Who is guiding you?

Bee person crossing the street holding a sunflower, photo by the author

This cannot be found in your natal chart. Or a dissection of your brain. When you place your hand upon your heart, you might hear a name. Or you might simply feel the steady thrum, your own particular rhythm. 

Who is guiding you? We talk about guides. We can name them. They are immaterial. Like our childhood imaginary friends. This does not mean they are not real. We know reality is not equivalent to materiality. Our consciousness extends beyond Saturn. 

And yet, there are limits to what we can know. Maybe the problem is that we are stuck on knowing. We are stuck on consciousness. 

It seems consciousness is the new love. It is the concept we assign to so many things. Because we do not yet have the words. Consciousness seems to include that of which we are aware and that which moves through us whether we are aware or not. How can it be both?

This post is going beyond meaning. I am not trying to make sense. I am interested in that which does not make sense until later. Which does not mean that things do not make sense. We are limited in what we can know in any given moment. 

This is why we turn to dreams or tarot or runes or astrology or music or art or poetry or spirituality. We are reaching for the meaning that is just beyond our grasp. Whether that is in the future or the past. Because we have experienced the times when it does make sense—the aha moment or the synchroncity. We want more of that. We want to live in those moments. 

We come back to our physical senses. We get the news that a friend has died. We make food for another friend recovering from surgery. We fear the federal agents coming for our children. The innocents among us. The most innocent are threatened. We want to know why. We grasp for meaning. Nothing seems to make sense. In our most painful moments, we are forsaken. 

Unless or until, we recall our own innocence. When we left a window open just in case our imaginary friend needed to get in. When we spoke to the birds and the trees and the mountains knowing in our hearts that they spoke back. 

In those moments, we had not been fully conditioned. We still believed. Even more, we knew. What was real was our own experience. 

It is not that we have been forsaken. It is that we have forsaken ourselves. We wanted to grow up because we thought that would make us free. Instead, we faced the ultimate conformity. 

What do we do now? In this world we have created? We cannot escape or avert our eyes. Everything that exists is you and me. What about all that does not exist? What about all that we can imagine? How do we bring that into being? Who are our guides? Who is guiding you? How can you be most you? 

Is there a clue in astrology? I believe there is. I believe your natal chart is a set of clues that when put together forms the mystery that is you. Can you solve the mystery? Not while you are living. This is what we need to accept. There is no escape room. You are your own guide. You are the living mystery.