Lauren LaRocca

Lauren LaRocca

Astrologer Herbalist

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Category: human design

September 12, 2020September 12, 2020 Flowers in the House

Astrology, fate, and free will

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ABOUT A DREAM :: Last night, I dreamt that I was back on the East Coast, riding in the passenger seat of a car with a dear friend from back home, just driving somewhere around Keedysville/Antietam, those gorgeous back roads, and everything was that rich, vivid, spring green, the trees and fields and grass, and the bright yellow forsythia. I remember having these same nostalgic thoughts last springtime while in the desert. Here, the changes to the landscape are so subtle and gradual. There is not that instant pop. The green of chamisa and broomweed and yucca and cholla cactus changes only a few hues from winter to spring. In the dream, I was soaking it all in. The clouds were the kind that appear after a thunderstorm rolls through, leaving its imprint of black and blue moving fast across the sky. When I woke and made my morning tea this morning, I looked out my kitchen window to see two bright yellow dandelions! I very rarely see dandelions here, oddly enough. They are that alive and pulsating yellow of the forsythia of my dream. I think it was a little gift from the fairies.
I’m old. And I like it. 🖤
If you stay in the city, the job, the relationship, etc. because it seems easier—if you stay because the other option seems too difficult—that staying is actually the thing that’s going to make your life even harder. That’s the irony. It’s a catch 22. The thing that seems hard is actually going to be easier, and the Universe is gonna support you if you make that move that you’re getting nudged to make.
When the world “stopped” in 2020, it felt like stepping out of time for a bit to take inventory, see where I was out of alignment with myself, think more about how I spend my time and how I most want to spend it. But when our world stopped, the natural world didn’t. One huge blessing of this year has been my ability to experience all four seasons here so intimately during my first cycle around the sun in New Mexico ... learning the desert plants and when they bloom and the migration of cranes that perch on roofs, learning monsoon season, seeing the wildfires of late summer and the western skies shrouded in smoke, seeing the mountains dusted in snow and change colors depending on the sky and light of day—from gray to deep purple, brown, and pink. The New Mexico landscape is like a prayer in motion, magic every time I stop to look and sink into it.
It’s not often that I write about depression—or being depressed—because when I am in this state, the last thing I want to do is … anything. Sometimes just a little nudge though, a small thought, can subtly shift me back toward the land of the living. Tonight, after sitting on my couch and staring at the wall for five or six hours, that thought was, “I miss me when I’m gone.” It was reason enough to write this, to write that down. I miss experiencing that other girl who lives inside of me but goes dormant every so often. I also accept everything, every mood and mental state, as part of the package, part of this human existence in this vehicle I came in. Still, I think, if I could just remember her long enough—the electricity, the creative surges, the love—eventually we’ll merge again.
"I wandered everywhere, through cities and countries wide. And everywhere I went, the world was on my side." —Roman Payne
GOING INTO THE WOMB OF CREATION. BE BACK SOON.
With tumbleweed

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