The horoscope hits home

As I believe I have mentioned before, I adore Rob Brezsny's horoscopes. Per Sunny's suggestion eons ago I always read my sun sign and my rising sign's forecast, especially his. Many times in recent months it has seemed like he was writing just for me. While my sun sign hit home and was meaningful, this week's meditation for my rising resonated deep and hard.

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): It might be tempting to turn your home into a
womb-like sanctuary and explore the mysteries of doing absolutely
nothing while clad in your pajamas. And frankly, this might be a good idea.
After the risks you've taken to reach out to the other side, after the
bridges you've built in the midst of the storms, after the skirmishes
you've fought in the Gossip Wars, you have every right to retreat and get
your homebody persona humming at a higher vibration. So I say: Be
meticulously leisurely as you celebrate the deep pleasures of self-care.

The last several months, since deciding to and actually leaving Dayton have been a hard and exhilarating journey, there have been moments of deep grief, of knowing people were sitting in judgment, sure that people were writing their own version of what they perceived to be the truth no matter how far from my reality their story was, and I practiced deeply at letting go other people's stories about me. Every so often it comes up again, as it did a few weeks ago but this time I had a harder being a good Buddhist about it, wanting to contact the person to call them on their behavior, to chastise them for stirring the pot, for speaking out of turn. In the end I did none of those things but I did sit in my stew, rant about the ability of people to make trouble, and eventually I let it go.

As the sun fades less of the day is lit, the temperatures start to gently drop, the urge to hibernate, to hole up has begun to blossom in me. Yet I am still largely roaming and have no place that is home, not full time. The struggle to find a rhythm with no outside structure becomes bigger as time creeps on and the urge to contemplate my own navel becomes a stronger pull. My self care needs to include a schedule, a set of goals, perhaps even daily (other than getting out of bed) seems a way to lick my wounds and do more inner work; it really should be no surprise to me but yet it catches me off guard that I still feel hurt and angry about my last relationship. Though my wild ideas of foreign travel seem further away, it does not mean I need to forgo gathering my forces to challenge myself in other ways, so training for a potential hiking adventure will be part of the nurturing I give myself. As to contemplating the mysteries of doing nothing, I think I excel at that too well with no further enlightenment, so in order to work the idea of nothingness in a new fashion I purchased Yoga Journal's special issue, Yoga for Beginners in a fit of inspiration, or desperation, hard to know which in this case.

Regardless of where I lay my head, I can work on cultivating my inner cozy home. The addition of the fabulous Life is Good socks and pullover BC got will definitely help and are portable to boot.