Archive for energy

Bitchy Giggles

Posted in cute, family, film, photos, reading with tags , , , on October 21, 2011 by darcyarts

Egad! It seems that  a childhood illness I once suffered may have made a late-life return. The doctors agree that it looks like tuberculosis. That is the good news, assuming that we can agree, TB is preferable to the big C.

This is the point in my once workaholic creative life where I am trying to convince myself that slowing down is not so very awful.

So I’m fiercely independent. So I can’t sit still. I’m a doer. I do have a  list of tasks that constantly self-generates.

I’m wracked with maker-guilt at the measly amount of blog posts I’ve managed this month but my body demands that I take a frickin’ break.

I spent the summer arguing with myself about when I was going to chill. I planned long hours of peaceful reflection, film viewing, hours of devouring all the unread books I’ve got stashed but his leopard is finding it nearly impossible to change it’s spots.

I am impatient with myself. Work and care taking happen a little bit at a time and that will have to be okay.  I will get better at knowing my limits.

And now for the giggles (gifts from my daughter ♥):


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Doubt and Reason

Posted in socialization, writing with tags , , , , on October 5, 2008 by darcyarts

From Saturday:

I’m in a blurry daze and will go to work “spacing for the ol’ big-ass” as a friend used to say.

I woke before 5 a.m.

I was doing all kinds of things to get back to sleep but my mind was buggered from another confused exchange with my editor.

It kept ricocheting around in my head. What she said. What I said. The fact that she was sincerely trying to help me understand and the fact that I knew she once again completely misunderstood how I’d managed, this time, to mess things up.

I lie there in the dark and visualized my astrological chart. I revisited the planet energies that were firing up my natal (at birth) planet placements. I walked myself through that familiar picture, the Grand Water Trine, the Fire sign placements, the houses occupied and then it struck me, oh, yeah, I have a Yod.

This is definitely a heavy topic that requires a whole other blog rant, but suffice it to say, a yod creates tense energy that often feels nearly impossible to work out. It takes time, lots of time. You can’t fight it, you have to let things unroll as they may.

Transiting Saturn is now activating one arm of that Yod, the one that connects the natal Saturn/Neptune conjunction in my fifth house (creativity) to the natal Mercury in my tenth house (one’s reputation and career). And Saturn is the tough old teacher of our little universe.

I know I’m in the wrong business. My mind is full of what I’ve described before as carnival distractions. Analytical thinking is difficult and careful copy editing  for me, at times, is nearly impossible. My brain is like the blob slurping and slopping towards things, obsessively glomming onto some things, absorbing them, while others in my environment remain invisible to me.

I feel bad about the frequency of my sloppiness. I feel inferior because I cannot always be like the clear-headed people who easily lay out coherent words, sentences, paragraphs.

I can do it often but not consistently. It’s like my brain has weather. Some days its clear and sunny, capable of great coherence, other days there is a deep fog. I doubt it’s physiological because it’s pretty much always been this way when it comes to both by the written word and speech. I’m on or I’m off depending on  . . . what? Lunar vibrations? Blood sugar? Stress? Alien interference?

As we all know, inconsistency ain’t where it’s at in the business world. Time is money and everybody wants to get what they paid for.

The thing that is the biggest pain is that I know a good portion of what has molded the “relationship” with my editor is a deep misunderstanding between two personalities and bad, bad communication mojo. I just cannot talk to her. I know anything I say will sound like an excuse, which it partially is. I know she hates to hear excuses. She’s stressed. She expects the writers to shut up and deliver clean, information-packed copy, not vague poetry (natal Neptune).

But hey, this is the brain I’ve got. So, I’ve chosen to stay silent and walk away from these mangled attempts to interact.

She must have lots of fixed energy (astro term) and I do too. This mess has grown organically.

I’ve always been halfhearted about things that don’t interest me. That is immature and unprofessional. I agree. I suffer from the drawbacks of an undisciplined mind. There are probably exercises I could do to improve it but I’m lazy.

I’m not stupid. A  test, early on in my academic career, charted my IQ at 155.

A number of people (okay, two) have said to me — you seem like the kind of person who invents things. Two doesn’t seem like much but it is an odd thing to be told by even one person.

I suppose it could be a back-handed compliment or just shorthand for “bright but spacey.”

I’ve been told by others that I am the most creative person they’ve ever known.

I believe the frustrated energy in that big fat Yod, at work over decades, explains why I’ve had such a tough time translating all my creativity and a sincere desire to do good work into a “real” job.

Everything is affected by magnetic chemistry, whether it’s astrological or physical. I believe the two are inextricably entwined.

Some energies flow well and are naturally drawn together. Others instantly and irrevocably repell. I just feel like I’m in the wrong place.

I know the standard wisdom would be to buck up and deal, and I have been for years but at the same time I “feel” that there has been a play of repellent energies at work since the beginning. That is not a personal slam. It’s just the facts and it’s partially my fault.

I feel like Kenley from “Project Runway.” In pursuit of something she thinks she has always wanted, that she does have a talent for but trapped in her own little world. She sincerely feels the slams she receives are unjust because she knows the other person just doesn’t get her. She’s convinced that if they could just be inside her head they’d see how things really are.

Meanwhile she’s floating farther and farther out to sea on her own tiny iceberg. She’s too busy to even look up and she where she’s drifted.

Of course, the Project Runway finale is this Wednesday. Even though we’ve been set up to believe she cannot win the possibility exist that she may. I’m rooting for Jarell even though I love Korto and Portland Leanne, too.

I’m drifting. I’ve looked up and it looks like I’m on my way somewhere else.

The larger relationship with this particular corporate entity is a little sick. It’s not the ideal flow and I’m not the only one suffering from the dis-ease. It’s like a virus that changes forms and I believe it has infected most of the crew.

Still, times are exceedingly weird and I’m olderly. I’ll stay put until it’s time to move.

When my time caring for my old granny ends I would like to wander. I’ve got vim and vigor. I have a very healthy native curiosity and I love action.

Travel is good. Anyone need a hard-working future transient? I am multi-talented, reasonable, patient, unique and will work for mojo, sweaty, serious, spell-inducing mojo.

Here is my latest fortune from my Panda Bowl cookie: “Get your mind set. Confidence will lead you on to success.”

Orale!