What we value

This past week I was driving to Perrysburg when I saw a discreet bumper sticker that read All men are cremated equal. That took me aback for a second and then I laughed out loud as I instantly saw the truth in it. At the end of the day, none of us will take anything with us when we die, except for the energy of the lives we have led and what we’ve valued.

I’ve often said we pay for what we value - with our time, with our money, with our energy. Every moment of every day, consciously or not, positively or negatively, the lives we lead are a reflection of what we value.

Since Steve’s death, I’ve thought a lot about what it will be like to leave this place and meet him on the other side. While I certainly don’t have a death wish, I do wish for a peaceful death, not unlike the tens of thousands of times I’ve practiced savasana at the end of a yoga class. I’ve always believed there is more than this earthly plane, and since Steve’s passing, I know for certain it’s true. He’s come to me in dreams so vivid, they are more real than when I’m awake. There have been coincidences too striking to deny he had a hand in creating them simply to remind me that while I may not be able to see him, he’s still around, watching over me.

One of things I value most about our relationship was the way we communicated. From the start, even when we were only friends, Steve and I would sit and talk for hours about anything…and everything. One of the first serious conversations we had started when he walked by my open office window on his way home from an AA meeting.

“Whatcha doing, Snow?” he asked. (He called me Snow White because he said living next door to me was like living next to an enchanted house in the woods where “flora and fauna flourish.”)

I looked up from the computer screen. “Working on natal chart for someone.”

“You believe in astrology?” he laughed.

“It’s not a matter of believing in it,” I replied. “It is what it is, like the weather or a life cycle. And look who’s talking…you’re such a Scorpio you have the glyph tattooed on your chest and a huge scorpion on your arm! You literally wear it on your sleeve.”

“That doesn’t mean I believe in it,” Steve grinned, leaning on the fence that divided our yards.

I knew he was baiting me to get into a debate, but I wouldn’t take it. I rarely tell people I’m an astrologer because I don’t want to have to defend or explain it…. or be asked to look at someone’s natal chart at a social gathering. I can’t tell you how many times someone has called their mother at a party or coffee house to try and get an accurate birthtime. But I digress.

“You don’t have to believe in it,” I told Steve. “Take it or leave it, astrology is a reflection of reality.”

Ten minutes later Steve was in my office asking me to look at his natal chart. After twenty minutes, he looked at me wide-eyed. “How do you know this stuff?”

“I don’t know it,” I replied. “Your chart just reveals the story of your life. But you have to remember, you’re not a Scorpio. I’m not a Virgo…not really. Our soul, our spirit or whatever you want to call it, came into this life at a specific time to learn and teach and grow. Yours chose the Scorpio journey, mine the Virgo one.”

It wasn’t lost on Steve that his father’s birthday was the day after his, and that I’m a third-generation Virgo on my mother’s side. “Families often clump in certain areas of the zodiac because they are evolving the same lessons but in different ways,” I explained. “That’s why I practice spiritual astrology. It’s more than just a daily horoscope because it looks at the person as a whole.”

While Steve didn’t always understand what I was talking about when we discussed astrology, he always felt the energies of a full moon or a retrograde cycle of any given planet. “What the hell is going on out there, Kate?” he’d ask if he had a particularly intense day. He valued what I told him, often weaving it into the natural world. Particularly as the seasons changed or we entered the twice-a-year eclipse season, Steve could often identify the transits before I would simply by noticing wind and weather patterns and the behavior of others. He didn’t have the same language as me, but he listened to the natural world as a guide and teacher and connected the dots to the not-so-coincidental positions of the planets.

Speaking of transits, have you been feeling a bit stuck and sluggish in a certain area of your life since early December? Did it shift into lower gear at the beginning of January? Mars was retrograde in both Leo and Cancer and thank goodness it went direct this week. Now you can “get up and go” in the Cancer and Leo houses of your chart over the next couple of months.

But alas, on March 1, Venus will go retrograde in Aries. Giddyap for a six-week ride into re-evaluating who and what you value and the reasons you put your energy there. If Mars represents how we move in the world, Venus represents why we do what we do. Depending on where this transit takes place, you’ll find yourself moving a bit more slowly in evaluating your motivations, letting go of things that no longer serve you and waiting for more to be revealed before things can shift and move forward. It doesn’t mean life is at a standstill (planets don’t literally move backward, it just appears as if they do from an earthly perspective.)

The planets are not causal, they don’t make anything happen. It’s simply a matter of “as above, so below.” So when Venus goes retrograde on Saturday it ushers in a time when relationships may downshift, people from the past may return, how you want to spend your time, your money and your intentions may transform. It all depends on where it’s landing in your chart. No matter if you want to know or not, be patient with all things relational. Take time to re-evaluate what you value. Understand that just because something or someone is being offered to you, it doesn’t mean it’s what’s best. And as Steve would always do, take time to listen to nature.

Years ago, Steve had stopped over to kiss me good-bye and as I came out on the front porch, I saw a praying mantis crawling on his shoulder.

“Get your phone,” Steve smiled.

By the time I came back outside, the mantis had crawled up onto his ear and it looked like he was whispering words of wisdom. Steve, of course, listened intently and laughed, “Look! It’s my new best friend.” The picture remains a keepsake I treasure, a reminder of how grateful I am that we both value the very best of what Venus symbolizes — the beauty of the natural world.

Last summer as I was preparing for Steve’s celebration of life, I chose hundreds of pictures to put on memory boards. It was a difficult task and left me sobbing in my office. When I got up to take a break, I walked to the front porch and saw a green fleck on the wrought iron. Looking closer, I realized it was a baby praying mantis, just waiting for me to discover it.

I could almost hear Steve say, “Look! It’s Snow White’s Garden revealing a mini miracle.”

“Thank you, honey” I smiled. “You will always be my left-handed Scorpio nature boy…and I love you.”