Full Moon in Leo, or how Byron cured my busy work hangover

Byron, 1813-14, R. Westall (1765–1836)

So much has happened for me since the awaited solar eclipse of 15 January that I haven’t had time to process it all, much less try and write about it properly (sorry, Neeti!).

What I can say is there have been flashes of new beginnings for me, but it is too early to tell what they may spark or what shape they may take. Given that the solar eclipse new moon occurred close to my north node and natal Moon, I reckon that what changes it heralds will have to be processed emotionally. What it feels like following my ‘sleepy’ start to January is like the stuff I didn’t have the energy to get to just piled up behind a large hatch. At the eclipse, the hatch was released and all the stuff, junk and jewels both, tumbled out higgledy-piggledy in a crazy mess I’m still slowly trying to sort through.

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In search of a time-turner

Hourglass Is that what they call that thing Hermione (from the Harry Potter series) got to allow her to attend extra classes?

I want one to give me a few more hours in the day to manage everything from housework to real work to astrology work, and play, too.

So much has happened, and hasn’t (Mercury retrograde), in the past weeks, I haven’t had time to process it. But I thought having grumbled about it for the past year, I should announce that the thesis hurdle is cleared at last — or so I’m told! The documentation is delayed …

On Time

I shall be away for the next three weeks, but may post periodically, depending. In the meantime, I would like to leave you with a poem by W.H. Auden. I love the awkward images, as if the words themselves are ‘crooked’ and refuse to reinforce romantic clichés. In keeping with my mood this past week, it’s oddly pessimistic and lovely at the same time.

As I Walked Out One Evening
W.H. Auden

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
‘Love has no ending.

‘I’ll love you, dear, I’ll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

‘I’ll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

‘The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
‘O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

‘In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

‘In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

‘Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver’s brilliant bow.

‘O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you’ve missed.

‘The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

‘Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

‘O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

‘O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.”

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

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