|
What has the Sybil seen the stars say
this month?
Read her oracular offerings culled from northern nights.
But remember, as at Delphi, smoke and mirrors can reflect her musings
in many interpretive directions…
Gemini
Gemini: the gift of the gab
For the sake of alliteration, one of Gemini's
several literary talents, we forego the usual form of the section
title. We could say "the art of asking", but that would
be pushing it, since Gemini never spends enough time at one thing
to make an "art" of it. What – be like Libra and
actually spend years studying one thing? Or Scorpio, and research
it to death?
Any of you reading who are aware of the furor the Taurus conjunctions
caused a decade ago may recall several predictions of The End of
the World, since the Bull has a habit of tromping on anything in
his path. Nobody, however, is worried about Gemini – what’s
a little breeze more or less in a world so full of hot air?
Gemini is the Twins, one of whom must always be hidden below in
Hades’ dark realm and the other flying high in Zeus’
open heaven. The characteristics of this first Air sign show the
same intellectual bent of the other two, but it is a rotating door
of the mind. No idea stays long enough to develop – that’s
the providence of other signs.
Mercury rules Gemini. This hermaphroditic god wears two hats: as
the visible Bearer of the Word (but not wisdom) from Zeus, and as
the invisible Guide to the Door of Hades (where he never stays).
Associated with Gemini is the third house of the Horoscope Ring,
which cloaks any planet in it with Gemini’s verbosity, love
of teaching, and penchant for riddles.
Geminis are often accused of being schizophrenic, but this is unfair.
Its duality is that of two halves making a whole, not two splitting
off. One twin refused to live without the other, so Gemini is always
striving to stay joined. The difficulty is, when the dark twin is
“out” it has no clue what the bright twin did, and vice
versa. An exuberant spirit tied to cold loneliness reflects the
reality of the planet Mercury, which always shows the same face
towards the flaring Sun. Any planet, or an ascendant, in Gemini
will aim for the high cool open spaces of spring, refusing the cold
ice that is the bottom of its fate. But refusal itself is what tips
that twin back into death.
This seesaw infuriates other signs, especially stable Earth Taurus
or moody Water Cancer, its neighbours. However, the two other Air
signs understand and accompany Gemini in its sprightly idiotic conversations.
Fire signs find Gemini entrancing, since they already know that
whatever fun you do have with a Gemini, you don’t expect consistency.
Gemini shudders in real horror at such entrapment. She meets, she
talks, she picks your brain to find out all you know – then
she'd gone, dancing away on the breeze until something new catches
her quick attention.
While she is with you, she is endlessly fascinating, since she is
quite ready to share all that she has picked up on the way to you.
Indeed, that is her role in life, she surmises: to teach those too
silly to play butterfly for themselves. But she is happy in the
light of your gaze, iridescent, shimmering, lightly touching you
with her amazing words and well-turned phrases...not her own, of
course, but you cannot know that. She picked them up along the way
like pollen, they stick to her until she touches you and then you
are bemused, seeded, open to her generous wit. Then she is gone,
and you are left in wistful gladness, wondering if she is sprite
or spirit. And you will never know, since she is too breezy for
any scientist to pin her down.
Once she was a small fuzzy sweet aimless caterpillar. Then she was
stilled by a cocoon. During that stage you might have trapped her,
before she knew freedom in flight, before she found the high breeze.
But once the air reached her, once the metamorphosis started and
she ached to struggle out, struggle high, let the wings dry –
once she soared to the treetops in all her glamorous beauty, she
was beyond the reach of the earth.
She creates newness daily, darting in a new direction, hovering
at a new flower. And each day, she convinces you as you listen to
her tale, is the best of all possible days, and given her the best
of flowers, the sweetest breeze, and the best of companions –
you, to hear her stories and share yours.
So you gab together, not knowing time or care, arrested by her beauty
as she is by yours.
She knows the tale that Gemini is twins, but she knows the truth
of that is not just the split in time between caterpillar and wings.
She wants to twin with someone who will drop his net in awe of her
beauty, who can hear her speak and be glad of her stories and her
leavings and comings. For it gives her comfort to come back to the
same one more often than not. She is no explorer, this migrating
butterfly: she prefers known paths and migratory currents. She will
go back and forth along them gladly if you are waiting for her.
She will have more to tell you, more to share, and more will to
rest and listen to your tales, if she knows you well.
Just don't ever, ever expect her to get serious. Like is too lovely
– since she doesn’t remember the darkness of the cocoon.
Or perhaps she does, and simply doesn’t want that memory to
limit her now that she has wings.
^ back to top |
|
