Back when I was talking about Mercury going direct, I mentioned that if “between July 14th and . . . August 8th . . . you ‘react[ed]’ to something you should have ‘reflected upon” and now you seem to have screwed yourself into a sitchyation without a decent exit plan, “there’s always the Blue Moon (conjuncted with Neptune = water) at the end of the month to try your hand at amending the situation.” I suggested that this was particularly good for “those bells that can’t be unrung, stones that can’t be unthrown, words that can’t be taken back, and acts that can’t be – um – unacted.”
To elaborate on what I said in “The Gale,” the intersection of Confrontation and Forgiveness is a two way traffic exchange – a cross roads if you will. Four way stop sign. Yield. Right of way and all. (I don’t know what I’m saying, now I’m just rambling and hoping this means something to one of y’all.)
Well, that’s coming up on Friday, isn’t it? Just around 8 AM, to be precise. In a Mercurial hour (in my neck of the woods). Flow tide (to high) indicating change.
If timing is crucial to your Work, then take a look at all the water/emotion and communication.
- Full Moon
- In Neptune
- At Flow Tide
- At Mercury Hour
- If only it were a Wednesday. . . And while Libra is “air,” we still have the concept of the scales of balance and justice.
If you aren’t too busy at 8AM Friday, maybe it’s your bonus round good for a do-over, an apology, a little backsies.
I keep thinking about forgiveness and how, like recovering from addictions, it’s a daily commitment. I have this one person (not) in my life who ripped my heart to shreds, stomped all over it, tore my family life to bits, threatened everything I had ever worked for, forced me to make choices rivaled only by Zofia Zawistowski’s (not exaggerating), and set me on a road to four years of unnecessary penance. I was actually expected to be happy when this twisted relationship married into my family (they announced the engagement on my birthday, btw). When I wasn’t, I was ousted.
By my sister. The one who practically raised me. And then, in turn, I took care of her children. Who then took care of my children. Who now cannot speak to two beloved cousins, an aunt and uncle, and second-cousins their own age.
I wasn’t invited to the wedding, by the way. As a matter of fact, the bride told the groom that if I showed my face, she wouldn’t go through with it. “It’s her or me.”
I met with my “niece,” my former-best-friend (and magical partner of sorts). A Sagittarian who, despite her constant mantra, “I apologize!” couldn’t make a sincere apology if her life depended on it. I met with her in the weeks after the wedding and told her, “I know you didn’t ask me to, but I forgive you for everything you did to me and my family.” I couldn’t carry that hurt around anymore. So I laid it all down, sword and shield. Laid it down at her feet and left it for her to deal with. Walked away.
Down. Down. Both of em down. Down by the riverside. Sword and shield. Don’t study war no more. Lay all that mess down. Sword and shield. (Morrison, Toni. Beloved. 120.)
I thought that was going to be that. But – I have to decide every galling day not to pick it up again. I see it: my sword and my shield just laying there getting rusty. I want to pick them up. I want to pick them up and slay things. I want to wage war on every birthday, every Mother’s Day, every Christmas, every time I hear Night Ranger, every time I run across a photo of my nephew as a baby or my sister and me at my graduation, every time my mother calls and we have to avoid the subject, every time I drive near their neighborhood. But I don’t. I resist. With every fiber of my being.
Anyone who thinks forgiveness is “passive” has never really forgiven. Maybe never been forgiven. Because knowing, as I do, what a daily struggle it is to forgive – to actively forgive – I think that if anyone were to forgive me a transgression that big, I would realize what a gift I had been given.
Now, before you go beatifying me Saint Bad Witch, A) I’m not dead yet B) I haven’t been able to replicate that feat. There’s this other, not unconnected – thing. We’ll go with “thing.” I vacillate between A) being full of rage and hate and anger and hurt and B) not giving a rat’s arse.
This is not forgiveness. This *is* passive. This is, perhaps, avoidance.
Like I told Aubs earlier today, the most crucial step in forgiveness (according to Bertie) is in “confrontation.” It requires articulation. In my case, I have no desire to confront or articulate or spin any amount of energy on that – issue. We’ll go with “issue.” (See, I’n such a state of avoidance I can’t articulate – even when I try.)
So, is this where Bert says to elicit divine intervention? When confrontation and articulation are unattainable? And I don’t mean intervention to sic the gods on the other – I mean to intervene and cause a situation where articulation is possible.
I always assumed she meant unattainable because the guy is dead or the woman carries a Glock. But maybe an argument could be made for asking the divine to give us a hand when we just can’t get ourselves arsed-up enough to articulate, to confront, to forgive.
But that means working on myself. Right? Asking the divine to change me so that I am prepared to and capable of confrontation and articulation and, therefore, forgiveness. Alas, as the great prophet Michael Joseph Jackson taught us, “If you wanna make the world a betteh place, take a look atcha self and then make that – change.” And then we are back to my regla número uno: Change your insides in order to manifest exterior change. Above, below, microcosm, macrocosm, blah, blah blah. It’s easier said then done when you’ve got a groovy sword and shield that could make some serious external modifications. And right fast too.
No worries, readers. I have no desire to use the sword. The shield, I’ll hang on to if it’s all the same. And if it comes to blows I can be like Tyrion Lannister in the Vale. (For those not Ice and Fire geeks, he kills an attacker with a shield.)
For Friday, I believe my bonus round will be to work on tenacity. On accout’o’ I’m getting worn around the edges with this forgiveness crap.
Last week I felt sincere Schadenfreude when I heard that she had suffered a series of losses. This is not my usual character. I felt a wave of relief when I realized that I didn’t have to see her name (with my family name attached to it) on a door-plaque every time the elevators opened one floor too soon. (Yes, we worked together too.) I hoped against hope that something would happen that would cause someone to get peeved enough, see my weaponry laying at her feet, and skewer her with my discarded sword.
Indeed, I am losing the grip I once had on this forgiveness thing.
Maybe I’ll even find what Dr. King called, “radical forgiveness” (Strength to Love). Bearing in mind that forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same thing, maybe I can locate the strength to lay down that other sword and shield too. (Instincts screaming, “Noooo! Keep the shield, keep the shield!”) But then again, maybe I’m going in the wrong direction. Maybe when working on forgiveness I best start with the man in the mirror.