Always we begin again.
Cycles within and following cycles, we are lucky that when we align ourselves with the cosmos, we always begin again. We come around to a place where we have been, and look upon it with new eyes, illuminated eyes, that we may approach this place with grace and wisdom.
So I find myself here. It’s funny that, so much happens in my life but I do not write about it unless it has this feeling of newness, of beginning again, of potential. And yet, the magic of my life is in the every day. Most of the time we live the every day, rising and working and eating and sleeping, and it is this rhythm that drives us. Sometimes it feels uninspired, other times it is a comfort. But it seems so plain, so unremarkable, that I do not write about the little things.
It is Scorpio season, the time when I am most me on the inside. Things are calm and solid and true. I know where I have been and where I am going; I am grounded in who I am.
I am more of this world than I hoped I was, yet I am still separate from it. I am a spectre; I only exist when you can see me and hear me. And, when you do not, I do not. I know this to be true, for it is proven by experience. I fade from the memory of those who loved me easily, until it is like I have never existed outside of a dream.
I am abundant, complete; I am an Empress – but I am not infinite, I am not divine. I cannot reach out forever, declaring my existence over and over again. Always it fades, and always we begin again.
This time, I begin again for me.
I am the microcosm of the whole / Kindred of star and stone and greenwood tree