Showing posts with label lake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lake. Show all posts

Saturday, 23 February 2013

I am water.


So. I got told I was water.  I stuck out my lip and pouted, feeling somewhat offended. Watery? Not terribly exciting, is it? I mean, it’s a bit like being told you’re a pig in the Chinese year thingy – when really you wanna be a dragon or a snake or a tiger or…anything really but just not a solid old pig.  And, well, water is so...wet.  

Water? WATER? I mean, I’m a Capricorn, for heaven’s sake. Well, not so heavenly. Cardinal Earth. Okay, so the Capricorn goat is a sea goat. Okay okay, it’s half a fish. But I can just about handle that.  Believe it or not, I can keep my feet on the ground. Sometimes.  And an astrologer once stared at my chart in amazement and said it was “unusual”.

Apparently I have five planets in Sagittarius.  Which could explain my wanderlust (wonderlust?) I suppose – and the odd impulsive ‘slash and burn’ feelings that rise up from time to time.  But then again, my moon is in Pisces.  And they (the infamous They) often say that one's moon sign is more telling than one’s sun sign.  And Pisces, of course, is very very watery. Downright fishy.

And then, I pondered, in the I Ching, I appear always as Tui, the Lake, the youngest daughter (as indeed I am). And “many strange things can push up from the depth of the lake, whose surface lies so quiet” (Diana ffarington Hook).
Dead Moon I Ching...

And, the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was probably true. This water thingy.  Cos, really, I’m more than fluid.  My ego boundaries are so rubbish, so pathetically permeable, that I can become almost anyone, anything. Like the robots in Terminator – but without the knife-hand things.  I talk to someone and I pick up their intonation, their speech patterns. I read a book and the author’s voice often infects my own writing.  I can nearly always see the other point of view – no matter how strange or odd it might seem. I can put myself into nearly anyone’s shoes and not just walk in them but do a marathon.  I’m rubbish in debates as I can always play devil’s advocate.  And other people are all so certain, so sure, so knowing of who they are and for what they stand and in what they believe. And that makes me feel...if not watery, then at least amorphous.   

Do I really have no shape of my own?  Do I just spread out, filling the container into which I’m placed? Do I exist only to show other people their reflection in my glassy surface? 

Sometimes I feel so very unreal.  J

And you? Which element describes you? Summons you? Truthfully. In(tui)tively.