I’ll try to break it down for you, make it so you don’t need to know any astrology to know what’s going on in the sky (and thus with you).

(Plus a reminder that I’m blogging here and on Substack because sometimes I write so much that I got to put the overflow here. I wanted Substack to be my new blog home, but it’s looking like I’ll be doing both. Substack though is where you will find subscriber-only posts. I would love your support!)

So.

Basically you’re at a crossroads. Wait. Let me back up. You were at a crossroads YESTERDAY and today you chose.

Did you? Did you choose?

We had a New Moon today. I wish I could draw you a map, a picture. I guess if I submitted to the digital revolution and dared make a Reel or some such I could show you. Instead I’ll try to tell you in words.

This is the beginning, the starting place. I feel it. Do you feel it?

But the vision I keep getting is of you, yesterday (or maybe you today or maybe you tomorrow) and there’s a path in front and a path behind and a path on either side. Four directions. And you don’t quite know where any of them will lead but you can’t just stand there, in the middle of it all. That would be madness. So you did your meditations and you did your trance states and you did your cards and your prayers and your ablutions and elixirs and constitutionals and you sat there in rapt silence, asking to be shown. Four directions. North South East West. Back, front, side, side. Where are you now? 

*

I keep trying to write about Pluto.

I keep trying to write about Pluto in the sky these days and Pluto in our charts, but really I just want to talk about how hot it’s been for days on end and I walk, even in the heat, due to errands or just to walk, and I have times where I feel like I’m going to die from it all. So I’ll write about my personal analysis instead. 

Field notes from last week: I insist on being diagnosed, but my analyst is wily. He stays away from the terminology. Insists on me explaining my interest in diagnosis. But I cornered him. Or he let me. I said okay let’s say we were making a list of six “things.” What would be on that list? What do I have? It’s a game, but not a game. We ended the phone call with three things on the list one of which was Existential Dread.

Like anxiety, I asked?
Oh much worse, he replied.

Everything points to something else. Everything points to the past. Every time we interact, the good and the bad you see in me, my personality, my character, is the result of my earliest relationships. And vice versa. I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to who held you (or didn’t) in your earliest moments/minutes/days/months.  We are our parents (or caregivers). We are not born anew. We are born reaching back. Existential dread. And then Milan Kundera died. And then I started rereading Camus. And then I decided I will write that new book even though the fate of the novel I finished last year is unknown.

I know there is a worm in the human heart (Jon Anderson/Albert Camus).

In other news: there is a terrible sadness in this city although this is true all over. No city is spared. Walking from 55th on the East side to 27th on the West and on the way to the store I passed by not one but two young mothers with infants, begging in the noonday heat.

*

There is a crossroads and we are in it, a maze, a labyrinth, but I beg of you: choose. It’s time to choose. I’m listening to Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions. I’m sitting in the air conditioning and I’m wondering if those young mothers are still on the street. I was reading Bion on the subway. I was reading about beta elements and alpha functioning and… there are babies on the streets of Manhattan who are feeding on, drinking up, internalizing, suckling the pain and fear and exhaustion of the mother. It is unbearable, searing. But here we are. I keep walking, thinking to myself: okay New York City, of all places, has supports in place and yet… what can I do?  And how long before they go insane from begging.

*
Pluto, they say, is death. Pluto, they say, is crisis. Pluto, they say, is regeneration. Pluto, they say, is rebirth. Pluto, they say, is penetration. Pluto, they say, is surrender and survival and 1001 keywords. Obsession. Power. I don’t know. Maybe all the planets are just energy. It’s just energy. At least in the natal. You might like the way Pluto feels so you like people with a prominent Pluto. But I know it’s not that simple. I know where Pluto is in the birth chart and where Pluto is by transit is where there will be… intensity and depth and A STORY. There will be a story. Pluto figures in the sky quite heavily at this time. You will feel it. I know you feel it.

*

I hope you’re doing good. I hope you’re doing great. I hope you’re having the last laugh. I hope you are… going beyond any and all limitations that were put on you. Because you’re a shining star. It’s so beautiful to see. It’s the best feeling not to “live up” to anyone’s low expectations of you. Don’t give up.

Alright. That’s all for now.

Your forever,
Aliza

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