Life as Improv

“When love awakens in your life, in the night of your heart, it is like the dawn breaking within you. Where before there was anonymity, now there is intimacy; where before there was fear, now there is courage; where before in your life there was awkwardness, now there is a rhythm of grace and gracefulness; where before you used to be jagged, now you are elegant and in rhythm with your self. When love awakens in your life, it is like a rebirth, a new beginning.”
― John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

Love sleeps and love awakens, or love is there all the time while we sleep and awaken.  All love is the same love but sometimes love is in the form of a cat, a person, a place; love makes us grow beyond the perimeters of our skin cells into the extension of all seen and unseen, dense or light,  out beyond all ideas of this and that, as strong at its farthest edges as it is in the core.  Does it have any edges?

I am no expert on Astrology – but I like the larger scale clockiness of it.  I like the zooming out to measure time and seasons from the far out dials of the planets.  To the modern scientific mind, the whole thing is lunacy – superstition, poppycock.  But there is something in the rhythm and patterns that has always resonated at a deeper level within this girl, even when she belonged to the religion of her childhood that called this ancient pattern recognition a pseudo-science, and an evil one at that, yet I could not stop the patterns from clicking in my deeper awareness.  I could see the overlay of overt and subtle traits within everyone I knew, everyone I met.  The suns and moons of people I knew formed a pattern that I could recognize before I even studied a thing.  And there is a recurrent synch for me – probably because I put attention there, of overlapping birthdays in my life.    I could bore you with the details, but I won’t.  Just a few days ago, I discovered another of these overlaps – all they do is point for me – tell me to pay attention.

My interest in this area was my hidden vice for years as I saw it, but when Richard Tarnas was on the very “respectable” (wink wink) NPR show, Diane Rehm, I perked up.  The author of the most widely used Intro to Western Philosophy book used in colleges was on NPR talking about Astrology.  I bought his book, Cosmos and Psyche and came out of the closet.  The regular world did not catch on to this turning of the tides, so I felt a bit chagrined with my outing at times.

I inhabit another world entirely now, a world parallel yet invisible to mainstream concerns.   I am not one to share my interest or knowledge randomly in the world.  It is enough that something speaks to me.

This winding road is all just to mention – Venus went direct last week or gosh, more than that now.  From the later part of December to the end of January was a wonderful month plus for examining love, luxury, pleasure, as Venus appeared to go backwards in the sky.  A time for laying low and exploring what gives pleasure.

For a good while now, I’ve been asking, “What brings me joy down to my toes and up to my crown?”   Do I know the answer to this question?   I am in recovery from a swirling, vacant selflessness disorder.     In answering this question, I found myself creating a symbolic alter to recognize these discoveries and to relish and welcome what I would like to encounter more of in my life.  What fun I have had!

This post will out me.  I guess I’m okay with that.

I’m having a sort of fun that takes me back to preschool – I pull up a chair to the play dough station; I get my hands dirty; I lose hours in creating without a thought of the end result.  Not art, but play.

I use my hands and scissors and rubber cement glue and and old box from the earth fare store to dream up my life anew.

Here is my alter to Venus, full of symbolic notations to my self along the way to honor the things that please me to no end.  There are rocks and feathers, symbols and mysteries, love notes and chopsticks, a peace sign and a world globe, rice and a battery, a surging heart and a sunrise, poetry and seeds, mandalas and  textured bark, a glimmering eye for humor, poetry, a screwdriver and a hammer, notes to remind me of who I am, and some silver coins.

The pretend worlds we created on the playground as children are closer to the true flow and power source of humans than the mature, mundane, mechanical march deemed adult and respectable.   If we dream it, it can come 🙂  I’m not dreaming of dead baseball players, though.  I am dreaming my own colorful version of life, moment by moment, while my now is perfect just the way it is.  I’m just left of the swings, watching the vortex above the spinning merry-go-round,  if you want to join me.

Tags: Creativity, gratitude, Living in the Moment, Self Love