Eclipse season

Eclipse season is nearly over but it took me out – emotionally, mentally and physically. But if you know a thing or two about me you know that I come back stronger than a 90s trend… 

I’ve been having a hard time adjusting
I had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting

My Gods, it’s been a minute since I wrote something here. I needed that break, I wanted to fall in love with writing again and I finally am feeling that seed blooming in me once more. Perhaps it is the eclipses, or back to back new moon in Virgo, but I am here, and I am back.

So much has happened. Spring and summer are finally over (yes, finally) and autumn is already here, blessing us with the last warm weekend for the foreseeable future. 

Now, I am still into sun and warmth, but I feel like I need some colder air to fill my lungs. Something that will make me feel alive again. Because lately my life feels like it’s not mine anymore, like I am existing and not necessarily living. 

And maybe I don’t quite know what to say
But I’m here in your doorway

Eclipse is a drama. It’s chaos, it’s absolute mayhem. And going back and forth between the lunar eclipse and now a partial solar eclipse made my head spin, feeling like I am balancing on a tightrope. 

But I am finally learning how to balance on it, and am finding myself really excelling dancing on the edge. It’s better. I am getting better at this. Perhaps it’s all the life-changing books I am reading lately? 

I read “A room of one’s own” for the first time and I was both angry and amazed. Virginia Woolf is the queen of “stream of consciousness” type of writing, and while at first it was weird, I found it powerful. Empowering. Her words resonated with me in a way nothing and no one else has in a very, very long time. 

They told me all of my cages were mental
So I got wasted like all my potential

There is a conflict inside me – I feel weak, weaker and not in the best place to make any kind of decision – I am tired, exhausted and could sleep for a week. That’s the eclipse and seasons changing, inevitably. That’s probably my low iron, craving for moments of reprise and silence. 

That’s living in my suitcase for the past month and a half – between my parents and a week in London, I spent weekends at my apartment, in my home. Conflicted, because I didn’t want to be alone (so I stayed with my parents), but craving being home. 

Conflicted, because I rebel against decisions – both making them and seeing others make them for me. I don’t want to make decisions. But something in me is screaming when I am being put through the motions. And yet, I want to be put through the motions. 

And maybe that’s why the rebellion is quiet and calm, because deep down I know that all things are happening for me, in my favor, and never against me or to me. 

I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back
I have a lot of regrets about that

Eclipses also brought me melancholy, which I welcome like my oldest friend. I don’t dwell in it this time around, I just… Sit with it for a moment. I let it pass, and then I am once again left to make decisions, to influence and inspire. 

I can’t believe I wasn’t able to write all summer. I feel like it’s been brewing for a little too long, as if the lid on the pot was merely tipped to let the air escape. And my writing was bubbling, but it couldn’t be poured, it couldn’t spill over. 

Maybe it needed a moment, maybe the lid had to be kept over to eliminate the anger, the yearning and angst. Perhaps that wasn’t meant to be at that time. And know? As the air gets colder, as the sun dips lower and lower over the horizon, each key stroke feels like I am coming home.

Like I am finally unpacking the last suitcase, putting it away and making tea. It feels like dusting my books, my embroidery and my watercolors. It feels like me.

And my words shoot to kill when I’m mad
I have a lot of regrets about that

So much happened over the past few months. So many of my little dreams came true – seeing “The Kiss” with my own, teary eyes. Scoring some concert tickets (not yet Oasis). Reading something life-altering. Immersing myself in poetry. Studying something new, even though it’s a struggle (I put up a good fight!).

I feel like I opened yet another layer of me to the world, and even the eclipse couldn’t stand in my way. Or maybe, just maybe, the eclipses were here to help? It’s a bit hard to believe, but then again – show me how it can get better, no? 

Eclipse is surprising. It keeps us moving, it puts us through the cosmic motions and helps see life through a different, interstellar lens. It’s unstoppable. It is. And as it brought me to my knees, battered and blue, I am here, writing, typing my soul away, eager and desperate to convey all my thoughts on this blank sheet. 

Autumn is almost here. Libra season. My time to thrive, my chance to change the prophecy. And I fully intend on doing so! Even though, just the other week I stumbled upon one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson. 

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us! 

Emily Dickinson

So cheeky. So… So Emily. I don’t remember why I thought of this poem and then it found me, and I took it as my own quiet rebellion. Of course I am not a Nobody. I am a Somebody. 

I like being a Somebody, just as much as I like my tea in the morning – with bergamot and a touch of honey. I like it as much as I like my sunflowers and lilies, like Klimt and van Gogh. 

I firmly believe now that penguins are my signs from the Universe – that I am on my path, on the right one for me, that I am held and supported, and of course tested. Penguins are cute, resilient and they wobble – just like I am sometimes, as I go through my cosmic motions. 

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

I could write, and write and write the eclipse away, but I know now that the spark is back, that my seed bloomed into a sunflower and it will survive the darkness of autumn and winter. 

It will thrive, because I will remember to water it with tea and poetry, I will cherish it with rest and quiet moments. I will remember how to breathe. Perhaps I will read some life-changing books again and get mad about it, because how many times can you flip your life up-side-down? 

How silly of me to think for a moment that I can take these things for granted. How lucky I am to have this little life of mine. How could I ever shrink myself for someone else’s comfort? 

Eclipse is rebirth. And so is this post.