After years of wondering what I will do with this place, it finally occurred to me-why not do what I tried to do elsewhere? On another blog of mine, I tried to create a private discussion place for supporters of Hillary Clinton. After fighting endlessly with memberships and logins, I deleted the whole thing. But here, there can be a discussion without all of the signups and forum features. And Michelle? Michelle needs her own place too, so I’m combining the two, partly so I can catch up with everything and learn more.
It’s been a week, I know….I’ve been busy getting started in school and trying to manage the rest of my life. Well, I’m in, and the rest of my life is being managed. So what do you think about that eclipse? Bin Laden came and went: indeed the most prominent thing was apparently Petraeus. September 11 was practically overshadowed by the hearings.
Which means we have absorbed the event and put it in the past and are ready to deal with the consequences. The officials were overshadowed by a lot of people’s observances. But even those didn’t seem to have the emotional punch that previous September 11ths have had. Was it the fear of an attack being repeated, or simply that we wanted to commemorate the dead and move on? Or did the Bin Laden tape create so much ridicule that we were less scared?
Favorite coffee: latte with cinnamon (decaf). Yes, I like Starbucks. But then I grew up with instant coffee, i.e Sanka. So real coffee would be an improvement-any real coffee. Biscotti’s not bad either. A combination of the two have kept me awake for many a temp assignment that started at say, 7am or 8am.
Next post for astrology……
On a clear, cool September morning six years ago, the Sun’s rays lit up two towers hundreds of feet tall. They were mirrors that reflected the morning sun, tall sheets of mirrored sun and sky, reflected rays bouncing off the sidewalk below. One spot a fully lit shaft of light, the space next to it cool and shadowy. On the top of each tower you could look for miles over the river and almost hear the waves hundreds of feet below. At your feet, birds, eager for the first morning crumbs of bread, and the earliest waking insects, squawk and pick and strut, scrambling for the bit of breakfast that would soon disappear under the horde of later-comers. The early breeze sends a cold chill around the shoulders and neck. It’s just about always cool up here, close to the sky and far from the street. It’s only hot at noon, and even then, not as hot as the pavement below. Soon they will disperse, perhaps hearing with ears more sensitive than ours, a bigger louder bird coming. They lift off to smaller places where the food is more plentiful: the parks, the streets, the sidewalks. Behind you, you can almost hear the clatter of plates, and below, the noise and traffic.
In a few hours, all dust and ashes and smoke and memories.
Now six years later, we shiver again at the still raw, shadowed memories of that day of inexplicable horror. Even if it were 100 degrees on the morning of September 11, 2007, we would feel the chill, as if the ghosts of 3000 unavenged dead rose from the concrete around the still empty site and became visible.
And we now see that there is an eclipse on the Sun of that horrible day, and wonder what will become of us now. Shrub has picked at the wound of our collective horror and fear, waving the corpses around like a talisman that would ward off criticism. The dead are not dead in his world, they are the convenient boogeymen to guilt and shame us into compliance. He cries not a tear at the losses, cares not a whit about their families. Guiliani dances too on top of the graves of the inconvenient dead. Like a widow who shames her children with the image of their dead father to get them to give up their dreams of independence to stay with her, they forge the chains of guilt and loss to get their way.
Osama has shown up a few days early (are we really sure it’s him anymore) to taunt-not us: but his old childhood friend Bush. It is to say to him: you are not the man your father was, or I am. We are but spectators in this giant psychodrama, good only for bit parts. In Osama, he gambles on an empire that would redeem him. But nobody in the real world wants that, least of all the people who have dreams of their own of independence. For Bush, he dreams of the opposite: reclaiming the Middle East like the Crusaders. Both dreams, dreams of the past reborn-a past that everyone else has rejected so long ago.
Besides the eclipse, what else is going on astrologically at the errily appropriate time of 8:45 am edt compared to six years ago?
Neptune inconjuncts Venus and Sun-Neptune/Sun suggests we are still not quite getting the whole story about what happened, we are trying to deceive others or ourselves about what is happening to this event. Venus/Neptune we still are not quite sure about
Chiron/Jupiter inconjunct: Chiron represents the wounds of the event that need to be healed, but the attempt to heal through money has led to its own tension that is unresolved. Benefits from the attack have been misdirected
Saturn trine Mars: Finally some constructive action will be taken today regarding 911-perhaps some mention of rebuilding the towers.
Uranus trine Midheaven: Liberation of the public perception of the event-independently seeking meaning and control over it.
With the passing of Beverly Sills and Pavarotti, a great deal of my childhood has gone too. The grade school memories of field trips to the opera and to the symphony are so dear to me, a kid who’s only other exposure to classical music was those “Merry Melodies” cartoons. Those cartoons, and Leonard Bernstein, Paul Robeson, Sutherland, Marion Anderson, Leontyne Price introduced classical music to a whole generation of Boomer kids. Back then, classical music was for those rich enough to afford tickets and the fancy expensive clothes to go to the opera or symphony. My parents could hardly afford much more than movie tickets or the ice show: opera was beyond their wallets. But we were exposed to the fine arts thanks to these performers efforts and quite a few strong teachers who didn’t care where we came from, we were certainly capable of appreciating fine art. They were so unlike the stereotype of the aloof, high-strung, petty, arrogant opera diva or the snobby classical musician. They were down to earth enough to relate to a horde of curious kids who loved music no matter where it came from. They didn’t criticize rock or popular music, liked baseball as well as cricket, and could eat soul food with the regular folk-which also endeared us to them.
And now for my tribute:
Luciano Pavarotti Nessun Dorma (turandot) Torino 2006
His Last Public Performance.
I think he already knew he was dying (they say he was diagnosed later, but a man as attuned to his body as he was probably sensed it), and that this could be his last big performance. Now for the astrology:
Luciano Pavarotti was born October 12, 1935 in Modena, Italy where he also died on Wednesday morning, September 5, 2007. The transits I believe that freed him from suffering were Pluto inconjunct Pluto, Uranus inconjunct his Sun, and that Jupiter opposition Chiron (planet of the wounded healer). He was liberated, but not to this world.
Join me at 8:45 am EDT, September 11, 2007 for a peace meditation. Many can’t march, but marching without purpose does little anyway. One thing we know is that by lifting the consciousness of millions, minds and hearts can be changed. One of the things the internet does is make it possible for more people to join together in real time in mind though the process of communication.
Internet meditation does not require buildings, speakers, or even voice-though I may post something audio. Just a working browser and attunement to the higher power. And we can do so in whatever form our many spiritual and religious traditions may take.
I remember the first Harmonic Convergence back in 1986, when millions meditated for peace. Three years later the fall came down, and the great dread of nuclear war between the superpowers. But peace also meant that the old order and the new one passed with suprisingly little violence-compared to what many people feared would happen.
And I believe that all of the prayers for peace have long delayed the escalation of this war and have kept Americans from largely going at each other. I remember as a kid the rancor of the late 60’s, and we are nowhere near that, where whole generations began to battle each other over a wide front. The bitterness, while it did not delay the changes, lead to a reactionary swing back that allowed for a meaner, lessened sense of civic responsibility.