic descending bassline and punctuating arpeggios in treble–and I proceeded to pick it out on the piano. “What is this song about?” I wondered. It wasn’t wistful. . . It wasn’t a breakup song. . . It definitely wasn’t a traditionally romantic song.
There was anger there. It was the anger of not being seen, of needing to reveal. Needing to reconcile a swirling range of emotions. Needing to be held and accepted in the face of ugliness and chaos.
The words started coming:
“I thought I heard you say you’re sorry.
I thought I heard you say that it wouldn’t happen again.
Maybe you meant to say you’re lonely.
You carry on that way, and hope that I’ll understand.
Well, maybe I understand,
But don’t let it happen again. . .”
The lyrics continued to wind there way out, snake-like and tortured, yet eventually (magically) finding resolution:
“I thought I heard you say you’re sorry.
You never meant to say the words that caused me harm.
Well, maybe I can say I trust you.
So make a space to lay beside me on this ground.
And here we’ll lay until our peace is found.
Here we’ll lay together on the ground.
And we won’t stand until our peace is found.”
And thus was born “Lilith’s Song”. I marveled at how the words and the music had just poured out of me (so unlike my previously labored songwriting efforts, years before). I wondered what the inspiration was. Though I understood this feminine rage, paired with a need to reconcile, it wasn’t my on story or emotions that had driven me. It felt more unicersal, somehow, like a story that wanted to be told.
That night, I got two calls–both from people who were dear to me, who had gotten caught in a bind. My Mom had been allowing a homeless gentleman (and friend of hers) to sleep in her van–and her neighbor had just called the cops. And my close friend Greg had just gotten in an argument with his in-laws. I advised both of them through their sticky situations as best I could. After hanging up the phone (for the 2nd time), it suddenly hit me–I had been feeling their emotions. I had been writing their song. This song was bigger than me.
In the months that followed, I would frequently play “Lilith’s Song” and feel a powerful cathartic cleansing of emotion, leaving me in a profoundly peaceful place (also gently rocking, with a kundalini sway). Several times after playing the song, a channeled writing came through, which I immediately transcribed.
This song was to become one of many channeled, or emotionally cleansing, songs. When my husband asked me to split up with him, merely four months later, music became my healer. More songs poured out of me, teaching me reconciliation and release. I would hear songs in the bookstore, or the drugstore, and know that they had something to teach me. So, I would download them, listen to them, move to them, cry to them, let them work their magic.
I have no doubt about the healing of words. But music goes even deeper. It strikes straight to the core. Thank you, Lilith, for teaching me to bare my heart, and to find peace in the midst of pain. I am grateful.
I thought I heard you say, “I’m a man of integrity,
so listen to me when I say that I would never do you harm.”
But what you meant to say is that you don’t see me.
And what my feelings say is this is the last alarm.
‘Cause I won’t let you do me harm.
Won’t let you hold me hostage in your arms.
I thought I heard you say you love me.
I threw my heart away, and hoped for a good return.
Maybe you meant to say you hate me!
I feel the bitter rays that shoot from your eyes when you speak.
So, maybe, I will not speak.
But I would lay down on this earth,
if you would come down from the sky.
I’ll show you what this heart is worth.
I’ve found the strength where I can cry!
And I have found the hidden place,
the place where all the secrets lie.
It’s right here we must make a space,
Well, did I hear you say, you’re sorry?
You never meant to say the words that caused me harm.
Well, maybe I can say, I trust you.
And here we’ll lay, until our peace is found.
And here we’ll lay, together on the ground.
And we won’t stand, until our peace is found.
I wound up my summer by teaching a
morning music camp this week–vocal & some keyboards–to 11 children, ages 7 to 10. They performed three choreographed songs, with solos throughout, for their parents: “Uptown Funk”, “The Fox” and “Revolting Children” from the musical “Matilda” (which they especially enjoyed!). I could tell that the parents were super impressed by their performance, and I was proud of them too!
After the camp ended, I reflected privately on my experience with the kids. (I will miss them!) They were a vibrant group and, though we had our ups and downs, they banded together to create an amazing performance.
Each child had their own voice, their own style, their own need to be heard, in their own way. Some of the kids primarily wanted to connect to the other kids. Some of them appealed often to me, for connection or assistance.
I am fascinated by the interplay between group and personal dynamics, and I often study astrology charts for this reason. (I also make a point to “collect” the kids’ birthdates on the first day of class. 😉)
I thought about the qualities that stood out to me about each child, and then noticed how that manifested in their astrology charts. For example:
* Three of the kids were very skilled at making appeals to me and the other kids, in order to generate and promote their ideas. All three have Jupiter dignified in Sagittarius.
* One girl, Ryan, was an intuitive dancer, but had fluctuating moods and levels of engagement. She has a Libra stellium of Venus (dignified)/Mars/Sun and the Moon in Cancer.
*Christopher, the youngest, was constantly singing and moving, but didn’t always want to move with our group agenda. He has Venus/Mars in Scorpio, Moon oppose Mercury, and Sun oppose Eris.
*Alyssa, an Aquarius, was very collaborative and social, but also was very helpful to me. And, she didn’t mind directing the other kids. She has Mercury oppose Saturn (also reflected in some rhythm issues), Mars in Capricorn and Venus conjunct my ascendant.
“When will he come back?”
Her heart ached for his touch,
For the gentle caress of his fingers down her spine.
His voice whispering in her ear–
It didn’t even matter what he said.
But he wasn’t coming back.
He had made that clear.
The Night had whisked him away,
In the form of a Gothic siren with dark purple lipstick and killer hypnotic dance moves.
He could have her.
It wasn’t serious anyway, and she was just as enchanted with the Moon as he was with his siren.
She had begun following the cycles,
And planting seeds for her new beginning.
Any day now.
She could feel the earth ripening with potential,
Pulling her into its dance of the seasons.
She dropped her cloak,
And let the light of the full moon envelop her–
Cascades of stars falling down her back,
Into a glowing pool of light at her feet.
This was her home, now.
Here with the stars, and the moon,
And the pool of ancestral wisdom.
No man was needed,
No other voice–
But the voice of the owls calling through the night,
But the voice of the River flowing through her veins.
Whatever happened from this point on,
Whoever came and went,
She knew this much:
She too had surrendered herself to the call of Night,
And from this point, the Mistress Moon would do with her whatever she desired.
Mars stationed retrograde this morning, so as you can imagine, he was pretty amped up yesterday. (Last day of freedom, before being thrown in the pound for 10+ weeks!)
Here’s a little Mars story for you:
My copy of the Poet’s Oracle arrived yesterday. (I’d been anticipating its arrival since seeing that it had shipped, a few days prior.)
Unfortunately, it arrived just before I left to meet up with the first of my three students. So, I grabbed the package on the way out the door, hoping I would find a moment to open it.
I hopped on the Beltway, and got off 6 exits up the road. Stopped at the 1st of three lights, in the left-most turn lane .
Ah! An opportunity. Brief. Just enough time to wrestle open the package.
And going again, holding the cards in my left hand as I drive. Another light soon.
Why is this car to my right keeping pace with me? I ignore him.
Light number 2. The guy pulls up right beside me. Okay, fine, then. Window down. (He’s attractive, actually. Late 20s? Not a cop? I hope.)
“Were you drawing tarot cards as you were driving?” (Whoa!)
“No!” I respond.
“Well, that’s what it looked like you were doing.”
“That’s because I opened up a new deck at the last light.”
“Draw me a card!”
“Okay!” (drawing from the middle)
“It says, “Hold fast! Keep on sticking to what you’re doing, despite the obstacles. It’s related to Mars.”
Light changes to green.
“Whoo! I’m a Martian!” he cries.
Windows up. He speeds off, pulls ahead of me, makes it through that 3rd light before it turns red.
I sit and wait to turn left, and look deeper into the card.
“There’s something peculiar about the way she walks,” he said.
“I don’t trust it.
She walks as though she’s hiding something.
She walks as though she deserves to be exposed.”
“What do you think she’s hiding?” I asked.
“A secret identity of some kind?”
“Could be,” he replied.
“But I think it’s a plot. She’s trying to undermine us. She’s waiting for our weaknesses to become apparent, so she can pounce on them.”
“Could be,” I replied, and sat down on the bench, motioning for him to join me.
“But really, I suspect she’s just being herself.
And who she is is different than us.
We’re like different breeds of animal, intermingling.
We’re like a neon sunset, exploding from the Creator’s off-kilter box of colors.
We’re not meant to be the same.
And her being her, being different, really has nothing to do with us.”
“If you say so. . .”
He looked off across the lake, and was silent for a long time.
It looked like his brain had grabbed hold of something that he wasn’t at all prepared to let go of. He was prepared only to devoured it, to rip it into shreds.
“You know,” he said, “when I think about it, you’re kind of funny that way too.”
He looked right at me now, and his face was soft on the outside, but steely underneath.
“You don’t really have any interest in making people comfortable, do you?”
“I guess not,” I admitted, turning away.
“But it’s not about that. It’s not about making people feel uncomfortable.”
“Okay then. What is it about?”
“It’s about opening their eyes. And helping them to see things differently.”
“Mmm. . . Okay. If you say so.” He didn’t seem like he was totally accepting what I said as an answer. . . But, so be it.
“Look,” I said. “It’s okay if you don’t like Jocelyn. . . That’s fine. That’s not the point. . . The point is. . .”
Ugh. This was frustrating.
“What?” He said. “The point is, what?”
“The point is. . . She’s not you. She walks to her own beat. And that’s fine for her to have her own drummer.
Just like its fine for you to be all Mars in Cancer, and to care about the tribe, and to plunge yourself into taking care of all of us.
I appreciate that. I think it’s a gift, and a service. But you have to let us breathe sometimes too. You have to let us be ourselves, and not take it personally.”
He nodded. I could still feel the steeliness underneath, but he was melting, a bit.
“Fair enough. I don’t want to be a dictator, or tell people how to be. I’m just not sure who I can trust sometimes.”
He looked up, and we met eyes. We both breathed deeply. I felt the tingle, again.
“I know,” I said. “I feel the same. I can’t tell you to trust me. But I feel your heart, even when I don’t know exactly where you’re coming from.”
“Yes,” he said, slowly. “And I feel yours.”
Have you felt a bit defensive lately?
A tad bit “on edge”?
You have a lot on your plate, and you’ve been juggling priorities for everybody, not just for yourself.
So, maybe you’re even feeling a bit used–
As though everyone else is just looking out for their own agenda,
And they don’t hesitate to take your assistance for granted.
Stop right there.
Everyone else is not to blame.
Nor are you.
Here’s the thing:
Until you have your own priorities straight,
Until you stand up and protect your space,
Other people will assume that you are willing and available.
Because you do care, and because you have unclear boundaries, you are willing to accommodate the needs of others.
That’s the sign of a giving heart, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but–
You need time to recoup now.
You need space away from the agendas of others.
You need time to assess your own priorities,
To recover and remember who you are.
There is nothing wrong with that.
Take the time that you need.
Claim your sovereign right to invest in your values,
To protect your time and your heart from careless invasion.
You decide who enters your space, no one else.
You decide when to let your guard down and when to rest and retire.
Your needs are sacred.
Your emotions are a barometer of your needs.
Honor your needs, first and foremost, and then you can make yourself available to tend to the needs of others.
You deserve to be happy.
Contentment is available to you now, and at all times.
Drink in the support of the Universe.
Let it hold you; let it fill your every pore.
There is no need to stress now.
There is no need to tense, or even to try.
Simply reach out and accept the love that surrounds you,
And know that there is nothing to fear.
Life can be uncomplicated, like this:
Simply giving and receiving, and opening to the joy that connection brings.
This simplicity, this unshakeable knowledge that the Universe has your back, is your birthright.
Know that your true nature is Love, and that is why you see Love all around you.
By blessing others, by opening your heart to the exchange of this most profound gift,
You invite the blessings of life to flow, abundantly.
Be blessed now, and rest in the true nature of your being,
Which is open, and kind, and generous, and trusting of love