Feels funky at first, but those butterfly wings you've grown can fly you to the furthest reaches of the Cosmos. Your expanded antennae will bring your awareness to the gnosis that you are and will always be a shining pillar of light. And you always have been, even when space felt so cold and dark. Please don't spend your energy flapping away at the other cocoons. Those 'pillars will hatch when the time is right.
As the moon danced from the healing dreamworld of Pisces into the Aires world of the warrior this weekend, I found myself reflecting on the cusp where those signs embrace: the very beginning of the wheel of life, the very ending, and the beginning of next, intimately woven as a single stich in the fabric. Alchemy, transmutation, the hatching of the butterfly.
Pisces and Aires are both devoted givers. Spiritual Pisces swims the waters of a new way and empathically gives this expanded vison to the emotional healing of every soul they encounter. The bodhisattva reaches enlightenment, but choses to stick around to assist others in finding theirs.
The Ram serves in an entirely different fashion. You might have been told Aires best serves themselves; that they are inherently selfish and always put themselves first. Fiddlesticks! Yes, the warrior receives the largest cut of meat, but such is gladly given by the tribe for it is in thier best interest to keep their protector strong. Aires is the mother bear who guards the cub and the warrior must learn to put themselves first in order to be of better service to others. Your friendly flight attendant is here to remind you to secure your own oxygen mask before assisting your little ones.
I read an article recently that accosted the American majority for favoring our government's invasion of their privacy. The writer accused the "sleeping sheeple" of being "pansies" for sacrificing their sovereignty to the fear of being killed in a tear-ist act, which statistics show to be less likely than winning the lottery. I lost the validity of his case in the violence of his language. Nobody wants to wake up to the screaming of the alarm clock and calling our brothers and sisters "pansies" sure sounds like a lot of "beep beep beep" to me.
It is an absolute blessing that we've hatched, but the butterfly is not our final form and furthering our own growth to prepare for our next transmutation is of much higher service than running around town yelling, "wake the fook up!" from the spiritual soap box. Brighten your pillar until its radiance stokes the flames of every soul you encounter without a word.
And please remember that the mother bear protects, not only with claws, but also with cuddles. Mute the alarm clock and safely guard their rest. Let the beautiful beings you're calling sheep enjoy their sleep. Let them count some sheep and dream the most beautiful dream. Perhaps they are seeing the visions that will release us from this shared surreal state just as soon as deep rest has fed their strength and they are ready to arise. Who knows? Maybe they're dreaming of butterflies and pansies, which I personally find to be quite beautiful.
As the Ram watches over the Fish,