Eclipse School

It is said by far more twee folks than me darklings, that if you are going through hell keep going. It strikes me that the same can be said for eclipsia, which has well and truly arrived. And with the kind of cracking clang that has upended the lives of so many in my spheres already.

Oh eclipsia, you mad matriarch of our changing world all shook up. You’re certainly not pissing about, bless ya.

Taking on board / choking down the compulsory disruption and discomfort of this mad season, let us not disregard its throbbing undertow. Mars hamstrung in retrograde is forcing us to handle thy shit differently. This does not mean we don’t all have volcanic simmering or irritation related explosions blighting our landscape. The current reconsideration of our relationship to anger is a flaming path indeed. Rome was neither built nor burned in a day.

Soon Mercury will join the retrograde party, so to stymie clear communication and force us further into the ‘clipse pit. Doomsday preppers, you’re up and as staggeringly ready as ever. There is simply no escaping the overriding imperative to learn how to always handle whatever comes served on your platter. No matter what. No matter who. No matter how and why.

Eclipse School is brutal and brilliant in equal measure. Shimmering on its edges is beauty yet to be revealed and best viewed through a telescope, in approach but still light years away. Until then darklings, engage Eclipse Protocol.

Glittering eyes peeled. No sudden moves. No dotted lines. No expecting a cracking meltdown to pave the way. Extra time in the great wildernesses, yours and our worlds. Crafting uncommon sense from the daily madness. Extra downtime. All the non negotiable basics. Solid self care as a militant act of survival.

Deviation might be eclipsia’s main squeeze but you have honed your instinct for red herrings. Stick to the protocol. Clamp thy gaping jaw.
Slow.
Flow.

Image of Winona Ryder as Veronica in Heathers, 1988. Another eclipse spirit animal.
Words © Kerrie Basha, 2018