Tuesday, December 18, 2012

30.5 Degrees of Fire: A Strange Fire Ignited

30 Days of Lunar Measure


The Gypsy left one day after Waxing Half Moon in Aquarius,

The 19th of November, 2012

The 19th of December is the Waxing Half Moon in Pisces... Tomorrow will be 31 days
from half moon to half moon.  + 11 = 42

While I allow all that is to be, without attaching results or expectations, I have to say I feel like I have lived lifetimes within these 30 days.  A tumultuous time exist now.  Sometimes I feel I live on the sea, riding the high waves and then the doldrums set in.  I want to offer gratitude for my muse.  There is a monumental imagination within me.  I think sometimes it is a muse unto itself.  So for the real human muses and my imaginary maybe more Greek-like invisibles,  I thank you. 

I have been wanting to write about the synchronicity that just keeps aching to be known within my life.  I might be considered crazy like those religious fanatics out there that actually believe that the Virgin birth was an actual scientific event.  My grandfather, passed on Dec 7th, 2012, my birthday.  How it went down was amazing, but that is not the point here.  I don't understand my affection for water, but he was probably the most amazing man I have ever known.  He was a sailor, but raised by the water, and a Pisces.   We were very close.  He was in WWII out on a giant steel vessel.  He was only a baker.  I just can't help but wonder about my obsession with water, sailors, ships and the such.  Some would say I was a fool about my pondering. 

I have a new view of Odyssey and Odysseus.  The warrior who returns after the brutal war.  My grandfather was blown off a ship, on fire.  A kamikaze hit his flat top.  When he returned to America my grandmother was a mixture of Penelope and Calypso.  For my grandfather did not have the luxury of having a witch-beauty-lover to help him recover from such violence and loss.  So my grandfather's sailing days ended.  He became a land locked father and husband.  When a hero becomes intimate with death out at sea something shifts and the journey must be finished.  The hero must return to a place of refuge or be lost forever.  

My grandmother and grandfathers stories are equivalent to the story of Homer for the Greeks.  I have been told of my grandfathers adventure out at sea and in port.  He met my grandmother on leave in Boston.  It was a two day meeting, and a whole life was built with me being conceived by some dimension of it.  I was like my grandfather's fifth child.  How much is a child influenced by love, and all the dimensions of it?  I am still trying to figure it out.  The stories, adventures and journeys that seduced me as a child have never left.  Half of those adventures and journeys I was in the middle of, as my grandfather's sidekick. If he was Peter Pan then I was Tinker Bell, ever faithful flight prone sprite.  Thus my obsession with it seems ordinary now, maybe. 

Is it a coincidence that some friend of mine is out unreachable exactly as my grandfather was for his mother and soon-to-be-wife for years?  I have to endure 42 days....3 days on land...and another 42.  It is strange at least, I think. 

The mystery continues to haunt and inspire with its own agenda. 

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