From an astrology perspective, there is only one reason people are depressed- Saturn. Saturn rules time and karma- the consequences we eventually harvest from our actions. He is the reason for the saying “the wheels of the Gods turn slowly,” because with Saturn there is always a delay between our actions and their inevitable reward or punishment.
Saturn rules everything that is old and cold, grim and dim. He rules bones and stones. When he casts his shadow over any part of our life, things get serious. Life comes to collect its debts. Or- occasionally- life may reward us for good work that previously went unrecognized. Either way, we reap what we sow.
Saturn guides us to let go of the trivial while redoubling our efforts towards work that will stand the test of time. He loves endurance, thrift and humility.
Saturn rules Saturdays and also the cold dark months of January and February. So if you would like some ideas for honoring this Saturnine time of year and turning it into a two month long party- here you go!
Stop spending money on fancy foods to tickle your palate. Saturn does not approve. Focus on simplicity and thrift. Saturnine meals include:
Stale whole wheat bread topped with crunchy peanut butter.
Beans and rice. Buy the dried beans which are cheaper. Personally, I prefer brown rice with black beans, since these are Saturn’s colors.
A potato topped with humble crumbles of meat. Potatoes are the angels of Saturn. Even if you don’t eat them, keep them around for friendship and inspiration.
Accompany your meals with cheap black coffee.
Dress in rags or work clothes. If you must dress up for work, dress somberly, like you are going to a funeral.
Wear men’s perfume. I always find this weighs down my spirit. Of course, if you are a man, Saturn would not approve of you wearing perfume at all. Put that money in the bank!
If you must listen to music, choose boring wordless music, such as classical. Or the somber sounds of celibate monks singing in Latin.
Wear brown nail polish or no polish at all. Bonus points for eschewing makeup altogether. (If you are a man, Saturn hopes this does not even need to come up!)
Spend more time around old people. Be helpful to them if you can. If they are lonely, be a friend.
If you pass a beggar, give them money. Beggars are sacred to Saturn. The point is not so much to help them, but to remind yourself that you could also fall upon hard times one day.
Do you feel depressed? No? I believe we all have a depressed person living somewhere inside, we just need to find them. Try starting your day with a frown, eyes cast downward. Connect with that heavy part of yourself.
Watch movies about old people who die or better yet watch no movies at all. Take walks through a graveyard, a sacred place for Saturn. If you like, treat yourself to a plot, both for yourself and loved ones!
Stop doing things for fun. Stop seeking happiness. Saturn does not approve. Rechannel this energy into hard work.
Buy a wall calendar once they are 50% off. At the end of each day, mark a big black X through it to remind yourself this is time you will never get back.
Spend as little money as possible. Saturn loves a penny pincher.
When you pass a person on the street, either frown or cast your sad eyes downward.
Wear a watch and glance at it frequently to remind yourself and others that time is wasting.
Make daily to do lists and complete them.
Saturn rules foresight. Take the time to imagine where your current choices are leading you. Make a 1 year, 10 year, 25+ year plan.
Find a humble looking stone lying by the side of a country road.These are called “Country Stones” and are sacred to Saturn. Carry one in your pocket.
Stop reading and use that time to work instead. Or read books that were written 100+ years ago. Or take the time to study a heavy and dry subject, such as math, geology, mineralogy etc. But please, nothing fun or trendy. And no pseudo-intellectual gems from the New York Times bestsellers list. Saturn is not impressed by fame nor by displays of intellectualism lacking true content.
Celibacy is sacred to Saturn so get as close to this ideal as possible. And for the love of God, do not pleasure yourself. Saturn has a special place in hell for masturbators.
Saturn rules the country way of life, so all country activities are approved of- cooking, sewing, raising animals, carpentry, churning butter, etc.
Stay off social media. You don’t need the stimulation or the attention. Saturn is about toiling in the shadows while others dance in the sun.
Saturn rules career ambition, so take this time to work harder and get ahead in your career.
The essence of Saturn is investing in those things which endure. Drop all relationships which will not stand the test of time, and reinvest in those which will.
Make a will.
Visit the dentist. Saturn rules teeth and nothing captures the Saturnine feeling better than visiting doctors. So visit a whole bunch of doctors if you like!
Basically just don’t do anything fun, spend as little money as possible, and work as hard as you can! When you feel like you are dying and you can’t go on, just remind yourself this is Saturn making you stronger.
Just making this list is starting to depress me… I always get so excited about boring, soul crushing Saturnine energy, but the reality is that a complete absence of levity and fun can make it hard to move at all.
Still, if you want to try being Saturnine, go for it! They say it is good for the bones!
When I don’t listen you hold a pillow over my face til I do.
That’s why I don’t think you will ever love me now- you’ll find somebody new.
And I swear I wouldn’t care so long as you felt it was wrong
to just grab me by the neck and throw me up against a wall
but when i ask you bout it you tell me that you don’t want to pop
but the crying noise just has to stop.
Sometimes I close my eyes and see a world that’s black with men as white as stars.
Just like a globe that I could shake and shake each time that things have gone too far.
Something I could hold just like a globe inside my hands
So I shake it and I shake it- oh look here comes a man
But he is trapped inside the globe- he’s only one inch high
There is no place to run and hide.
Give it just a little more time. This may only be in your mind.
There’s no way to say what is real and what is make believe you know.
Look at all the stars in the sky, girl. You could find a way to get high, girl.
You could fly away into a state of ecstasy and glee you know.
I know I will stay.
Life- lay your hand on me and guide me on my way.
I stay up late at night and make a list of ways to make you love me more.
I know it won’t succeed cause men they only love the ones they’re fighting for.
And I’d do anything on earth if you would fall in love with me
But there are things I can’t control, I don’t know what you want to see.
The only thing I know for sure is that you like to be alone
But either way, you are my home.
While living in Nashville I wrote a series of songs… 15 or so… about the Odyssey (by Homer) & this was the third one. I guess it relates to Telemachus coming into his own power & realizing how awesome he is.
On a personal level, hi! How are you doing? I am fine I suppose. Recently I have been trying to become more yellow again by sitting in front of a yellow light for an hour or so a day. It has me feeling a little out of sorts, but we will see if I can stick with it and reach the other side.
What will be on the other side? I am not quite sure, I just feel that yellow is a color I lack. While I am intelligent, I don’t feel yellow intelligent- the sort of down to earth intelligence that knows how to get from point A to point B on this space-time continuum. If you are yellow enough, the world is your oyster. And least I hope that is what I will find when I finally reach the Yellow World.
It has been impossible to write on this blog recently, because I have fallen into wife consciousness.
Around a year ago, probably due to James’s inaccessibility, I started connecting my emotions to the faceless glob of possibility known as “The Public.” I enjoyed connecting with these invisible people on an emotional level and somehow felt they were my friends.
But then, around a month ago, a change of heart caused me to seek emotional fulfillment through James instead. This only led to my disappearance as an individual. After all, James is absorbed in technical things 99% of the time. Trying to connect with him by discussing feelings & relationship issues is a recipe for disaster (although he is great at helping me solve problems that don’t involve him).
Females connect by sharing negative feelings & problems. Men interpret this as criticism or a demand to fix something. So you open yourself up to receive empathy but instead get anger and defensiveness. Now you feel more needy and alone than before which makes you try still harder to connect. Before long it turns into a degenerative cycle with all your energy going into a circuit that returns pain.
Whereas with The Public, I can be more real. I can share feelings and always receive soft love in return- even if only in my imagination. The public is the moon- gooey, silver, magical, reflecting you back to yourself until you feel you exist.
But still- the thing about me is I am REALLY into being a wife. It is an unhealthy obsession. I don’t know how to give up on having a perfect ultimate connection and settle for something brisk, sporty and casual. But when you are too idealistic, it causes things to crash.
Plus, I just feel guilty about investing myself emotionally in any other direction. I feel guilty seeking fulfillment through writing a blog post or a song. It feels like I am giving up on love.
And wife consciousness makes it hard to express yourself anyway. While I am ok with making myself look bad- I sort of expect it- the idea of reflecting negatively on James feels like committing triple homicide.
And realistically there is little you can say beyond “Everything is Wonderful! I am so happy!” that doesn’t potentially cloud your husband’s reputation. If you say “Nice dicks, boys!” that could reflect badly on him. If you say “I hate my life- I am so miserable.” that could reflect badly on him. If you say “I love idiots!” that could reflect badly on him.
So I really don’t know what to do. As an artist, I have to straddle the crack between Stepford Julien & being real. Of course, James says he doesn’t want me to make him look good- he doesn’t care about that- but this is hard for me to believe. Making men look good is the whole reason society is fake, isn’t it?
If it was just women, we would be talking about our insecurities & failures all the time, but men- being soldiers- don’t do that. And so women- caring about men- become fake as a way of protecting them. That is why there are only Stepford *wives* & no Stepford singles.
If I was single, I could be transparent, but since I am married I must be opaque, like men are. I WANT to be opaque and fake to make James look good. As an expression of love. But I also need the moon juice that comes from transparency.
Even just writing this could make James look bad.
There is no way out.
I am doomed.
Ps. I hope I am making sense & there aren’t too manny spelling errors. My brain is pretty tired, due to the new dog, Patton, waking me up in the morning, while James’s schedule keeps me up into the wee hours of the night.
Originally the chorus was “I feel you growing like a lamp behind me,” but then I got paranoid that lamp could have some alternate sexual meaning, as 90% of words seem to, so I changed it to Light, just to be safe. No one will read anything seedy into pure, disembodied Light.
Open the shade- I know what is coming
The stars, the sky, the moon- they are all watching
Kidneys hurt- too hard to stand
Hello floor- it’s me again.
Down on the floor- I see him beside
His golden eyes- they shine they guide.
He can’t touch; he can’t do nothing to save.
Those are the rules and he is just a slave.
Give it just a little more time- I’ll know you’ll save me.
Though you are not my man and I’m not your baby.
Give it just a little more time- I know you’ll find me.
I feel you growing like a lamp behind me.
He is silent, he is strong and standing in his square
A pane of glass between us and his body made of air
Sometimes I will slump down on that glass and I will breath him
Till I’m weak and I am crying from believing that I need him.
He says- Stand up on your legs. Oh, no, no, no- I am too weak
And if I don’t crumble like a slut who will be there for me?
Because half of all these days I can’t remember who I am
I just look around and grab onto the first hand that I can.
Give it just a little more time, I’ll know you’ll save me
Though you are not my man and I’m not your baby
Give you just a little more time, I know you’ll find me
I feel you drawing like a light behind me.
When God is your witness please say you will vouch for me
No no not to say that I was good, nor that I tried to be
But please tell him that my leaves reached up like arms towards his sky
Tell him that my roots would suck so hard they made the earth grow dry.
Give it just a little more time, I’ll know you’ll save me
Though you are not my man and I’m not your baby
Give you just a little more time I know you’ll find me
I feel you drawing like a light behind me.
Well, I have explained this before, but I wrote this song while living in Nashville. My rule at the time was that every single song must have “making love” in the chorus. It started because I found those words somewhat icky, which then made me strangely attracted to using them.
Regardless of how it began, once you use words enough, all of their old connotations fall away & new ones develop which are personal to you.
It’s a bright blue day, it’s a horses’ parade, It’s the very first day of spring. And the men are tip tapping to the steeple bells as they shine through a golden ring.
And the ladies are swaying and they’re dancing and playing with their hair so long and gold, But every time a pony shakes his mane I grow cold.
You offer up a ribbon for my hair; I give you a frown and a shrug. Oh what about me? I also wanted to make love.
A pole is painted in bright red stripes, A tent in stripes of blue, And the horses got pompoms in their hair and shiny saddles too.
And every lady wears a little bouquet that was picked by a little man. But my daisies are crushed beneath the pony feet into the sand.
I need to find me a mountain so I can rise high above… Oh what about me? I also wanted to make love.
You wear a great big top hat, You ride a great big horse. You got a knack for politics and muscular discourse.
You got no need for You don’t believe in prophecy. You got no use for trifles, You don’t need me.
So put away the pompoms and the polka dots. Put away the big parade. All the men dressed up like fairies, cause fairies ain’t welcome here anyway.
Small things, little things, odd things, pretty things, All the theater and display, Cause you don’t like, don’t like, really don’t like fairies anyway.
You’re going down to the valley so low, I’m gonna walk high above. Oh what about me? I also wanted to make love.