Today, Saturn and Pluto conjunct exactly, by degree, and to the minute

Saturn/Pluto conjunct 22°48 Capricorn.

I offer you one astrologer’s excellent contemplation of the past two Saturn/Pluto cycles, leading up to the ending of this cycle and the beginning of another. BTW: the halfway point for this last Saturn/Pluto cycle (Saturn opposite Pluto) is forever symbolized by the iconic events of 9/11. Note: on the morning of that surreal and horrific day, the first Tower was hit when Pluto was on the Ascendant and Saturn on the Descendant of the chart for the U.S.A. Bingo.

The Sabian Symbol for the 23rd degree of Capricorn:

TWO AWARDS FOR BRAVERY IN WAR

Sabian Symbols: Saturn Pluto Conjunction 2020

Excerpt:

The hint here is that these are times when the need arises for exceptional service. What we may hope for is that certain people step up and, at some personal cost, are willing to confront injustice. We may trust they will be rewarded for doing so.

The last cycle of Saturn-Pluto was very clearly brought to a head by the World Trade Centre atrocity and as another begins, that cycle is now ending.

Did we learn whatever we were being prompted to learn? Who can say?

The Sabian Symbol for that event was: “A Widow’s Past Brought to Light”, which is very much to do with dealing with unresolved issues from the past.

Each of us has that to do on every level, and the Saturn-Pluto conjunction will expose the extent to which we have not yet done so.

_____

On this long-awaited day, the brave people of Iran are rising up en masse to confront their tyrannical government.

 

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My FULL MOON/Lunar Eclipse, and how it Illuminated Saturn/Pluto

See this morning’s post.

On my solo woodsy walk, during which, by the way, I got lost. Twice. . . That part feels more like Neptune than Saturn/Pluto conjunct Moon opposite Sun/Mercury — and I finally took a photo of the map to orient me —

— but it meant  that the walk, as a consequence felt like a heavy trudge, an ordeal — especially because I did not sleep well last night; my entire body/mind/psyche felt very “Saturn/Pluto” as a matter of fact, how to describe . . . a dark foreboding, a harsh, stern, endless struggle enveloping not just me, but the whole Earth. No play, no joy, just unremitting, unrelenting trauma and insomnia, and the hard work of trying to banish monkey mind, and especially, relax.

Full Moon/lunar eclipse occurred at 2:21 pm EST today, at 21° Cancer, directly conjunct and opposite the ongoing, and now climaxing Saturn/Pluto saga. Here it is for Acton, Mass.

So, on my walk today, which I ended just prior to Full Moon, and besides Neptunian, that walk also felt felt VERY Uranian — sudden surprising veering off-trail without realizing it — and those Uranian swerves increased the Saturn/Pluto slog, making me double back twice — I must have trudged up and down Great Hill three full times trying to find my way out of the place.

While I sometimes relish long treks, not this one. It was icy, and I was exhausted even before I began, doing it as a matter of daily duty (Saturn), and aiming for just an hour, and was out there for two hours. Famished. Especially since I started at noon and had not eaten lunch. Plus, this 77-year-old is increasingly leery of falling on ice and breaking (Uranus) something . . . Plus, the immense effort required to go up, up, up, up, three times, while hoisting my aging, exhausted legs and feet over logs, nearly tripping on hidden roots. Having to remain utterly centered and focused, despite the arduous nature of the task, the relentless slogging sense of pushing my weak, hungry body way beyond its comfort zone. Arduous, necessary, dogged, no fun, just work.

That’s Capricorn Saturn/Pluto  in a nutshell, folks! Especially when closely illumined by the Full Moon at 21° Cancer (family), and here I am with family for the final day and Kiera is too sick to get up and walk with me, and everybody else is working, laboring at their own hard tasks.

I should say, it’s all very Saturn; I feel myself pushing Pluto down, trying not to allow  the great upwelling of Plutonian primal life energy . . . On the other hand, what got me through that lost period but primal life energy? I am always surprised when I have more energy than I recognized before I began. Always surprised when I can draw on the universal aliveness powering everything when needed, when I prove resilient, even in tough conditions. Not that this was tough. No dogs or wild animals or murderers were chasing me. It was purely my own life energy that felt depleted, and still I had to push on, draw on the invisible inflowing for fuel. I wince to imagine how people with no homes, no food, no love anywhere, can survive during these difficult times.

Of course I should feel grateful. And I know that I do, but just not now. Today I look at all that is ahead of me — two legs to the journey, on lousy Spirit airlines, where the seats don’t recline and I had to pay $100 extra just for just one bag (they charge for each flight) besides for the seats I chose (aisle). First flight 3.5 hours. Second flight 2.5 hours, with only 45 minutes layover in Orlando Florida. Yuck.

Then, on return home, must get my car towed in— the ABS (brake) light went on the day before I flew out here . . . and must attend to numerous other (Saturn) duties, on and on —

Oh wow! Sean just told me that Kiera’s fever broke, she is back up and around, and she and Drew will both come for dinner this evening, and the Bill Hicks movie afterwards. Another Uranian swerve, on this amazing Full Moon/Lunar Eclipse day. Our little family will gather one more time after all. I feel better already.

Oops! What will she think of the fact that I finished our hard sloggy Saturn/Pluto clearing  project (see previous posts) without her permission?

Both our visits with family and our project concluded on the Full Moon, signifying fruition! Wow. Yes, feeling better already as I notice synchronicities provided by the universe.

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With Grandkids, 1/9/2020: Cleaning project completed, but with a twist

Saturn/Pluto conjunct (exact to both degree and minute on Sunday) is guaranteed to throw a wrench into forward movement of any hard task, no matter how much momentum has been generated. At least that’s what I’ve experienced so far, and the key is to just surf the sudden and unexpected change in plans. And actually, it’s not Saturn/Pluto that’s the culprit, it’s the fact that unpredictable Uranus is now stationary, turning to go direct tomorrow, when  Kiera and I both fly out.

But will Kiera fly out? She got sick on the evening of the day we went to Nancy’s, which threw our well-oiled forward motion of actually cleaning up her stuck energy table area at Sean’s. We’d spent two days on it, and had only an hour or two left to go. It would be easy to get it done.

So now what? All day yesterday she spent in bed at her Mom’s house with a fairly high fever, and I spent here at Sean’s working on a two-part essay I was invited to compose for the newsletter that goes out to Crones Counsel folks. Last night Drew was again here for dinner, and the two of us once again jumped into a geopolitical discussion that went all over the place, but especially focused on that Ricky Gervais Golden Globes red-pill. But then, was he really what he appeared to be? I asked that in the middle of the night, when, in one of my sleepless ipad hours I came across this:

We Need to Talk About That Ricky Gervais Monologue at the Golden Globes

So important to stay centered, and balanced, and open to new perspectives. Drew is very good at that, in part due to his wonderful Political Science teacher who has them all debating current issues every day, and goes by no curriculum except his own. YES!

This morning, dilemma: Kiera is still sick. Should I finish our cleaning project on my own, even though the only way she would allow me to  help her earlier was to separate what was trash from what was donated or recycled. I.e., she had to go through every little thing, big or small, first. Would I invite her Mars/Moon in late Aries wrath if I took over?

I decided I would do it, just get it done. I knew she considered much of what was on the table top sacred. And that there was another full box on the floor by the chair, and some piled stuff on the chair that she had already decided to keep.

Okay. I’ll get boxes, put each pile in one, and label it. “This stuff on floor, not yet gone through,” This stuff on chair, already saved,” “This stuff on table top,” etc. and then get all the boxes upstairs, to her bedroom, where she can go through them the next time she’s home. So that’s what I did, even clearing the rest of the shelves, and the extremely gunky place behind the shelves that was full of hair and cobwebs.

The stuff, now relocated, and with labels:

 

 

The newly cleared room!

Decided to leave a memento for Sean, saving the stuff attached to the light, so that when he’s working there, he will be reminded of his intensely creative and prolific Sun in Leo daughter.

Sean and I and Lily . . .

— odd name for a large, powerful, heavily muscled dog, until you remember that the name comes from “Lilith” Eve’s sister, the wild one. Told Sean this, and reminded him that the first Lilith figure in his life was me, his Mom (poor Sean!), the second, his daughter Kiera,. “She represents a hidden, wild, feminine part of yourself that you have projected upon others.” He took it pretty well.

Sean and Lilith in nearby woods, yesterday.

Sue made some chicken soup for Kiera and I’ll walk over to heat it up for her now. Then hike, this time solo, in the same nearby woods once more, and finish my Crone writing here at Sean’s, just in time for a political debate with Drew this evening, and, finally, The Bill Hicks Story with the two of them. Off to the airport early tomorrow morning, hopefully with Kiera, too.

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Sorry, no ARKCroneCast this week!

Due to my travel to Boston (January 3-11), plus producer Gabrielle’s internet down for past two days at home in Bloomington Indiana. Return Wednesday January15 to regular weekly schedule. Mea culpa!

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With Grandkids, 1/8/2020: Looping through time with old friends

Yesterday was our most full day of this January visit. In the morning “Ex”-daughter-in-law Sue, Kiera, and I drove to Essex to visit dear old friends Nancy and Ray, and their son Gil who now lives with them to help care for Ray,  diagnosed with Alzheimer’s nine years ago. Here’s student architect Ray, back in 1969, on the iconic Life Magazine cover sporting the iconic T-shirt he designed for the protests.

And here he is now, having just arrived home from his thrice-weekly 8 AM to 3 PM Daycare, Gil standing behind.

Ray, at home, spends most of his time lying down, and suffers from lots of physical ailments, including diabetes. In fact, this was the one of the running themes of my visit. All of us are, obviously, aging, and many of us beginning to show it, big time. Besides my tremor, Nancy is in pain all over, says she’s about to visit a specialist, and Gil worries about my son Sean and grandson Drew doing so much intense rowing; says he tried it for one semester in college, and it hurt his back. And that it still hurts! He’s 42. Then, yesterday evening, during dinner at Sue’s with old friends Rose and Dan, Rose, 62, who has had a bad left knee for years, from years of intense snowboarding, she says, on her final ski run last March of a two-week vacation on western mountain slopes, broke her pelvis, also on the left side, and five weeks ago, finally had that knee replaced. She still walks with a pronounced limp. “I never appreciated how being handicapped affects you until I became handicapped!” Amen!

Our own bodies teach us compassion for others.

Yesterday, I got pics of Ray and Nancy and Gil’s wonderful place, full of light, and as Nancy says, with great appreciation, “We have sunsets every evening!” Here’s yesterday’s sunset view from her sliding door to the porch and beyond.

All that afternoon light helps her indoor gardenia to thrive in winter! I smelled one of the open blossoms. Heavenly! And there are many more, set to open.

Before we went up there I was concerned lest all this ongoing care for Ray had taken the spirit out of Gil and Nancy. Not so! And both are very appreciative of not only their beautiful environment, but for all the help they receive from others. The daycare people; the woman who comes in at 4 p.m. to give Ray his meds, and whose husband Nancy once dated way back when; the once a month cleaners, and so on. Nancy says she has a group of female friends, all of whom care for old ailing husbands, and get together for an exercise program once a week.

And, Gil says, two months ago, I started delivering for Meals-On-Wheels, and when I see all these old people with no one, isolated in their homes, it puts my petty annoyances at living with my folks again into perspective. In fact handsome, charismatic Gil, who originally went out to L.A. full of dreams to become an actor and ended up as an investment banker, says that probably the work he should do now is to become an activities director for a retirement home. Perfect for this beautiful, flamboyant gay man who has always entertained us from the time he was young, and is loved wherever he goes.

At one point Gil asked Sue to please french braid the long hair of his modified mohawk and put it in a topknot. Here they are, complete with plate of cookies Nancy has just extended . . .

Here’s Nancy preparing fruit for us after our long, sunny breezy, walk on nearby Crane Beach. and uphill to the Crane Estate, near Ipswich. (Sorry, didn’t bring my phone for pics.) If your toilet says Crane, that’s this family, which brought plumbing to the U.S.A. BTW: nearby is the Maritime Museum, which memorializes, Nancy says, the only factory in the world that built two masted schooners to navigate the high seas.

Kiera at Nancy’s:

 

Back in Acton after a 90 minute drive home, Rose brought old pics with her to dinner last night, including this one, of Sue, Sean, and baby Kiera, on vacation in Oregon.

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With Grandkids, 1/7/2020: Woods and OPENING SPACE!

Saturn now exact conjunction with Pluto to the degree: 22° Capricorn. Still a few minutes away from exactness, on January 12, at 22° 41.  On our hike today, I told 19-year-old Kiera about the Saturn/Pluto drama, and how her project, to clean up the table that has been sitting there, gathering detritus from her various art projects from the time she was five years old, fits into that drama. The awful state of the table and its surroundings: Saturn, stuck. Clearing it: Pluto, releasing the energy that has been unable to emerge.

Since  the mess has been sitting there for 14-15 years years, it corresponds to a half a Saturn cycle! Wouldn’t you know, she would clean it now. “Yes,” she said. “I wanted to clean it before, but I wasn’t able to throw anything out yet.”

Yesterday, when her Dad Sean walked down the stairs to see what progress we had already made, he was obviously delighted, something his normally taciturn self does not usually display! Almost immediately, he said, “Now maybe I’ll move my office in here!” Yes. It’s yours now, Dad.

Here are a few from todays walk, again in a nearby conservation district. There are many in this part of Massachusetts, each only minutes way, all with walking paths.

And here are photos from day two of our project. BTW: we are so committed to complete the clean-up of her stuff from all public areas of Sean’s house that I decided we would forgo any trip into Boston to look at permaculture projects. This is, simply, the priority, and we only have a few more days before we both fly out.

The way we do it: she goes through all the stuff first, throwing out what she doesn’t want to keep, and I separate that stuff into donations, recycling (plastics, paper), and trash. We’ve become quite a team. “I’m putting everything that I wonder whether or not I actually want to keep it on the table top, and will tackle that last.” Good plan. So:

Day two, with dog:

Bending over table:

A few things she decided not to keep but I love:

Partially destroyed toilet paper doll:

Christmas ornament:

Early horse, with her mother’s writing of Kiera’s story. Notice the child above the horse. She tells me she never did draw a horizontal line to indicate the ground. In other words, she says, she never did reduce her drawings to 2D.

Horse, when her talent had developed further:

Tiny basket, with fork to show size:

 

Felt cover for phone:

Wooden stove, covered with tin foil:

Fishing box, made entirely of duct tape! “I had a fishing pole too, made out of a broom. But I never caught any fish, because it meant I’d have to take the hook out of its mouth.”

Table top time!

“Hey Grannie Annie.” Next Christmas we’ll have to tackle my room!”

Interesting that for me, the Saturn/Pluto conjunction is occurring exactly opposite my Jupiter in Cancer: family. Yes. Let’s unleash the enormous life inside us all.

 

 

 

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With Grandkids, 1/5/2020: Tubing, Movie, Icy Walk and Clean-Up

The ski day Sean and the kids had planned gave way to something closer to home. Tubing. I decided to go along. Made it three times down that icy slope and quit. Too hard on these old bones, all the bumping and stretching to keep my butt off the bottom where it would be pummeled and possibly break my tail bone!

I walked around instead while they continued for a few more runs. But I must admit, the entire endeavor felt to me pointless and painful. No real learning involved. Just a brief adrenalin rush. Maybe 30 seconds per run? “Like a roller coaster,” said Drew. Exactly. Don’t see the point of it either. Never did.

I can understand inner tubing down a nearby hill, and did so, as a kid. But commercial tubing, at $35 for three hours per person? Give me a break! No, don’t give me a break! The reason I stopped early is I noticed my body feeling weak and vulnerable after only three runs.

Then the movie. Little Women, which the three of us enjoyed (Drew got to go to another movie) except for the editing. Why do they cut back and forth in time like that? Not necessary to advance the storyline, and puts the audience through contortions just wondering which era we’re in at any point in the movie. Dumb.

(And then, I must admit, I found myself wondering which of the actors are or have been pedos. Especially wondered about the kids in the movie. Have they been trafficked to Hollywood big wigs? P,S. check out Ricky Gervais at the Golden Globes. He outed Hollywood, and the squirming in the audience was palpable. And note the perp walk by Harvey Weinstein today. They scapegoat him, when there are likely hundreds just like him.)

Last night, dinner at Sue’s with kids and partner Kurt. That’s when I found out that Boston has now the worst traffic jams in the U.S. during weekdays. Kurt drove two and a half hours the other day just to go 20 miles. . .

So Kiera and I decided to change plans. Instead of trying to go into Boston four days to visit permaculture sites, we decided do that one day and hike in various wild places the other days. Plus, clean up the mess she left on her art table in Sean’s dining room area, a mess that has been hunkering and proliferating since she was five years old!

And when we do go, we’ll take the train into the city. Probably tomorrow. Not sure yet. Will visit old friend Nancy on Wednesday with Sue driving with us the hour north to Essex.

The walk we took today, on forested paths, was mostly icy. Even young, fit Kiera found it slippery. My 77-year-old bones did not like it. So we ended up walking the back roads.

Here’s a few shots in the middle of the clean-up. Amazing, how long that mess has stood there, like a gigantic pile of shit in the middle of the house, between the kitchen and the dining room. There’s no way to avoid it. The sight has made me sick for years.

And yet I remember what it documents, the detritus from her intense creativity, pouring out of her since she was a tiny child. Even a 19-year-old can look back through time quite a ways, when faced with treasured and forgotten relics of her past.

 

 

 

Notice, in the second shot, that the floor under the table is now cleaned up.

But what is this? Some kind of abandoned project. Intensely weird.

Tonight, out to dinner at a farm to table Mexican restaurant alone with Sue.

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With Grandkids, 1/3-4/2020: MK Ultra Survivor Cathy O’Brien’s Vision 2020 — and Bill Hicks!

The first evening I was here in Boston, Sean, Drew and I had a political conversation over dinner. It turns out that Drew has a Political Science class as a Junior in high school, and they all debate the events of the day. I asked him if he’s ever heard about how pedophilia has infected society. Conversation stopped. I went on a rant — the CIA, Project Paperclip, mind control, MK Ultra, ending up with asking him to investigate, as I always do, by starting with Fred Burks section on mind control in his wanttoknow.info site, and then Cathy O’Brien’s book (and pdf), Trance Formation of America,

I decided later to go to Cathy’s website, and look at her Vision 2020: Love the perspective of this MK Ultra mind controlled sex slave trafficked to both the White House and the Pentagon during the Reagan years. I then scrolled through other blogposts of hers, and was especially interested in her view of Ronald Reagan.

In our political conversation, Drew remembered that I had talked about “mind control” when he and granddaughter Kiera visited me in Bloomington, in summer of 2018. But his class had not discussed it. Will he now bring it to that table? He did say that his teacher doesn’t think Trump wants war, given what he’s said and done so far.

Then, last night, waiting for dinner, this time with Kiera present, we got into the subject of Bill Hicks. Kiera noticed the little “meditating ET” button on my purse, but not the equally tiny Bill Hicks button that my housemate Dan made for me. I told them about the day I was at the post office and laid my purse on the counter to put just-bought stamps on envelopes. The clerk, a middle-aged, greasy-haired woman, noticed the Hicks button and said, “Is that Bill Hicks?” “Yes,” I responded, looking her in the eye. For one long meaningful minute the two of us stared at each other, entranced by our common (and hidden) perspective on life.

As I told that story, right then and there, I plunked my ipad on the kitchen counter and played Bill Hicks most famous rant, Life is Just A Ride, for them, with Sean preparing dinner in the background.

At the end, Drew asks, “Is he Democrat or Republican?” “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, from Hick’s larger perspective, they are two sides of one coin.”

Drew, always thoughtful, and with a very subtle and probing mind, was caught by surprise; then he asked, how we can always just “choose between love and fear?” Says that “while it’s a good idea, it’s not realistic.” More food for thought for that Political Science whiz.

And, hearkening back to architectural student Kiera’s next semester class on “Design in Space,” will she see Hick’s final words, that “we can explore space, both outer and inner,” as meaningful?

I’m deeply impressed by at least these two post-millennial generation members’ capacity to remain sane, centered, and balanced, while beginning to investigate and respond to realms of which I am only dimly aware. So grateful to be their Grannie Annie!

 

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