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I am drifting in exhaustion of such a level that if the Universe asked to wipe the floor with me I think i would concur provided I could simply lie there.

It's a mix of the ongoing Sleep Wars and the ascending Seasonal Affective Disorder, and various Real Life Dramaz that leaves me feeling so utterly grumbly and spent. I am an affectionate drunk but I'm a horrifyingly whiny tired.

"And you stop wanting to make love
Because there is no love left in you
Only a desire to be done.
But you are not done.
Your bags are packed and you are travelling."

These are some of my favourite lines of poetry in the world and they describe precisely this - the point which lies beyond exhaustion - the knife edge between endurance and regret. When all love and joy is spent and the only thing you want is to be erased, packed up. Put into a cryosleep or unexisted for a while. But there is no stopping. No big reboot. Only another breath and another step forward. And then another and another.

I'm struggling to write. My journal is all half-written, half-coherent private entries. My words are deserters. They are faint of heart. They are in hibernation.

But for the month of November - as I attempt to drag myself into another NaBloPoMo - I have placed a moratorium on self-judgement and adherence to standards of clarity and narrative flow, which I'm sure we all look forward to. So I invite you to engage with me in an elaborate suspension of disbelief while I upload photos and do-over various bits of half-finished October posts, and then put them up here pretending they are still relevant and topical and you promise not to call my bluff too loudly.


Nov. 5th, 2010 06:11 am (UTC)
OOOh, thank you for the tip. I had been forgetting to look at the astrology.

Progressed Sun is in the 12th, with progressed moon about to exit out of the 4th and leave a conjunction with natal Neptune.
On the other hand, transiting saturn has been dancing between natal mars and Pluto which has always meant for me that "Die-Hard" vibe.

I've realised that my Sun has been in the 12th house through most of my professional training, which coincided with my own descent into madness and therapy and spirituality just as it was reaching exact conjunction with natal North Node. I wonder if the way I do therapy will change when progressed sun crosses the ascendant, but for now when I'm in my groove it feels like a place apart from the world, a sacred space. From the moment when i am in that room, focusing on someone's story and life, it's like I have entered a separate world - and because the stories are often about quite profound trauma and abuse, the world it feels like we inhabit is the oceanfloor.

In a separate note I don't think I ever told you how much I enjoyed reading your book, but I really loved it. It was written in such an elegant and accessible way and it was on my list of things to review over at the astrology blog, right underneath "Remember to post in there".
Nov. 9th, 2010 06:29 am (UTC)
Water houses are definitely for hibernating and losing words :P
Thank you so much for saying that about my book! Didn't realize you'd read it; that's nice to hear :)


deep sky, firefly

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