One thing I have discovered is that impending guests, whether they be overnight or just for the evening and moving are about the only things that really spur people to action when it comes to cleaning and purging. Christmas brought us multiple overnighters which meant that the main room in the basement had to be cleaned out to make space for another bed. Cleaning out lead to a pile of junk in our backyard which meant a trip to the city dump in Edmonton was now necessary. Because a trip into Edmonton takes time and gas, it made sense to also purge the garage a bit for anything else that might profit us with a good dumping off.
The Edmonton dump is located in a section of town near the river called Clover Bar. No doubt the first pioneers who came west found a verdant expanse that lead up to the water’s edge and entranced them with the smell of clover. I wonder what they would think of it today? It is no longer flat but a huge mini-mountain of refuse hidden by the packed mud and towers over what is left of the river bar. It’s just a guess but I am betting clover doesn’t grow there anymore. More people should have to haul their own waste away because it is an eye-opening experience that I find humbling and not in a good way. Visiting the dump, or the recycling center in town, has the same effect on me that purging and cleaning do. I feel ashamed and angry. Ashamed that I am such a materialistic consumer. Angry that I allowed myself and my life to be laden with crap that I don’t use and shouldn’t have bought in the first place.
I have right now four boxes in my office to sort. Two are photos. Two are full of papers that I was too overwhelmed to sort through before I moved. I wonder sometimes that if I had never met Rob would I be complacently tossing junk into my basement, waiting for the day that sorting through it would be easier? Sorting is never easy. Many things I simply gave away or thew away with little more than a quick glance back in June. There is a box of Will’s collectibles in the basement here that I couldn’t bring myself to pitch or sort and when I think about it all I can do is curse him out for acquiring stuff that has no value to anyone but him. And now I am stuck with it.
I was not much of a materialist before I met Will. My big weaknesses were jean and running shoes and books. Aside from that, I had few major possessions aside from my house, my car and my computer. I was and still am not much on kitchen gadgets, cutlery and cooking apparatus. I could live with just a sofa in my living room, a table and chairs and enough beds for those living with me. Matching accessories? Color coordinating? A rec room with paraphernalia? A decked out deck? These were Will’s ideas of the perfect home that he got from someone or somewhere. I used to think that he thought having these things made him like everyone else and he wanted that more than anything after the kind of upbringing he had, but maybe it was more than that. Aren’t we all raised to equate stuff, or material gain, with substance to one extent or another?
I was admiring my friend Char’s home the other day while we were having tea in her kitchen. The kids had just headed downstairs to play. We’d been out most of the afternoon on a nearby sliding hill and the remains of hot chocolate were still evident. Her home is on the large size as far as livable space goes but unlike many people I have known, hers is not cluttered. The walls are bare for the most part but for a few family pictures and a wall hanging or two. There is a single sectional in the living room off the kitchen. The kitchen has just a dining table. The bedrooms are beds and a dresser each. The family room in the basement has two small sofas facing each other and a tv. It’s simple. And it’s nice. It’s the way I would like to live myself. But right now there is still stuff to be dealt with. Will’s, Shelley’s. The girls - all three of them. I would love to pack up just our clothes and whatever toys we can limit Katy to and take just that to Texas. A bit unrealistic.
In our kitchen cabinets we have no fewer than three sets of dinnerware and a plethora of glassware and cups. Rob was telling his younger daughter recently that we were going to pack all of it away and just use the dinnerware I brought with me from Iowa. A cheap Correll set I got on sale at Kmart to replace the daily ware that Will and I had gotten as a wedding gift. Why? She wanted to know why we would give away perfectly usable stuff. Memories is only partially the answer. I bought the Kmart plate set because I couldn’t stand being reminded of Will every time I ate off a plate or drank from a cup. And I was reminded and not of the good things generally. It was a way to preserve the sweet and my sanity at the same time. But even more important now is that we don’t need a cabinet overflowing with plates and cups and glasses and bowls, and perhaps someone else could use these things. Someone without the resources to buy brand new or at all.
My daughter tends to hang onto everything. There are drawers in her room stuffed with school papers from two years ago. It is a pack rat tendency that is somewhat related to her age and part inheritance from her father. Children, I think, tend to need physical reminders of the past more than their parents do. But I know there are many adults who can’t part with their stuff anymore than Rob and my daughters can.
One of my goals, and this is not a resolution - those are far more mundane and flexible - is to become a minimalist and give up many of the things and trappings that have come to symbolize the middle and upper class lives of North Americans. My gadgets will have to have meaning. My computer obviously does and my iPod but I am seriously rethinking the cell phone - something I have never wanted and have regretted since Will gave me the first one seven years ago. Clothes will need to be purposeful and worn. Styles and trendiest will not be considered. Books can be purchased but should be borrowed first from the library. There is no need to own cd’s or dvd’s as long as one lives near a library too. Furniture should be for using and not decorating or filling up space. As long as we have family and friends to photograph, we haven’t any need of wall decorations. Though I haven’t completely fleshed this all out, someday I want to be able to pack and move without purging.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Will's Mother
Will’s mother was widowed at thirty-three. She chose a much different path to her now than I have chosen to mine. Nevertheless, she has had an impact on the way I view widowhood and grief and it could be said that I have gone the way I have because of her in some small way.
She has never been allowed much of a role in Katy’s life. Despite what she thinks, and tells people, Will and I made this decision together before Katy was even born. Had things turned out differently, she would be just as marginalized today as she in fact is. I remind myself of this when I things like today’s Christmas card arrive that Will knew her very well and though he loved her, he didn’t much approve of her choices past and present.
About eight months after Will died, his mother decided to resume contact with Katy - not me - Katy, who was four. She would send holiday cards and drop the occasional gift off at the door when we were not home. The cards were addressed to Katy and written to me. They were full of venom even though she had professed to have forgiven me for all I did to her during Will’s illness. It’s funny to me that for some people finding Jesus is often at the loss of civility, but that’s another post for another day perhaps.
I ignored her attempts. Katy refused to acknowledge having a second grandmother at that point (though she knew she did) as a result of things that happened during the hospice months, and I wasn’t going to push it. My mother-in-law knew what she had to do in order to gain entry into our lives and wasn’t about to. At this point I think I should point out that when she found out she was going to be a grandmother at last (we’d been trying for two and a half years and she blamed me for our lack of success), her first response was that now she could finally wear a t-shirt that said “grandma” just like all the other women her age that she knew. Katy, like Will before her, was to be an accessory.
Since no one in Will’s family ever called or stopped by or checked up on us in any way past the first two or so months after he died, I didn’t feel obligated to keep them up to date on our life, or my personal life. So, they didn’t know about Rob. When he appeared or when we got serious or the engagement or our plans to move Katy and I to Canada or our marriage. In fact it was mid-August or maybe even September already when I sent out letters informing them of our marriage and our location. Will’s oldest uncle and his aunt on his dad’s side were quite nice. Will’s mother? She didn’t take it very well. At least that is what I heard.
Today her Christmas card arrived. I had asked her not to send cards to Katy with messages intended for me anymore. Her card was just the message printed inside and her signature, and then out dropped a letter for me. It was as cruel as she could make it without directly violating her new-found faith in the Lord. The lord, as we all know, is big on form and light on intent. Her opening line was:
“I could bash you for what you have done to me and Will but I forgave you for all of that and I am at peace.”
Rob told me to just forget about it. Don’t let it have power. What she thinks I did to her is of little import to me. I know what kind of person she is and this is typical of that type of person, but that she implied that I did things to Will that hurt him is a bit harder to put aside. I know she is angry. She feels that life has cheated her time and again and never gives a thought to her part in the misery that defines her life now, but still. I feel often that I failed Will even when I know I didn’t and I hate that she can push this button. I will put this card and the letter away with the others. Katy can have them when she is old enough to read and understand them.
She has never been allowed much of a role in Katy’s life. Despite what she thinks, and tells people, Will and I made this decision together before Katy was even born. Had things turned out differently, she would be just as marginalized today as she in fact is. I remind myself of this when I things like today’s Christmas card arrive that Will knew her very well and though he loved her, he didn’t much approve of her choices past and present.
About eight months after Will died, his mother decided to resume contact with Katy - not me - Katy, who was four. She would send holiday cards and drop the occasional gift off at the door when we were not home. The cards were addressed to Katy and written to me. They were full of venom even though she had professed to have forgiven me for all I did to her during Will’s illness. It’s funny to me that for some people finding Jesus is often at the loss of civility, but that’s another post for another day perhaps.
I ignored her attempts. Katy refused to acknowledge having a second grandmother at that point (though she knew she did) as a result of things that happened during the hospice months, and I wasn’t going to push it. My mother-in-law knew what she had to do in order to gain entry into our lives and wasn’t about to. At this point I think I should point out that when she found out she was going to be a grandmother at last (we’d been trying for two and a half years and she blamed me for our lack of success), her first response was that now she could finally wear a t-shirt that said “grandma” just like all the other women her age that she knew. Katy, like Will before her, was to be an accessory.
Since no one in Will’s family ever called or stopped by or checked up on us in any way past the first two or so months after he died, I didn’t feel obligated to keep them up to date on our life, or my personal life. So, they didn’t know about Rob. When he appeared or when we got serious or the engagement or our plans to move Katy and I to Canada or our marriage. In fact it was mid-August or maybe even September already when I sent out letters informing them of our marriage and our location. Will’s oldest uncle and his aunt on his dad’s side were quite nice. Will’s mother? She didn’t take it very well. At least that is what I heard.
Today her Christmas card arrived. I had asked her not to send cards to Katy with messages intended for me anymore. Her card was just the message printed inside and her signature, and then out dropped a letter for me. It was as cruel as she could make it without directly violating her new-found faith in the Lord. The lord, as we all know, is big on form and light on intent. Her opening line was:
“I could bash you for what you have done to me and Will but I forgave you for all of that and I am at peace.”
Rob told me to just forget about it. Don’t let it have power. What she thinks I did to her is of little import to me. I know what kind of person she is and this is typical of that type of person, but that she implied that I did things to Will that hurt him is a bit harder to put aside. I know she is angry. She feels that life has cheated her time and again and never gives a thought to her part in the misery that defines her life now, but still. I feel often that I failed Will even when I know I didn’t and I hate that she can push this button. I will put this card and the letter away with the others. Katy can have them when she is old enough to read and understand them.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Virtual
The spring after Will died I spent a lot of time playing The Sims. In retrospect it wasn’t as mindless as it probably seemed at the time. In my little virtual reality, I had control over everything. Nothing happened without my consent and I could manipulate circumstances to have everything just the way I wanted it. Therapeutic? Professionals might not think so but as I played I slowly got tired of being in charge of everything and the lack of surprise and spontaneity and was soon just constructing my little worlds and letting the Sims run amuck in it.
There is an interactive version of sorts of the Sims called Second Life on the web now. You can build a doppelganger and hang out in cyber-realities like the crew on the Enterprise would with their holo-deck. Okay, not that “real” but I have been thinking lately about my on-line connections in terms of real or not. It was prompted by a comment that my friend Murphy made on our mommy message board the other day. She mentioned the fact that we had been “talking” with each other for eight years this coming February. Though some of the other members of our group have met in person, I haven’t met a single one. I haven’t even spoken on the phone with anyone other than Christie and that was years ago when Will first got very sick and Katy was just a baby. She twangs. A southern girl who has moved more times than I can count and fearlessly pursues her dreams from the perfect mode of employment to the best locale. I admire that about her because I am not that way at all. But aside from pictures and posts, I don’t know her like I know my best friend, Vicki or my new friend, Char. There is something about face time and body language and seeing someone in their element.
But still, Christie and Murphy and the others are my friends. We went through infertility, IVF (some of us), pregnancy/adoption, nursing, weaning, potty-training. They were there during the early days of Will’s illness when I didn’t know it was physical and was tearing my hair out - virtually - not knowing what to do. Eight years and a lot of life has been shared.
I think about my blogging friends and acquaintances too. Rob and I are acquainted with a law student in New York City who goes by the name of Pulp. He probably isn’t much older than Farron and I wouldn’t know him from a hole in the wall if I were to walk by him on the street. But he counts. I know people all over. There is Rick the rabid Republican who blogs at the Register and stubbornly refuses to except that he is wrong about climate change (he is a flat-worlder in that respect). Barb and Ali are in Australia. I got my initial dating advice from Jim and Martin in Great Britain. Tanja is my larger than life Dutch friend in Arizona. I have friends all over Canada. Sally, Heather and her sister Karen, Cheryl - who came to our wedding. I know a lot of teachers. Murphy is an economics professor in the SF Bay area. Marsha teaches somewhere in Illinois and Andrea is down in Texas. Tanja will likely be in NYC come the next school year. I met a White House correspondent ala West Wing who is now blogging in Iraq somewhere. Janet is in Idaho. Liz and Candy share a place in Arizona and date biker/musicians up in the mountains at their leisure. A recent Facebook friend has a successful pod-cast that she sells on iTunes. And I know more widowed people than I can shake a stick at.
Alicia, a widow acquaintance, and I had a short exchange on yesterday’s blog about our “relationship” and though it is not friends, it is not strangers either. We know more about each other than many people who we likely interact with on a real and regular basis. How is that? It’s a puzzlement, as the King would say. What defines a relationship? When does it stop being acquaintance? And does that mean friendship? I think not because that is a mutual consent thing but I don’t remember asking anyone to be my friend ever. In some cases I just presumed and was not rebuffed when I did so, but in many instances it seems to be unspoken but mutually understood.
So what has prompted this ramble? Moving. Again. I am finally settling in here and at the same time am getting ready to travel to Texas for an extended stay. Though not to put down roots because the idea of fire ants, alligators, humidity, hurricanes and endless expanses of concrete can’t compete with the sky here, which I will miss terribly, or the space and the dry air. And I like the people. It has been easier to fit in here than in any place I have ever been. I am not sure if that is Canada or me however.
I am psyched for Texas. Really, I am. But while I didn’t really feel as though I was leaving home when I sold the place in Des Moines and came north. I can’t say the same thing about returning.
There is an interactive version of sorts of the Sims called Second Life on the web now. You can build a doppelganger and hang out in cyber-realities like the crew on the Enterprise would with their holo-deck. Okay, not that “real” but I have been thinking lately about my on-line connections in terms of real or not. It was prompted by a comment that my friend Murphy made on our mommy message board the other day. She mentioned the fact that we had been “talking” with each other for eight years this coming February. Though some of the other members of our group have met in person, I haven’t met a single one. I haven’t even spoken on the phone with anyone other than Christie and that was years ago when Will first got very sick and Katy was just a baby. She twangs. A southern girl who has moved more times than I can count and fearlessly pursues her dreams from the perfect mode of employment to the best locale. I admire that about her because I am not that way at all. But aside from pictures and posts, I don’t know her like I know my best friend, Vicki or my new friend, Char. There is something about face time and body language and seeing someone in their element.
But still, Christie and Murphy and the others are my friends. We went through infertility, IVF (some of us), pregnancy/adoption, nursing, weaning, potty-training. They were there during the early days of Will’s illness when I didn’t know it was physical and was tearing my hair out - virtually - not knowing what to do. Eight years and a lot of life has been shared.
I think about my blogging friends and acquaintances too. Rob and I are acquainted with a law student in New York City who goes by the name of Pulp. He probably isn’t much older than Farron and I wouldn’t know him from a hole in the wall if I were to walk by him on the street. But he counts. I know people all over. There is Rick the rabid Republican who blogs at the Register and stubbornly refuses to except that he is wrong about climate change (he is a flat-worlder in that respect). Barb and Ali are in Australia. I got my initial dating advice from Jim and Martin in Great Britain. Tanja is my larger than life Dutch friend in Arizona. I have friends all over Canada. Sally, Heather and her sister Karen, Cheryl - who came to our wedding. I know a lot of teachers. Murphy is an economics professor in the SF Bay area. Marsha teaches somewhere in Illinois and Andrea is down in Texas. Tanja will likely be in NYC come the next school year. I met a White House correspondent ala West Wing who is now blogging in Iraq somewhere. Janet is in Idaho. Liz and Candy share a place in Arizona and date biker/musicians up in the mountains at their leisure. A recent Facebook friend has a successful pod-cast that she sells on iTunes. And I know more widowed people than I can shake a stick at.
Alicia, a widow acquaintance, and I had a short exchange on yesterday’s blog about our “relationship” and though it is not friends, it is not strangers either. We know more about each other than many people who we likely interact with on a real and regular basis. How is that? It’s a puzzlement, as the King would say. What defines a relationship? When does it stop being acquaintance? And does that mean friendship? I think not because that is a mutual consent thing but I don’t remember asking anyone to be my friend ever. In some cases I just presumed and was not rebuffed when I did so, but in many instances it seems to be unspoken but mutually understood.
So what has prompted this ramble? Moving. Again. I am finally settling in here and at the same time am getting ready to travel to Texas for an extended stay. Though not to put down roots because the idea of fire ants, alligators, humidity, hurricanes and endless expanses of concrete can’t compete with the sky here, which I will miss terribly, or the space and the dry air. And I like the people. It has been easier to fit in here than in any place I have ever been. I am not sure if that is Canada or me however.
I am psyched for Texas. Really, I am. But while I didn’t really feel as though I was leaving home when I sold the place in Des Moines and came north. I can’t say the same thing about returning.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
In Our Stars
Yesterday I was owning up to having been tagged, but today I am merely stealing an idea from Alicia, of all people. She posted an overview of her astrological sign, highlighting those passages that pertained more specifically to her from her perspective and then adding a brief commentary at the end. She is a Capricorn, like my younger step-daughter, Jordan and my college friend, Fran. Grounded and practical to a fault. They are good listeners. Give pretty good advice as a rule. And can cut you to a quick with lightening speed. Good traits all really in my opinion. They are not adventurous though. Whereas I am Luke Skywalker, they are Yoda (no pun or offense, Fran - the comparison has nothing to do with height. And happy belated birthday, by the way).
Because I love astrology and believe that these general descriptors do tend to describe us better than we would like, I looked up mine. I am a sagittarius with sagittarius rising. A double whammy.
Sagittarius is undoubtedly one of the most positive of the star signs. You were born under the ninth sign, which is ruled by Jupiter. Jupiter’s traditional name was Jove, hence your jovial attitude. Pollyanna. Rose-colored glasses. The sun’ll come up tomorrow which is, of course, another day.
You’re extremely confident in whatever you do. Being one of the luckiest signs, fortune seems to favour you, whether you plan things or not. That’s also the reason you don’t mind taking the odd risk or two. You feel as if you can’t possibly lose. This almost cocky attitude is something that attracts people to you. Confidence is an acquired thing and it’s all relative in my case. Luck? Depends on your point of view.
You’re also very enthusiastic, and this is contagious — people can’t help but feel the same way in your presence. I can be enthusiastic. It doesn’t always inspire others to be so too. Sometimes it just pisses them off.
Because people like you so much, they want to help you achieve your goals. But sometimes your life objectives are colossal — those arrows seem to shoot much further than the eye can see. Your philosophy is to bite off more than you can chew and then chew as fast as you can. I am pretty good at bringing people around to my way of thinking, but as my mother would say, it’s because she is so sly. Chewing as fast as I can? Okay, I will own that too.
People around you will sometimes feel that you’re overly ambitious, and that your aims are pie in the sky. This is not likely to change you: you’d always rather aim high and take on the adventure of life than get to the end of the road regretting that you didn’t have a good go at making your dreams come true. Overly ambitious? Is that the same thing as not knowing my place? Or taking the advice of my elders? If it is, then it’s true. I don’t do either well or sometimes at all. I wasn’t always in favor of chasing dreams because the Catholic school girl and Iowan sensibilities can be hard to overcome but anymore I think that my life is too short and getting shorter all the time to defer. There is a poem about dreams deferred by Langston Hughes:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-- And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
One of your primary lessons in life will be related to this. You will need to learn that there are limits to what you’re capable of, and how to recognize them. Making sure your goals are actually practical enough to be achieved is another side of this one. Limitations and practicality. Good thing I am married to an earth sign. All joking aside, I learned this over and over in the last few years. But I also pushed myself like I have never done before - so it’s all relative really.
You have a great sense of timing, and know just when to make your move. This is because Sagittarius also governs knowledge, wisdom and spirituality. You know you can trust your gut feeling, so call on it when you need it. Sometimes I just know things. I have always been that way. I don’t feel a need to second guess when these things present. That other people don’t understand isn’t my concern.
Personal growth and understanding is a key aspect of your personality. You hate the idea of waltzing blindly through life without understanding — or finding — its meaning. This seems like a bit of a contradiction, because you’re quite a party animal too, but you do have this deeper side to your character. I have to take exception to the party animal thing. Except for a brief party girl phase in college, I don’t think I could be accused of being shallow very easily. Maybe because my moon is in either Virgo or Taurus. Can’t remember which.
So you’re constantly looking for meaning in your life, trying to figure out what makes the world tick, and planning and dreaming about how you can extract the maximum benefit from your time here. This is vitally important to you, so you’ll go to great lengths to find what you’re searching for.
Your totem, the Centaur, which is half man and half beast, describes you and the way you live your life perfectly. The Centaur has a bow and arrow and is aiming at the sky. This is you to a T. High ambitions.
Because you are so positive, you see the possibilities as endless. You never take no for an answer, and you always see the cup as half full, not half empty. Adventure is your second name, and you will have a strong desire to travel and seek out new experiences. Visiting different countries and exploring diverse cultures will add to your all-round happiness. This curiosity also comes with a dose of restlessness, though.
You have a genuine interest in getting to the truth and be part of whatever environment you’re in, but you are easily bored if the mental stimulation is missing. This is especially true when we put ‘Sagittarius’ in the same sentence as ‘relationship’.
Lots of people don’t get where you’re coming from. You’re serious about relationships, but you need a ton of stimulation and variety to keep love alive. You love to flirt and show off, but you need to be careful with this — if you’re in a relationship it will cause problems. I am Enigma. Well, not really if you are paying attention but that’s just it. Most people don’t. Only a few will slow down enough to parse you out and it took me a long time to realize this but I am happier for it today.
You love freedom, and this applies to relationships, your family situation and your work: you hate anyone tying you down. It’s as if you’re Peter Pan and want to stay forever young and free. You’ll need to balance this passion for independence with some responsibility and commitment sooner or later. Responsibility is my middle name. Always has been, but I am not a follower and hate being told anything. I never wanted to be young though. I have spent my life wishing to be older than I am. I don’t think that really stopped until I hit my middle thirties and actually became pleased with the age I was when I was. I still like being my age.
You’re a gambler in life, with money as well as with relationships, but you always seem to land on your feet. Even when you lose, which you do from time to time, your light-hearted and optimistic nature means you believe you’ll get it together again soon, without any trouble. And strangely, that’s usually true. Nope, sorry. Gambling on anything outside of your control is stupid and I hate losing.
Your independent and free nature, though it’s one of your biggest assets, could cause you some difficulties. You are likely to expect everyone you come into contact to give you the freedom you want. People around you have to learn that this is an absolutely basic requirement for you.
At work, if you’re not allowed to make choices about how you do your work, you won’t work at your best. You rely very much on yourself, and if your employers give you a free hand, you’ll do great work — people will see this side of your personality at its best. Micro-managing makes me insane and is probably the chief reason I am glad to be out of teaching right now. A boss who micromanages, in my opinion, does so because he or she is insecure in their leadership abilities. They are the worst type of people to work for but strangely end up in charge an often lot.
We said earlier that Jupiter is psychic, and that you have keen foresight. That sixth sense is behind many of the decisions you make, and the more you trust that higher power, the more rewarding your life will be. Your decisions will usually be correct. Like I said earlier, sometimes I just know things.
Overall, you see life as a challenge, but also as a grand adventure in which you must play your part fearlessly. Nothing much will hold you back, and even when the odd adversity arises you’ll see it as part of your learning curve and accept it with a smile. I am not always smiling but otherwise - all true.
This was a neat exercise. Somewhat introspective as well. My astrological outlook for last year and this coming one was quite good, but then I am due - I think - for an extended run of good years.
Because I love astrology and believe that these general descriptors do tend to describe us better than we would like, I looked up mine. I am a sagittarius with sagittarius rising. A double whammy.
Sagittarius is undoubtedly one of the most positive of the star signs. You were born under the ninth sign, which is ruled by Jupiter. Jupiter’s traditional name was Jove, hence your jovial attitude. Pollyanna. Rose-colored glasses. The sun’ll come up tomorrow which is, of course, another day.
You’re extremely confident in whatever you do. Being one of the luckiest signs, fortune seems to favour you, whether you plan things or not. That’s also the reason you don’t mind taking the odd risk or two. You feel as if you can’t possibly lose. This almost cocky attitude is something that attracts people to you. Confidence is an acquired thing and it’s all relative in my case. Luck? Depends on your point of view.
You’re also very enthusiastic, and this is contagious — people can’t help but feel the same way in your presence. I can be enthusiastic. It doesn’t always inspire others to be so too. Sometimes it just pisses them off.
Because people like you so much, they want to help you achieve your goals. But sometimes your life objectives are colossal — those arrows seem to shoot much further than the eye can see. Your philosophy is to bite off more than you can chew and then chew as fast as you can. I am pretty good at bringing people around to my way of thinking, but as my mother would say, it’s because she is so sly. Chewing as fast as I can? Okay, I will own that too.
People around you will sometimes feel that you’re overly ambitious, and that your aims are pie in the sky. This is not likely to change you: you’d always rather aim high and take on the adventure of life than get to the end of the road regretting that you didn’t have a good go at making your dreams come true. Overly ambitious? Is that the same thing as not knowing my place? Or taking the advice of my elders? If it is, then it’s true. I don’t do either well or sometimes at all. I wasn’t always in favor of chasing dreams because the Catholic school girl and Iowan sensibilities can be hard to overcome but anymore I think that my life is too short and getting shorter all the time to defer. There is a poem about dreams deferred by Langston Hughes:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-- And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
One of your primary lessons in life will be related to this. You will need to learn that there are limits to what you’re capable of, and how to recognize them. Making sure your goals are actually practical enough to be achieved is another side of this one. Limitations and practicality. Good thing I am married to an earth sign. All joking aside, I learned this over and over in the last few years. But I also pushed myself like I have never done before - so it’s all relative really.
You have a great sense of timing, and know just when to make your move. This is because Sagittarius also governs knowledge, wisdom and spirituality. You know you can trust your gut feeling, so call on it when you need it. Sometimes I just know things. I have always been that way. I don’t feel a need to second guess when these things present. That other people don’t understand isn’t my concern.
Personal growth and understanding is a key aspect of your personality. You hate the idea of waltzing blindly through life without understanding — or finding — its meaning. This seems like a bit of a contradiction, because you’re quite a party animal too, but you do have this deeper side to your character. I have to take exception to the party animal thing. Except for a brief party girl phase in college, I don’t think I could be accused of being shallow very easily. Maybe because my moon is in either Virgo or Taurus. Can’t remember which.
So you’re constantly looking for meaning in your life, trying to figure out what makes the world tick, and planning and dreaming about how you can extract the maximum benefit from your time here. This is vitally important to you, so you’ll go to great lengths to find what you’re searching for.
Your totem, the Centaur, which is half man and half beast, describes you and the way you live your life perfectly. The Centaur has a bow and arrow and is aiming at the sky. This is you to a T. High ambitions.
Because you are so positive, you see the possibilities as endless. You never take no for an answer, and you always see the cup as half full, not half empty. Adventure is your second name, and you will have a strong desire to travel and seek out new experiences. Visiting different countries and exploring diverse cultures will add to your all-round happiness. This curiosity also comes with a dose of restlessness, though.
You have a genuine interest in getting to the truth and be part of whatever environment you’re in, but you are easily bored if the mental stimulation is missing. This is especially true when we put ‘Sagittarius’ in the same sentence as ‘relationship’.
Lots of people don’t get where you’re coming from. You’re serious about relationships, but you need a ton of stimulation and variety to keep love alive. You love to flirt and show off, but you need to be careful with this — if you’re in a relationship it will cause problems. I am Enigma. Well, not really if you are paying attention but that’s just it. Most people don’t. Only a few will slow down enough to parse you out and it took me a long time to realize this but I am happier for it today.
You love freedom, and this applies to relationships, your family situation and your work: you hate anyone tying you down. It’s as if you’re Peter Pan and want to stay forever young and free. You’ll need to balance this passion for independence with some responsibility and commitment sooner or later. Responsibility is my middle name. Always has been, but I am not a follower and hate being told anything. I never wanted to be young though. I have spent my life wishing to be older than I am. I don’t think that really stopped until I hit my middle thirties and actually became pleased with the age I was when I was. I still like being my age.
You’re a gambler in life, with money as well as with relationships, but you always seem to land on your feet. Even when you lose, which you do from time to time, your light-hearted and optimistic nature means you believe you’ll get it together again soon, without any trouble. And strangely, that’s usually true. Nope, sorry. Gambling on anything outside of your control is stupid and I hate losing.
Your independent and free nature, though it’s one of your biggest assets, could cause you some difficulties. You are likely to expect everyone you come into contact to give you the freedom you want. People around you have to learn that this is an absolutely basic requirement for you.
At work, if you’re not allowed to make choices about how you do your work, you won’t work at your best. You rely very much on yourself, and if your employers give you a free hand, you’ll do great work — people will see this side of your personality at its best. Micro-managing makes me insane and is probably the chief reason I am glad to be out of teaching right now. A boss who micromanages, in my opinion, does so because he or she is insecure in their leadership abilities. They are the worst type of people to work for but strangely end up in charge an often lot.
We said earlier that Jupiter is psychic, and that you have keen foresight. That sixth sense is behind many of the decisions you make, and the more you trust that higher power, the more rewarding your life will be. Your decisions will usually be correct. Like I said earlier, sometimes I just know things.
Overall, you see life as a challenge, but also as a grand adventure in which you must play your part fearlessly. Nothing much will hold you back, and even when the odd adversity arises you’ll see it as part of your learning curve and accept it with a smile. I am not always smiling but otherwise - all true.
This was a neat exercise. Somewhat introspective as well. My astrological outlook for last year and this coming one was quite good, but then I am due - I think - for an extended run of good years.
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