Thank you, Mars, for leaving my 12th house today. You don't know how much that means to me. I'm finally starting to feel like getting off my ass again.
You really threw me for a loop, Marswell, 'fucked me over' reallywith that tease of a visit back in October. I really thought I was getting somewhere. Alas, I wasn't.
I'd been working behind the scenes, building my new business and getting back into shape after a psychologically difficult first part of '07 and by mid-October, I was ready to face the world again. Then, you decided to retrograde back into my 12th, to once again conceal my get-up-and-go behind the veil of full consciousness (or was that a veil of food and TV?), all while battling it out with Pluto in conflict that poked and prodded at my natal Saturn and lunar Nodes.
That's why I've been quietly thinking (and occasionally blurting out) all those nasty thoughts about you recently, Mars. I've been pissed off. For the last several months, it hasn't felt like you're my friend, and I've been missing our happier times together.
In standard 12th-house fashion, you inspired me to evade the world out there, through a blur of escapist behaviors that made me feel temporarily better (for a few hours maybe) but left me with even lower physical energy not to mention a bloated midsection, a self-punishing attitude, and pessimistic expectations of more of the same. (Thank goodness for my deeply hopeful beliefsand my knowledge of astrologyfor leaving me breadcrumbs to follow back out.)
There I was, repeating rotten things about myself to myself rather than, say, just allowing my sensitive outsides to seek the retreat they needed (whether behind a locked front door or a protective cushion of twenty extra pounds): 'I'm fat and ugly, and because of that, none of my clothes fit me right and by the way, all my clothes are old and stained and turning threadbare, but who wants to go clothes-shopping when you're hating your body, so I'll just keep wearing the same damn things everyday and since I look so bad, why bother shaving or showering or trying to look my best, when I know it won't work anyway and I certainly don't want to make many public appearances (unless I have to, to support my career or fulfill a commitment) or visit with old friends, when all I can think about is how bad I look and how uncomfortable I feel in my body.'
(Of course, did I ever really look that bad? Does anybody even care if weigh this or that? Do they notice? Or are my self-punishing moves to not maintain my appearance the thing that really stands out?)
Still, Mars, I hate to say it, but I'm smarter than you. I'm wise enough to acknowledge that your recent buffoonery is merely a flashback to old past painful self-treatment, which you resurrected from 'standby mode' to use against me lately. You were rubbing against my Saturn and South Node in Gemini in the 12th, after all: residual crap, contradictory voices in my head that won't shut up but don't necessarily belong to the here-and-now Me, leftovers from long ago when I had way too much alone-time isolation and little desire to respect the laws of physicality.
But this ain't where I'm headed, not backward into history. Pluto, the real transformer, is in my 6th and while his deeds haven't necessarily been 'pleasant' themselves, they're carrying me to a heightened daily habitual presence. I'm in a body, like it or not. Why not make the most of the experience, fuel myself back up, and see what this baby can really do?
Because I've been able to see your return to my 1st house coming a mile away, Mars, I've already started to get moving again. I watered those poor neglected houseplants at last. I'm finally cleaning up after myself againand cleaning myself back up. I cooked healthy meals the last three nights, and I've been taking long long walks for a couple weeks now. I'm even letting my enthusiasm for the gym creep back in again (haven't been more than once or twice since November, when Mars went retrograde!), though my therapist is encouraging me to celebrate the small victories (any physical exercise at all!) rather than put more pressure on myself (not enough! more to do! lose that weight!).
And now that you're back at my disposal, I'm willing to make amends. Being on each other's bad sides won't do much good for anybody, right? I need you to keep lighting fires and stimulating desires, inspiring me to keep on going when I'd rather become a blob, leading the fight for a rewarding life and refusing to settle for less. And you need me to allow a proper channel for your energies, or else you'll turn against me, wreaking havoc on my body, all that repressed initiative left to burn as anger and resentment.
So let's make a deal, Mars: You stay on the proactive side of my Ascendent (at least for the time being) and give me some strength and power to work with. I'll stop badmouthing you (at least for a little while) and give you the chance to make some new stuff happen.
And, oh, yeah, now that we're friends again would you mind helping me lose that weight?