Poetic Meditations for the Astrological Journey: Adult Coloring Book coming soon!

I am so excited for this book coming out real soon! I’ve added beautiful images by my incredibly talented friend and artist, Rigel Richardson, that you can color as you learn and reflect on all the signs of the zodiac.

Not to be missed! Stay tuned for its’ release.

Reflections on Neptune and Saturn Retrogrades: I have had enough

Neptune retrograde 25° – 22° Pisces: June 28 – Dec 3, 2022

Saturn Retrograde 25° – 18° Aquarius: June 4 – Oct 23, 2022

Uranus in Taurus: feels like forever

When I was seven, eight or nine, I can’t remember which trip it was, my family and I, with my uncle, aunt, cousin and grandma traveled to two holy places in India, where the Goddess is deeply worshipped. The trips were amazing. I have never felt such abundance. We completed our prayers, felt many memorable scenes and then made the long drive back home.

As it goes with being a young kid, you end up having a little too much fun because you feel like it. On the way back, my cousin, sister and I decided to yell at and scare people out the car window as we drove past them. Not sure exactly what prompted this but the feeling of freedom overtook us as our driver drove through the gorgeous sunlight that day. All the kids were in one van with Nani and the rest of the adults were in the other van.

Despite Nani’s protests, I remember yelling at one newlywed couple stuck at the side of the road trying to fix their scooter to watch out for the snake (saap!) behind them. A few people lost control of their bikes. But we complimented one girl on her beautiful buffaloes in the distance. In the light, their almost black coats looked other-wordly.

Needless to say, we ended up having not one but two flat tires. After the first flat, the parents asked us to stop in a nice manner for fear of universal retribution. The second flat tire is what truly made us stop because that was a difficult one to fix and we kids believed our work was truly done. As everyone lazily lounged back with their fantas waiting for the tire to be fixed, I couldn’t help but take in the breathtaking view of a girl across the street tending to her sea of goats in a large field under a serene afternoon into the sunset. That scene has been in the back of my mind forever.

This memory is so vivid in my being right now. Neptune’s Pisces retrograde must be taking me back to a special spiritual moment as I also view how I might have terrorized others as a seven year old (Aquarius). Recently, I found a deep pain in my lower left side has not gone away even after my procedure a few months ago. It has been brutal. I haven’t been able to sit in a chair. Most of my work is done on the sofa with my leg up, random other places around the house (I assure you I’m working) or the Panera cushion I can tolerate at times.

Something in me a few months ago told me to see an endometriosis specialist, a type of person I possibly saw in a google search and/or mentioned in the comments of an endometriosis support group on Facebook I look to at times for connection and then mentioned later on by a doctor in my doctor’s office in a moment of intense throbbing, twisting pain. Thankfully I had already made the appointment before this moment and I waited five and half months to see a specialist at Magee, who confirmed my suspicions. It is likely I have endometrial growths in deeper areas of my pelvis. I will need a procedure that removes them via excision instead of ablation. We will confirm with a different type of pelvic MRI where my vajayjay will be injected with gel (God help me).

I am relieved but devastated. I am always devastated. Everything comes back to me – the missed opportunities, fun and moments I could have had without this wretched disorder. And the simultaneous weighing against what others don’t have and how lucky I am with ‘all the support I could possibly need.’ It’s hard to feel grateful.

There are many women who don’t have their own bathrooms in this world and/or menstrual products. How many times growing up did I waste so much water sitting in the shower hoping the hot temperature would help soothe my pain? How many times have I gone over not being able to work at a conventional place of work where I could have had some more experience and money only to be treated like a second class citizen because I needed a five minute break? I still question whether I belong there.

How many times have I evaluated when and when not I will have the ability to physically do something, anything, only to have my evaluations proven wrong? And dealing with the endless insensitive comments of others, whether they mean it or not, which they often don’t. At the end of the day, as I sit in my comfortable bed with a cup of tea, the thing that has kept me going is gratitude for that darn old bathroom.

What I would do for the eternal joy of being a seven year old under a brilliant sun riding in that car again free of pain, only God knows. What is surprising to me is how I’m unfortunately thinking about the insensitive and turd-like mannerisms of some white people at this moment. Why is this beautiful memory tarnished with this reality? Why am I writing about it in the same post? I’m having trouble synthesizing what is real from what is unreal and find myself saying over and again in my mind throughout the day: UNREAL.

I just had a woman in her late forties whitesplain and appropriate to me about a creative project. In such a crass way. And I hired her! Forget about professionalism, it seems there is some level of ‘informality’ that can be accessed which I can’t imagine occurring with brown people. And I have dealt with a lot of brown people. And what is it that makes an old white, crusty mediator who has had a career and wants you to be a part of his dying career literally say: “you’re family must be so frustrated with you” as he manipulates you to join his ‘firm’ during covid. I don’t want to be a part of your stupid ‘firm’!

As if the other American bullshit isn’t enough to deal with, I remember years ago, this wretched white guy whose kid I tutored asked me to now tutor his niece. After reading my contract (or so they said it was read), which requires payment upfront, the parent did not bring payment to the first session. I then calmly explain in a sentence why I cannot tutor (and his son forgot to bring payment more than once before) and quietly walk away. I was then barraged with voicemails and emails with him calling me a c*** saying I need psychological help. And the contact (white woman! who owns an educational company!) who referred this turd to me, after he complains to the contact, emails me and says ‘I’m not surprised by his complaints.’ She never met me in person and I hardly spoke with her ever.

I’ve seen my mother deal with many Indian people in the course of her business. It sucks seeing people “bargain” with your mother for twenty dollars when they own half a million to million dollar homes. But hey, it doesn’t suck as bad as a thieving ‘mediator’ and being called the c word. This is hate.

It seems to me that whatever that level of informality is or pattern is, it exists. I feel we need to know within ourselves the type of communication and interaction appropriate for each one of us, asserting it with boundaries (Taurus) and endings while watching for the red flags. We must know our limits (Saturn).

You know, some of us don’t walk around calculating how we’re going to behave and what we’re going to say in this world. I don’t think as I interact with the world everyday ‘okay I’m interacting as a woman so this is what I will or will not say.’ I just think and behave naturally. When I’m triggered, a mix of responses come up. Should we constantly be triggered and our minds and bodies under constant duress and stress where we have to be mindful of how we respond to this? The world’s behavior, as one psychology professor put it, ‘has become so very weird.’

Unreal..

  • The update (Aug 2022) is I have DIE (deep infiltrating endometriosis) which happens often with those with stage IV endo and adenomyosis, all of which has never been addressed since I was a teenager. I’m so glad to have confirmed that I own death. And other great stuff like hydrosalpinx aka pixy stix. I wish the system worked in a way so I could have had the excision laparascopy option years ago, which is fortunately minimally invasive.

Learn the zodiac signs with my new book, Poetic Meditations for the Evolutionary Journey

My new book, Poetic Meditations for the Evolutionary Journey, is now available on Amazon 🌟 It’s full of meditations and poetry that express the energy of each zodiac sign. A great learning or meditative tool. Kindle Ebook version also available.

“This book provides meditations and poetry to help you understand the meaning of all twelve signs of the zodiac beginning from Aries to Pisces. Evolutionary Astrology believes that each sign represents a certain aspect of the human life and psyche on the earth plane. The sign is a sub-journey of the entire human journey through the whole of consciousness represented by the twelve signs.”

Reflections on Venus Retrograde in Capricorn:

Venus Retrograde: 25° – 11° Capricorn, Dec 19 – Jan 29 2022

Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, is a yin, earth sign. At first, it appears yang to a lot of people but it’s actually yin, which makes you think that the sign has been distorted or appropriated to some extent. It has lost some of its dark, slow, earthy, downward-seeking nature and instead, has become so associated with what is harsh, hard, structural and upward-seeking, all yang aspects.

Ruler of the 10th house of career, status, authority and rules, Capricorn has taken on some contexts and meanings attributed to it through patriarchal distortion in my humble opinion. Saturn represents your time and space reality, your orientation and understanding of your three-dimensional world based on your house and sign location in your natal chart. And depending on how Saturn currently transits and what planet(s) transit Capricorn, we can understand how our time and space orientation will personally and collectively be affected.

There are so many things a Venus in Capricorn transit reminds me of, especially one that is retrograde within Capricorn, i.e. systems, structures and limits. One can harshly feel the head-butting between the two. How can Venus, as ruler of Libra, representing harmony, balance and justice, possibly achieve its’ aims here?

I recently had my ovary and fallopian tube taken out. My gynecologist removed them and the endometrial growths in my pelvic area. He said it was really bad and had the medical students watching my procedure reiterate the same while I was still in a daze of anesthesia in the hospital. As I left and sat in the car, I could see my father’s eyes were slightly watery and worried. And relieved. In the big scheme of things, losing an ovary and tube is not a big deal. Countless others have lost worse. I can still function (to a certain point) but there’s grief (Capricorn) around it.

I love my doctor. He’s semi-retired and white and I actually wouldn’t trade him for a woman. He is kind, sensitive and gives a big hug. I am lucky in this respect.

I remember one summer in India as a teenager, I was staying with my aunt, Nani and same-aged cousin who I had stayed with before many times but this time my mother had gone to the south on a business trip. She left us for two weeks and I was so happy. Afternoons spent inside the house apart from the outside heat playing Contra and Tetris for hours on end obsessively trying to get to the next level and having all sorts of fun with my cousin and sister was the best time of my life.

Something was nagging at me that summer. I don’t know whether it was the normal angst of a 13 year old but I was feeling limited. I felt frustrated and unfortunately decided to test those limits one careless afternoon against my better judgment. This is an infamous story in the family.

One afternoon, I went to the backyard and walked up to my cousin’s bike, which always lay against the wall at an angle. I had learned from him how to step on the seat and climb up the wall and walk on it like a trapeze but this time I grabbed the bike, wheeled it through the house quickly, and started biking my way onto the street and around the sector. I cycled fast so no one I knew would catch me. This was the first time I was by myself without anyone I knew by my side outside of the house in India (at least on this bike).

It was exhilarating. There was no mom to tell you what to do or what the rules were, no uncles to tell you how far you couldn’t go, no plans or trips or familiar eyes looking at you for whatever reason. It was just me, the bike and the road. I told myself as I started riding that I was going to ride all over the city, through so many sectors, and then boast about it later on.

Although everything looked familiar, I had trouble getting out of the sector we lived in due to nervousness being on the main road, like the really main road, and lack of know-how. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to go around the entire city in just a couple hours. That’s how long I was gone without telling anyone. As I looked at the familiar signs, buildings and people going about their daily business, I felt one with it all but was also terribly focused on controlling the bike. I didn’t want to fall or hit anything. Sadly one of these things occurred.

I ran into a little boy, something I feel guilty about to this day. I was stupidly staring at a temple to the right, my eyes away from the road, and hit his leg. I insisted that I take him to the doctor but he insisted that he was not hurt.

I also had a nineteen year old celebrity look alike who lived down the street and who supposedly was an aspiring actor stalk me. In India, guys do really weird things like stare at you with their friends behind bushes while you’re walking down the street. Or send recorded music on tapes to you through their middle man. It’s frightening and hilarious at the same time. So on this excursion, this guy found me me cycling on the road despite my inner hope that I would not come across him.

On a residential street I was not often on, I felt headbutted as he rode up unexpectedly asking me what my name was. I was scared to give my real name so I came up with ‘Seema,’ a common name. Any coincidence that Carrie’s new Indian friend on ‘And Just Like That’ right now is also Seema? Yes actually that is probably a coincidence.

Needless to say, my family was not happy with me. My cousin was infuriated I took his bike and worried him and received angry talks from my aunt and mother on the phone. My grandmother was not happy but she was generous. Why did I do that?! A teenager on the loose and in a country she doesn’t know that well. Smh.

Was it only the year before that I had failed a sex-ed test because I would do my math homework during class and not listen to the lectures? I didn’t care to know the technical definitions involving the nether regions. I just knew that I had to finish the math homework before it was due. Thankfully I got to retake the test. Why is that we are only allowed to retake sex-ed tests? And of course there was dissatisfaction learning about Alexander the Great and my increasing fear of cactus plants. I couldn’t help but be aware on some level that I was a female, even if just thirteen. My Venusian brain wanted to test the limits that summer, some authority, some rule, as a human and a female. She didn’t think twice about it, her hormones led her on.

And disturbing thoughts come up in the present day, 27 years later. Equality takes on a different nature. Maybe a testicle should be taken out in exchange for an ovary? And crushed in a lemon juicer so the pain felt is equal. Maybe this is what systemic equality should look like. I would like to know how many testicles are currently being taken out worldwide cause I assure you a hell of a lot more ovaries are taken out. Let us somehow harmonize this necessity.

I shed a lot of tears these last couple months but probably not as much as a true Cancerian heart would. The sheer anger and depression, felt so physically, is enough to have wanted me to kill something. My saving grace in life is a psyche oriented around art I guess otherwise I’d be addicted to painkillers. I have no judgment against addicts because they are me and they are my mother, who had her hysterectomy years ago. My fond memory around that is sitting in the hospital cafeteria and basically having a Thanksgiving dinner. Boy was that delicious.

Related post: The Little Ovary That Could

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