Mother Renee to the rescue . . .

September 26, 2024

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Oh my . . . yesterday, in the midst of my interior turbulence, I decided to do my daily yoga/chikung/taichi practices out in the backyard yurt, 4 PM. Determined to get and stay as present as possible for 40 minutes, to settle into spaciousness, beneath the racing, nervous mind.

And you know what? It worked!

Not only that, but yesterday, I realized afterwards, was my mother’s birthday! My mother, who was always at ease in family/social/cultural/political situations. My mother who, despite the responsibility of eight fractious children, utilized her Libra Sun’s light touch, backed by her powerful Scorpio Mars, with her always.

Her Sun, at 3° Libra, happens to conjunct both my Midheaven and my Neptune. I can learn from her ease while I’m unbridling my fiery energy now. Because that’s what happened out there: suddenly, afterwards, I realize that my frustrated fury (at the way the bureaucratic maze works locally (and everywhere!) had been unplugged. I was no longer fearful of the City Council turning us down. Because they probably will. And if they do, then let us leverage that fact to begin a local movement to preserve small affordable housing in Bloomington while simultaneously making way for multistory buildings. Both/and. Libra.

BTW: “small affordable housing” . . . what a beautiful goal for my natal Jupiter in home-loving Cancer, now transiting the Descendant (see previous posts). Cancer . . .  Mothering . . . nurturing those who need affordable housing in this growing town.

Meanwhile, our committee meets here at the Green Acres Urban Farm today to decide whether we actually will go forward with our seemingly doomed application to the City Council. And as one of us said to me the other day: even if we get one City Council person to think, to actually open his or her mind a teensy bit, “we will count that as a win.”

Yes. No matter the outcome, we win.

Thanks, Mom!

 

Still deep in contentious local drama. My helpers? Dane Rudhyar and Clif High

September 25, 2024

I’m still deep in the contentious local drama that pits the integrity and sanctity of my historic neighborhood of affordable small homes against the so-called “progressive” forces of “growth” that would upgrade from already permitted (as of 2019, I think it was) duplexes and triplexes to who knows what? Now that Bloomington is discussing the possibility of encouraging “tall buildings,” I imagine the sky’s the limit, given that, in this rapidly disintegrating culture, the profit motive still reigns supreme.

And while I’ve achieved some small measure of equanimity, it’s difficult when my astrological transits, during these four years, feature the huge eruptive energy of Uranus that, as it approaches full circle, it’s first return to its own natal place at 84, is so configured as to excite the natal Mars in Sagittarius opposite Uranus/Saturn in Gemini internal warrior; a war wherein I am constantly internally goaded into attempting to overpower my “opponents” — with better words, visions, philosophies, values, etc. and all from a place of fiery fury, born of frustration.

That doesn’t work. It never did work. (Plus, at nearly 82, I’m too old to keep it up, even if I impetuously started). And it especially doesn’t work with local bureaucracy. No matter how outrageous I see both the various legal structures in place that, in our case, apparently ensure that we cannot protect this neighborhood of small, modest homes (because the map is “too big,” city council members and others say, despite its character as an historical timespan with unified internal character and very clear boundaries.)

And yes, there are 247 homes, 80% now mostly student rentals . . . So what’s the use of trying to save it? — say the agents of defeat.

Because Green Acres represents what may be the last bastion of post World II housing stock, meant for returning soldiers and their wives to buy into the GI Bill, go to college (IU adjacent to Green Acres), and buy a small home, which they could then leverage for a loan to begin a small business, and thus generate the Middle Class which has, at this point, nearly 80 years on, almost disappeared. But I’ve said all this already . . .

 

I could go on and on. But I won’t. Despite that transit Jupiter, exalted in home-loving Cancer, and ruling Sagittarius is now, right now, and for the next six weeks, exactly conjuncting my Gemini Descendant and thus opposing both Sagittarius Ascendant and Sun! Yeeks!

I see that Jupiter turns to go Rx on October 9; will that begin to tone down my internal fury at not actually speaking my mind in a forceful manner, since if I did, I would wreck the cause as defined by our small group that is attempting this protection?

 

In this blog and elsewhere in my life, I’m continuously saying that we need to see opposites — dark/light, male/female, individual/community, conscious/unconscious, projection/introjection, etc. as equals, and that when we focus on or identity with one, we also need to recognize the other as our “honorable opponent.”

In other words, no “peace” without “conflict.” It’s just the nature of the duality game in this material reality.

My own forte seems to be the individual/community dichotomy especially. And this time, that includes bureaucracy vs the little people, and/or strict rules vs creative chaos.  At this juncture, I must remember what my philosophical Sagittarian self always aims to teach others: to see any set of opposites as dynamic polarities; that there’s no getting around that fact. That we need to learn to inhabit the span between opposites, subtly adjusting one to the other, like a dance, a flow. That indeed, the creative stress between polarities is how the universe grows and changes!

Yeah, would say our city council. That’s how our Bloomington universe grows and changes! But: they refer strictly to material reality; I am concerned with the larger context, and that includes, especially now, empathy for each other’s position, a willingness to listen to the other side; to learn how to cooperate, co-create, rather than control, impose.

But, I need to admit: I’m the same way, adamant. I want it all, the entire neighborhood, despite its larger than usual size, protected.

So, no surprise, really. Our sincere invitation over the weekend to meet with city council members one or two at a time for one hour Monday through Wednesday here at the urban farm, to listen to each other and hopefully find common ground,  got no takers. Most of them waited until today, the final day for possible meetings! — and more or less politely declined by email as “too busy” this week.

Yes, how to work dynamically with this polarity? I’m flummoxed, frankly.

 

Oh wait, Ann. Check the sabian symbol for Jupiter’s position. Any clues as to how to work with this situation? Wow. It turns out yes, almost as if Rudhyar’s commentary is speaking directly to me.

Gemini 22°: DANCING COUPLES IN A HARVEST FESTIVAL

Keynote: The wholesome enjoyment of organic processes and emotional drives.

Rudhyar comments: 

From the mind-built city, where workmen claim a larger sphere of social abundance, we find ourselves in the village, where men and women live in far greater harmony with natural and seasonal processes, giving free rein to their emotional instincts. The two poles of a wholesome society — the large industrial city and the agricultural village — should be included; likewise, the two poles of a healthy personality — mind and natural emotions, should be active.

Rudyhar’s commentary on this degree shows my dilemma. I’m used to living in this tiny (three home plus gardens) agricultural urban farm community inside Green Acres neighborhood, where natural emotions are encouraged. And yet, to work with this drama I must travel into the bureaucratic “mind-built” city where natural emotions (such as pent-up fury) are, basically taboo. Whew!

 

Clif High sees “contention” in the same way, as a dynamic balancing act. But he’s lucky; he’s been a martial artist most of his life. (My chikung/taichi practice, done daily, does help, however, to keep bringing me into balance.)

P.S. He’s especially interested in “space aliens” as the most important polarity humans must be prepared to contentiously engage. And he may well be right! In any case, his perspective is valuable to me, in this much more local context.

Clif High Newsletter: War, Huh! . . . What Is It Good For?!