Aquarius, 2012 is your year to shine!
That is what my yearly horoscope said this January.
It’s funny, really. It also said that Jupiter would place importance on long-buried family issues in the first half of the year. It also said that the stalemate us Aquarians must have felt during 2011 in terms of work was just a time of collecting ideas and experiences that would be put to good creative use this year under the auspices of Saturn. It also said that Venus would make herself cozy in my chart between April and August, and predicted travel in September.
I got divorced in May.
I am mentally refinancing my dissertation.
And on August 12, I was never so happy to cross a border in my life.
Back in 2010, during my year in the States, I was a hyperinflated version of myself, and I was high on it. Self-knowledge came in books, time zones, happy hours and strange beds. It came in everything that was not my home, my marriage, and my comfort zones. I was needy and loud, actively unwilling, hungry for myself and reckless as only a God’s child can be.
It was not the devil that made me do it. It was loneliness.
I was lonely beyond words. I had been lonely for years.
Some six months ago, between moving out of my old home and the divorce hearing, I imagined the next phase of my life. After a year of extroversion, exposing myself to more emotional vulnerability than I knew what to do with and getting intoxicated with each new experience, I saw months of introspection, circling the wagons, and very probably more solitude than I could bear. Being one half of a team would be replaced by the hollow bang of nothing but my own thoughts. The new freedom of time and space would feel denser than a black hole, and I felt weaker than when I had to slip on an invisible protective armor around my person when I was thirteen. I had not known human connection then, not the kind I was looking for anyway, not my kind of connection, and it was easier to just zip up and shut myself off.
I know what the next phase brings. It will be a test of patience and big picture thinking. I am an impatient little devil. I do not ask for much, and God knows I am willing to do the work myself. But I usually know what I want, and I want it NOW. I am looking at a marathon effort of toiling away without the promise of immediate gratification. A mental hill that at times feels too steep for my drained faculties. An emotional deferment that leaves me raw, sensitive and vulnerable.
It is like swimming across an ocean. You keep your head above water and your eyes on the horizon. The Sun, the Moon and the stars are all there, venerable guides and companions. You know you are worthy, you know you have it in you, and it is not difficult to spot the level geometry of that beautiful line that splits - or connects - sky and water. It is distant but clear. But the journey is still made up of individual strokes against a medium that provides buoyancy as much as it does resistance, each of which takes its toll on the muscles and bones, the head and the heart. And when someone says they will be here, for you, with you, whether to throw you a pair of flippers to make you go faster or get in the water with you to swim alongside, and then they don’t, they might as well have pulled you back a hundred miles by the feet. Then, next to living, breathing, loving creatures one can still feel terribly alone.
Manche treten dich, manche lieben dich
Manche geben sich für dich auf
Manche segnen dich, setz dein Segel nicht
Wenn der Wind das Meer aufbraust