His sense of time was different from the rest of the world
and yet his job as spiritual, magical, moral and even athletic coach to young
Arthur was to teach the king the importance of seizing a moment in time.
Sometimes, like Arthur, we have one chance to do the right thing.
In the legend of Arthur, the once and future king, Arthur
dies. Or does he? He is taken to the misty Isle of Avalon apparently mortally
wounded. He tried to show the local “kings” that working together was more
beneficial than fighting each other. By giving those in local power an equal
place at his round table, he indicated to them that he would exercise no
positional power over them. By granting them dignity, respect, affirmation,
acceptance and their own voices, and by appealing to their sense of honor, he
allowed them to believe with him that Right Makes Might.
Yet, also in the legend, old mistakes, however brief or
blameless, came back to haunt Arthur. Merlin tried to help, but by then he was
in his youthful indiscretion, no longer the wise old wizard who had changed
young Arthur to a fish so he could learn to swim or to a bird so that he might
fly. The wheel of time had turned and it was a time of change.
Arthur was taken, wounded, to Avalon. Merlin was frozen in a
cave. An important theme, no matter which version of the Arthur story you like,
is that once there was a time when the imperfect world of human beings
actually worked. It worked until it didn’t. Another theme is that Arthur will
return. The other thought, although it is seldom mentioned, is that Merlin is
likely to return too. Maybe we'll get a second chance.
From the way our world works now, sometimes I think we could
both of them. A returning hero with his wise counselor-magician, both cured of
their human vulnerabilities, would be a nice change of pace. If only it were so
easy.
Dealing with change is never easy. And yet, that wheel is
always moving. There are some days when I hate all surprises, even good ones.
But the Wheel of Fortune refers to larger changes in our lives, not the little
surprises.
The planet Saturn is entering Scorpio again. Saturn’s path
goes in 29 year cycles. Think of your birthday each year as your “solar return.”
The Sun returns to approximately the spot where it was the day you were born.
Of course, this movement is relative and the earth spins and goes around the
sun and not the other way around. But in an astrological sense, the sun comes
back to you, your spot, each year. Each of the planets—yes, I feel sorry for
Pluto because he got demoted—takes its own amount of time to pass through the
Zodiac. The Moon moves fastest, then Mercury, etc. Instead of a year, like the
Sun, Saturn takes 29 years.
Not to give away too much information for you arithmetically
inclined, but I’m approaching my Saturn return. It makes me thoughtful. In my
chart, Saturn isn’t particularly a bad thing. It says that older people have
been kind to me (true) and while I may not have had as much sponsorship or
mentoring as I wanted, it has made me used to living without supervision. Well,
being fairly self-reliant has worked for me in many ways, although I clearly
admit to loving being spoiled by The Hubs!
When the horoscopes say that I may find myself without some
of the support structures I’ve been used to, that’s a characteristic of Saturn
in Scorpio. So, in looking at the events in my life that happened when I was
born and when I was 29, I try to get an idea what my Saturn return has in store
for me.
For instance, I was “accidentally” born at home. I was a
couple of weeks early. Dad had flown to California for his Pentagon job,
something to do with the Air Force and housing and bases and such. My brother
was at the babysitter’s and Mom was alone in our home in the D.C. metro area.
Apparently things happened very quickly and in spite of the benefits of
civilization and modern medicine, Mom and I had our first mother-daughter
do-it-yourself project together. Mom never let Dad forget it either. When I
think about it, I’m pretty glad I played the role of the baby in this drama.
The other roles were a lot tougher.
“Did you pick me up by my feet and spank me?” I asked,
thinking of Butterfly McQueen in Gone With The Wind. No, I did my own little throat-clearing and breathed on my own. So many things could have gone wrong. Better
to be lucky than good, The Hubs says.
When I was 29, my mother died. She was 42 when I was born
and had lived my entire childhood in terror of dying before I was officially
out of the nest. Once I did leave the nest, she was really upset that I had.
No, REALLY upset. But since her illness was long and awful, we had had plenty
of time to talk, just never enough time. She was in the hospital with no
special measures requested and we went to see her. That time, that last moment when
we talked, that was like no other. She knew I would be forever unsupervised now
and we finally agreed I would probably be OK. I didn’t care about that then. I
just wanted to talk to her and have her talk to me. We let each other go.
Now, at my second Saturn return approaching, comically
coincidental with the end of the Mayan Calendar, I learned today that my boss
was let go. His position was eliminated in that awful “nothing personal” thing
companies do when they say thank-you and good-bye. He and I had had a rocky
start to our relationship with vastly different approaches to management. He
was what many call a micro-manager which so many talented, intelligent workers
despise as an insult to all that they are. Saturn is the School of Hard Knocks,
the Hard Lesson, Tough Love. When an earlier organizational change had me reporting
to him, I took it as an opportunity to learn how to let go of the ego of being
a talented, intelligent worker and just concentrate on doing a good job,
learning new things, being kind and trying to bring sanity to the workplace. We
ended up working well together.
More than the loss of my boss, my vice president made a huge
decision to move to a different company so he could spend more time with his
family. It’s likely that more changes are coming.
I can bark at this wheel turning, this Wheel of Fortune with
its ups and downs, like my first husband’s family dog who chased Volkswagens on
their street. BeBe chased until one day she caught one! She rolled around the
wheel well while we all screamed in horror. Just that fast she was spat out
behind the bug, running around in circles and still barking, completely unhurt.
But BeBe never chased cars again.
The wheel of change is going to happen whether I “bark” or
not. It’s going to be easier if I adjust quickly, without anger or fear, and
adapt to the new circumstances. Of course, it will be just like two Saturns
ago. Just take a breath.
Best wishes.
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