Sometimes these things are just so right on

When I remember, on Sundays, I read Rob Brezny's horoscope in the paper. His "predictions" are on target in unique ways, and they are never the typical one liners. Have you read him? Since discovering him while living in Northampton and reading The Valley Advocate (sometimes referred to as The Barely Adequate") which runs his column, I am a fan.

Sometimes his horoscopes are more like an enigma, they require actual thought before you can shake your head in violent agreement or shrug it off as meaningless drivel. Actually I have often done neither because it can take the unfolding of the week before I can begin to make head's or tales of his writings as it might pertain to me.

This week however it was clear as day how it applied to me, how much it summed up my conundrum.

"Dear Rob: In the past I've thought of balance as the ability to move between extremes without falling down. I pride myself on being a Weeble-Wobbler, the toy that always swings back up when you try to tip it over. But lately I'm wondering if I should expand my concept of what we Libras do. I have fantasies of experimenting with a balance that more closely resembles walking on a railroad track. I could dip a foot here and there, first this side then that, just for fun, and still remain on the track. Maybe in time I could even dance on the rail. Your thoughts? - Libra in Expansion Mode." Dear Expander: The coming weeks would be a great time, astrologically speaking, to try the experiment you described.

I have more than fantasies of changing the way balance manifests in my life, particularly regarding work. Going from nothing to full-time, stressful, banging your head against the wall work is more like riding the pendulum than practicing a balancing act. Being in school and unable to write, to not being in school and still not writing, again not an even keel. Tiny periods of being flush with cash, the rest of time rummaging in the change jar for cat food - I detest that!

For many years I have prided myself on my ability to ride the wave, and inevitable crash; I do think it takes talent, grace, and perhaps a touch of stupidity. Perhaps it's age, perhaps it's the crashing of the economy, perhaps I'm tired of being tossed about by the tides. I still yearn for flexibility, I crave a reasonably consistent income without long dry seasons matched with the briefest periods of lush cash; my problem is how to meet what appear to be mutually exclusive goals. I feel like I am a jill of all trades, mistress of none (hush GWF!). That's not quite true but close enough to the truth to make me feel like I have thrown away too many years doing whatever rather than whatever I choose. This is not the best fiscal climate to build a niche self employment business, though I suppose that is merely an excuse. Sigh.

Okay enough navel gazing without a solution, I think I will knit or play Zuma. But before I sign off, seriously check out his horoscopes!