Two, Two, Two Mints in One

6.9.03


the unabomber has two names

the unabomber has two names
even though his cabin, his cell,
are only one-rooms
if i spoke math to myself all day
and then was forced to be at school
with others like me
i might send a couple bombs out myself

his mother, rest her soul,
didn't call him that at birth
his name was ted or theodore
or something else
it didn't much matter because
names are just what other
people call you and people
don't call him at all

he, like me, writes manifestos
and letter-bomb poems and shit
some might argue that makes me
a likely victim for a similar fate
"wrong" i say
the difference is that he's in jail
and you are reading this


* * * * *


I know, the Unabomber is, like, so '96. But he's a Gemini, so I thought to share with you this poem I wrote a few years back.

I must let you all know: I really feel like my life is taking shape, things are coming together, and I'm developing this new sense of inner peace and acceptance about the way that I and all of us are being guided to fulfill our destinies by the coursing power of spirit, if only we slow down enough to read the signs and have a little patience. That is, on those days when I'm not freaking out about my lack of direction, wondering if what I'm doing at any given moment is alright (and often deciding that, no, it's not, and I'm an unhealthy mess to boot), and cursing that damned coursing spirit which refuses to reveal the details of its so-called "master plan" until later, when it won't matter as much because I'll already be there, wherever the hell there is.

This dialogue goes on between these two of my selves all the time. I wasn't lying about that "inner peace and acceptance" part, although I'm feeling it in a more meta kind of way because, even though I go back and forth between having complete confidence and trying to talk myself into having complete confidence, I am learning to accept this variability. We, as creatures with consciousness, are inherently contradictory beings—and remember that the next time somebody accuses you of being a hypocrite and you start to protest. Instead, own up to it and remind them to look in the mirror. (Gets 'em every time.)

Now is the ripe time of year to reflect on our multiplicity of selves, during this season of the Gemini. Let's be frank, our Gemini friends reap a lot of bad press, though it's easy to see why. The sign is represented by the symbol of twins, two distinct parts that work in complementary fashion to comprise a whole. The bad reputation comes from the fact that Geminis are able to get along with a variety of types of people in a variety of situations, largely because they are so adaptable and adept in multiple ways of speaking and being. A Gemini could say one thing to one person in one language, another to another to another, and if these two were to compare their versions, it might seem like they were being played. But no, the Gemini is telling her or his truth to both parties. Any discrepancy is likely a result of either a change in temperament over time or of some turn-of-phrase lost in the translation. Some folks have a big problem with the inconsistencies of life. Perhaps they envy the Geminis their freedom to explore the many offerings of the world by wearing different hats, sampling unapologetically without necessarily specializing.

We are coming off a particularly dense astrological period of the last couple months, and a little enjoyable sampling is certainly just what the doctor ordered. Think, for instance, about what has changed or abruptly moved forward in your life since March, when Uranus shifted signs for the first time in 8 years. Then, this especially harried Mercury retrograde came (Apr 26-May 20), scrambling our sense in a way we're still recovering from. It was so harried, in part, because it came in conjunction with the recent pair of eclipses, which also coincided with the final peak of a Jupiter-Neptune opposition. All of this has caused—may I say it again and again, in case any readers have missed this point in recent weeks?—confusion in a big way. Though also confusion in a progressive, routine-shattering, new-things-ahead kind of way.

If you haven't thought of it like this before, let me point out that one pleasant side-effect of confusion is a certain release of responsibility from doing what we're supposed to, in that (duh!) we can't do what we're supposed to if we don't know what it is. You follow? And more than that, the admission of this cluelessness is one way to delve deeper into our faith and to stay as present in the Now as we possibly can.

Last week, Saturn, the serious and responsible guy, moved into Cancer—which also means that Saturn moved out of Gemini, lightening any difficulties we might have had over the last couple years in accepting the Gemini principles of multiplicity, variability, dynamic movement and experimentation. This week, the Sun will be joined by both Venus and Mercury (Gemini's ruler) moving into Gemini for a spell. Seems to me like an invitation to let go of any guilt resulting from recent lack of clarity and to try out different ways of being, thinking, acting, dressing and wearing your hair.

In my opinion, the violent and schizophrenic activities of the Unabomber (aka Ted Kaczynksi) stem from his inability to both hold his critical views of industrial society and still to live functionally in it. My poem forefronts how similar any one of us might be to someone like the Unabomber, if we cannot find appropriate ways to connect with others to defuse the internal tensions between parts of ourselves. It is this need to connect socially, to communicate, with different types of folks that catalyzes Gemini energy.

The beauty of Saturday morning's Full Moon across the Gemini-Sagittarius axis, with the Moon conjunct power-player Pluto, comes from visualizing that our lively participation in lots of seemingly scattered situations and relationships (Gemini) ultimately combines into some sense of higher meaning and philosophy (Sagittarius), greater than we saw and intended at the time. With this discovery inevitably comes some discomfort—since, at the Full Moon, Venus and Mercury in Gemini will be squaring Mars and Uranus on the Aquarius-Pisces cusp—but discomfort isn't necessarily a bad thing. Interpret it less as anxiety and more as the nervous excitement the night before a big trip or the moment before a roller-coaster takes off, sending you speeding around curves and upside-down through loop-de-loops. It's the fun of life.

And it's at least a lot more fun than being so dang serious all the time that you drive yourself crazy and, years later, find yourself sending bombs out from your log cabin because you have no other way of coping. Loosen up, and hold on for that wild ride, which is, when you look closely, comprised of lots of little wild rides.