September 13th, with the moon conjunct venus in leo, heaps of sugar and dense sweets pile up in our creatively eager constitutions, exploiting our granulated addiction to attention. We’re rushed into a seedy cave looking for glamour, and see sweets everywhere. At first the only thing we’re aware of besides the desire to nurse the milky pleasures that, through puckering up for suckling, stoke the flames of our unique fire, is the simmering self-righteousness underneath it all.
Former presidents and prime ministers lounge down there in that den looking for comebacks and retribution, pouring bags of candy and pastries onto themselves while fighting about who has been disloyal to their magnificence. Full of sweet sore throats we are, for intertwined are the saccharin, sentimental celebration of the individual and the petty ego-fighting.
It takes an elf with clunky feet suspended upside down in the air, with cane sugar flying out of their limbs in both directions, to show how this road of excess has led to the palace of wisdom, prompting our heart bodies to move it all out, flush the toxins away, and sit in the silent cave in loving awe of each other’s uniqueness.