How I dispelled this morning’s “Bad Mood/Moon” or: Let’s go. Time to Kick Butt.

Let’s just say it threatened to become a full-blown bad moon, oops, no: Bad MOOD. Well actually, that the spelling of these two words is similar is telling. Moods are lunar phenomena, they wax and wane, often rooted in habits and memories from the past, and yep, that’s exactly what happened.

I’ve been stymied for a few days on an internet problem with my tendrepress archival site, which still isn’t back up. Several people helping me from a distance on that. I was stymied last night by a problem trying to get my computer to connect to my big screen. A dear neighbor helped me with that. There are still a few outstanding technical issues with the new solar array. I await word from designer Ryan on that.

Despite all these wonderful folks rallying around me, the technical issues still felt so frustrating that for the past few days a tiny part of me has wanted to scream. Like the way I used to scream at poor Jeff, my late husband, when my computer did something weird that I didn’t understand and I demanded that he fix it, NOW! (I look back, and feel terrible that I acted that way. Geez! So now, yeah, let’s mix bad, shameful, memory in with the bad mood . . .)

And then the kicker: Colin couldn’t drive with me to Boston after all. Too much work. In itself, that felt okay, in fact almost welcome, given what I’m dealing with here. But still . . .

Then this morning, I spoke with someone close to me who tends to get sick. A lot. Once again I mentioned urine therapy to him, and once again he brusquely brushed me off. I know he thinks it’s crazy, and me crazy for doing it myself and advocating it to others and continuing to push it on him. And I know that he was feeling so bad that he couldn’t help but act in that brusque manner, which made me feel bad that I tried, again, to change him!

So that’s what really set off the bad moon/mood. For both my attitude (of frustration, fury, concern, bewilderment that a simple taboo would stop an intensely otherwise creative man in his tracks, and shame at my lingering need to control others) and what I do see as his astonishing insistence on remaining ignorant of a very potent way to regain and ensure health and longevity.

I’ve used my own urine for years as medicine, for any ailment, including a vicious annual allergy to poison ivy that disappeared when I drank my own morning urine for a month just prior to the start of that year’s poison ivy season. I got one allergic reaction that summer, but it was so mild I hardly noticed it. In the years since I might get another extremely mild case of poison ivy each summer, again so mild that it serves just to tell me that somewhere along the line I did come in contact with it. Nothing like before, where my intense aversion to getting poison ivy would keep me out of the woods entirely for five months of the year and, even so, I was guaranteed to spend at least half each summer suffering up to three cases of two-week long, angry, supporating rashes.

And yet, actually drink my own urine? Huh? Nobody believes me! Except Laura Bruno.

And of course, his rejection reminded me of all the other times that I’ve been refused, my ideas thought way too out there or even insane. That’s what happens when you’re drawn to work with taboos, those places in the human psyche that hold a huge charge, because they’ve been so long denied. Like my work with the Crone archetype in Crone Chronicles (1989-2001). How many times did I hear I should not put “that word” in the title of a magazine?

In any case, all of this early morning’s frustration and rejection combined to threaten to plunge me into a “bad mood.” And of course, I’ve been paying attention to my own inner states for years, and was highly aware of this threatened clamp down in consciousness. So I did what I always do, what I do every single morning. I went for a nice, long, brisk walk with puppy Shadow. And of course, even the faintest tendrils of that bad mood/moon disappeared. And of course the stuck place within me was bathed in blood and lymph and chi, coursing through my cardiovascular system, setting me straight, opening me up, once again, to the universe.

Yeah, walking. It’s another simple remedy. I really don’t think it’s possible for anyone to suffer depression if they actually do something physical that gets the heart racing every single day.

Yeah. Let’s start over in 2014. Use that explosive, volatile Uranus/Pluto power to throw out the damn pills and let in the light. So that we can actually do what we all signed up for when we agreed to incarnate NOW, during this intensely climactic time. Please!

Pretty please?

Wake up! Let’s go!

2014. Time to kick butt.