Into the silence.
Interior views.
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I’ve been intensively meditating this month, more than I ever cared to do. I love it (even if my hips don’t — they’ll adjust.)
Sometimes I talk to my future self (Raven a year from now) right as I drift to sleep. A few months ago she said, Meditation is going to become very important to you.
She was right.
Aquarius brought disturbing dreams of planes crashing in the sky. Then planes began crashing in the sky. Pisces brings the opportunity to disappear into the silence. Well, I can do that anytime — but the invitation during these last months of winter is one I can’t resist.
Silence keeps me sane.
I can’t stop prescient dreams — yet they often make me feel helpless. Like, what’s the point? They arrive and that’s how it goes. I’ve often said that being psychic is no big deal — it’s our natural state — and this particular time of year I am extra sensitive. Extra great for my clients! :)
This requires lots of self-care. Lots of bread. Soup. Cheesy eggs. Lots of warm tea. Lots of silence.
I’m also in a creative lull at the moment, since completing my novel I Was Once A Person and don’t have any projects that press. Feels a bit like emptiness — but not in a distressing way. More like — waiting with radar up.
Enter the silence.
Meditation has stripped away much of the entertainment I once enjoyed.
Movies I rarely watch anymore and find most of them tedious, if not outright AI/fake. YT still has entertaining creators/storytellers but even then, I find myself clicking off 1/2 way through. Many books I return to Amazon before finishing the plot. The most consistent teaching right now are dharma talks from a renunciate Buddhist monk who walked away from a “successful” life and now has “nothing” (at least in terms of Western materialism). I find his story fascinating and quite courageous in the modern world, as he spends much of his day meditating.
What compels someone to leave it all behind?
Silence. Enlightenment. Liberation from samsara.
I’ve lived here a long time. Many, many lifetimes. And still I search for something deeper.
It’s not found in any religion. Been there, done that. It’s not money or materialism — and hey, I’m all for pleasure and appreciation of beautiful things. They don’t last — we don’t last — but why not enjoy for the time we have? It’s all borrowed, anyway. Borrowed bodies, borrowed time, borrowed things.
Pisces draws me deeper into the waters. Lord knows, I could NOT be a Pisces all the time — no wonder they struggle to make sense of this particular reality. Yet I’ve discovered when I sit — I’m like a cat, following the sun around the house — I get used to sitting still. Eyes closed or open, legs bent or not — I want to sit. Oh, there’s still the Let’s go somewhere else, go out to eat, move somewhere else, drive around, call that person, waste time on the computer, go somewhere else, somewhere better/warmer/funner/gayer/interesting — and I still I sit.
I’ve lived in several states. All kinds of environments and structures. I’ve travelled and searched. I’ve packed my bags and car more times than most; running, excited, anxious — looking for home.
There is nowhere else. No person, place, thing. Wherever I go, there I am. The greatest, most frustrating lesson. There with my happiness and disenchantment. There with my beautiful self that craves and craves.
I am the home I need.
As I often like to say, Just me, with me.
It’s kinda bizarre to think that through me — this very being — I am either the source of suffering or ultimate freedom from suffering.
Just here — me with me.
Carry on, Pisces.
