Every season demands a different* you.
We are in the thickets of November, and not an essay goes by where the transits of 2021 don’t get a mention from me — and not just the astrological ones. A lot went down, and still is going down. I feel suspended and yet on the move at the same time. A snowflake flurry around me, in my mind’s eye. It’s not uncomfortable… it’s not a n y t h i n g, just what is. I envision this flurry as a protective shield, much like a casting of the Expecto Patronum spell.
2019 seems millennia ago (permit me this exaggeration) — as you age, most years feel as they would to a dog — what I would like to get at is that ever since I ventured on this mental health and self-care pilgrimage, I saw November as a starting point to Year-end reflecting. This year… Not so much the case. One reason is that the year has been heavy enough, and the other — I have been in reflection mode for most of 2021.
Contemplating the mysteries within (and around) me is not something I am averse to, just that this Pilgrim felt her expeditions needed a new North Star. A different guide for a different time. And for me, that light in my night sky… Joy. My travels continue, and where I am stationed, presently — I revel in the Town’s attractions. Most importantly, how it makes me feel is slinking its way in (with my consent, naturally). I have enough, there is enough, and no matter how not ‘on top of it’ I feel on different days — there is peace. Issues are sticky but resolvable. I can do hard things, and more often than not, there is relief. This life-giving relief feels like How Deep Is Your Love by the Bee Gees. I am dappled in sunlight, it’s warm, sticky — it feels benign.
Of course, it is not always sound in the casa up in mi cabeza when it comes to the ‘handling’. When I write on here, about having navigated a storm and returning to safer waters — tales are not being recounted to you in real-time. Not one of us do that, I believe. We recover/uncover (our) truths in hindsight. It is Life’s treasure-laden and treacherous nature that teaches us to allow for what is — ‘sit in our silences’ or wait in grace for it, so to say. Ordinarily, we might not be awaiting it as much as doing our thing, living life, and then it comes (hits). A revelation, i n s i g h t.
Let it be known that patient as I present myself to be, I can be rigid and steadfast in my stance — in the way that I won’t allow for change until Tower moments come at me catapulting me into it. Recognising that has seen me through attitude adjustments aplenty, I am learning to be with everything that bubbles to the surface as Chani’s New Moon in Scorpio newsletter sagely states.
To sum up (thanks, Ross) — for now, at this moment — past energies no longer hold me captive. There is pleasure to be found (and retrieved) in the pathless woods. (I forget whether I came upon this in Chani Nicholas or Jessica Dore’s writing.) Should you hold a self-care practice close — bless it, keep to it, tend to your spiritual garden, and let its potent, rising essences bathe, soothe and transform you. I know it is one thing for me to offer without knowing another’s context, experience or story, I do wish you well though. P l e a s e, as you look to glean the Pearls of wisdom from excruciating excavating, trust that p e a r l s can be found in ‘delighting’ too.
Mental health has been gaining ground, steadily, over the past few years. I waded into its waters only in 2015. I am not knowledgeable about its very many facets, solo my experience of things. In the same breath, it is my belief — in the ‘commodification’ of mental health, it often appears that advocates (not professionals) want you to be kept in this mindset. The Dark Night of the Soul is nothing to be romanticised, nor is it a lasting state. It simply is what is, a state. Which means you may return to it at several different periods in your life. Does that mean you are imperfect, broken? Not necessarily. You’re human, and Life — an experience. We mustn’t lean far into our extremes nor define ourselves by our conditions. We are who we are, on our own. We became whole, the moment we entered Earth from our blessed Mother’s womb. Know you are worthy and complete, despite your traits, trials and tribulations.
Circling back to 432 Hz, the title I chose for this essay — meditational frequencies and sounds are invaluable to my journey as any self-care out there. Two tracks that echo my sentiments on grief and loss interspersed with memories of times past and yet pervading Love are Don’t You Worry Child by Swedish House Mafia and John Martin & Ghost by Justin Bieber. There is one other thing supportive of the energies I am presently in — these words I heard on a YouTube channel whose offerings appeal to me, greatly, “Don’t worry about Monday, enjoy the weekend.”
*Spoiler alert: You are already you, only upgraded.
Thank you for reading.
A note: Let it be known that much as it’d be sweet, that you feel welcome here, experiences and views expressed on Rosewater. are deeply, truly, madly personal. (Unless stated otherwise.) Should they strike a chord with your own musings and reflections, that’s lovely, and if not, that’s cool too. This collection contains no facts, solo personal musings and truths.