Ancestral Direction

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Home: Carlsbad, California

As the Taurean New Moon passes, the Muse violently demands my full attention, a deep commitment and dedication to a new direction. Adopting a true Taurean style, she’s stubborn and determined. As I deeply inhale, she makes her way in and travels through every crevice and corner of my being. For days at at time, all I can do is write, and write, and write some more. Though my hands ache, there’s no satiating her. As I sweat, she travels through my body at a faster pace.  She whispers, “You must write. You must tell. You must share these lines that have been carved into your bones. Give birth to the words that consume you.” Her whispers increasingly get louder as the time passes.

My Piscean moon has been delving into parts of the ocean I swore to never explore. I’m diving deeper, deeper, deeper without oxygen. As I allow my body to sink deeply, the ecstasy of sensory deprivation takes over. And there, in the depths of the ocean, a story, a cosmic memory, comes pouring into my mind. The Seagoat in me travels to its Neptunian nest and enters a world of dreams crafted from materials illusory in nature. It is there that I am greeted by an Ancestor of mine – the one who was a prolific and respected writer while he lived. I sit in a chair which appears to be made of iridescent scales and he finally looks to my direction. In Spanish, he says, “I have been watching over your journey since that bus driver Sam told you, you had a purpose to carry out. It was the very first time you also wished you were dead. Remember him? You were 10. It’s been me all along. I have watched you burn in the depths of hell and climb mountains made of quicksand. A dedicated goat with the outer shell of an innocent nurturer, the inner world of a cosmic Siren, and the soul of a Phoenix. I have seen you drown and miraculously re-revive yourself a thousand times over. All these experiences were here to help you understand our lineage, our suffering, and what you’re here to change and dissolve. You are here to continue the work in which I started.” He paces around the kaleidoscopically colored room. Seemingly troubled by a plague of thoughts. “The Ancestors have been watching you. For the past 28 years, you’ve been given no choice, but to rely on yourself. We’ve always been here, but in the physical plane, it’s been you. We’ve marveled at how you’ve made due. In the coming months, that’s going to change. Your next lesson will be one learning how to receive, on learning how to be part of a greater whole – something foreign to you, you’ve always been the lone wolf. It won’t be easy, but necessary for your next initiation. You won’t make it without a pack. We’ve left some guidance around you. Your new living space? There’s a key there. Don’t try to look for it, be open to letting it find you.” Suddenly, he vanishes. My sinking body comes to the realization that oxygen is needed and a drowning sensation replaces the ecstasy of deprivation. With full force, I kick my legs, and re-emerge: “The time is now.”