Today, March 6, we welcome the New Moon in the mutable water
sign of Pisces, the non-dual Fishes. It’s a powerful lunation, and many of us have
been feeling the oceanic overwhelm tendencies. Neptune-Poseidon, ruler of
Pisces, is conjunct this New Moon, enhancing the depths. In addition, Uranus is
changing signs today, entering Taurus for a seven-year sojourn. And, last but
not least, Mercury is doing his retrograde dance beginning today and lasting
until March 28th, 2019.
If you’re feeling a bit like you’re floating down a stream
with the sounds of a rushing waterfall the size of Niagara Falls up ahead,
without a raft, let alone an oar, you’re not alone.
There is not much we can control right now. Of course, that’s
always the case from the point of view of the Infinite. But this level of
surrender in this time of Pisces is felt deeply on an embodied level. Your Soul
is in charge. Not your separate volition.
Perhaps we catch sight of a branch jutting into the stream
from the riverbank. We grab hold of it and stay afloat to catch our breath, hauling
ourselves out of the turbulence in order to reach a new shore. One we’ve never
experienced before. It’s all undiscovered terrain. And we are going to acquire new
tools and techniques to navigate. It’s all fresh, unknown territory.
The Space Between is
that time on the downstream float, where we have no idea what the outcome will
be, or where Life’s River is leading us. How we make use of that time makes
all the difference in the world. Will we endure it? Will we panic, fret, bemoan
our fate? Or will we trust, breathe, even enjoy? This is the gap between
actions, thoughts, projects, outcomes, directions.
We’re so conditioned in our modern culture to do, do, do,
that when we are in the Space Between, we fear – am I wasting time? If I float,
will I be sideswiped by the unexpected? Must I continue to brace, to always be
prepared? We forget that cultivating empty space is essential in the art of
living. How else are we to attract that original thought to emerge from the
Ground of Being? We need time – and space – to hear, and listen, to the muse!
Last weekend, my partner and I visited the San Francisco
Museum of Modern Art in order to check out a Paul Klee exhibit. Just before I
left the museum, we reviewed the museum map to see what else was on display. We
saw a listing, “Vija Celmins: To Fix the Image in Memory,” ending March 31, 2019. The tag line, “Stop, Look, and
See,” caught my eye. We wandered over to check it out, and were both pleasantly
surprised. It was the best contemporary art collection I’d seen in a long time.
Vija Celmins (b. 1938) is a Latvian-American artist whose
family escaped the Soviet occupation during WWII, first taking refuge in
Germany and ultimately the United States. She settled in Southern California
and ultimately in NYC. Having very little possessions during her art schooling
at UCLA, she learned to paint only that
which was in the space right in front of her: a hot plate, a table fan, a
lamp, a space heater.
Eventually, she became transfixed with black and white
seascape drawings, minutely recreating open ocean waves from intricate photos
of waves, over and over again. Using only a graphite pencil on paper, Vija
insisted on going into finer and finer depths, to perfect what she saw in her
mind’s eye “to fix the image in memory.” The level of detail of her waves is
stupendous.
Untitled (Regular Desert), Vija Celmins 1973 |
Eventually, Vija discovered the landscape of the deserts,
and repeated the effort to draw the rocky desert floor, again and again, finer
and finer down to the tiniest grains of sand. Each individual rock was
recreated, never stopping until the scene neared perfection. Then, she turned
to the black night sky, the stars, and with her pencil and paper, revealed the
cosmos over and over and over again.
Untitled (Cassiopeia), Vija Celmins 1973 |
The artist's work is stunning, inspiring, and instructive. Can you imagine
the hours upon hours upon hours it would take to depict the tiniest rock in the
desert, the placement of a star in the night sky, the protrusion of a single
lapping wave on the ocean?
To an artist self,
what is time? And even more important, is this a waste of time? Vija has dedicated her entire life to exploring what
is in the space, in the finest detail. When we remove the judgement of time,
the illusion of needing to prepare for a future, to to produce, be productive,
we are left with the Now. Pure Presence.
And it is art that plants us firmly in that Now. Writing,
music, drawing; poetry, dance, cooking; lovemaking, gardening, Nature-walking –
it is art created in the Space Between. This is where the magic lives.
The Space where
Nothing and Everything Occurs
I’m reminded of the Christopher Nolan movie Inception (2010), with Leo DeCaprio and Co., in which the dream architects
construct a dream within a dream with a dream-scape. The film’s crescendo
extends a few seconds into a several minutes.
A van containing the sleeping heroes
lurches backwards off a bridge into a river. Layers upon layers of happenings
are occurring simultaneously, down to the micro-minutia, in the deepest seas of
the unconscious. Time is slowed down almost to a halt, while the other members
of the team figure out a way to wake up the dreamer to save the heroes’ lives. Invoking
The Space Between.
When things feel they are dangerously speeding ahead, we can
find time by taking a breath. We can not only slow time, we can stop it, by instantaneously
and spontaneously dropping into the Now. The Now is centered in the belly, the
heart, the seat of the soul, the Ground of Being. This is the space and the
place where Nothing and Everything occurs all at once.
When there is the pause between jobs, projects, duties,
tasks, busy-ness, with our action-addicted, extrovert-biased society, we get
antsy. The Unknown, the Void – what to do? I’m nervous! Let me reach for a
drink, a smoke, a TV show to binge watch, a chocolate bar. Let me make another
plan, fill up the space! The Space must be contained lest I lose my identity,
sense of Self! Right?
It is at these times we can experiment with living sans
identification. Floating, flowing. Allowing, seeing, witnessing. What. Arises.
Next.
Never fear. Something
will happen. And you’ll notice, it is exactly perfect.
If you’re experiencing anxiety, perhaps that is exactly what
is also meant to arise. Perhaps it’s okay to have an “off day” or three, while something
New is being borne.
It is in the
discomfort of the Space Between that genius flashes of insight, life-changing,
often emerge.
Recently, I was deeply disturbed about a project I needed to quit
that involved a great deal of responsibility and other people. I went to the
seaside to contemplate in Nature, no distractions. Boy, did I have a couple of
restless nights as my psyche wrestled with the issue. No fun! But after three
days in my hellish “vision quest,” I woke up calmly on the final morning, and
drafted a resignation letter to leave the project.
Instantly, I began feeling
better. Heart rate dropping, irritability diminishing. I knew what I needed to
do. It’s been a lifelong practice of learning to disappoint other people to be
true to myself. I have the tools and the courage to do it, when necessary. But
it required that discomfort in the liminal space, the Unknown, to have my
psyche work out the issue.
Remember, discomfort does not automatically imply you are
doing something wrong. Sometimes, sitting, waiting, experiencing without knowledge
of goal or intended outcome, is exactly what is needed.
At this time of the New Moon in Pisces, in which the known
and the unknown ebb back and forth like waves on the open ocean, give yourself
time to float. Step into the Space Between, the Now, and allow the miracle to
emerge.
A Sunday at SF MOMA |
Erin Reese is an author, spiritual guide, astrologer, and modern psychic reader based in the San Francisco Bay Area. She works with clients all over the world. For readings and spiritual counseling by Skype, phone or email, contact her directly. She can be reached at erin@erinreese.com.
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