These words have been speaking to me for the past 6 years. They were uttered to me during my 2nd Saturn’s return in 2016 regarding the years ahead of me. No husband, no best friend, no children beyond this point.
I have my North Node in the 12th House of Scorpio, the house of the mystic, of deep transformation and the house of undoing. To walk down into the 12th house, one must remove the garments of comfort, identity and the greater program. Like Inanna, this “Joanna” prepared well, leaving behind pieces of me as I moved towards the seven thresholds that lead to the hallway of the 12th house. At each level a certain amount of power is required to summon the gatekeeper to allow one to pass. I have put my all into making sure I had enough power at each level for the exchange. I have met many A gatekeepers.
But I bent these words… utterly alone.
And as I made my way down I cradled my little Z, my little tiger cat, another powerful Aries and my midwife (I would jokingly tell others) for this journey. I hid her in my bosom, making my way from gate to gate finally arriving at the old splintered door with a tiny window where a crooked sign hung that read 12H. Like one waiting in the birth canal for the perfect timing I lie down, curling around little Z expecting the gatekeeper to show up soon. I was tired and looked forward to any and all rest. My furniture was sold and now in the homes of others, new tenants were now living in my house, gardener hired and maintenance man installed. My eyes were swollen from the over-pouring of surrendered tears, my body bruised from letting go of cherished things, my mind scratching for anything it could recognize. No trace of the old life except for that beautiful face of my lovely Z. Together we rested silently and waited for the gatekeeper of the 12H to arrive. It took a few days as our power was gathered.
At the top of the door the tiny window slowly opened allowing a bright light to filter through. It fogged out over our bodies like a fine mist. My little Z and I locked eyes for just a few seconds with full hearts open and then there was a brilliant flash of light. Like a lightning bolt from the heavens it came through the window and struck my heart hitting my little one along the way. My eyes could no longer see, my ears could no longer hear and my body stopped. Time was frozen and I became the silent witness as I watched a misty hand unfurl my finger tips and remove Z from me. The midwife was needed no more.
the ways of the underworld are perfect.
They may not be questioned.”
And like a well oiled alchemical vessel, the fountain burst open, overflowing with the most expressive energy of pain. Blood pumping through an angry heart, lungs burning from the dragon’s breath, eyes spewing tears into a jettison arch, fingers crawing through the emptiness, animal sounds spell-ing into a high pitch squeal through the blinding light. All in a silent act within a frozen brain. And the sound outside blew around the words .. . utterly alone.
That night, I lie as a stillborn at the foot of the 12H door, waiting for her return. As a formless soul she translated.
Freedom is more important
than any comfort you could offer me.
I am a cat and my true nature
is under the midnight moon.
I suddenly felt ashamed on how I put restraints on her, on another sentient being. I was trying to make her human for my own comfort. I bled more and more and more under the fog of light until the floor in front of the 12H door turned into a dark gooey red thick carpet.
The next day the gatekeeper appeared and birthed me into the 12th House. Happy Birthday to me in the saddest of ways.
Two weeks have passed with trying to find my way in this new world of Van Life. I am in a very small van but have turned it into my little home. I have only gone a short distance while I stationed and mourned for Little Z. The muses are very happy with my courage which have been reflected in my dream life. Z has shown up so full of energy and eager to play. I have been singing in my dreams which gives me comfort. My nighttime dream world is magical. My daytime projection is processing a life of intense pain.
This journey was conceptualized from a mugging in a beautiful neighborhood in Berkeley at night in March 2021. I love walking at night. I want to be under the stars in the most profound way. This desire to be outside at night has permeated so much of my life. At the age of 7 my sister and I would sneak outside during Xmas time and do “pretend ice-skating” on the lawn. It was sinister sneaking out so late but so joyous to be under all those stars. I felt intense freedom as my sister and I wove our way around each other and then would separate, “skating“ to the outer edges of the lawn. During the courtship of my marriage, Rael and I would do after dinner walks through the darkness of San Francisco. I had a big desire to be on the cruise ships at night out in the middle of the ocean hoping those stars would satisfy the Viking in me. Being at Burning Man at night was a must. Rituals with Antero Alli and others under the black skies in the forests at Pinnacles. Learning how to night-hike with no flashlight. My camping tent had to have a mesh top so that I could look at the stars before falling asleep. The glow in the dark universe I painted on my airbnb bedroom ceiling that my tenants now look at every night. So much desire to be in the night that I hear Nuit calling to me every day when the sun is setting.
Throughout my life I have had deep melancholic moments during dusk. I have never understood it. I have talked to others about it but while others have also felt it, there doesn’t seem a good explanation for it. Yes, death of the day, change of light, passage of time, etc. But for the past week, as I sit outside my van, under the changing sky, there doesn’t seem to be any melancholy. In fact, I welcome it because I know my favorite time of the day is coming soon with night. And when the darkness comes I come alive. I hear the coyotes way out in the distance, with stars twinkling and the moon rises and moves over me.
Last night it came to me. Something about my house becoming a barrier to the natural nightworld and how being out under the night skies is very important to my psyche. Getting good sunlight brings health to the body and getting good moon and star light brings joy to the soul. I believe the melancholy comes from breaking this trance by leaving it to go inside a structure. I wonder if our ancestors would experience anything similar to this when they would enter their caves before getting the full experience of the night time sky. From their paintings I think they new exactly what the nighttime was for. I think about my own astrological chart with my moon in the 9H in Leo and how I need that altered emotional state. Possibly it is Nuit, Queen of the Night Sky, that shrinks the ego and brings in the awe and wonder of life. How could she not?
And I think about my Little Z and her huge desire and her nature to be under the night sky. It was so important to her that she gave her life to it.
I think of my little Z every night… standing under the moonlight, in my own nature of loving the nightworld.