As we all move bravely forward into this new year, deeper into the chaos, dangers, wonders, and new possibilities of the this millennium, we want to express our gratitude to you, our community of alchemists, healers, artists, and warriors of the spirit. We want to wish you well as we careen together through the infinite galactic darkness towards some dream we know in our bodies is ours to manifest.
Alchemy begins with a radical possibility. In order for some new possibility to arise, something old and outmoded needs to die. Through decline, stillness, and deep rest, energy accumulates so that something new can come to life.
Liminal – from the Latin word limens, which literally means, “threshold.”
A recent weekend of teaching has caused me to reflect on liminal space and it’s connection to healing as the arising of new possibilities in our lives, and about how, as a man/survivor of sexual abuse/recovered addict, I’ve historically resisted, run from, and been afraid of this space.
Lately I’ve been thinking about the word “darkness.” When I hear someone say, “I’m having these dark thoughts” or “that was a very dark time for me,” I get that they assume I’m right there with them, making the same familiar association between darkness and evil, darkness and pain, darkness and suffering, darkness and generic badness of every variety.
But I’m not.
I had my first astrology reading when I was 28 years old. Sitting beside me, my astrologer Steven Forrest looked me in the eye and broke the news to me that I was going to be a late bloomer. With my natal Sun in Aquarius in the 11th House, the House of Future Plans and Goals, he counseled me to be patient with the process of discovering my life’s purpose. He told me, in fact, that the age of 54 would be significant. I understand now he was looking at the time when my Progressed Sun in Aries would cross my Ascendant. Age 54 seemed then like a very long time to wait for my life to begin.