Retrograde: Mars Takes a Holiday

Anger Erupts as Discipline Wanes

Last night I was doing some deep journey work and got a bit of a surprise. I wasn't thinking particularly about Mars, nor was I seeking guidance from him, but apparently, he had something to share.

I've written recently about Mars, and Mars at play. (I've still been contemplating Mars at play - I hadn't really discovered anything solid until last night. More on that in my next post.)

More topically, we've all been contemplating Mars in Retrograde. Mars went retrograde on January 24th, and will continue in retrograde until April 14th.

This astrological moment is described as very significant. I've read some information from a few sources, but the information hasn't really "met" me in a way I can use.

Here's what Mars taught me last night. It's a little different from what you'll find in the books.

Mars in retrograde is Mars on vacation, seeking restoration, relaxation, and play.

What does that mean for us? I perceive that when Mars is on vacation (or resting), that HIS warrior discipline is withdrawn from our lives. Which means that we must rely on our OWN warrior discipline.

Where and when (and how) does HIS warrior discipline affect us?

Imagine that there is a warrior song being sung by a virtuoso. It's always being sung, so whenever you need to hear it, it's there. Whenever you run close to the edge, nearly slipping out of warrior discipline, you can catch the strains of the song, consciously or unconsciously, and it can help you get back into trim.

That means we actually battle with each other LESS often, and work our internal battle more completely, when Mars is singing.

What happens when the song stops?

We see an eruption of undisciplined, destructive, testy, angry, aggressive behavior. That awful "remainder" I wrote about begins to foul the room, our auras, our relationships.

Mars helps us develop our warrior selves, and in so doing he helps us work through our weaknesses - our dishonesty and lack of discipline. What we don't work through, we tend to hide - from ourselves and others. 

When Mars is no longer there to help us be warriors, these tawdry characteristics suddenly spill forth, sometimes billowing, sometimes leaking, depending on how impeccable a warrior we have been.

A friend noted recently that she's seen (and her friends have also reported) an eruption of anger among their circles of friends, families, and acquaintances, starting a few days ago.

I perceive that it is precisely the result of Mars on Holiday.

Are you feeling more angry? A little less in control? A tad more helpless in the face of obstacles, and more inclined to rage against them?

Seven Billion Trails

What if each of us could speak without fear and listen without prejudice?

I was contemplating the course of life this morning. Of my father's life, in particular. He's now 88 years old. He still lives independently. He's an Italian immigrant, a child of the Great Depression, and fought in World War II. He experienced modest career success (modest because he was an educator, success because he was deeply admired and respected in his field). He experienced the joy of six children, and the tragedy of the death of one. He was the primary care-giver to my mentally disabled mother for eighteen years.

He has had a hard life, in my opinion. I saw the arc of his life like a trek up a craggy mountain face. Shimmering moments of beauty. Terrifying moments of danger. Many moments of fear.

He continues to climb, serving as a father and grandfather to a single mother my age and her eight-year-old son. He doesn't have to do this. And yet, he does.

The arc of his life has taken him on a path that has shaped his character. He really has no choice but to be who he is. And so, the path he walks is the path that he sees. 

The path that he sees is the path that his eyes and feet are adapted to. His choices are limited. Not uncomfortable, mind you. But limited.

I found myself asking "Why?" 

The answer was actually pretty simple. It's not a trail if you're not adapted to walk it. And it is, if you are. 

A gecko can walk up a vertical wall. Trail, or not a trail?

I look at my life. I am fifty. The path I have taken is so vastly different from my father's. Mine began when he was thirty eight. The terrain had changed by then (or had it?). 

As I look at the terrain - the topography, flora, and fauna - of my journey, and of his, I see a grand landscape between us. Millions of paths, an infinity of experiences and contours, that separate us. At the same time, they also connect us.

Before this morning, I could only imagine that 7 billion people is a bad thing. But as I contemplated my father's life, and mine, and the terrain between us, and that 7 billionth beating heart in the baby Filipino girl, I thought, "Hey - there's 7 billion paths being walked…"

What if we could share our experiences, illuminate the trails we see in front of us, teach each other the way we walk our paths? 

What if 7 billion of us could speak without fear about the terrain we see, and listen without prejudice to the adaptations we have developed to walk them?

Our options might open. Our eyes might open. 

Our hearts might open.

The Most Intimate Thing We Do

Taking a Deep Breath

Over the past year or so, I've been learning a lot, and experiencing a lot, about breathing. It dawned on me that breathing is an extraordinarily intimate act.

Think about it... When you breathe, you take in random air molecules from all around you, through your nose, down your throat, and into your lungs, where they mingle with your insides - indeed, they become part of you. And you do this constantly. It never stops. When you exhale, you push what was, just seconds ago, part of your very blood out into the world.

So ethereal, this breathing thing, and yet so very, very messy and sanguinary. We allow our blood to touch the world in every breath. It's pretty spectacular, when you think about it.

(I'll also admit that it can also seem a little gross, and more than a little terrifying, when you think about it this way.)

I want to go a little bit deeper with this examination, too. It's not just any old air molecule that is entering your body. It's an air molecule that has been profoundly affected by the environment in which it is floating. It's been zapped by cosmic rays, perhaps. Most certainly by a cell phone signal or two. It's vibrating with the heat reflected off the pavement, or the trees, or the foreheads of the people in the room.

Each molecule we bring into such intimate contact with our inner physical being is aquiver with the energies present all around us, and to greater or lesser degrees, all the energy that is radiating at all the frequencies from all directions. Poor little molecule, so profoundly bopped and bonked and spun about...and in it goes.

What happens when it gets there? Of course, it carries all those vibrations with it, right into the inner sanctum of the physical. Makes you long for some good, clean, natural fresh air, doesn't it?

The other side is just as interesting. When we exhale, the molecules we release carry with them the vibrations that are inside of us. So all the frequencies that are generated by the complex interactions of our functioning selves are present in each exhalation.

Interesting to think about what makes up those vibrations. Our physical state, to be sure. But also, all the rest of us. Our moods. Our thoughts. Our dreams. Our pettiness and our valor. All present in every exhalation. Perhaps the instantaneous energy signature of all of that is what our soul looks like in that very moment.

Are we exhaling our "soul profile", written in the energy signature of our breath?

If so, what we are inside ourselves fundamentally impacts the world outside of ourselves. And what is outside affects what we are becoming.

What are you inhaling?

Perhaps more important, what are you exhaling?

The mystical traditions place great power in the breath. The power to create, destroy, rebalance, cleanse, heal...the list goes on and on.

With this perspective, I have to agree. And recently I've begun to experience this power directly. As I explore the cross-over between deep physics, spirituality, and healing, I sense (and sometimes can manipulate) the power of breath.

It's crazy cool!

We can argue over the magnitude of the impact, to be sure. Perhaps someday we'll understand how to measure it all. I'll be excited when that happens, but also a little sad when that mystery is solved.

Until then, I continue to explore, and have no doubt that the breath has a powerful and intimate capacity to connect us to the world, and the world to us.