Micro and Macro Cosmic Mayhem

If all the stars align…

Then what? It will all make sense? We will recognize the master constellation of meaning? Everything will be okay? Our heart’s desires met? What?

The expression gets a lot of airplay and there is always a master plan attached to the end. Like the colorful part of kite that we can visualize but is not yet real.

We run with the string thinking our manifesting thoughts, cheering the universe on to support our vision, seeing what we know will one day be there.

It is the ideal virtual reality.

If all the stars align we will be in Rio for New Year’s Eve. Be interviewed on NPR to talk about the book launch. Secure that full-boat scholarship to Miami School of Music. The cancer will go into remission.

No one really talks about the stellar traffic jam that leaves you in a holding pattern for years or the intergalactic head on collision with seemingly insurmountable roadblocks.

When the stars don’t align.

Because sometimes they don’t.

It leaves us feeling terribly confused, especially in a culture that makes it seem like we somehow did not run for long enough with the string, or manifest with clear enough intentions or trust enough in the universe to support us.

It feels unnerving and unmooring, like we have somehow missed something vital to our life plan– to our ultimate purpose here on the planet.

And sometimes when the stars look as if they’ve gone quite out of their way to unalign, they are more aligned than we could possibly imagine.

We just don’t know until later.

It is hard to read the cosmic blueprints from our earthly perspective.

Hard to maintain the faith with all our human fears.

And then there is that odd crossroads where we aren’t really even sure what all our stars aligning would look like.

It must seem absurd. Especially for people, who like me, could not be luckier in regards to a miraculous alignment of home, family, husband, health and security.

But abundant gratitude cannot bail you out.

It is a gravitational soul pull.

It does not speak English. Well, at least mine doesn’t. It speaks in cryptic images, details from nature, tight muscles, extreme cravings. And btw, these messages do not come equipped with a Google translation application.

So, we are on our own to figure them out.

To decide whether we are hearing what we want to hear or something more profound. We know when we get it, because there is a deep settling, like a seed that has finally found the soil in needs to take root.

It feels cosmic and small and not at all virtual.