CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): This would be a good week to celebrate failure -- to laugh about the comic horror stories of your past defeats, to gain a new appreciation for the prickly lessons you learned, and to let go of any regret, shame, or anger you might still be lugging around. I'd even recommend that you and your friends stage a Brag About Your Failures party. Try to outdo each other as you render in ignominious detail the things that went wrong, the mistakes you made, and the people who let you down. I think you'll be amazed at how effectively this will dissolve the karma left over from those misadventures -- and help free you from their ghostly clutches.
first of all, apologies for my total and complete lack of literary motivation this last week. exhaustion and stress just hit me like a mack truck and i've been peeling myself off the pavement ever since. however, memorial day gave me a surprise three-day weekend, and believe me, i've been utilizing it to the fullest of my ability.
of course, the above statement would only make *ds* and *ks* laugh, as they spent a considerable amount of time monday trying to teach me to relax. it's a case of point of view and scale, i think. my definition of "relax" is their definition of "uptight," while their definition of "relax" is my definition of "laziness" as far as it applies to me. i can't stand doing nothing.
as far as my previous post, it was originally an email to *ws*, whom i've known for eons, it seems. at least as long as li'l *c*'s lifetime, anyway. but he wrote me back to tell me that i'm the most together, strongest person he's known. part of me wants to downplay the compliment, but another part of me is kind of staggered by it, too. there's an eighteen-year difference between us, and he's saying that in all that time he's never met anyone stronger? more together?
perhaps i'm a little too hard on myself, if that's the case. his compliment is saying quite a bit. i simply know exactly what i want and focus on it. i wanted a close, loving family, and look what i have now: adopted parents who love me, siblings who stand by me, a great-and-getting-greater relationship with the bio-dad, a few close friends that are my light and joy. i have the perfect family. now that that's squared away, i've shifted my focus to finding my Funky groovemate. and i will find him soon. i know it.
there's simply no time, i think, to focus on the past in all its warped wretchedness. there were also some fantabulous times in there, too. *rj* texted me the other day with a pipe dream about getting the "old school" crowd from our choir together at disneyland. yeah, while we had some good times, i wouldn't want to see any of them again (except for one or two exceptions). and i definitely wouldn't want to go back to SoCal to do it, either. every trip i've taken back down to cali has made me physically sick for weeks afterward. literally.
this tells me something.
but no, too busy, too happy, too productive to be dwelling on the monsters from my past that i've slain. people said i indulged my monsters too much, lamented and played the victim. what they didn't realize was the power of descent into the underworld, a woman's psychic need for catharsis being so drastically different from a man's psychic need to rise up and conquer. what for men is the dark path, the path which robert bly literally compares with Darth Vader ("dark father") is what is necessary for a woman's psyche to come out whole on the other side. remember persephone, who was not kidnapped by some Big Bad but kidnapped herself.
i went down a long time ago, and fed and fed and fed my monsters until they ate themselves to death. there were a few dregs i had to shake off, and *m*'s poison had to be completely flushed out of my system. i still shudder when i look back in retrospect and see just how thoroughly he had infected me.
now i can laugh at myself a bit. i can recognize the unhealthiness in others and stay clear of it. i can be selective and only choose the company of those who treasure and stimulate my Trinity of Self: mind, heart, and soul.
i can't wait. this weekend, finally feeling a bit rested and clearer-headed, i'm promising myself a heavy-duty juicer after bills get paid. there's dinner at the parents' tomorrow, which always feeds my soul and fills my fridge with leftovers. then again, leftovers feed my soul, too. sleeping in feeds my soul. living with my wonderful siblings, petting my affectionate kitties, feeds my soul. it gets me centered, flushes out my system, and makes me healthy and able to receive the multitudinous blessings the universe conspires to throw at me daily. it makes me able to truly laugh, which has the power to break all curses...even those left over from an ignominious past.
i don't think i'll hold a BAYF party, but only because the laughing soul should be shaking things up, turning things upside down and inside out to find the hilarity in every moment. the minute you catch yourself taking yourself too seriously, getting yourself stressed out or worked up, is the minute you need to stuff marshmallows in your mouth and play Chubby Bunny. it's the minute you need to play Pop Goes the Weasel with the Jiggy Snake.
it's the minute you need to leave dollar bills tucked beneath people's windshield wipers. it's the minute you need to replace all your boring, ball-point pens with Funky pens that light up when you use them. it's the minute you need to claim a signature color (hint: mine's PINK!!!) that just says, "HEY! it's ME! aren't i just fan-funking-tabulous?!!?!"
it's the minute you need to say good-bye to the inner flaming narcissist as you strip naked and run barefoot over yards and yards of bubble wrap.
last year was the Year of Secrets, the last chapter of my persephonic journey. now i wear the dark crown of the underworld and it's time to turn my self to bigger and better things, like gazing into the maw of happiness. this is the Year of the Delena, and i'm a pomegranate priestess of the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail, baby!