I’m in a little village at the foothills of the Himalayas right now. I cannot tell you how lovely it is here. The mountains radiate calm and serenity. The air is clean and perfumed. The pine trees are tall, dark and perfect. I’ve been here for about two weeks and all I’ve done is brood over death and loss and decay.
The new moon in Scorpio was in my eighth and the themes of this sign and house permeated this time for me. Perhaps not surprisingly because we came here to visit family and found illness, old age, a wounded beloved dog and vandalism to the place my husband calls home. But even before that, even before travelling, I worried about the safety of the cat I was leaving behind, my parents who are abroad, our journey through the mountain roads.
We were walking home this evening, having bought black cardamom to help my sister-in-law’s nausea, when we passed this tiny road-side shrine. I saw a boy tending it the other day and today there was a flame lit. ‘Jot’ the Punjabis call it. And all I could think was, “I know what you are trying to tell me! This is a world of impermanence.” I was bitter because I knew time would rob me of the people I love because they are aging, they are sick, their bodies are failing. This is so not me. I have always been about faith and prayer and belief in God. But we lose our innocence with time because we know that eventually no prayer helps, that faith is wasted, that people we love will die, things we love will decay. Nothing can stop it.
But Scorpio is always about transformation and it also about regeneration. I’ve spent some of this evening reading Jessica’s articles of the eighth house and our ancestors: http://www.moonkissd.com/2011/11/01/the-eighth-house-the-ancestral-legacy-part-1/ And an article written by Patricia Walsh on a similar theme: http://www.healthepast.com/id6.html Perhaps, it was this and perhaps it was Mercury and Venus finally moving to Sagittarius, but I came out today of that gloomy subterranean place I had been wandering in for so many days.
Yes, there is loss. My dear friend Elisa put it beautifully when she said, “What I know is that contemplation of inevitable impermanence is lifelong contemplation. Unlike some ideas we assimilate rather quickly.” So this is a world of impermanence but we can love what we have now, those we have now. And even though it will all decay in time, we can still build with love and passion. And tend and nurture and protect and guard. We’re alive now, the living legacies of hundreds and hundreds of people who came before us. Here we are trailing love and sorrow, triumphs and tragedies in a blaze of living light as our ancestors, who have long departed, watch us. As we will, perhaps, watch the living legacies we leave behind. It doesn’t end. Life creates life and we live on in our children, in our work, in the memories of those we loved and those who loved us. And that is the return to innocence.