Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Second Bloom


Every spring my mother and I would plan each other's gardens. A Joseph's Coat rosebush - petals altering from pink to orange to yellow - in her front yard. An indigo Butterfly Bush for the hedge next to my driveway. Tulips and Lillies for the borders and the glorious annuals to spill over terracotta pots.

Her absence this year made me lazy. Or perhaps I didn't have any nourishment left for my garden. I didn't buy any new flowering shrubs, didn't split the Tiger Lilly bulbs, didn't prune the Lilacs. I only potted half a dozen Cannas from bulb, hoping they would flame into bloom in the small corners of my garden. Somehow they did, despite my shoddy fertilizing and negligent watering. Were she here they would have feasted on egg shells and decaying banana peels. They and the other critters she tolerated in her yard.

Her death reminds me that healing comes in waves. 7 months later I still have a lot of grief in me. But nature is kinder if you pay attention to her symbolic story. Magic trumps sorrow. Take my century old Cherry Tree, the one Duke lounges atop its crusty branches like a Cheetah at high noon. The rains have stripped away all her leaves. But this week as we enjoy an early Indian summer the tree burst into bloom.

This story I understand.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Eclipse Giveth and Mercury Taketh Away

August was the most disruptive month. After a juicy June and a chock-ful-a-fun July, August cowered into silent oblivion like an old photograph faded from too much handling. The June eclipses, 3 in one month to be precise, heralded sweet unexpected beginnings. To find someone who not only matches you but reflects back the things you love most about yourself is truly the most precious of gifts. July transported the momentum on a wave of salty fun - the ocean is not enough!

Then August hit and dammit if the month didn't move slower than the Garden State Parkway on a Friday night. A fact I'm blaming entirely on the August 2nd Mercury Retrograde. This one in Virgo the planet of service and hard work. The power of this bad boy turned working hard into hardly working.

Some indications of Mercury Retrograde: snarl-ups in technology - both my cell phones died mysteriously. Computer crashes (both of my laptops suffered the blue screen of death kiss). Loss of Data: Lost a key document moments before having to present it to senior execs. Physical snafus: a game changing case of tennis elbow bringing my bi-weekly tennis fests to a halt. Let me tell you for a girl with 4 planets in Sagittarius (one being Mars!) the loss of a physical outlet is devastating. So much aggressive energy and no way to channel it. More retrograde shenanigans; Dropped phone calls. Lost texts. Bumpy relationships: baffling and sad endings.

Things didn't improve when Mercury stationed direct on August 26. The face of my fancy Swiss timepiece shattered precisely at 6:00 pm when Mercury went direct. Time slowed down even further? Even worse, time stood still. Then Irene shimmied up the East Coast, dumped 18 inches of water in my basement, took out my hot water heater, washing machine and 500 square feet of hardwood flooring. Oh, and my karaoke machine. Really?

While the water dries at the slow coaxing of 8 fans and a dehumidifier, the storm leaves vestiges of drama. My dog ventures outdoors gingerly. The near fatal encounter with a plunging tree branch has taught him a fear he's never known. Gangs of indoor mosquitoes roam my basement seeking bare limbs to lustily suck. Mold slithers beneath my floorboards and creeps up the perfect cinnamon walls. I can feel it. My throat is coated and sore from too many late nights wading through still basement waters bestowing upon me the vocal undulations of a phone sex operator. Imagine Brenda Vacarro talking to Marge Simpson. I make crank calls just for the fun of it.

But the retrograde always accomplishes its work. What old patterns can I release? What old wounds am I ready to heal? We go deep, fearlessly deep for a 4 Sag girl is always a warrior. Illumination isn't always pretty or easy. Loss and regret abound.

I'll say this - next retrograde I'm hiding in a cave in the mountains. Oh and buying a generator.