The Reluctant Astrologer
"The prediction was coming true—of course, astrologers don’t like to call it a prediction, but it was a prediction nevertheless. And it was worse in this case because Kendra herself was the astrologer; the predictor. She certainly wasn’t a fortune teller, and she certainly believed that free will could overcome any karmic challenge that might arise, but it was shocking to see how her life seemed to be dissolving in front of her.
She had to admit that it was a liability of her profession to sometimes see too much. Signs and synchronicities had a way of seeping into her psyche like water slowly rising in the basement. She didn’t use the words like good or bad, but instead she believed in “fierce grace.” Anything could be turned around, and often what felt like a terrible fate could turn into grace. Sometimes the change occurred because of what we did, sometimes it was because of what we didn’t do; our patience. At this point, all she knew was that she desperately needed some of that “fierce grace.”
Kendra had been an astrological counselor for over twenty years, and it felt good to be on the helping side of things, to be on the “knowing” side, of this profession. How easy it had been to encourage her clients in “foul weather or fair” or suggest ideas as to how to handle the moment of crisis or opportunity. But no matter how many ways she looked at her chart now, she saw only the slipping away of certainty and the call of an unknown summons –a prediction that she could not evade or barely understand.
Kendra liked to muse on possibility and probability. But her rambling thoughts now were a liability rather than an asset. Her hands clenched and gripped the steering wheel in an effort to keep the car from careening out of control. The windshield wipers fought fast against the icy rain, as her eyes tried to adjust to the kaleidoscopic white swirls of snow coming at her. She kept her frozen foot on the accelerator at a steady 50 MPH. She was going to make it to the city before dark; she was going to make it to Boston before she lost her courage.
Courage. People would call Kendra when they needed to summon their courage. She loved that word, because in French it meant to “take heart” and she was good at helping others do this. She believed in the power of a generous heart and a beginners mind. But before this, she had always been on the giving end of the encouragement and the receiving end of the numbers—the birth dates, times, and credit card numbers. It had been an honor to be invited into the private lives of others, and to get paid for it.
Kendra needed to concentrate on the road, but the wipers were mesmerizing as they thrashed across the windshield. Kendra turned off the old “Enya” CD and turned on the car radio station. Country music, static, hard rock and roll, or the oldies station playing the Eagles version of “Desperado”. She switched it all off. Maybe she should think about this plan to defuse the energies of Saturn, Pluto and Uranus. It was an old story for sure, of death, reinvention and rebirth. But if astrology was about anything, it was about trusting what she had always called “Divine Right Timing.”
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This is the beginning of a new book I'm working on right now--a novel about 2 women--one in her first Saturn Return at age 29, and one in her second Saturn Return at age 59. It's a novel about reinventing one's life, and is interwoven with astrological lore/wisdom.
I imagine that YOU might be a reader-- although I must admit I don't know how it would get published. If any of you readers have ideas about birthing a book like this, or if you'd like me to post the book while writing, I'd be willing...maybe I need to hear from YOU....are you there?