The entire feel of this personal tale is decidedly Saturn/Pluto: seemingly endless, slogging, and difficult, to the point of intractable! But now, after nearly three weeks, I can begin to look back, as the finale appears to have occurred this morning, I see this tale also as, in its ending, blessed by expansive, generous, lucky Jupiter, which remember, is now approaching the Saturn/Pluto conjunction. Saturn currently at 25°, Pluto still at 23°, and Jupiter at 14°. And, as usual with me, a spell of Neptunian woo-woo colors the whole thing.
The tale has layers, too, lots of them. Hard to put into words, as is anything deeply Plutonian (and Neptunian!). Let’s start with the deepest layer. In the post of two days ago I mentioned that I was still deep into my Recapitulation Project. And what has captured me since mid-January (just as Saturn/Pluto conjuncted), are old journals, specifically those from the ’80s, when I was in my 40s, and Saturn/Pluto started their work in the Libra — relationship — area of the zodiac.
I spent over a week with the detailed meticulous journals I kept of a strong two year sexual/emotional (PLUTO) relationship, 1988-89. I found myself paying close attention to how I had been driven to move from my mind into my feelings, over and over again, and what I found down there felt by turns ecstatic and tortured. I marvel now, as a 77-year-old crone who has been basically “integrated” internally, male and female, for a number of years (see my Discourse on Love), at how much suffering I attracted, given my obsessive need for attachment.
Then two days ago, I began to sink into another sexual (PLUTO) relationship from that era, this one earlier, in 1984, and only two months long, but even more intense, because more of me was involved. Whereas the two-year relationship illustrated the extreme divergence between my freedom-loving, Truth-seeking Sagittarian Sun/Ascendant/Mars and my deeply security-oriented Moon in Taurus exactly sextile (60°) to Jupiter in Cancer, that relationship did not open into the spiritual realms. No. It was always focused on the ambivalence within me and between us, between body/emotions and mind. The earlier one, however, equally ambivalent, did open into higher expanded dimensional realms with another, as never before in my life. And left me, as it abruptly ended, utterly devastated.
In both these relationships, both featured by Libran ambivalence on the parts of both partners, I was trying to control (SATURN) the other’s response to me. Over and over again, this desperate need to control (SATURN) the life force (PLUTO), hugely activated through sexual contact with a significant other.
Okay, let’s add another layer to this tale.
During these perinigrations through old journals from the ’80s, by finding myself myself down inside the extreme turbulence of those times, as a result, when I surfaced, it was with much more compassion than usual, recognizing in a deeper way what others go through, especially young ones, like those with whom I live here in Green Acres Permaculture Village. They are in their prime of life. Of course personal relationship issues dominate their reality; and they have an even more complicated set of conditions to deal with, given the pervasive social media context of their “hook-up” culture, plus of course, the weirdness of the “me too” version of feminism, and not to mention both polyamory and the current confusing (and demoralizing for all concerned) slicing of genders into way more than two.
Okay. That describes my internal process during this Saturn/Pluto in Capricorn time. Now let’s go external to my psyche, and notice what was going on inside this house during that same time period: the stove clock (SATURN, pretending to structure time itself) started going on and off, clicking while doing so. As the clock started to fail, so did the electric oven. (The stove burners are gas.) Not all the time, but the weird episodes gradually lengthened, intensifying. Then the lights in the kitchen and den started dimming too, at the same time as the clicking. Hmmm. Looks like some sort of serious (SATURN) problem. Something having to do with electrical power (PLUTO). How to even diagnose (SATURN) the problem, much less apply a SATURN fix?
Then, a whole day went by without any issues with stove clock, clicking, or dimming lights. I wondered. Huh? Might the problem have resolved itself?
Recall that I was deep into the Recap Project via journals. Suddenly, I wondered: might my long dead husband Jeff be telling me that this clock/clicking/dimming business was some kind of signal from him (he’s been known to offer me guidance before in all sorts of paranormal ways). My immediate thought: is he telling me that yes, this Recap Project via journals is important; this look back at my emotional/spiritual life, and how turbulent I used to feel; that the result, a deepening compassion for both myself and others, is what I do need to undergo in my life now?
Just as I thought this, the stove clock went offf! Again! After 24 hours, a single click, and a single moment of dimming. Wow! Was this Jeff’s response? His way of saying “yes”?
I was excited. Geez! Maybe now the weirdness won’t happen anymore, now that I’ve gotten the message.
However, the whole scenario started up again a few hours later, and now it was almost constant. Click click click dim, dim, dim, over and over again, with only a few minutes rest between episodes. Of course I felt discouraged, and berated myself for thinking that Jeff had been trying to communicate with me.
Now a nagging alert, a warning, started to worm its way in. Maybe this stove/lights situation is actually dangerous!
I called a friend of mine who is a licensed electrician. He came over and checked all the outlets, the breakers, etc. Everything worked. So, we figured, well, somehow maybe the electronic thingie (SATURN, a structure) in the stove was also somehow making the lights dim? So he turned off the breaker to the stove. We can live without an oven for awhile; there’s a countertop oven, and meanwhile, we’ll check around for a used oven to exchange for this one, since the electronic thingie inside cost $285 and they don’t even make them anymore (the stove stopped being made in 2008).
A few days went by without incident. Then, whoops! Yesterday, all of a sudden the lights in the kitchen, the fridge, the freezer, the furnace, and the lights in my bedroom suddenly went off. And wouldn’t turn back on. I called the electrician. He said to call Duke Energy, that he figures the problem is probably in the box on the outside of the house that only Duke is supposed to open. So I did. Duke arrived within the hour, checked the box, and indeed, my electrician had guessed correctly. Furthermore, the situation was dangerous, and could have caused a fire. The guy from Duke turned off the power to the whole house, and told me to call my electrician, that it’s a simple fix, and so no need for an inspection by the city —even though when I call Duke back they will say there IS a need for a city inspection first. He repeated: it’s just a simple fix, no need for an inspection.
So the electrician came over, bought what was needed and fixed it. This took three hours. The house was getting colder. I put a blanket on puppy Shadow, bundled up, and read more journals. When he was done, as instructed, I called Duke back to reconnect. The person on the line said Duke would come out to reconnect, but that I needed to call the city for a permit and an inspection. Permit? That was the first I had heard of a permit. (BTW: all this business about laws, rules, inspections, permits, is, you guessed it, SATURN. Clamping structures over dangerous PLUTONIAN power). What? This had been an emergency, power was out, and it was winter.
I called the city, and was told yes, I need a permit, but since it was an emergency, and the work was already done, they could issue it retroactively. I just needed to go down tomorrow morning to fill out the paper work and they would get an inspector out there.
The electrician was worried. What if they told me I needed to get the entire house up to the new electrical code (issued statewide December 26, 2019, and in which a single breaker, for example, will go from present cost of $10 to $100!). To get the house up to the new code would cost thousands of dollars . . . (Oh yeah, SATURN, and PLUTO! Especially since transit Pluto sits in my second house of self-worth (e.g. money), and opposes Jupiter in Cancer during this fabled Saturn/Pluto year . . .)
So I drove down there, in my car that I had pledged to myself not to drive when it was slushy or icy or rainy like this morning, since the (usually unseen) bottom (PLUTO) of my 13-year old Prius is so severely rusted (PLUTO) from chemicals they salt the roads with that only a month ago I had to replace a part down there for $300.) (Yeah, unexpected money outlay, second house: Saturn/Pluto again.)
But: when I arrived at the City Building Department, and told the female clerk the situation, she said I didn’t need an inspection, because it was an emergency, and the fix was an easy one. That she wouldn’t charge me for a permit.
YES! At last Jupiter to the rescue. She and I had a nice talk. Where had we met before? We still haven’t figured it out.
Throughout this entire ordeal, I was stunned by how my two principles, that I say “cover everything,” were so precisely and powerfully illustrated.
- What we are doing on this planet is moving stuff around,
2) Moving stuff around is always just an excuse for relationship.
Throughout the entire ordeal of “fixing the stuff”, my relationships with the electrician, the two Duke guys, and the female city clerk, were warm and gracious, generous. Deeply human. Though several bureaucracies (SATURN) were involved, I was dealing with real people who happen to work inside them. YES! So very grateful!
Oh, and afterwards, my housemate Camden noticed that the whole episode might have been created by Jeff after all, since he knew it was dangerous, and so decided to accelerate the clicking and dimming hugely, given that I had interpreted that single click after my sudden intuition as a sign that I had gotten the message.
Okay now, back to 1984-85, and that two-month relationship. Still not done ploughing through the roiling, clicking, dimming emotions of those years. Thanks Jeff!