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Date palms. Coachella Valley, California by Dorothea Lange 1937 LoC {{PD}}

Date palms. Coachella Valley, California by Dorothea Lange 1937 LoC {{PD}}

It seems we define things today by what they are not; from there we can see what does matter, and what we can do. Our role as an authority, and our personal power, somehow clashes with our highest values; it becomes a matter of degrees, where we try to exert ourselves and somehow sidestep transgressing in those areas we honor. Our thoughts do not support our empowerment; in fact, thinking undermines everything we thought was a given within the power picture–and that leaves movement at a frustrating impasse. Too, the social role doesn’t support our ambitions and goals, and leaves our energies split. Reaching out works no better than trying to conserve. In the end this may be a day best spent taking a neutral stance, as attempts at progress lead us into a quagmire of contrary indicators and potential regrets (Vesta contra-parallel Ceres, Jupiter contra-parallel Zeus, Merc contra-parallel Juno)

'Spielendes Mädchen' (Girl Playing), 1918, Georg Schrimpf {{PD}}

‘Spielendes Mädchen’ (Girl Playing), 1918, Georg Schrimpf {{PD}}

Today’s word image is a hand puppet discarded at the side of the road. There’s something especially depressing about a toy left behind; I always wonder if anyone noticed when it fell–and if they did, why didn’t they pick it up? It has to involve a judgment, a decision that says this isn’t worth keeping, anymore. A discarded puppet could refer to something lost, though perhaps something that needed to be lost–that is, something we’ve outgrown. Or perhaps it represents manipulation of one kind or another; whether we were the puppet or the puppet-mover, it’s only positive that we’re out of that, now.

I’m back tomorrow, the 28th. Have a great Sunday!

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