This week’s prompt is for you to go some place that is sacred to you and to use the experience to guide you in your work. Look for signs and omens everywhere...
My first apartment in Vancouver was next to the beach. The apartment itself was small and very narrow, with windows that let in the afternoon sun and roasted us alive in the summer. The bathroom sink once fell off the wall and wasn't fixed for a full week, and there was a crazy woman obsessed with traffic cones who would scream at anyone who idled their car in the turnaround in front of the building. It was the sort of shithole that's perfect for your first place in the big city in your 20s. And again: it was by the beach. I could walk to the ocean at night and let the waves break over my toes. I could stand at the edge of midnight in the dead of winter anytime I felt like it.
The sea has a way of claiming you, once you've heard the waves.
The moon is waxing now - the night of the Scorpio new moon I did work to release some leftover bullshit in my head. After you've hollowed yourself out is a good time to visit the shoreline, I've found - you can feel the vastness of the ocean better. It's so much bigger than you, and it can swallow you whole and forget your bones.
You will drown. At some point, we all do. Not literally, but there will always be a time when you are swept away, pulled down, lost. And it doesn't matter. Not really.
It's been stormy this past week, with today being the first truly clear day in a while. The winds, however, stay strong - the remnants of Hurricane Ana. Consequently as I walked beneath a sliver of early evening moon, the waves were hurling themselves against the sand with real violence.
They will take everything away if you let them.