Well, this transit I've been reading is apparently going to be over with by mid-September, and it is the last transit of these last couple years that has been dirty and difficult.
Now, with all this difficulty of course is opportunity to purify, to earth down, to empty out, to burn up. And have I done enough? Have I done anything right? And who can judge?
None of these answers are clear.
My chattering mind has been demoniacally loud and overwhelming. Sometimes, when it turns my inner world to such vast darkness that I find myself contemplating the merits of various forms of suicide, I search for that small voice telling me that I am not my mind. I am more than it. It does not hold the whole truth. It's perspective is small and limited and driven by fear. It over-emphasizes the importance of itself and of my self.
Ok. I try not to take it too seriously. I let myself cry. I accept that I am weaker than I'd like, than I imagine myself to be.
I come back to a theme that I do not seem to be intelligent enough to outdo. And without obvious resources for professional help, I rely on my own ability.
Basically the theme is failure.

With my limited perspective, but with all the care I could take, I chose a field of study, a group of friends, a mate, a place to live and a dream.
And with my again limited perspective, it looks as though every of of those choices has only led to suffering and loss.
This causes pain of course, but also brings me a sense that I have wasted my energy, considerable amounts of it, on things that have left me completely vulnerable and virtually valueless. I guess the obvious conclusion is that I must begin again. From scratch. And this brings me to question if it is possible to let go of this sense of failure and loss and all the other things like betrayal and deprivation and disillusionment, cynicism, anger and on and on.....is is really possible to be clean of that and start again? Like, I want to think of some one who has been through something I'd be convinced is similarly devastating and has come out without nagging baggage.
And I want to find out how they did it.

Once I believed I had precious gifts to give the world. And I thought I would find a way to give them. Looking around, it seems like most of us live and die without ever realizing that, given the serious obstacles most of us must face.
I don't just want a new way or a new path, I want a new perspective. One that will replace what was an innocent child-like belief that everything will be alright if I just follow my heart with a more practical understanding that will maybe engage the intelligence I do possess to actually move me to fulfill some potential.

love and kisses to my self, the only one I have left to nurture

Recognition of the pain body

An old man from Yorkshire today shared his travelling stories.
He told me how his wife and he followed the story of Custer's life across the country, my country that is.
He would go quiet and then brighten up with another memory of the "Red Indians" long black hair and then how Custer's wife outlived him by many years but never remarried or had children and was buried next to him in 1935.
He quietly slipped in, in very few words, how his wife was killed in Australia in a car accident.
He told me his world was over then and he quit working. 7 years ago.
But there he was, working again.

And do you know? I thought of you. I thought about how I used to ask would you rather we separated or that I die. And I remember you always answering you'd rather I was dead than to know I was alive but not yours. That answer so perplexed me that I asked again and again.
But we were just kids then. What did we know about death and separation?

But more, I thought about my answer to that question. That of course I would always have you alive. And to explain, I told you that hope was eternal. And as long as you were alive, there was a chance to see you, to know you and that that was much preferable to the ultimate separation of death.
And then I thought of you, wherever you are, breathing air near someone else's lungs.

This may well cut me for years, I may bleed forever.
If this is the truth, then I will just have to become strong enough to carry such a wound and still run as far and fast as I must.

What else is true?

We all run with wounds.
The hairstylist's mother might be dying. The woman in down dog next to me may have just lost a spouse. My co-worker could face insurmountable odds to love.
The man on the train gets ostracised by everyone who sees him every day.
My mother may be watching her sister die.

Not only does this enliven compassion, it can spark a sense of oneness with all the creatures, even humans, that I encounter.
We try to stop the bleeding for some, we also inflict cuts.

I just hadn't experienced the sort of suffering necessary to understand the reason why anyone would strive to end the cycle of rebirth.
I have finally joined the rest of humanity. Unwillingly.
It could be time to tattoo the full moon onto my neck. I have given birth to myself as a grown woman.
No wonder I put it off so long. Fuck.