Sustainability or Die
Art by Australian surrealist James Gleeson, The Attitude of Lightning Towards a Lady-Mountain, 1939
In the aftermath of the last annual meeting of the Sun and Urania in Taurus, the sustainability jig is up. Lightning struck and it served to sharply illuminate - or eviscerate - any last remaining denial of what's at stake here if things continue unabated. It's on you if you keep squeezing your eyes shut. Timeline jumping isn't convenient late stage panacea for privilege that refuses its own stink or shadow.
Last week's good Scorping didn't just rip any remaining veils to shreds. It summoned the undead. All that we continue to ghost deep within and flat out ignore is happening, feeling or even existing in real life. So much piled up that we have collectively and individually - or both - calcified or zombified or lobotomised ourselves "against". Shadowboxing change and baulking at the price of rebirth we expect somebody else to pay.
Revolution is fire that burns from the inside out. Epiphany is a goddess that brings to light. Promtheus was more than a rebel, he delivered forethought and imagination against all odds. These fable, like our planets, are also bolts that land soul deep. For any lightning rod to work and save what lies beneath its tallest boast, its wires must run to earth to ground the charge.
Perched now at the anaretic degree of Taurus, the bull has run out of china shops. Urania glowers at the threshold. Precious earth must split into twin currents that can hold multiple realities. The lady waits by the gate as sparks fly, whispering light into the locked boxes we still carry. Time prepares to shift postcodes. Our body electric twitches with knowing, another notch on the belt of before and after.
To find a new world, maybe you have to have lost one. Maybe you have to be lost. The dance of renewal, the dance that made the worlds, was always danced here at the edge of things, the brink, on the foggy coast.
~ Ursula K le Guin
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2025