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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Life doesn’t need us to boss it around.

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Keeping Yourself at Arm’s Length (Blog #185)

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It’s two in the morning, and I just woke up from a nap. After a hard day of–well–reading and that’s about it, I was beat. I did go for a two-hour walk, so maybe that’s what did me in. Maybe some days life just catches up to you. Either way, I’m not sure the nap helped. Currently I can’t quite get my brain to turn on and stay on. It feels like I’m futzing with the switch–up and down, up and down–but there must be a short in the circuit. In terms of writing something brilliant, funny, or profound, things aren’t especially looking up. I realize a writer saying that is a bit like a restaurant saying, “Come on down–our food is–meh,” but it’s honest.

As my friend Trey used to say, “Some days chickens, some days feathers.”

Yeah, today is definitely a feather sort of day. Usually I go for a walk–I don’t know–around midnight. But tonight I went for a walk at 7:30. I thought, Be like the rest of the world, Marcus. The sun is setting. This will be so picturesque. So I took off down the street, crossed over the interstate, and entered what I like to think of as a less populated area of town–kind of country, no sidewalks. Well, shit. There were cars everywhere. Why people weren’t at home with their families on a Sunday evening like God intended, I’ll never know, but I kept stepping off the road and into the ditches to avoid becoming a headline in tomorrow’s newspaper.

I should probably give in and become one of those people who wear reflective tape or blinking lights when they go out walking. You know the ones. I could even wear an orange vest, or if I wanted to really gay it up, somehow rig a disco ball to hang over my head. Maybe just stretch pants with a lot of sequins would do. Anyway, I eventually made it to a part of town with fewer cars and more sidewalks, but the whole affair gave me a lot of sympathy for animals. If they’re anything like me, they’re probably really pissed off at all the people in automobiles who have the nerve to actually use the roads for driving on. As for the animals who only come out late at night, I don’t blame them.

The book I’m currently reading is called Childhood Disrupted: How Your Biography Becomes Your Biology, and How You Can Heal by Donna Jackson Nakazawa. (That was a mouthful.) Beautifully written, the book outlines how trauma in early life can lead to chronic inflammation and the loss of healthy immune function in later life. This afternoon I read about techniques you can use to help yourself heal, many of which were familiar–yoga, chi kung, mindfulness. But there were a couple of techniques I hadn’t heard of, so I immediately went to Google in search of practitioners to visit and workshops to attend. Well, I couldn’t find anyone or anything locally, and that caused me to freak out a little, the same way I do anytime I see a recommended reading list. My friend Bonnie says I get stressed because I misread “recommended” as “required,” but either way it always feels as if “health and healing” and “the right information” are just beyond my grasp.

Oh good–a new way to stretch tight muscles. Oh crap–I have to fly to Switzerland to learn it.

Overwhelmed, I put the book down, went for the walk in traffic I mentioned earlier, and listened to another book (on tape) about a woman who had a near-death experience. Naturally, I thought, I need to have a near-death experience! Honestly, I love all the information, but I could do without the internal pressure that tells me constantly to transform or be like somebody else. The last time I saw my therapist she reminded me of the time I fasted from reading, watching, or listening to anything that could be considered positive or helpful, and it may be time to do that again. I’m envisioning spending a solid week watching Queer as Folk or listening to Come On Eileen on repeat, maybe sniffing some glue if I start thinking too much.

Now it’s 3:30, and I’m at 700 words. My brain is still nowhere to be found, things are moving slower than normal, and I think this is what it felt like in the beginning–not the beginning of the world, but the beginning of this blog. What am I going to say now? Well, your guess is as good as mine, especially since I keep getting distracted by Facebook and an article about the zodiac signs that just informed me Virgos (like me) are the most difficult sign to love because 1) we’re the most self-sufficient sign, 2) we approach relationships from a managerial position (which is apparently not a turn on), and 3) we tend to keep people at arm’s length until we know we can trust them. Well, first, that sucks but seems accurate. Second, if this sounds like a drag to any potential partners, don’t worry–I’ll take care of it–I’m sure there’s an answer somewhere on a recommended reading list.

Well, crap. I think I just proved their point.

I heard recently that no one person holds your health or life in their hands. You could be on your deathbed, and if heaven or the gods decided they wanted you to live, you would. I think this is a good reminder for me. So many times I get caught up thinking that I need more information or yet another bodyworker in order to get the kink out of my back. This sort of thinking, of course, is about as peaceful as going for a walk on the side of a busy road. But the truth is I already have a ton of information, and I’ve worked with more professionals than some people work with in a lifetime. Plus, healing never seems to be something you find at the end of a chapter. Rather, I think it comes in those moments when you’re able to break down your walls, let love in and out, and therefore stop keeping both others and yourself at arm’s length.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Miracles happen."