The upcoming Full Moon in Aries will be a Super Moon in the Northern Hemisphere, which means the Moon appears at its largest from Earth. The concurrent Lunar Eclipse will be best visible to us Arizonans at 7:47 p.m. (here's a nifty site to find maximum viewing times in your city). Every Full Moon opposes the Sun, thereby activating a pair of signs; for this lunation, the Aries/Libra channel is turned up. I can best describe the dance between these two poles as balancing the impulse, authority and uniqueness of our selves with the yearning to gel socially and environmentally and to belong. In Aries, we find the smoldering desire for self-actualization via understanding the instrument of our own being. In solitude, according to writer and social critic Thomas Mann, we can birth our original selves. And the Ram does enjoy its alone time. Yet if we carry a "blazing hearth in [our] soul" without sharing our warmth, the intense burn of our bottled up offerings can feel unbearable.
Countless creatives laud solitude as an essential key to knowing ourselves and earthing our genius. Personal projects flourish within a sacred space we create and where we give ourselves exactly what we need: quiet, inspiration, pampering, ritual or perhaps play. Willful Aries fully supports healthy boundaries and dedicated, vigorous pursuits (and fun play!). In solitude we are transformed. I feel fairly safe to say every path to spirit/realization includes some form of intentional seclusion. The root of alone is the Old English all ane, literally "all one." As we shift, expand and change, we will almost inevitably encounter resistance and misunderstanding in the outside world. To aspire to truth, integrity, and authenticity (all Aries values) requires the courage to be alone sometimes... or often. And not just physically. Even if we don't meet with outright rejection as we bring forth our uniqueness, we still struggle with these inexplicable realizations and the out-there but juicy and irreplaceable wisdom housed within each of us.
We experience all kinds of rejection in life which adds layers upon the social mask we wear. We cover and tame our truths, our enthusiastic hearts and our big dreams because it is too painful to bear their being dismissed or ridiculed. We buffer and dull the edge of our engagement with this world. The locus of connection where self meets other and world is Libra territory and the consequences of our surface-level engagement abound. Every "awesome!" "great!" or "amazing!" reflects how we are ultimately stuck, in fear, in the shallow end of the connection pool. This maybe sounds extreme; I myself respond superficially to life all.. the.. time and I don't feel like I'm in a constant state of fear paralysis. But think about it: the efficient, automated, soul-scant exchange dominates in our convenience-driven culture. To go deeper, we have to pry open and release ourselves from the mighty jaws of social conditioning and that takes tenacity and strength -not to mention vulnerability!
Our burning need to share is not satisfied by these fly-by interactions. We also see so much over-sharing because our landscape of connection is so very arid and stark. Aries is a sign of will. Without getting too esoteric, we can distinguish the motivations of our personality (typically in response or service to our self-image) and the subtle impulses of our seed of potential - the self to actualize - in this lifetime. Neither set of drives is "non-spiritual" or bad in any way. But moving from the promptings of our bliss or purpose carries a resiliency and positions us within a perspective that is sustaining regardless of external circumstances. And the best part is, because unfolding is a process and the full extent of it remains fixedly beyond us, we don't have to worry about any of the particulars! We just get to be ourselve
The Conscious Universe
I learned a little perspective-shifting technique that feels right to share (the origin of this practice escapes my memory so... sorry and thank you!) Imagine one hand is resting on your heart. Do not actually place your hand but use your imagination to feel it. Once you connect with that sensation, gently gaze at something in your environment. Simultaneously feel your heart awareness and perceive that what you are looking at is looking back at you. Though it is inanimate, sense its return gaze. The connection to your heart facilitates your recognition and reception of its consciousness. After some time with this practice - and I find it does take practice - you become increasingly aware that all of the universe is alive. Sitting in this recognition, external validation no longer really makes sense and it is near impossible to feel alone. Because the urge to share is fulfilled by the understanding that, down to the subatomic level, we share everything with everything; we can feel the interpenetrating flow of creative energy within all life.
Always there is more to say and better ways to say it... In closing, for now, I honor your/our solo/shared journey. Many blessings for this Super Moon/Full Moon in Aries!
Hello everyone! I had a beautiful post written about today's Fall Equinox and wouldn't you know it! Mercury in Retrograde taught me a big lesson in non-attachment. The post was overwritten somehow and is not recoverable. In fact, several of my recent life events have tested my ability to release what is beyond my control. Mercury the trickster wants to make extra sure that I am walking my talk at the Cycle Keeper, letting go of expectations and not attaching to outcomes.
From what I remember about what I wrote yesterday, I laid out the dynamic between the first part of a solar cycle - that burst of initial creativity and action - and the second half which begins at the Fall Equinox and takes us on an inward journey. For most of us the stretch and stress of hard work (spring/summer), challenging as it is, feels more comfortable than the intensity of self-inquiry (fall/winter). This shows up when we would rather pull a week of all-night productivity fests and feel accomplished than be with ourselves when we feel useless or discouraged. We may prefer a slew of exhausting social engagements over confronting a deeper loneliness. We can devour a handful of self-help books but might not want to get curious about why we feel we need fixing.
Take a moment on the Fall Equinox today or even tomorrow to appreciate your accomplishments and growth since the spring. Sink into some well earned satisfaction and feel out a few priorities that you wish to sustain and nurture through the coming seasons. Everything else, just let it go with a thank-you and a good-bye. One of the main reasons that stuff gets clingy in our system is that we crave external and tangible resolution. If we do not feel sufficiently validated, acknowledged or seen in our experience it can be difficult to release those threads. Let your awareness be enough and make formal amends with anything you know you no longer need to carry. Recapture loose energy and channel it towards your priorities, recommitting to yourself through winter and beyond!
Have a Happy Fall Equinox, everyone!
Last week's New Moon/Solar Eclipse in Virgo called up the theme of embodiment: the wonderment of being and the idea that existence is is ordered by the hand (or, rather, heart) of love. Kicking off next week with a First Quarter Square, we continue exploring physicality and the mysterious forces that move us as the Sun in Virgo squares the Moon in the sign of Sagittarius, the seeker. The yearning for experiences and truth that typifies this sign is like the inner impulse of the seed to emerge from its hard skin, instinctively compelled to the surface towards light. Cradling our New Moon intentions, we can engage the activating and agitating Sun/Moon square to clarify the source of what moves us in the world and in the moment. Saturn, having also entered Sagittarius as of late, also asks us to refine our inner core from whence action and engagement spring.
With regards to forces that stir and compel our being, materialism really has a hold on us. Beyond the desire for physical security and assurances, psychological materialism finds us avoiding feeling confused, incompetent or incorrect. The spiritual variety wards off intimate, direct realization or experience of the sublime in favor of escape or retreat from the very intense and ambiguous real. I am temporal. Existing in time means I am always unfinished. Embracing my existential condition with an open heart, I can radically loosen the grip of materialism. Each time I sit down to write, I open negotiations with my materialistic need to provide exacting and correct insight, to daringly deliver a satisfying bit of closure for myself and anyone who reads my work. My honest motivations are a blend of desire for self discovery, spiritual promptings and delusions of some big, wowwy finish.
Every twenty-nine and a half days heralds a New Moon: the liminal space between the now retreating and newly beginning cycles, where Luna is dark and receptive as soil. The mutable earth sign Virgo relates to the body, digestion and the processes of integration and synthesis. Mercury (communication, insight), the traditional ruler of Virgo, marks its upcoming retrograde path through Libra (relationships) on Sunday. Embodiment on earth happens in/as/through relating: to others, to our environment, to information, to ourselves and the sacred.
I think of the story of a Swedish duck farmer as poetically portrayed in the PBS series, The Mind of a Chef. His well-loved and carefully-tended flock produces meat of unprecedented quality. In the episode, he also expresses his deepening pain over investing in and nurturing animals he must inevitably slaughter. He admits, somewhat tenderly, that he cannot numb or adjust to the worsening ache of being both care-taker and under-taker to his beloved ducks. The farmer remains open and consciously connected to his work, the animals and, ultimately, his humanity. His devotion and personal integrity express a high potential of Virgo energy, as does the discernment and commitment to quality of the chef who sources duck from this farmer.
Perhaps we mostly believe that human beings inherently understand and practice love. (I think that) I think that this is true. And I also know that to learn and survive socially, we are repeatedly pressured to bury, compromise, and negotiate that loving. We often internalize a hierarchy where closeness (family, nation) and sameness (human, similar physical traits) equate to worthiness of being loved, or at least most loved. We also learn to think of love in terms of only positive or pleasurable experiences. A picture emerges of transacting a scarce resource, where love is only given to well-known individuals with the expectation of a return on investment of equal or greater value.
Consider the phrase "falling in love" and the senses that arise: a physical pull, weight moving through space, gravity. Love requires an atmosphere of presence to breathe. Life is energy and everything is in motion; even the particles of an apparently solid object hum and vibrate. Do you feel where this path is leading? We are the universe embodied with the same patterns found everywhere beyond. We know we are love because we can never fully grasp or explain the intricacy of our being. Why does a flower unfurl in velvety petals, mounting in richness and radiance of color as you near the center of the bloom? And why the softness and amiable scent? After all there are other, more plain and direct ways to attract a bee.
When we see the independent reality of existence we are seeing beauty because of its "just is-ness", the apparent being for being's sake. Below the surface of beauty as a pleasant appearance is a mix of appreciation for the way something is and the wonder about why it is not some other way. The wonderment of being, the absurdity and exquisiteness of embodiment, the suggestion that life is (patterned on) love all somehow connects and reconnects back to these Partial Eclipse/New Moon energies. There is a slippery truth at the intersection of all of it, but I just have to put down my "pen." I will kneel in reverence and surrender to all that infinitely outdares language and understanding.
At the same time I may never stop seeking to get friendly and conversational with it. I want to dance my connection with the underlying creative restless rhythm of it all. In unfamiliar use of time and space, spontaneously moved by the mystery, I intend to welcome the awkward along with responsive and flowing satisfaction. I desire to inhabit and create new rhythms and responses. I wish to love my body and my life as is and as they become.
New Moon time is a magic portal for seeding the future. What do we intend to do about it?
This past Sunday night, a colossal monsoon storm hit my and surrounding cities, knocking out power in large swaths of neighborhoods, uprooting trees and laying them to rest in the streets. Out in space, the amplifying power of Jupiter continues to oppose mystifying, stormy Neptune in the polarity of Virgo/Pisces (daily routines/breaking from the "real world"). For one long night, our virtual realities of living comfortable, amenity-filled lives in the valley desert of Arizona were disrupted. And yet several people I know admitted they felt more charged and alive. In my room full of sultry air and sleeplessness, the quietened drizzle of rain hovered like a thin veil over a very palpable silence. The buzz of electricity and the endless exhale of air conditioning usually engulf me in white noise. I wondered about the subtler layers of sound (and emotion) that we miss as our perceptual filters convert ever more grating input into the backdrop of our modern lives.
Like the roots of the wayside trees, our interdependence was also exposed by the storm. Thousands of households waited through the night for someone to restore their power. Just after the eleventh hour, our home whirred back to electrical life. Many nearby neighbors, traffic lights and transit stations were out well into Monday. Gemini teaches us that everything is interconnected. The energy of the Twins also lends us the power of mind to rationalize endlessly, reinforcing the buffers between ourselves and a truth we are resisting. We can easily maintain the fiction that we are invulnerable, self-reliant and self-made until mother nature reminds us who is ultimately the more powerful.
This charged Last Quarter Square bestows the gifts of sensitive curiosity and open receptivity (Moon in Gemini), and quite possibly some triggering moments to test them out! The mutable signs Gemini, Virgo and Pisces are extremely activated, offering us lessons about adaptability. We may be required to be resourceful and creatively respond to life. We may need to acknowledge where our flexibility has made us a doormat or caused us to conform away from our true heart center. We may need to come to terms with change in its various forms and take the pulse of our resiliency.
Traveling on bike through the storm's aftermath to work, I noticed that the winds disturbed and relocated countless could-be "found objects." I was caught in fantasizing (Neptune in Pisces), as I often do, about artfully re-purposing (Sun/Jupiter in Virgo) interesting bits of debris. When we encounter "weather" in our lives, no doubt it can unearth the unlikeliest of treasures. The cosmos is calling upon our imaginative abilities to intentionally refashion and transmute whatever we encounter. This Last Quarter Square provides fertile ground to nurture our powers of intuition (Neptune in Pisces), deep perception (Moon in Gemini) and devotional resourcefulness (Sun in Virgo) needed to alchemize our immediate reality (Gemini).
Enjoy the last week of this lunation until the New Moon in Virgo (September 13) kicks off the new Libra/Aries cycle!
Heads up: Venus retrograde in Leo stations direct the day after the Last Quarter Square and begins again to move forward, reintegrating the lessons learned through the latter half of Leo into 0 degrees Virgo. Mercury began its setup phase around the time of the Full Moon in Pisces last week, and will retrograde in Libra on September 17th. More on this later!
Welcome, to this week's flowering, Full Moon in Pisces. The mutable water sign is represented by two fish: one swimming up towards the expanse of the universe and the other, into the depths of the ocean. This symbolism evokes an inner tension, a longing we cannot fulfill for something.... we know not what. In The Matrix, Morpheus captures this restless quality of Pisces when he describes Neo's feeling that his reality is off beam. He cannot pinpoint exactly what is wrong, but "it is there, like a splinter in [his] mind," vexing him endlessly.
With Neptune in Pisces (disillusionment, forces beyond ourselves) conjunct this Full Moon, we may be asked to sit with an uncomfortable inner splinter or two. Unlike Neo, we have no Morpheus with his "red pill" to release us into truth. What's more, a full three-ring circus of socially-endorsed escapes and distractions beckons to us, promising that we'll feel more satiated and less alone. If only.
Opposite this Full Moon, the Sun and Jupiter in Virgo (work, service), call to mind the widespread dissatisfaction with deadening jobs and a quickening desire to do more with ourselves, our talents and our lives. We can recognize, at the same time, what a tremendous privilege it is to entertain a vocation with purpose and passion while the majority labors under conditions that crush mind, body and soul. In fact, in those moments when our hearts break wide open in compassionate acknowledgement of suffering, you can be sure that Pisces is present.
The Trans-Personal Realm
The wetiko-driven death march of our unsound institutional powers - which expect the social commons to endlessly absorb the precipitous costs of its global folly - is reflected in Pluto's passage through Capricorn (decay and destruction of large structures and institutions). Many of those who observe and write about this phenomenon take the collective expression of self-destructive inhumanity and point it back to our individual psyches, suggesting that we examine where greed, power-lusting and fear-based control mechanisms exist in ourselves. The idea being, that our smaller, individual darkness feeds the larger, rampant shadow of humanity as a whole.
While I do not entirely disagree with this "as-above-so-below, as-within-so-without" prescription for more individual shadow work, it all sounds pretty palliative to me. This is the realm of the trans-personal planets (Pluto, Neptune), with influences both diffuse and incorporeal. For a society that craves certainty and control as we do, this tends to make us anxious. Our wonted reaction to trans-personal forces is to try and distill them down to a manageable, personal project. We are deeply relieved by the feeling that we are "doing something" about any of it. We react and brace ourselves in preference to standing naked as nature, constantly anguished but bonded to existence by unconditional love. Not a love that appeases and makes us feel better, but a soul-making, world-rocking, cut-to-the-core love, like the "fierce embrace" of life in David Whyte's "Self Portrait".
On this Full Moon, can we approach the trans-personal from beyond an "if-then" construct, and keep the dizzying, heart-rending paradox of our terrible, wonderful world in play? Can we expose our vulnerable bellies to heat of fierce intimacy with life itself, not fully knowing what that sacred relationship might ultimately require of us? To this end, I want to mention the fiery, courage-gifting trine happening between Uranus in Aries (individuality, personal genius) and Mars/Venus in Leo (creative desire and action) during this Pisces Full Moon. Spiritual concepts and noble ideals are essentially meaningless if not expressed through the uniqueness of a human being, tied to their irreproducible set of experiences. You - whatever you truly are - have traveled through space and time to be here now. Each person is like a precious, one-of-a-kind chemical with the potential to mix and react with the chaos of the current world scene and thereby produce unfathomable results! It is my personal belief that engaging with an open heart*, allowing ourselves to be "triggered," sets this reaction in motion.
You, the Sunbeam
Our earth is about seventy-percent ocean with depths averaging over ten-thousand of feet. The rays of the Sun cannot penetrate the surface of water below several hundred feet. This means that the vast majority of our planet is in a state of total darkness. As an analogy to the themes I have been exploring in this post, we are like the individual rays of sunlight. Though we maybe cannot (or even should not) hope to address the entire ocean of darkness, we still cannot but shine our light.
The sunlit surface of the ocean, known as the euphotic zone, accounts for two-thirds of the photosynthetic activity on earth. Organic life critically depends on this relatively tiny sweet spot where water meets light! Forget about "saving the world" and know that, in your small way, the sunbeam of you sustains this perfect, inexplicable balance of everything that is. Venture as deep as you can. Know that the meeting place between light and great depth is life-enhancing and exquisitely fertile. Allow the mystery and FEEL! And have a phenomenal Full Moon in Pisces!
*Countless teachers and healers are working today to bring forth their heart-centered approach to life. One of my particular favorites is Matt Kahn and his Love Revolution work. I recommend exploring the unprecedented teachings that are readily available to us today. It is fantastic hear and be touched by a great message. At the same time, one of the best ways to honor of the extent of labor required to bring forth these messages is to take the advice of another brilliant and prolific teacher I love, Christina Pratt, who continuously calls us to be moved into action.
Last week, a new Moon Cycle began, meaning this Saturday is the First Quarter Square (waxed from new to half-full; see photo). On that day, the Moon will pass in front of Saturn, their bodies creating the focal point of a T-Square, like the tip top of a triangle. Our Sun in late Leo and Jupiter in early Virgo sit across the round table of the zodiac from Neptune in Pisces, and it is as if the line between them forms the base of a pyramid with a Moon/Saturn in Scorpio capstone.
Moon/Saturn Scorpio at the Top of the T-Square
The Moon in astrology relates to memory and is like a giant, metaphorical womb. The Moon as a creative matrix (a creatrix!) is a realm of undifferentiated matter, like the stem cells in the regenerative uterine lining, containing infinite microcosms of possibility. Saturn relates to form and governs our bones. DNA from bones can remain intact for a long, long time, even hundreds of thousands of years under the right conditions. These silent, mineral remains may offer us genetic clues about human origins, but they can never share the story of the individual life which hung upon them. Both the Moon and Saturn deal with ripening, be it human maturation (Saturn) or an ovarian follicle producing an egg each month (Moon). These two come into proximity in Scorpio, a deep water sign that deals with transformation through cycles of death and regeneration. The Moon and Saturn share a special relationship with their respective 28-day and 28-year cycles. We are offered a deep look (Scorpio) at the dynamic relationship between the long (Saturn) and short (Moon) cycles of time. Looking at the themes of this First Quarter Square chart, the concept of "continuity" comes to mind.
We all live inside of a certain continuity, waking up each morning as the same "me," most likely in familiar surroundings and probably with some personal routines to perform or schedule to follow. Our bodies are constantly renewing themselves (a current theory suggests cell turnover takes about 10 years) and we experience many cycles of growth and transformation in our views and perspective over a lifetime - or so it is hoped.
Shifting our focus to the Sun in Leo and Jupiter in Virgo area of this T-Square, continuity becomes re-contextualized as the common human desire and drive for self-perpetuation, be it through passing our genes to actual children or pouring yourself into a "child" of the mind, hands and heart through various creative media (or both!). Jupiter, having journeyed through Leo, has recently entered Virgo where the jovial planet's abundant and expansive nature is productively tamed under the patient, careful vigil of this mutable earth sign. Ultimate continuity in the Jupiter-in-Leo sense might look like erecting some transcendental monument. Virgo reminds us that through small and humble, life-sustaining actions every day, we can seed the continuity and health of humanity into the future. And across the way, from the perspective of pure transcendence, Neptune in Pisces reveals nothing but an enigmatic smile.
As an aside, I was watching a documentary show about an ancient civilization recently and for the first time I really noticed the use of "them" and "they" (rather than "us" and "we"). I understand that to reference a specific group of ancient humans it is natural to talk about what "they" did. At the same time, this "othering" language lacks a certain sense of continuity, belonging with and connection to our predecessors and our common humanity.
So what is your relationship to continuity in the face of certain mortality? What ancient legacies live in your bones? Which memories form the peaks and valleys of your life's geography? How do you nurture a healthy continuity in your own life? Perhaps through ritual, creative work, friendship and familial love, transcendental meditation or communing with trees or ancestor spirits, to name a few practices. Common astrological knowledge has it that First Quarter Squares are triggering and that the Moon feels uncomfortable in Scorpio. I offer these words in the hopes that attuning to the through-running current of a larger cycle (of our being, of our humanity, of our Earth) might balance any self-inconsistencies, restricted flows or extreme reactions that a First Quarter Square in Scorpio might unsurface.
Have a happy weekend everyone, and stay tuned for this month's Full Moon in Pisces!
We're coming up on the annual New Moon in Leo. The fixed fire sign of the lion is ruled by the Sun. The Sun accounts for 99% of the mass in our solar system. Yes. Accounting for the combined mass of Earth and all the other planets, many of which are gas giants, it all makes up just 1%. And because atoms are 99% space, when it comes to Earth's human inhabitants, if you took out all of that space, out of all 7 billion of us or so combined, our matter would roughly fit inside of an orange.
Wow. Our middle-aged sun is also estimated to be 4.5 billion years old with another 5 billion years left. Our individual life span would not even register on that pie graph. All of the drama and perceived significance of our daily lives plays out inside of this grand mystery, on a relative scale so infinitesimal that is laughable, awesome, and freaky.
On this lunation we have the Sun conjunct Venus and the Moon and Mars all in Leo. All of these bodies are in the realm of the personal (as opposed to the outer, slower and more massive trans-personal planets) in the sign of individuation. I bring up the unfathomable scale of all that is and these cosmic perspectives because, with all these personality- and individual drama-centered themes going on, it can be healing to connect with the paradox of significance/insignificance, and feel a deep sense of wonder and curiosity about the very, very strange nature of existence, to touch upon the absurd.
But let's be honest. If you've been following local and world events right now, you probably do not need to consider the mind-boggling circumference of the Sun in order to feel some sense of comparative triviality. Pluto's (destruction, transformation, rebirth) passage through Capricorn (law, authority, institutions) and Neptune in it's own sign of Pisces (dissolution, confusion) are reflected in the current global state of affairs, our rapid arrival upon a steep ecological precipice and countless examples of societal dissolution and disillusionment.
They say the Milky Way consists of between 200 and 400 billion stars and at least 100 billion planets. There are an estimated 100 billion galaxies (and it is possibly, probably infinite). Our star will inevitably die and take this planet out with it. We are just the surface-dwellers of a planet that has experienced five known mass extinctions. Each of us lives within a closed-loop cycle of birth and death.
So what are we all doing here, riding this seemingly endless spiral path on spaceship Earth? This current moon cycle began in the waters of Cancer (sensitivity, intuition). The vessel of the moon, having achieved full flowering and illumination in Aquarius (idealism, humanitarian vision), incrementally poured out all her light over two weeks time and now she will take an empty pause in Leo (self-awareness, heart-centered expression).
This Leo/Aquarius spectrum very much relates to how we as a part (Leo) relate to the whole (Aquarius). I am not suggesting we need to "figure out" the meaning of our lives as they relate the larger picture. I hope the considerations I have drawn out in this post actually help us surrender the impulse to make sense of everything. Rather, this cycle's inaugural Cancerian energies ask us to take a dive beyond the rational mind into deeper sensing and feeling. Cancer has ties to the subconscious and irrational, and a knowing that cannot be explained. In the quiet of your mind, using your extraordinary powers of perception, zoom in or out - it doesn't matter which - as far as you possibly can. Feel the 37 trillion cells of your body, each with its own nuclear spark, it's specialized consciousness. How many whirring atoms is that? Sense the earth as a minute speck among 100 octillian - innumerable! - stars in the universe. Slip into that profound sense of being in love with life, your life and humanity, such as it all is. Because really, who knows what this is all about?
This new moon in Leo also kicks off the next cycle, which expresses through the energies of the Virgo/Pisces axis, very much associated with healing and sacred enchantment. Marinate in what inspires you and if motivations arise, do not worry about how you will go about expressing, accomplishing or completing them. Plant seeds and give them time to germinate, perhaps making smaller, symbolic gestures if it feels right. As the sun moves into practical, crafty Virgo, you will likely find yourself more resourced for real taking steps, or simply getting in touch with your processes and rituals. Another opportunity to love the uniqueness that is you (Leo)!
And the mystery of life just continues to unfold. I'll leave you with sweet words from the inspiring, exceptional Fiona Apple who reminds us that our only purpose here is to make our unique splash, become one distinct wave and "sink back into the ocean."
Happy new moon, everyone!
My little, well-loved slice of cyber space is like a playground, a pillow for my head to dream upon, a public confessional for the sweetest secrets of my humanity. Thank you for visiting, whoever you are!