Thursday, July 2, 2020

A Critical Mass




I just watched one of those “Karen” videos from a suburban neighborhood in NJ. This white lady came out to harass the Black family across the street, who were adding a small stone patio to their house. She walked onto their property several times, accused them of building without a permit, and then called the cops.

So – typical, right?  She gets to use her white privilege to give them a hard time, and even to jeopardize their lives. What made this different was that a bunch of other neighbors came out of their houses to object. They had clearly been reading the newspapers, and now they were seeing an example of something they’d read about.  They weren’t happy that she wasn’t wearing a mask, either, and one person had to dodge away from her when she approached.

Later on, a few dozen neighbors, mostly white and all masked, marched in front of her house, chanting, “Hey hey, ho ho, your racist self has got to go!”

I think in the past, the neighbors would’ve ignored her antics, even if they disapproved. They would have seen her as the interfering neighborhood crackpot, basically harmless. But now they’re aware that she’s part of a pattern, and they also see that calling the police on Black people is not a neutral act. It’s active hostility, just like waving a loaded gun around.

So I do think that there’s been a change in awareness for the white people in this country, and it’s happened because of massive protesting, and because some people have been brave enough to shoot video. Police didn’t do themselves any favors when they attacked bystanders and journalists as well as protestors, when they beat up people who weren’t resisting in any way.

Of course, not everything is fixed.  In fact, nothing is fixed, not yet. The role of the police needs to be changed, to start with, and the Defund the Police movement is clarifying how this could happen. But the first step in any social justice movement is when the general public looks at something, and sees how horrible it is. Something has to happen to remove white people from their ignorance and inertia.

In the last century, this was the role occupied by writers like Harriet Jacobs, who described her torturous escape from slavery, and speakers like Sojourner Truth.  It was the role of the TV news people who filmed the war in Vietnam, and the vets who came home to protest. Now it’s those who whip out their camera phones at tense moments, and those who vividly describe the realities of their lives in essays that are passed from one computer to the next.   

Astrologically, June was a key month, with the Jupiter/Pluto conjunction exact once more. And so the wheel is turning, and power dynamics are shifting.

As a new consciousness moves through the land, people tear down the statues of long-dead slaveholders and traitors, and sometimes local governments follow suit. Just yesterday, a big crane came and hauled away Richmond’s statue of Stonewall Jackson, on Monument Avenue. A couple of days ago, Mississippi finally removed the Confederate symbol from their state flag, after a century of resisting pressure to do this.  

Meanwhile, the president looks weak and unsure. He rails against the vandalism of statues, and ignores the thousands of dead from Covid-19. Rumors are circulating that he will resign, and I could see this happening. The Jupiter/Pluto conjunction opposes his Saturn, while Neptune stations at the square of his sun and moon, so he is definitely beleaguered, hunkering down in the bunker of his own mind. He might prefer to make some kind of secret deal in which he gets immunity and a boatload of cash, rather than lose face on Election Day.

The Covid-19 pandemic emphasizes the pressures and stresses of this moment in history, as the number of cases peaks again. With Jupiter, Pluto and Saturn all so close to each other in stern, realistic Capricorn, lessons must be learned, or they will be re-taught – again and again, if necessary. People who didn’t take the virus seriously are now being schooled, but unfortunately, there are many others who had no choice but to risk their health. And there are more still who deal with food shortages or eviction, as the economy keeps slipping and sliding.

Through all of this, the fissures in our society get clearer and clearer. Autocratic leaders like the Chinese can point to our system as one that’s messy to the point of cruelty. While they err by trying to keep everyone organized and controlled, we err by providing no leadership at all, or even a cohesive program, and letting a lethal virus run wild. If a death toll is a report card, we are at the bottom of the grade, globally speaking.    

All through July, four outer planets are retrograde, and until July 12, Mercury is retrograde too. This gives us all a chance to examine ourselves: what we swore by, what we avoided, what terrified us, what empowered us, what we knew, what we ignored.  This takes a certain amount of humility, especially for flag-wavers, but we can only heal our fractured society if we face what we’ve been, and who we are now.  

Meanwhile, Mars, the planet of war, is moving through its own sign, Aries, and so everyone is a little angrier, impulsive and hot-headed than usual. This points to the danger of more international skirmishes, maybe as a distraction technique on the Trump level. Mars gets even more aggressive after mid-August, as it starts making hard aspects to the Jupiter/Saturn/Pluto grouping in Capricorn.

In July, there is a little light though, as Jupiter slowly retrogrades away from Pluto and makes the sextile to Neptune. Neptune is the planet of illusion, imagination, dreams, fantasies, and cosmic revelations. So people may take a little break, and get lost in their favorite escapist pastimes, whether that means soap operas, comic books or jigsaw puzzles.

But for some people, dreaming of a better world is their favorite escape from reality.  And often, those are the people who give the future its shape.   





Friday, May 29, 2020

The State of the Nation: George Floyd




This is a sorrowful time for the country, in so many ways. 100,000 people have died from the corona virus, a mass exodus of souls from our planet. But it’s a single death, the murder of George Floyd by a police officer, that has triggered a particular outcry. 

A virus doesn’t have a face, but Derek Chauvin does, and so everyone has seen his cool, bland expression, as he cut off George Floyd’s breath with a knee on his neck. Most of us have never seen a person committing murder, except on TV shows. And now it’s clear that they aren’t necessarily grimacing with rage. Probably more often than not, murderers just don’t care, as long as their hair is combed.   

I didn’t know George Floyd, but, looking at his natal chart – even a rough version, without the time of birth – I can get a sense of who he was.  He was born on December 21, 1960, a little over a month before my wife.  In his chart, there were Sagittarius, Capricorn and Aquarius elements, so I would describe him as a free spirit with a keen interest in other people, but also someone with a strong sense of responsibility. He had a Cancer/Capricorn opposition, showing tension between his sense of duty and his emotional needs. 

Capricorn is the most disciplined and responsible sign in the zodiac, and its archetypal images are the Old Man, the Crone, and the Mountain.  We are living in a crusty time, and that’s largely because of the current confluence of planets in Capricorn. This crust is made up of self-sufficiency, of toughness, of endurance. It’s designed to protect, but what is it protecting?

Capricorn’s opposite sign, Cancer, is vulnerable and emotional, and its archetypal image is the innocent child.  This innocent child exists in all of us, and we see it in each other. Unless this child is protected and nurtured, then that toughness is just a hard shell, a calcified status quo that sacrifices everything to the rules. 

The US chart also has a Capricorn/Cancer opposition.  On the one hand, there’s the basic conservatism, the emphasis on hierarchies, the flourishing businesses, the hard work. That’s the Capricorn side.  On the other, there’s all the overflowing sentiment and tender feelings of Cancer. Cancer gives strong sympathies, but when these interfere with business as usual, there is always some repression.   

In the wake of George Floyd’s death, emotions come flooding out.  People are mourning not just this death, but many other Black deaths, some of them children, going back years.  And that mourning comes on top of centuries spent dealing with various levels of social abuse, going back to the original trauma of kidnapping and slavery.  It’s all encapsulated too well in that image of Derek Chauvin with his knee on George Floyd’s neck. (The knees, by the way, are ruled by Capricorn.)  

We’ve built a constrictive society here in the US, starting with the genocide of the indigenous people.  We’ve cut off the airways of too many people on this land, so that others could move more freely through corridors of power. 

At the moment, we’re all feeling the limitations of this pandemic.  Nature makes its own demands on us, and it bears down harder on non-white people, and all those who are othered by society. It would seem that we white people – and all those with privilege - could use this to understand how it feels to be hemmed in, limited, unfree.  But for that to happen, we have to tear down some of those barriers and recognize the pain of other people. 

And when it comes to the pandemic, rising numbers are likely throughout June. Late in the month, Jupiter and Pluto come together for the second time in Capricorn, and that could signal an important milestone.  

And although we’re all weary of counting the abuses of power coming from this administration, we may also see more of this. Media and communication outlets are particular targets, since Jupiter/Pluto is opposing Mercury in Cancer in the US chart.  We’re already seeing this in Twitter’s decision to flag some of Trump's false or inflammatory posts, and his threatening response to this.

But whatever he does, communication will become sharper, more acerbic, more truthful. More and more people are using well-pointed words to take on powerful interests. Of course, there are a lot of ways to communicate, and images of a police station in flames send a definite message too.  

At the same time, people are learning from history.  Mercury in Cancer slows down this month, and then goes retrograde about halfway through June, and that focuses people’s attention on the past. Many folks will be spending extra time with their ghosts, each one a whole vanished world, and these ghosts may have their own messages to convey.

For us all to get through this, we will need to nurture ourselves and each other. Some people will need to escape, and all of you should do whatever you need to do. But be careful, since Mercury in Cancer, especially retrograde and without any aspect activity, is a day-drinking kind of influence. If you’re hurting, find a non-judgmental aunt, or an old roommate, and reach out to her instead.   

As a nation, this is a time when the basic intellectual scaffolding is being torn down and redone, but this is a slow process. What we believe, what we see, what we acknowledge – all that is changing. People are telling their stories, and listening to the stories of others.  There is mourning in all these memories, but we are also blessed by the love we share. Rest in peace, George Floyd. 




Thursday, April 30, 2020

Faces on Zoom

It’s raining outside, which means no Sunshine Break this afternoon.  Since my wife is also working from home, we’ve been meeting on the front lawn with folding canvas chairs and cans of fizzy water, usually in the late afternoon.   

But it’s been a while now, because it’s been raining every day. The ground outside is squishy. The grass is getting long and wild. We’ve been sheltering in the house for a month, and in that time, the bare bones of trees have all sprouted new leaves, growing lusher every day. So the window is a picture which tells me nothing, a sheen of shiny dots on a solid green background.

This pandemic has been all about windows, for me.  I don’t know anybody who’s died from it, and I’m knocking on wood here. So, even though it’s all too real for thousands of people, it seems abstract to me.  From my window, the world is blurry, out of reach, slightly unreal.  

When I do have a social event these days, it’s on Zoom, and I’ve had a few of those, starting with services at my Unitarian church.  Then, not long ago, I was invited to a surprise Zoom 70th birthday party, involving old school-chums from Bangkok.  On the call were six women, all of whom I’ve known for around sixty years.  It was heady, seeing their faces in those little rectangles, each in her own little part of the world. 

After this, there was a second Zoom party for another old friend, and then a third event, a reading about women’s herstory, hosted by Sinister Wisdom magazine.  Both of these were full of women I’ve known for years, some of whom I hadn’t seen in decades. It was very emotional:  joy, nostalgia, a sense of reclaiming the past. I was shadowed by old feelings I scarcely remember, and I felt the sharpness of age.

But it’s strange, the Zoom phenomenon.  On the one hand, it shrinks time and space to one small flat surface. All these people, all this history, is right in front of you, living and breathing. All of you are staring fixedly into this portal which connects you. You can see and hear, but you can’t touch or smell, and you can only move within your little square. It feels like you’re all pinned to a page, but you’re so happy to be together than you don’t care.   

Right now, it seems that we’re all a bit abstract, incorporeal, ungrounded.  We humans have become mere representations of ourselves, while the earth is as fecund and exuberant as ever. It’s not natural to us, and I understand why so many people have suddenly started baking bread. The texture and aroma of fresh bread – with the heat of our muscles and of the oven – bring us back to our physical selves, make us real again. 

We are in an earthy season, and currently half the planets are in earth signs.  So the urge to strengthen our connection with Mother Earth is especially strong right now. For a lot of people, that means gardening, too. Suddenly stuck in the house, people are bringing in plants and flowers, cultivating small wildernesses.

People are also looking around, finding a familiar but unexplored reality in their own homes. The house may have been a way-station before, a place to relax for an hour or two before falling into bed.  Now it’s a shelter, a protector, and also a living, breathing creature with smells and textures of its own. It’s made of natural substances, just like we are, and it has its own personality, its lovable eccentricities, like any other family member.    

But what about these strangely abstract social lives?  Here, we have to look at Venus, going through the air sign Gemini this month.  Venus is all about relationships, and all the air signs give distance, perspective, objectivity.  This is a wonderful thing because it allows us to create little kernels of thought, string them together into sentences, and fling them through the air at each other. 

This is the way it works even when we’re in the same space, but there are other little physical connections going on at the same time, an exchange of molecules. This is an important part of being in love, this constant wordless interchange, and for those of us who are quarantined with our partners, it’s comforting.  It’s our ongoing earth connection.    

But we’re still relating to the rest of the world, and when we’re not in the same space, those magical leaping syllables are all we have. Our brains work overtime, making up for the molecular connections that are no longer there, filling in the blanks with our imagination.

Venus usually moves quickly, but this month she is slowed-down, staying the whole month in Gemini. Gemini is generally a sign of nervous energy, and this month, it comes across as a steady field of fast-moving particles. The thoughts and ideas keep circling around at breakneck speed, but they still maintain the pattern.  The patterns of our relationships hold, even though we may always feel slightly buzzed. 

Venus retrogrades about halfway through the month, so we may find ourselves discovering many old friends and lovers, and reconnecting to ideas we once entertained and stories we once told ourselves. And almost all month, Venus makes a square to Neptune, planet of illusion, fantasy, and imagination.  So not only will you make some excursions into your past, but you’ll also find yourself wondering what was real and what wasn’t, all those years ago. You may discover long-lost gold, and also fool’s gold, here and there.  

For myself, this process already began with those Zoom meetings. I can’t go out into the world, but I can delve into my sixty-eight years of memories.  I can see the intersections between my memories and those of others: busy traffic patterns, as well as times when we missed or almost missed each other.

However, our mental travels are not earth-bound, but airy.  Our connections are like the looping circles of a sky-writer: we are riveted by them, though they have no substance.  We look to them for a meaning beyond the physical bounds of our daily lives.  Rooted by what we feel, we look upward for all we can imagine. 



Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Stilled by the Virus





I’m awed by this moment we’re living in.  In my six decades, I’ve never seen the whole world sharing one danger, one fear, one set of solutions.  Of course, we’ve had other world-wide problems – the climate crisis, especially – but there have always been large groups of people successfully ignoring them.  Not this time.     

A month ago, I wrote about the virus in my column, but without any sense of immediacy.  At that time, the prevailing wisdom was that we should all wash our hands for twenty seconds, and not touch our faces. 

My wife and I went to Toronto after that.  She went to meetings, and I rode the subway, wandered through the Royal Ontario Museum, met a friend, and went to a market.  I took a little bottle of disinfectant with me, and remembered to apply it every once in a while. I saw three people wearing masks on the subway, but mainly, life was normal.  But as the days went by, the news became more and more dramatic.  Things started to be cancelled. Doors started shutting.  Broadway went dark.  Norway closed its borders. 

So we cancelled our plans for a family dinner, and decided to head for home three days early.  The highways were emptier than usual, and we crossed the border without incident.  Popping into our neighborhood diner for a late dinner, we made it home just before midnight.

That was two weeks ago, and it’s the last time we left the house.  I imagined that, if we had to withdraw from social contact, we’d do it gradually.  But no, it was abrupt.   First, it was just advisable, and we were just being good citizens.  I’m in the vulnerable age group – over 65 – and have had a few bouts of bronchitis in the last year, so my wife is pretty protective of me. The fridge was empty, and I wanted to go off to the store, but she convinced me to just have groceries delivered. 

Then, a few days ago, it went from advisable to compulsory.  Now, here in Maryland, if you go wandering off into the street, you can be fined.  All over the world, people are dealing with similar restrictions.  I look at photos.  Here’s an empty Times Square, the bright lights signaling to nobody at all. Here’s a coyote, hunting in the quiet streets of San Francisco.  Here’s my local DC Beltway, usually jammed at this hour, now a wide-open pathway. 

So what’s it about, astrologically?  It must be the Jupiter/Saturn/Pluto conjunction - something I’ve never seen before, just like this pandemic.  Jupiter makes a conjunction to Pluto every twelve years, and Saturn makes one every 28 years, but I’ve never seen these two cycles coincide before. 

Pluto is about deep transformation, and there is a lot of this happening.  People are rediscovering their partners and children, developing new routines which include them.  My wife and I have started taking late afternoon sunshine breaks, something we never would’ve done if we weren’t both working here at home.  We sit out in the front yard and talk over the progress of the day, and remark on how the leaves are starting to come out on all the trees. 

The earth itself is being transformed, as the pollution clears.  People are redesigning lives without commuting, without travel, without zipping off to do errands at any time.  Families are walking around their neighborhoods.  I recently learned that a woman from church lives just three doors down from me, and I had no idea she lived so close until I saw her walking her dog.  If this went on, I might actually get to know all my neighbors. 

Jupiter expands and enlarges, while Saturn contracts and limits our lives at the same time.  It’s a heady mix, at once closing off plans and projects, and simultaneously opening up new vistas.  And Pluto intensifies it, and takes all of us further than we can comfortably go.           

Although there are hopeful things, there are also enormous waves of fear, grief and loss moving around the globe.  As the old structures fall, many people have no idea how they will survive.  Some idealistic folks are hoping that an economic collapse could mean rebuilding it in a different way, with a stronger safety net for everyone, while others are looking for the money-making opportunities that are part of every disaster.  But much of the political discourse has quieted down now.  It seems less relevant in the face of this worldwide existential threat. 

How long do I think it will last?  Jupiter and Pluto are exactly conjunct in April, again in June, and for the last time in November.  Jupiter and Saturn are conjunct in December, before they both begin the new year in a new sign, Aquarius.  It looks to me like that’s the real shift.  I think there will be movements towards normalcy in the summer and fall, but this could be followed by another wave of illnesses, especially if we start everything up too soon.

But for many years to come, we may feel a certain trepidation when we hug each other, a little anxiety about what viruses are lurking.  I don’t expect that to go away for a long time. We won’t go back to the normal we knew before.  Our economy won’t fit back into the same groove, either.

And as for 2021, it does look like a year of revolution.  During a fire, there’s great destruction, but afterwards, fireweed grows.  And the phoenix rises.        




Monday, March 2, 2020

Lag Time



Nature seems to be in a hurry, rushing us out of winter and towards spring, with these too-warm days.  The calendar marches along at a quick trot too, heading towards Super Tuesday.  The news cycle sends up new things to worry about all the time.

But I’m lagging.  With Mercury retrograde, and three planets going through Pisces, I’m captured by a deeper flow.  I only want to meditate, to daydream, to drink tea, to gaze out the window, and to reread books I’ve read before.  I want to spend my time in the Dreamscape, a place where I’ve felt at home since childhood.  My brain produces the images, and I just wander around in them, untethered, free as any discarnate spirit. 

I recently read the novel The Starless Sea, by Erin Morgenstern, a book I’d heard lauded everywhere.  To me, the novel was a beautiful, intricate stage without any actors on it.  The characters were embryonic, the plot scanty, but the setting was amazing, full of intricate details, constantly unfolding.

This feels like the current moment, with all this Piscean energy.  Everything is open, everything is possible, but there is no pressing need to do anything in particular.  The universe flows onward, carrying us all along.  Of course, we bring along our baggage, our worries and concerns.  But most of these seem to be resistant to action. 

Take Covid-19, which is spreading like a storm cloud.  What can we do about it?  We can wash our hands more often, and watch for symptoms, and avoid crowded places.  But mostly we just stand and watch the cloud move along, not knowing when it might decide to dump some rain, and whether we’ll get wet. 

A virus is invisible, as it travels through the air.  It wafts gently towards people, looking for the moist places where it can grow.  It comes for its victims without a bite or a sting, with nothing dramatic happening, and lays them flat for a little while – or forever.  Three thousand people have died, mostly those who were already weak, or who lacked any kind of medical care. 

It’s a very Piscean epidemic.  We humans have always been colonized, although we pretend we’re autonomous beings.  But we’re permeated with different life-forms of all sizes and kinds, and mostly we make amicable arrangements with them.  There are no barriers, though.  And so we’re helpless when confronted with less benign life-forms that want to merge with us.    

And there are no barriers between people, either.  None of us live in isolation.  Rich people have always needed poor people to do the work for them, to cook their food and take care of their children. So we’re all in this together, touching each other in a million ways.    

Of course, the current US government is spreading its own cloud of misinformation, assuring everyone that the virus will miraculously disappear.  In most situations, they’ve been successful with their miasma of lies – but in this case, the virus is more subtle, and is able to slip through their net. It can’t be contained, especially when nobody is prepared, when there’s a general disdain for science, and when the emphasis is on economic damage rather than health.

But Pisces isn’t the only important influence this month.  Capricorn is also strong, with four planets in this sign, and Capricorn is very different from the drifty, dreamy, watery energy of Pisces.  Capricorn is the most realistic sign in the zodiac, the most pragmatic, often the most pessimistic.  So while the administration is sending clouds to fight other clouds, there are people who are actually facing the problem.  They’re the ones organizing, containing, and countering people’s fears with accurate information. 

They’re just like the people who tackle global warming.  Weather systems are very Piscean;  they flow freely over the globe, ignoring borders, sensitive to all passing changes, bringing everyone together. The only way to deal with weather disturbances is to stay practical, to organize, to dismantle outmoded structures and to build new ones. 

These threats are not the same, but they have one message for humanity:  that we’re all together in this, that we are not really divided from each other, or from all the other life-forms in our midst.  There are no national boundaries that can stop these things, and to believe in walls and checkpoints is just magical thinking.

But is the answer just to flow with it?  I think that’s part of it, but the other half is to strategize and to work.  These are the things that Capricorn is good at.  For myself, even though I really just want to float along in the Piscean stream, I know that I have to deal with deadlines and commitments.  I have to stay clear, and to keep it real. 

Both Pisces and Capricorn can help you deal with your fears.  When you’re flowing with Pisces, the main fear is that you’re not in control, and you don’t know what you’re doing.  The answer is to move towards what’s beautiful, sacred and inspirational.  You can tap into all-encompassing divine love, whatever your religion, and you can find healing for the suffering you’ve endured and the suffering you’ve caused. 

And when you’re working with Capricorn, you can appreciate the unchanging physical laws that govern our planet, that keep you from floating away into space, and that ensure that every action has consequence.  These laws are both tools and teachers.  They form the framework of everything you are and everything you do. 

You are at once body and soul, limited by time and space and yet unbounded in this endless universe. And you are not unique in this.   


      

Friday, January 3, 2020

Notes from the West Coast




I’ve been in a private bubble since yesterday morning.  Pre-dawn, my wife was driving me to the airport, and we were watching the morning splash its gold on the Potomac.  Then I was navigating the tiny space of an airplane seat, sucking on cough drops and avoiding the elbows of my seatmate. 

After that, I was in the new LAX-it lot, being siphoned into a corridor where my Lyft awaited.  It made the familiar turn across from La Cienega Park, and there was my son, waiting to give me a hug and carry my suitcases upstairs.  Since then, non-stop, I’ve been talking to him or my daughter-in-law.  Or I’ve been drawing and being goofy with my granddaughter.   

So I hadn’t even read the news until now.  I didn’t know about the drone killing of the Iranian military officer, Qasem Soleimani.  Now I’m reading about it, and searching for more information.  It’s chilling.  And the timing is even more chilling, since it’s happening just before the Saturn/Pluto conjunction, a time when effects are heightened, when ripples go deeper. 

I’m looking at the days between January 10 and 13, and I’m amazed by the conjunction of the sun, Mercury, Saturn and Pluto at the full moon.  This is something I’ve never seen before.  When I checked, I couldn’t find another date in recent centuries when this has happened.  Saturn and Pluto have conjoined before – most notably at the beginning of World War One - and the sun and Mercury many times, but never all four.   

So what does it mean?  Is it the entrance salvo in another war?  Another senseless archduke assassination?  In past months, I’ve looked at these aspects and predicted the downfall of Trump, since his aspects are quite challenging these days.  But I think maybe I was thinking too small.  Maybe larger shifts are beginning now:  the ends and beginnings of nations, rather than individuals. 

Having the sun and Mercury with the Saturn/Pluto conjunction adds another dimension to this intense aspect.  The sun makes things visible, while Mercury spreads the word.  So January is going to be a very public month, full of overt pressure and vocal resistance.  Large structures creak loudly, moan in protest, before they fall. 

The change from one year to the next always takes me to a different place, a place that’s philosophical but somewhat removed.  Every year, I restructure my world, recalibrating what’s important, letting go of what isn’t.  This year is beginning with a sense of threat, but also with the warmth of family around me.  Most of the people that I care most about were with me at some point in the holiday season.  So what I’m doing is drawing in, reaffirming the love which forms the core of my life. 

But it’s true I’m feeling a little fatalistic, and that’s a Saturn thing, intensified by the conjunction to Pluto.  It’s also an illusion.  Saturn is the planet of reality, and yet mystics and quantum physicists tell us that reality is not as solid as it seems.  What we see is not necessarily what exists.  So my quest, my resolution, is to take the fear, the anxiety, the worries that are part of our moment in history, and to find the place where I can flow with whatever is coming into being. 

The future isn’t in my hands, but my heart is creating a circle of light.  If all I see is a few steps ahead of me, it’s enough.