wikiart.org public domain

Brave New Earth

http://commons.wikimedia.org/

Sometimes I see unfathomable beauty while dreaming. Other times I capture it digitally on my phone. I used to see it often while visiting museums or going to places like Longwood Gardens. And occasionally, I find it on TV or film. The city depicted in the new TV series Brave New World was unfathomably beautiful until it wasn’t.

When the new Peacock streaming platform announced the launching of Brave New World, I was more than excited, I was held in a state of anticipation. I was held for a few months until it aired on July 15th. Based on the 1931 novel by Aldous Huxley  ( during a Saturn Pluto opposition), the story asks what happens when an outsider is brought into a contained technologically – controlled society that stresses conformity, frowns on monogamy, forbids procreation, and manages emotional fluctuation with designer drugs.

I must admit I rather liked the idea of living in the utopian New London during the first couple of episodes. Everyone seemed happy and happiness is highly valued. No one got ill, everyone had a job they loved, and every night was a party. I quickly realized I would only be happy if I was designated an Alpha or a Beta. This concept reminds me of my high school, where each student was assigned an academic track. Maybe this arrangement started earlier, but I don’t think I was aware until entering high school. I was in the A track, meaning I took the most difficult classes with the smartest students. Maybe this was decided by test scores, it was never explained or discussed with me. I did belong there, mostly. I performed miserably in Biology, and was relegated to B track for Science classes going forward. I enjoyed meeting new friends in B Chemistry and actually learned more there. However, I cannot see myself being happy as someone considered “average” or less than. I was raised to be studious and intelligence was how I was recognized.  It was “my thing”, said my ego. With higher ranking there is more privilege in New London, but freedom does not exist.  Embryos are designed to be different as each subtype is needed for the greater functioning of the whole. We naturally have diversity within our species, but we lack equality and basic living standards in this “modern” world of 2020 AD. To say this is problematic is to state the obvious.

wikiart.org pub domain

Upon completion of Season 1, I was eager to reread the novel. Fairly certain I had a copy at home, I found one hidden away with some other Sci-Fi classics such as 1984 and Walden 2. While perusing the forward of the 1946 edition, the author concludes that world totalitarianism is imminent, it is just a matter of when and in what form. The story was set in the 2500s. However, Huxley reveals that this was inaccurate and that a fascist state is most likely to happen in the early 21st century.

And here we are….

Images courtesy of wikiart.org and wikipedia.com, public domain

How Am I Doing? ~ Mercury Direct Neptune Retro Wayward Pines Edition

I stumbled upon this post while searching my archives for Neptunian material. With Chiron at the tail end of Pisces and  Mercury conjunct Neptune in Pisces this is truly a time for profound healing and kissing the familiar goodbye. Cry, dream, create, sleep, pray,  play music, imagine with abandon, meditate, make love, let go and let God.

blessings, litebeing

litebeing chronicles

Photo607I could be grocery shopping right now. But I am here with AC blazing on a Friday afternoon. We are having a heat wave and this new development took me by surprise. Everyone has been talking about the intense Mercury Neptune energy. Honestly for me it is like a regular day at the office ( when I actually went to an office.) Translation: I have Neptune Sun Mercury conjunct in Scorpio ( a stellium) so my mind naturally rides the waves of hyper-imagination, empathy, fantasy, and susceptibility to deception or illusion.

Having said that, I still am taking life slowly and simply for a few more days, focusing more on the inner journey and escapism entertainment. I am really enjoying this new Fox show Wayward Pines. I will not give away the plot twist but will say how wonderful it is to see Matt Dillon back on-screen and…

View original post 474 more words

Glove Story

I have been spending the past few weeks honing my creative therapy skills by helping my clients dive into their emotional landscapes via music, visual arts, and writing.  This is not particularly new. I have used these modalities many times in my work as a therapist. But as a therapist who is now an active writer, this endeavor has taken some new turns.

The more I delve into my clients’ lives, the more I question my own. The mirroring that I observe is both miraculous and ordinary. If you visit here often, you know that the miraculous and ordinary usually represent the same experience for me. For example, I have a new client who I was told can be difficult to connect with. I have not seen her through that lens. We engaged in some small talk initially, which led to her revelation about art. She repeatedly said that she is not good at art, but she loves viewing it and learning about it. ”  I don’t know why I love art, I just do!” We have connected so easily because of our shared love of art. I quickly noticed that I say the same thing to others: that I am not good at art, but am a huge fan of the craft. I realize that repeating that statement undermines my delight in making art and enjoying my process. Note to Self: Halt the judgement.

I use these creative modalities in order to help others access their emotional worlds and enhance their communication skills. This emphasis on self-expression has led me to analyze further my own unique process. What is driving me? Why do I need to write? Am I incomplete in some way until I release my essence on the written page? Reading Michael’s excellent offering yesterday inspired me further to conjure up a little something for you today. The Universe never fails in complementing my inner musings with outer evidence.

So let me share a small Glove Story with you:

I used to lose my wallet repeatedly or have it stolen. This happened in both dreamtime and while awake. I figured this had to do with a weak identity. When my wallet stopped being stolen or lost, I decided the identity misgivings were resolved. I also have lost many keys in both realms, tying this into mastery and autonomy. This association works for me. Earrings also go missing, leaving me with several solo earrings in my jewelry box. This seems less symbolic and more aerodynamic. Earrings fall off or get caught on things and slip away to earringland.

But then there’s the gloves….

steve-madden-colorblock-boyfriend-touch-gloves

I bought these oh-so-sweet gloves a few months ago. They dazzle with so many of my favorite colors, purple, gray, maroon, etc. They work so well with my plum jacket and black shawl. They are soft and warm and cozy. I have lost one glove at least three times since I first wore them. And every time I was able to retrace my steps and find the stray – until now. Tuesday night I discovered that one of the gloves was not in my jacket pocket. I was at a diner and began to search half of the entire diner, then my car, my office the next day ….  Nada.

Then I begin combing the office parking lot and the cafeteria where I ate on Tuesday. I also scaled the campus between said parking lot and cafeteria by car and foot. I discovered other sole ( soul)  gloves, but not mine. I even went back to the bathroom stall in aforementioned cafeteria. I later returned to the diner on Wednesday, again asking the same questions and receiving the same answers. Today I went back yet again to the lost and found. I even searched online to see if I could buy a new pair. They are all sold out. I called the store where I bought it and contacted the manufacturer. I also prayed for guidance.

I want my glove back. I do not know why I am so obsessed. I have other gloves that are nice. But they are not enough somehow. I told myself in a few weeks it will be much warmer ( heck it’s spring-like now!) and I will not need to wear gloves. I realize this is a frivolous, high-class problem. But something deeper lurks. Something is stirring within that leaves me sad and unsettled.

Maybe it would be different if I had made peace with my father before he died, or if I could have caught Dexter’s heart problem before it took his life, or if I remained in one neighborhood and school for my entire childhood, or if I was taught that I was always enough simply because IAM. But I wasn’t taught and it is not different.

This Glove Story has no ending. In fact, it has only begun to brew, like a fresh teabag covered in tepid water.

Right place, wrong time?

wikiart.org pub domain

Lately I have been thinking about the origins of thoughts and ideas. Does the brain recognize and record impulses from collective consciousness or the Divine Mind? Is there really a difference between human/ego thoughts and spiritual knowing? When I say this idea came from me, what does that really mean?

I do not plan to solve this conundrum now. It is merely a prelude to today’s post about two subjects perfect for Mercury retrograde in Aquarius: society and memories.

It continually amazes me how certain childhood memories have such strong significance decades later in life. Here is one that is ready to leave the draft folder and make its debut.

When I was 10 years old we moved to New Britain, Connecticut. It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever been to in the United States, at that point in my life. Our apartment was an end unit and had three levels so it was closer to an actual house. This was a first for me, having lived only in apartments. The buildings were indicative of Shingle style architecture and were quite lovely. We lived in a rather undeveloped, highly wooded area and there was a brook in the backyard. Most of the complex was still under construction.  I could not find an acceptable image of the area but the painting above provides a similar flavor.

I met a neighbor boy from my apartment complex and we took a long walk on the property. He was older and had dark hair. He was not a classmate and frankly I have no clue how we met or why were together. All I know is that this memory has remained ” on the front burner” throughout my life. We talked about subjects that were foreign but fascinating. The most intriguing idea he discussed was bartering. He told me there was a time when we did not have actual money and a totally different system of exchange was in place. As we moved through the woods immersed in nature, I tried to visualize this novel way of living. My mind was flooded with such exciting information. It was so exotic and sophisticated. To me the notion seemed futuristic.

As I reflect on the 21st century society I find myself in, I keep asking myself if the past was in many ways so much more progressive than the present? I also wonder if my love for my Connecticut home led me to live near the edge of the woods as an adult? Such magical notions arise in me when in nature. Some of my best conversations happen in the natural world.  Who was this boy and why was he interested in talking to this young girl? I will probably never know, but I believe the barter system is making a comeback and will eventually replace our current system.

My mother repeatedly told me I was born too late. She meant I should have been born early enough to have been a hippie. Sometimes I think I would have preferred to have been part of a self-contained society where life was simple, natural, and rich with authenticity and meaning.

Are we heading in that direction?

 related posts: https://litebeing.com/2014/04/11/spin-the-wheel-of-time-update/

https://litebeing.com/2014/03/25/tuesdays-hodgepodge/

image credit: wikiart.org, public domain