Ode to Mars in Leo


To you, who isn't afraid of showing yourself, as if hiding your hunger for others' piqued interest is even possible…

To you, who will go for the flashy gesture over a blasť 'why bother?' ambivalence every time…

To you, who'd fight against charges you merely serve your own ego (ha!) with another surprising display of spontaneous generosity (because, truth be told, you really are 'that kind of guy')…

Thank you, beyond all hesitation, for stepping in—after all these months of Mars in Cancer—with a zestful reminder of what life's like on the Lido Deck, full of sun-kissed memories of both blissful and bittersweet 'moments to cherish' that only became so special because we dared to push 'em over the top.

With Mars in Leo, where he's been since last Friday (May 9), our actions will rarely fail to make bold statements. We're unlikely to reserve our anglings, should we see the goal as important in any way at all, so they may be underplayed. We tell ourselves, 'If this is to be our only chance (and one never knows, does one?), we'd better make it a good one. We'd better make it count.' The orchestra begins its overture. The stylist checks our makeup. Before we know it, we're thrust into the heat, at the center of it all.

This heat feels unbelievably great! Get out of the kitchen? Hardly. That's where all the fun is… and the food ain't bad either.

The soaring theatrics of an engaged existence often receives a bad rap—generally from those folks too dissatisfied with the state of their own lives to understand we who seek to celebrate ours. But if we are doing something right, these episodic vignettes (ripe with their own 'will he or won't he?' moments of dramatic tension) will string themselves together into a compelling story.

Of course, this 'something right' doesn't equate to making no mistakes. (Where would the lessons be?) Rather, it rests in the daring impetus to choose this over that—perhaps for no other apparent reason than because it's what I want. And with this choice, a series of encounters and exploits unfurls itself for the protagonist to experience. Along with it? Triumphs, disasters, developments, disappointments, realizations, recommitments, communions, connections, confrontations, completions.

Some might call it a hero's journey, but the semantics depend on considering one's self a 'hero'. Mars in Leo prods us toward that grand awareness, painting each turn or take in technicolor vividness until we can see our tale in such epic proportions.

Naturally, not everybody will share this epic investment in our personal quest. Some will undoubtedly find it frivolous or irrelevant, questioning why we even bother to bloat our self-importance with such theatrical flair. Others might take umbrage with how we baldly go for the thunderous applause… especially if they had their sights on the leading role, and are thusly prepared to push us down the backstage stairs, lest we neglect to protectively glance over our shoulder. Conflicts, too, assume the Mars-in-Leo bravado— loud, cocky, self-congratulatory, with an eye for entertaining the audience.

But hell, even that sounds like a welcome switch from all that Mars in Cancer, where any instances of standing-up or standing-off were doomed to occur beneath hundreds of feet of ocean water: submerged, inhibited, indirect, impaired by the current.

At least now, everything will be out in the open—the good, the bad, and the ugly. The names will appear italicized in the latest Playbill, in descending order, based on number of lines. Cocktails are available at intermission. Thanks, everyone, you've been a great crowd…

Mars will be in Leo through July 1.