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This has not been a normal Fall. Here in Southwestern Virginia, it is November 3 and violets are blooming in the grass. The sad brown-leaved lilac is pushing out small bundles of flowers, looking like miniature purple hats atop the dead-looking shrubs. It has been so very dry. The birds gather daily around the small dish of water outside my window, grateful for a sip and uncertain whether to continue their journey further south or just stay here.

I understand their uncertainty.

 

This uncertainty fills not just Nature herself this Fall, but my own heart. This Election cycle has ripped off the blinders of hopefulness that I have entertained over the past several years. I knew that people were angry. I knew that people were afraid. But I didn’t know that they would take that knot of difficult emotion and form a fist around it. The patterns of humanity are more predictable than Nature. Still, it’s sad to watch.

 

One thing about astrology is that it shows us the patterns. In the same way that humans have mapped the Moon and the tides and her influence upon the Earth, other humans have mapped the rest of the stars in our Solar System. Their patterns are mathematical, rhythmic, predictable and, without wisdom, unstoppable.

 

We cannot always influence what happens to us. It’s our reaction to what happens that really matters. Our reaction is the outcome.

 

And the reactions of so many these days are to look around and choose someone to blame.

 

It’s not the greedy corporation who raised the price of food; it’s the poor immigrant in the field picking the produce. It’s not the political party that gutted the public schools and with standardized testing and unsupported teachers; it’s all those single mothers. It’s not the organized medical scam that produced the opioid crisis; it’s those weak people with “addictive” personalities.

 

The fundamental political system, economic system and moral fabric that we rely upon for our communities, nation and World is broken. Pluto moving into Capricorn in 2008 was the initiation, and the last gasp occurs mid-November.

 

We send bombs to one nation; and humanitarian aid to the nation they are bombing. We have alternative energy options; but drill, baby, drill. We limit access to healthcare for the poor; but the wealthy have a wide variety of options. We economically stifle innovation and creativity at every turn; yet we expect everyone to pull themselves up by their proverbial bootstraps and overcome overwhelming odds. We want women to bear more children; and then we provide no medical care, childcare or time to stay home and care for them.

 

A few months back a friend of mine said “Yeah, I’m just ready for it all to burn down and start over.” And, unfortunately, that sentiment is a thread that runs through our culture, no matter which side you’re on.

 

Part of it is that when you are working so hard and you feel like you’re getting nowhere, it’s like being in the ocean and just doggy-paddling around. It takes every ounce of energy, and you feel vulnerable and stuck. Because; you are.

 

What comes next is drowning. In that stage of flailing about, it is proven that if someone comes to save you, your first reaction to your rescuer is to instinctively seize them, pulling you both under. This contributes to feelings of helplessness for both the person drowning, and the person trying to help.

 

I feel like this is part of what has been happening in the collective. Even the kind-hearted things that are meant to help can become part of the problem. Effective solutions are hard to find. So everyone focuses on themselves, and their “rights.”

 

I follow a YouTube personality called Beau of the Fifth Column. He describes himself as “A southerner who's tired of the lack of common sense in the world.” Many months one of his common-sense videos was titled “Let’s Talk About Rights and Responsibilities.”

 

He hits the nail squarely when he speaks of everyone vocally defending their rights, but ignoring their responsibilities. This is a part of the cultural breakdown.

 

The other part is disconnection. Years ago, I was in a taxi in Glasgow, Scotland. My cabbie, in his thick Glaswegian accent inquired about my opinions of the current election cycle, 2016. “You’se Americans,” he said gruffly, “Yer problem is ‘at ye cannae jus’ go doon tae th’ pub an argue aboot somethin an disagree an still joos shake hans.”

 

We work as hard as we can. We go home and work more. If you’re a mother, you’re practically a part-time Uber driver if you have children involved in the most basic level of activities or sports. We eat bad food, in a bad mood. And we drown our sadness in screens of various types, from our phones to the television to the computer.

 

The zombie apocalypse that every dystopian book and movie of the past few years is here and now.

 

I’ll have more to say about this as the future unfolds. But, if you have read this far, I leave you with this.

 

On the morning of November the 6th, do not despair and do not celebrate. For we will not know the outcome of this election cycle for weeks, if not months. Prepare yourself and your family for change, evolution and, potentially, revolution. In whatever way that speaks to you. Keep weaving your web of connection, finding safe people, not just safe places. Grow food. Have your back-up systems in place. Pray, meditate and try to see the larger cycle at play. And remember; do not become resonate with the angry, the power-hungry, the destructive. They will have their day. Be ready for what comes after that.

 

Shanti (peace),

Jill