Reconnecting (Blog #794)

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It’s late, two in the morning, and I’m tired. Really, I’m in no shape to think. (Whatever you do, don’t let me vote.) Still, I must. Think, that is. Or at least try. (Geez, this is going so well.) I just finished listening to a lecture about synchronicity. Then, when I tried to “synch” my photos for tonight’s blog, they wouldn’t. This is called ironic. Anyway, it’s amazing how frustrated I can get when I’m tried (or hungry) and things aren’t working like I want them to. I can really pitch an internal fit. I can really tense up.

I’m telling myself I’m going to keep this short. This weekend I’ve did something I never do–relaxed. That is, I chilled out, visited people I care about, listened to music, watched television, drank a gin and tonic. Relaxed. I didn’t even read a book. Not one page. Consequently, due to all my inactivity, I don’t have a lot to talk about.

One thing I did do earlier tonight was look at stars. This is the first time I’ve really studied the heavens since winter. And whereas it was beautiful and fun, I’d forgotten a lot. I mean, the stars change from season to season, not to mention throughout the night. And since it’s been nearly a full year since I looked up at a spring sky, it’s going to take me a while to get reacquainted with its constellations and “major players.” But really, it’s been months since I’ve seen Jupiter. And yet there it was tonight not exactly but basically where I left it last year–near Scorpius.

Okay, my brain is failing, so I’m going to find a way to wrap this up. Lately I’ve been thinking about this relaxing thing, about how I’d really like my physical body and nervous system to relax, since I always feel slightly on edge, tense. For years I’ve gritted down to get stuff done and, in the process, ignored a lot of my body’s cries for a break. Stop pushing so hard. More and more I know we can’t go on like this. I’ve blogged a hundred times (or more) this late at night, and I just can’t keep it up. At least not tonight. I don’t know, I used to be worried that other people could relax and find peace and balance and that I couldn’t. But now I believe these things in all of us, waiting for us to come back to them. Like a planet or bright star int he sky, just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there. It’s just a matter of reconnecting with them, of finding yourself again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And whereas it's just a single step, it's a really important one.

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Directly Under Arcturus (Blog #466)

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After writing yesterday’s blog, I drove to Dallas and stayed the night with a friend. This afternoon I finished writing a travel-writing story (or at least completed the first draft) at a local Starbucks, then hit the road for Houston, which is where I am now. I love driving, especially in my car (Tom Collins), but the road has completely worn me out. It’s just after midnight now, and my body is absolutely done.

I’m staying here in Houston with some swing dancing friends, with whom I’m discussing swing dancing business. I arrived several hours ago, and although we didn’t intend to “dive in” until tomorrow, we’ve been chatting and working all night. It’s been good–I loved the part where we went for tacos–but now my brain has joined my body. It’s absolutely done too.

For most of the drive this afternoon I was covered in my emotions. Sometimes this happens when life catches up to me. It’s like most the time I have a grip, and then all of a sudden I don’t. I get overwhelmed. I think, I’m almost forty–I’m single–I don’t know where my life is going.

Last night in Dallas I stepped outside my friend’s apartment to look at the stars. It was hard to see them in the bright city, and there were a lot of clouds, but I found a few of the major players–The Big Dipper, The North Star, The Northern Cross. Oh, and Jupiter–you can’t miss Jupiter lately. (It’s the first bright “star” you’ll see in the evening if you’re facing south.) I did the same thing tonight when I got to Houston. Again facing south, first I found Jupiter, then Scorpius, then Saturn.

There’s something comforting about this for me, the idea that I can drive five or ten hours from Van Buren–go almost anywhere, really–and still feel at home. The sky really is beginning to feel this way to me–familiar. It’s like how you can wake up in the middle of the night and navigate your way to the restroom with your eyes closed because you live there. I don’t know anything about Houston. I’d be lost without my GPS. But I can look at the sky and know right where I am–directly under Arcturus–because I live here.

In the universe, that is.

Anyway, when I was driving earlier and my emotions showed up uninvited, all I could think about was the stars. I was in five lanes of traffic, my mind running every bit as fast as any car on the road, and the constellations were the only thing that sounded comforting. I wanted to see Cassiopeia so badly. I longed for the quiet and the peace that she brings me. What is that? I guess she reminds me that there’s no hurry in the heavens, that she’s seen it all and, “Baby, you’re doing so much better than you realize.”

One minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down.

Alas, I obviously couldn’t find Cassiopeia this afternoon. The sky was too bright, too blue, too filled with fluffy white clouds. (Ick, barf, I prefer the dark.) My friend Bonnie said, “Give the sun a chance. It’s a star too.” Now I’m thinking that just as there’s day and night literally, there’s also day and night emotionally. Like the sun, one minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down. Our perspectives change constantly. There’s nothing wrong with this. The constellations get turned around once a day, so why can’t you and I? Under heaven, there’s room enough for everything–the sun, the moon and stars, and all our emotions. Yes, the universe–our home–is large enough to hold every bit of us.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Boundaries are about starting small, enjoying initial successes, and practicing until you get your relationships like you want them. 

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Jupiter and Me (Blog #458)

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Thoughts–

1. Sleep

Today I slept in, took a nap this afternoon. My body is tired and wants to rest. I judge it, judge me, think it’s lazy. But I’m learning to listen. I have to. The body always wins.

2. I got 99 problems, and a book is one

There’s a song that says, “I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain’t one.” This is true for my life. However, while surveying my room today, I noticed another problem. I’ve started the book collecting thing again. This after my big estate sale in which I sold hundreds I never read. Now I have a dozen lying around my room, some partially read, some–like me–waiting to be noticed. This afternoon I started to get overwhelmed, like I HAVE to read them, check them off THE LIST. But then I thought, Marcus, you’re just creating problems for yourself. There’s not a problem in this room, except the ones you’re imagining.

3. Some planets move slower than others

This afternoon I read more about the stars and planets. The sky is starting–starting–to make sense. I’m currently fascinated with the fact that Mercury laps the sun every 88 days (earth takes 365), but Jupiter takes nearly 12 years, spending almost a full year in each constellation of the zodiac. There’s Mercury, running himself ragged. (Run, Mercury, run.) Ole Jupiter isn’t in a hurry.

Honestly, I’m so much like Mercury–I can’t read fast enough, can’t get to wherever I’m going fast enough. Today I’ve been faced with my emotions–frustration, sadness, not having answers–and I can’t get over them fast enough. But what if I settled in, moved like Jupiter, accepted that I’ll get “there” soon enough, that–shit–there’s nowhere really to go?

I’d probably feel better.

4. Friends help a lot

Now I’m with my friends Bonnie and Todd, on their porch. We’re talking about emotions, relationships, even the stars and planets. At least for me, speaking my worries and concerns out loud makes them more bearable, seem smaller. I told Bonnie about my book concerns, then five minutes later she gave me another book, a gift she picked up for me in Nashville. We both laughed, I felt better, got excited about the book. I thought, I got 99 problems, but a book ain’t one.

5. Inspiration

In addition to the book, Bonnie gave me a print she found in an antique store. It’s a simple drawing of a typewriter and a cup of coffee. “The tools of your trade,” Bonnie said. “It’s perfect,” I replied, noticing that the paper was stained in coffee. Like me, or at least my teeth. I plan to add it to my alter, for inspiration. Looking at the drawing now, I see that it’s unsigned. To me, this is beautiful, that a total stranger would create something–a muse for someone like me–and not ask for recognition in return. Like a slow-moving planet that would never think to call out, “Look at me.”

6. At least someone loves me

All things are moving as they should.

Earlier on the porch I got bit by several mosquitoes. Those bastards love me. So that’s something, someone does. Now the air has changed, the mosquitoes have moved on, my histamine reaction is calming down. I’m calming down. This is my life lately–getting upset and calming down, reminding myself that all things including Jupiter and me are moving as they should, remembering that people notice me, love me.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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I believe that God is moving small universes to communicate with me and with all of us, answering prayers and sending signs in unplanned moments, the touch of a friend's hand, and the very air we breathe.

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Chasing Cassiopeia (Blog #449)

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Having the day free, I spent this afternoon reading, first in a book called Healing and the Mind by Bill Moyers, then in a book called The Power of Your Subconscious Mind by Joesph Murphy. By the time I’d read fifty pages in each book, my brain was bleeding, so I took a nap. When I woke up, convinced I needed to make today “a reading day,” I turned my attention to my beginner’s astronomy book. However, my mind couldn’t handle any more information. It was full. Plus, being cooped up in the house all day, I was growing restless, irritable.

About sunset I told my parents, “I’m going for a walk.”

Manned with my phone and an astronomy app, I determined to use my walk as an opportunity to identify stars and planets. For the last week I’ve been stargazing after midnight, so I thought being out around nine would not only let me see a few different stars, but would also let me see which stars “come out” first. (Some of us take longer than others.) Y’all, I can’t tell you what a great time I had. I learned in the book today that all the planets (and our sun and moon) travel (basically) along what’s called the elliptic, a narrow band in the sky that’s somewhat like a racetrack for the galaxy’s major players. The first ones to show up on the track as the sun sets? The two brightest planets–Venus (in the west) and Jupiter (currently close to the moon in the south).

For two hours I walked around Van Buren, listening to podcasts and periodically checking my phone against the night sky. Starting out I found Castor and Pollux, the two brightest stars in the constellation Gemini (in the west). Tonight was my first time to deliberately and consciously see them. As they dipped below the horizon, I turned my attention to what have this week become easy constellations for me to spot–The Big Dipper, The North Star and The Little Dipper, The Northern Cross, The Summer Triangle (which isn’t technically a constellation but rather three bright stars in three separate constellations), and Scorpius. Then I found Saturn in the southeast (in Capricorn), trailing behind Jupiter (in Scorpio) along the ecliptic.

I realize this jargon may not make sense. A week ago I would have been totally confused by this information and am just beginning to sort it all out. Today I learned that the ecliptic travels through twelve constellations (the zodiac). Or at least it used to. Things have shifted a bit. But still, astronomers and astrologers make reference to these twelve constellations all the time. Zodiac means “circle of little animals,” fitting since the majority of the twelve constellations or zodiac signs are animals. If you can find the ecliptic, “the signs” will appear along it in the order (or reverse order) they appear during the calendar year (starting around the Spring Equinox)–Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo (where Venus is currently), Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces. For those interested in the zodiac (and–uh–horoscopes), your “sun sign” is the constellation along the ecliptic that the sun was “in” at the time you were born.

Anyway, the stars were all I could think about tonight. For the last week I’ve been looking for Cassiopeia, the famous w-shaped constellation in the northern sky. I’d read that if you know how to find The North Star using The Big Dipper (and the last two stars in the ladle), you can follow that arc to Cassiopeia, the mythological queen who was banished to the night sky by Poseidon for her vanity. However, until tonight I couldn’t find her–I’ve been looking from my driveway, and I guess she’s been behind the neighbors’ houses. But as I got close to home about ten-thirty this evening, I saw her peeking out between some trees. Y’all, I got so excited.

And then I got pissed because all the streetlights and car lights kept making her hard to see.

Finally, I came up with a plan. Back inside the house, I asked Dad if he wanted to drive out-of-town to look for stars, to chase Cassiopeia. Five minutes later, we were piled into Tom Collins (my car), on the hunt. We went to three different places, each about ten minutes from the house, each with different vantage points. And whereas we could still see the city lights, being farther away from them made spotting the stars MUCH easier. At the first location, Cassiopeia was still behind some trees, but the sky was dark enough for me to find Draco the Dragon, something I haven’t been able to do from my driveway. Then at the second location, there she was in all her glory–Cassiopeia, the Queen.

Speaking as a queen myself, she looked fabulous.

Finally, at the third location, Dad and I found Mars, which had just shown up in the southeast along the ecliptic. (It’s reddish). I was thrilled. I kept driving the car a little farther down the road, turning off the lights, getting out, checking the sky. Yep, they’re still there. Back in our driveway about midnight, I looked again. This time, even with the city lights, I was able to find Cassiopeia, Draco, Mars–all my new friends. I suppose they were there all along, I just didn’t know how to find them. I don’t know why this delights me so much, star hunting. There’s something about seeing what the ancients saw, something about finding my place in the heavens. Plus I think, What other wonders–friends–are right in front of me, just waiting for me to finally notice?

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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None of us is ever really lost. At least we're never really alone. For always there is someone to help point your ship in the right direction, someone who sees you when you can't see yourself.

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