Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Gift Horse Inspection Time

I learned to do natal charts over the weekend. The free ones online always have such strange explanations. We did mine, which was a little odd, but then so am I. My guy's was enviable in how clear and true it rang out his life's work, successes, and dangers. It's a good life, full of good things, and I am grateful to be tied to it.

What was I expecting to see in mine or hear in a practiced interpretation? I'm not really sure. Deep down, I thought it might spit out my destiny or life's work and tell me what I should be when I grown up. Like it would say, hey! your Saturn is in Taurus, so you should be a firefighter. Unfortunately, I'm already grown up, and the star-predicted path of eclectic jobs and erratic income levels is one I know well. It makes it hard to get ahead or make big goals to work toward, since being on the corporate ladder feels more wrong every rung I ascend.

It explains the abject failure of all my giant, magic-fueled attempts to swan dive into an Important Career. It's incredible to know that I'm not failing my destiny doing what I've been doing. It means time to grow things, to harvest them from nature, to make things, to learn, to make home a haven of beauty, rest, and comfort. Yet it feels like I'm failing to not put my smarts and skills into a Profession of Vast Earning Potential.

The thing basically said that my role is to support Mr. Career over there, to be domestic, to be artistic, to have a quieter more flexible life. That's really cool. It's what I wanted to do my whole life. But to have it spelled out makes me a little sad and jealous, as though what I am called to is lesser, not very special, or even invisible compared to what he's doing. He would never think that, would be upset that I feel this way. We all want to be special and respected. I fear that I won't be because he will always overshadow me.

Perhaps this is less about astrology and more about hidden marriage fears. If I take myself out of competition with him, I won't be a superstar overachiever anymore. Doing what's right and good for me isn't a failure, but it seems that way at the moment. It feels like giving up the potential of being self-sufficient. Lies, lies, lies...

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