August 8th, with the moon trine the sun and square Jupiter, the heroes, great fools and magicians tread the path marked by lines of fire on parallel tracks, their desire for realization triumphing over the sweat on their brows.
Urgency is strong, and burns. Sometimes we feel the burn of inner vitality; other times the burn of touching a hot oven rack without a mitten. It’s unclear and topsy-turvy, the degree and quality of today’s burn.
Time unfolds as a slinky or accordion, constellating shaky levels for the ambling quester to climb and overcome—in fact, this sloppy self-extending phantasm of time-as-instrument has been around for awhile now and is now exposing itself in the guise of a demand for discipline.
The burning and burned hero steps, falls and trips, licking those oven-burns and revisiting their internal sacred fire when hitting rock-bottom.
It’s possible that urgency can slow down just enough to support the simplicity needed for focus, and that the mask of self-discipline can be stripped away to reveal the phantom accordion of Time’s multifaceted lies, so that desire can radiate out of our centers, and discipline can emerge from the foundation deeper and more vast than slippery extensions.
We can laugh about the trip over our urgency, check in with our desires and relax.