Alrighty. The Bingle Report.
Today is officially our Full Moon, but yesterday the fun began for me. Not that I thought it would be fun at first. No at first I let my prejudices get the best of me and I hung back, wary, watching to see what would happen and who would show up.
But first a word or two of clarification, which I'll throw in to keep me honest. It's important because it also relates to my story.
The "bingle" I wrote about was wrongfully attributed as an aspect between Mars and Saturn, when in fact that aspect was working as a sextile, ie: the sparkle aspect (my words). That's a great aspect, too, but different and more grounded --like greasing the gears for maximum function. The true "bingle" was in aspect from the South Node in Cancer (old habits, feelings, places and people) to the Full Moon in Virgo. Full moons give us an exteriorization (or "outs") whatever's been brewing that part of your brain/world, we get to see in ourselves or others what's hanging out there. Cancer "rules" the Moon, so we have a double Moon theme (South Node in Cancer/Virgo Full Moon) of family, feelings, home life and intuitive, nurturing habits. With the Bingle in play with the Moon, we can pluck (if we want) the fruit of special insight about our inherited habits, and the things that we "know" feel good and wholesome to us --without explaining why.
And now I continue with the report.
A couple of days ago I got a call from a friend reminding me I'd agreed to do this Saturday event with her new business. I don't remember why I said I'd do it except that I do like her and think [know] she's the real deal and this is her first big event, but God help me, she's named it "Super Psychic Saturday" and the last thing I've ever wanted to be associated with was ANYTHING with the word "psychic" involved. So I probably agreed to the thing and then forgot it about it for the sake of my own mental health.
(Yes, I am of the Pluto in Virgo generation and my ninth house placement --religion-- {{shudders}} at the thought of false prophets. I offer this with some irony as I do study astrology and most folks think that's bunk, too. But onward...)
I arrived yesterday morning with a hat full of wariness. I had thought up a couple of approaches I could take, but a good astrological consultation is not best suited to a 30 minute spot reading so I wondered how it'd go. We were assigned spots and set up our tables. I was in a quiet area next to an older German woman who said she did dream analysis and past life readings and a young man who read tarot cards. And I thought, here we are, a bunch of side-show freaks all under one tent: hoo-rah.
At first it was slow. We weren't supposed to get up and chat with one another --only the clients-- but it was slow and we chatted anyway. The young man had only done readings for free and this was his first experience working a public event. The older German woman was warm, a little shy, but I felt she was a very kind person. I asked her if she gardened; she said yes. We talked about gardening, something I've always tried but failed at in Oklahoma soil. We broke up. A few visitors flitted around my table, took some of my cards, chatted, but no readings --yet.
And then I remembered. The German woman was Ingrid, a lady who was in my first class, my very first presentation on astrology. She had asked that I call her, but I didn't. Dear, lord. And that was a year ago. I abandoned my post and marched right over to apologize. "Oh! I wondered if you would recognize me. Yes, yes. That was me." She smiled and laughed. "I read your website all the time." Apology accepted. We talked a bit more, a little bit about astrology (she knows more than the average bear), how she did her work. I liked her and felt very bad that I hadn't called. We planned to fix that oversight.
Two hours and two clients (and a few chatters) later, I was sitting at Ingrid's table. (This is the beginning of the bingle.) I had few things on my mind and I know this year is about turning corners (many) for me. I want to do it all differently --better-- and set aside some old fears that have hindered me in the past. I know the time to do it is now, but I'm missing a little texture in this picture: What do I need to know?
She held my hands and very quickly I felt a mild warmth run down my spine. I thought, "data upload". Yes, very sci-fi, but really I think that's what she was doing --DNA upload. It wasn't unpleasant or unnerving; I just knew what it was about.
And soon after she was telling me about Italy. That was a surprise. And of my life as the eldest of five children, and that I was bright and lively and loved to help my mother. And the centerpiece of my young life was the community oven where women and families would come to bake cakes and bread, and I was very very good at my work there and known for it. I loved animals and I loved to climb the olive trees, and my favorite pet was a black and white dog. I was a very happy person and cherished by my family. Food, and big dinners and wine and laughter were very much abundant in my life. (Sounds Italian, alright.) But the big community oven and the people who gathered there was the center of my world as a daughter and a mother. My husband died before I did and I only had one daughter, but she had many children and I became the matriarch of a long line of strong women.
There were other lives before and after, many of which were not this happy. We didn't talk about those and I didn't ask. I believe that the Universe hands us information on a 'need to know' basis. I didn't need to know about those experiences; this was the one that counted right now.
The funny thing is, some of the happiest times in my life have been in big church kitchens years ago when I volunteered in a youth leadership organization. The kitchen work was usually run by a woman, the eldest of eight kids, who knew bread. I mean, seriously baked. And we pumped out hundreds and hundreds of from scratch dinner rolls and pies and loaves of bread and kolaches and the best cinnamon rolls you ever put in your mouth...all to feed about a hundred hungry teenagers three times a day for three days. No one ever ever went hungry when Coleen ran the kitchen. No one. I did a lot of work with that group and was eventually asked to become Lay Director (but didn't --different story), but the kitchen work was the heart of that operation and I loved every moment I got to be there.
Ingrid reminded me how soul-deep my love is for food and people together. Clearly I have other passions as well, but this story of Italy does ring very true to me. The last house I lived in was bought for the sake of the kitchen. Sadly, my dream of having it full of friends never materialized in the way I had hoped. But I still love hanging out with people in a kitchen and I love loving my family and friends through food and wine and good stories. This is a personal joy, not a professional calling; but already in the new incarnation of this blog I plan to include recipes. (You wonder how that works, eh?) Hearing Ingrid's images was a surprise, but a joyful one. And a confirmation, of sorts: when she was five, my daughter told me she knew me a long time ago, but she didn't know Daddy. It was sort of startling, and when I tried to associate it with her infancy and our bond then, she said no, it wasn't then. So I'm letting that stand; we've know each other for a long, long time it seems.
By the way, Virgo (the sign of this full moon) is the sign associated with grain --and by extension, bread --and by extention, "our daily bread" --and by extension, what we do to earn our "bread" (money), and by extension, what nourishes us --which could only be that which is wholesome. When we're not nourished to whole thing's off.
So here we have a Cancer South Node (waaaayyyy South) past history story coming through a Virgo Moon (bread baking mom) opposed Pisces (the DNA soup) revelation. That's the way the bingle worked out for me.
Speaking of food --I have some granola in the over that needs stirring, so I'm off. Next up? The Headwomen (no this day isn't over yet!).
Photos: community bakeries/ovens from around the world.
