I pressure-washed the porch a couple of days ago—this doesn't have anything to do with Aquarius--but wait, I'm getting to it. I was taking advantage of a hot day to live in the spray of cold water. The weather turned cold the next day. Many things want to be obstinate these days—including a spider web covered with dirt that the dogs had stirred up.
I hit that spider web with a force of water that had stripped paint. I must have hit that web fifty times, while it held tight, spun, and laughed at me.
I finally got it down with the broom. That shows the strength of a spider’s glue and web. Its web is stronger than steel.
But while I was standing there spraying that web, with it dancing and laughing, I thought of my school teacher who told us that little bitty river you can see from the rim of the Grand Canyon, some 4,800 feet below (almost a mile), that slowly over the millennia, dug the canyon.
Right. It must have been a bigger river than it is now. And I don’t have a millennium to force that spider web down with this sprayer.
When I heard Archaeologist Graham Hancock explain his theory that the melting of the ice age caused the great lakes to overflow and water to rush down the Colorado River channel, carving the canyon, I thought that made sense. However, the water didn’t jump from the other states to get there. Wikipedia says there was also seismic activity, as the plateau had shifted.
Water was certainly shaping Earth's topography. It dug the Grand Canyon through soft sandstone and forged its way in Oregon through basalt to form the Columbia River gorge. Geologists now believe that when the ice age melted, so much water broke free and rushed toward the ocean, that it left the Columbia River Gorge behind. There was once a land bridge across the river, the Bridge of the Gods, that had been there so long a forest was growing on its top. Probably a landslide had slid into the river. The river’s current eventually carved a channel through that earthen plug, forming a bridge. That allowed people living on either side of the river to cross. The bridge's collapse broke that free exchange. Perhaps it made canoes a valuable commodity.
This is a Segway, the way conversations go, bouncing here and there. After I told my daughter I was pressure washing the porch, she told me that the Age of Aquarius was here—it’s all about water, isn’t it?
“Well, that explains what is happening.” I texted her after I had thought about how the dawning of the age of Aquarius had finally arrived.
I had been wondering ever since we sang that song about the dawning of an age, about when the sunlight would come bursting through. I believed it would be the age of enlightenment. If it is here now, then we are in the turbulence of it, like the sea gently rolling out, while a rogue wave comes galloping in, and we are caught in the clash.
Each astrological age lasts an average of 2,160 years, taking 25,800 years to complete its cycle through the 12 Zodiac houses. The birth of Jesus heralded in the Age of Pisces, with its symbol of the fish, and with that came the rise of world religions and a focus on a messiah, salvation and martyrdom.
With Aquarius, it will be less about what happens after we die and more about improving life on Earth.
A Gnostic philosopher said the Age of Aquarius began on February 4, 1962. Generally, however, most astrologers believe that there is no set date when, “Boom,” it’s here. It will come prancing in on its own sweet time.
Over the years, I thought that the Age of Aquarius would be an age of spiritual connection, a honing of one’s intuition, and an understanding of how we are all connected. It will be a time when we realize that we are responsible for the future of the planet and for each other.
You can see how that would enrage the people who want power, control, and wealth.
Now I find that the Age of Aquarius is ruled by Uranus—the planet of rebellion. While Aquarius is here to challenge, to disrupt, and to inspire, it is also met with a destructive spirit, which is represented by a malignant mentality and an angry, evil mind.
I feel that is happening now. And since Uranus is about rebellion, revolution, and all things unconventional, it is no surprise that the Age of Aquarius is all about shaking up the status quo.
With a shake-up comes a desire to move backward to a time that might not be good, but it is familiar. There is a need to hold on, to resist change, to lie and cheat with the determination of winning at all costs, and like lemmings rushing into the sea, many of us will frantically paddle upstream until we are exhausted.
And remember, power will hold on with deadly force, and a failing politician needs a war.
Here comes the good part:
For gentle hearts who embrace the future with hope and confidence: manifestations will happen more quickly. They will learn to trust their heart and hone their intuition. They will learn that they, like Dorothy of the Wizard of Oz, had the power all along, they just didn’t know they did, and that they can answer the question Aquarius asks of them: “Who are you, when no one tells you who to be?”
They will find that leaders are redundant and that their fellow inhabitants are really good people, ones they want to work with to preserve the earth and improve all of our lives.
Wikipedia tells us that technology will leap forward, social progress will advance, and there will be a growing focus on community and the greater good.
“Forget about rigid hierarchies and old-school institutions. Aquarius is here to decentralize power and to encourage collaboration and equality. “
“Expect to see a rise in grassroots movements, innovative solutions to global problems, and a push for more humanitarian approaches to everything from politics to business. Aquarius energy is all about breaking free from tradition, embracing the new, and thinking outside the box. This is the age where science fiction could start to look like reality, as advancements in technology and society come together to create a future that’s both exciting and unpredictable.”
And I thought I was going to move into the forest and live off the land.
Think again.
We can do it. It’s scary but doable.
We are tempered like the urns we have been using to carry water. They have been put through the fire a half dozen times, as have we who are carrying them.