Deep breaths. This is only part of your life. (Introduction)
Over three decades ago, I made a mistake that nearly cost me my life, not just once, but on several occasions. Looking, back, there were reasons why I made this particular mistake. It was the usual suspects: insecurity (Even though author and star of the HBO's show Insecure, Ms. Issa Rae, is young enough to be one of my daughters, I identify with the basic issues she discusses in her book, The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl), low self esteem that was based on my issues with food addiction (I LOVE the combination of flour and fat, such as homemade macaroni and cheese, deep fried chicken, and...the list is endless); and my food addiction's ever present partner, obesity, which has fluctuated between being slightly obese to super morbid obesity. Seriously. At one point, I couldn't buy clothes at Lane Bryant because they don't carry size 5x and 6x in their stores. I had to either order my clothes or go about my daily business naked. The second option was not morally or legally attractive to me.
My other issue is a bit more complex to describe. The astrological profile of the three major planetary influences on my personality are: my Ascendant (commonly known as the planet that was rising on the horizon at the time of my birth) is in Taurus the Bull. My Sun in Aries the Ram, and my moon is in Gemini the Twins. I have only a layman's knowledge of astrology, so you, dear reader, will have to bear with me.
The ascendant describes how the world sees someone, and how that person initially interacts with people, places and things. To the outside world, I seem quiet, content, just like the animal representation of the astrological sign, the bull, can be visualized peacefully grazing in a grassy meadow. But let something disturb my outwardly placid nature, and the bull comes alive, thrashing and bucking wildly.
Let me describe a real life demonstration of a bull's lightning fast switch from grazing to fighting mode. I've been to a rodeo before. A bull threw a rider off its back, as if to say, "Enough is enough; I'm OUTTA here!", and charged straight for the section where I was sitting. People around me were panicking, and to be honest, so was I. Bulls are so much more gigantic when you see them up close, especially their heads and horns. Absolutely awe-inspiring and terrifying. Seconds before that really pissed off bovine was about to make that leap into me and everyone else sitting in that area, a rodeo clown managed to get its attention and lure it away. Oh. My. God bless that very brave man in a clown outfit; he saved us from trips to the emergency room or worse!
I didn’t realize it until years later, but the bull's actions during that rodeo symbolizes how I interact and react to the world: I'm cool, no worries, just leave me alone with my food, and there won't be any problems. But as Bruce Banner, aka The Incredible Hulk says, "You won't like me when I'm angry." Luckily, most people seem to sense that about me.
That Taurus introduction segues very nicely into the second part of my astrological triumvirate, my Sun in Aries. When people say things like "I'm a Scorpio", or "I'm a Leo", they're talking about their basic personality, as symbolized by the position of the Sun for approximately four weeks at the time of their birth, give or take a few days.
Some of these folks know just enough about astrology to be truly annoying to people like me by saying things like this: "I'm a Scorpio, and you know what that means? You hurt me, and I'll find some way to get my revenge, even if it takes years!" Or "I'm an Aquarian, and I believe in world peace and universal love!" Well, it's not that simple. People born under the sign of Aries can have various expressions of being quick tempered and impatient, be prone to very nasty verbal, and, if necessary, physical attacks. They tend to be natural leaders. Admission: I am very impatient and quick tempered, but that Taurus ascendant prevents me from expressing this right away. I'm more of a slow boil type of Aries. But when I finally erupt, it ain't pretty. On top of that, I'm a tomboy. No one has ever taught me how to throw a fast jab or a right hook. Those movements seemed like the most natural actions in the world for me to take when I absolutely needed to do so.. The boys who lived on my block back during the early 60s found that out.
My mother, bless her sweet Southern Libra soul, desperately wanted me to be a "well mannered, soft spoken little lady" who walked and talked softly. What she got was a rough and tumble daughter who preferred to shout loud enough to rattle windowpanes instead of speaking in soft, soothing tones, and relished getting sweaty and dirty playing football in the street with the neighborhood boys (loved playing defense) instead of sitting quietly with my knees close together and my feet crossed at my ankles. Mommy's proper little lady😝
The last part of my astrological triumvirate is moon in Gemini. The Twins, as the sign is sometimes referred to, represent communication and a quick intellect, one that loves gathering up bits and pieces of information before processing them into a story, a speech, a text, or even a video. The issue is that my moon, which is the sign that indicates how a person deals emotionally with people, places and things, has me thinking a whole more than feeling. In fact, I'm really, REALLY uncomfortable with this emotions thing that we humans have. I can discuss them in an abstract way, but it takes me an enormous amount of effort for me to actually feel them. I think that has helped me during my short lived, but very much beloved career as a journalist. If you're covering a murder trial that is both gruesome and controversial as I did during my first year as a staff reporter for the Sacramento Observer, you can't afford to be emotional while trying to understand the who, what, where, when, how and why of a story. Having a moon in Gemini helps out a lot in that situation.
But a moon in Gemini also has its problems. If my emotions can't be explained in a logical manner (yes, I know, that’s seriously Mr. Spock-ish), I'll either put them on deep freeze or deny their existence. As I have painfully learned over many years of therapy and 12 step programs, that doesn't always work out very well for me. Some events are simply too painful to freeze or ignore.
More about this topic is coming.
My other issue is a bit more complex to describe. The astrological profile of the three major planetary influences on my personality are: my Ascendant (commonly known as the planet that was rising on the horizon at the time of my birth) is in Taurus the Bull. My Sun in Aries the Ram, and my moon is in Gemini the Twins. I have only a layman's knowledge of astrology, so you, dear reader, will have to bear with me.
The ascendant describes how the world sees someone, and how that person initially interacts with people, places and things. To the outside world, I seem quiet, content, just like the animal representation of the astrological sign, the bull, can be visualized peacefully grazing in a grassy meadow. But let something disturb my outwardly placid nature, and the bull comes alive, thrashing and bucking wildly.
Let me describe a real life demonstration of a bull's lightning fast switch from grazing to fighting mode. I've been to a rodeo before. A bull threw a rider off its back, as if to say, "Enough is enough; I'm OUTTA here!", and charged straight for the section where I was sitting. People around me were panicking, and to be honest, so was I. Bulls are so much more gigantic when you see them up close, especially their heads and horns. Absolutely awe-inspiring and terrifying. Seconds before that really pissed off bovine was about to make that leap into me and everyone else sitting in that area, a rodeo clown managed to get its attention and lure it away. Oh. My. God bless that very brave man in a clown outfit; he saved us from trips to the emergency room or worse!
I didn’t realize it until years later, but the bull's actions during that rodeo symbolizes how I interact and react to the world: I'm cool, no worries, just leave me alone with my food, and there won't be any problems. But as Bruce Banner, aka The Incredible Hulk says, "You won't like me when I'm angry." Luckily, most people seem to sense that about me.
That Taurus introduction segues very nicely into the second part of my astrological triumvirate, my Sun in Aries. When people say things like "I'm a Scorpio", or "I'm a Leo", they're talking about their basic personality, as symbolized by the position of the Sun for approximately four weeks at the time of their birth, give or take a few days.
Some of these folks know just enough about astrology to be truly annoying to people like me by saying things like this: "I'm a Scorpio, and you know what that means? You hurt me, and I'll find some way to get my revenge, even if it takes years!" Or "I'm an Aquarian, and I believe in world peace and universal love!" Well, it's not that simple. People born under the sign of Aries can have various expressions of being quick tempered and impatient, be prone to very nasty verbal, and, if necessary, physical attacks. They tend to be natural leaders. Admission: I am very impatient and quick tempered, but that Taurus ascendant prevents me from expressing this right away. I'm more of a slow boil type of Aries. But when I finally erupt, it ain't pretty. On top of that, I'm a tomboy. No one has ever taught me how to throw a fast jab or a right hook. Those movements seemed like the most natural actions in the world for me to take when I absolutely needed to do so.. The boys who lived on my block back during the early 60s found that out.
My mother, bless her sweet Southern Libra soul, desperately wanted me to be a "well mannered, soft spoken little lady" who walked and talked softly. What she got was a rough and tumble daughter who preferred to shout loud enough to rattle windowpanes instead of speaking in soft, soothing tones, and relished getting sweaty and dirty playing football in the street with the neighborhood boys (loved playing defense) instead of sitting quietly with my knees close together and my feet crossed at my ankles. Mommy's proper little lady😝
The last part of my astrological triumvirate is moon in Gemini. The Twins, as the sign is sometimes referred to, represent communication and a quick intellect, one that loves gathering up bits and pieces of information before processing them into a story, a speech, a text, or even a video. The issue is that my moon, which is the sign that indicates how a person deals emotionally with people, places and things, has me thinking a whole more than feeling. In fact, I'm really, REALLY uncomfortable with this emotions thing that we humans have. I can discuss them in an abstract way, but it takes me an enormous amount of effort for me to actually feel them. I think that has helped me during my short lived, but very much beloved career as a journalist. If you're covering a murder trial that is both gruesome and controversial as I did during my first year as a staff reporter for the Sacramento Observer, you can't afford to be emotional while trying to understand the who, what, where, when, how and why of a story. Having a moon in Gemini helps out a lot in that situation.
But a moon in Gemini also has its problems. If my emotions can't be explained in a logical manner (yes, I know, that’s seriously Mr. Spock-ish), I'll either put them on deep freeze or deny their existence. As I have painfully learned over many years of therapy and 12 step programs, that doesn't always work out very well for me. Some events are simply too painful to freeze or ignore.
More about this topic is coming.
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