You know, there is such a thing as eclipse fatigue. Barely acknowledged, as we all take deep shaky breaths and steel ourselves for the next hurdle in a world demanding constant forward motion. This is the kind of bone tiredness and lack of fucks borne only by the unholy eclipse rollercoaster.
Felt as keenly by the many hanging by a fingernail when the rollercoaster looped their loop on loop as by those simply addled by their fast tracked evolution. And all of us anywhere in between the two, because both are de rigeur during eclipsia. Yes all at once. Change may well be a constant challenge but this kind of across the board revisioning knocks it out of the park.
Eclipses and snow globes have much in common. The constant shaking that reveals their beauty and their magic alike. The strange stilling that lulls us before we shudder again. The interminable wait for the settling, a process beyond our control. The mystery. The containment. The wonder. We are mesmerised by the motion of the filaments. Previously a raging blizzard blinding us to its contents, now dancing and drifting so beautifully to their new position. We are charmed by its ease and grace, even if only momentarily. We are curious to watch how and where and know why.
You too, darkling. All of us. Take your sweet time to let eclipsia settle and then to find your place in the new layers. You cannot rush the magic. Give the medicine time to work properly. No matter what, skip blithely beyond the last six weeks at your peril lest you shake again. We have not been schooled if we do not integrate our lessons. If we skip the homework and assigments, we will fail and god forbid, repeat.
So begins the post eclipse rippling. Under roaring Leonic skies and retrogrades alike, for just a little bit longer yet. There is still time, as the snow globe settles, to adjust. Shift. Find your feet.
And then, in the face of the new landscape, to rewrite your own rules. Take your time with their crafting. They will form your new exoskeleton over the months to come. Make sure it fits.
Words c. Kerrie Basha, 2018