Oh Mercury, sitting in my 7th house, sitting in my shadow. You activate around others, around partners. But I need you when I call you. Can I be my own other? Can I be my own partner? You sit there in steady-as-she-goes Taurus, whispering visions of beauty in my ear – but not allowing them to pour from my mouth – somehow both calming & teasing my solar Gem tendencies. I must swallow all your tasty morsels, sharing your sweets with only my sweetheart. I can’t live like this.
I can’t live for only one other. I live for myself. And all others are a part of the one. I love them, but I do not live for them. Oh Mercury, let’s make our own partnership. Let’s build our bond. When I integrate my shadow, I’m confident you will be there. I’m confident we will dance. Once you’re permanently housed in my throat, your nectar ever-seeping from my lips and fingertips, then our every movement will be the fluid step of a grand dance. I can spread my web where ever I desire, not just in this dreamscape of duality.
Parker’s comment on Mercury aspecting Pluto: “If Mercury and Pluto are personal planets, the need to explore the self will be just as powerful as with the conjunction, but a result may be more easily achieved.” Mercury and Pluto are my ruling planets. And they’re opposed. And I love them both dearly. Their conversation fuels my introspective Cap Moon, who sits in fluid aspect to both, absorbing all their juicy dialogue.
The dialectic is frustrating, though. It’s like tumbling down a mountain, rolling rolling, head over feet – I find myself, I lose myself, I find myself, I lose myself. I know my self, I re-invent myself, I know myself, I destroy that self.
Thankfully, everything is relative. Mercury & Pluto have taught me that creation and destruction are the same thing from different perspectives. I am just as much the same as I am different, but I would like to be just as much whole as I am fragmented.