Comets are like cats; they have tails, and they do precisely what they want.
David H. Levy
These days, bathing one’s self in warm auras of divine radiance, transcendental love, and positive, positive, only positive energy—god forbid entertain the recessive thought—is more than commonplace, mainstream, and marketable. One might say we’re collectively heading towards a universal singularity that will transform our consciousness into pure love experience, while others will suggest that we’re looking to protect ourselves from unavoidable meaninglessness by pretending that “everything’s going to be okay,” and overcompensating for the lack of truth and understanding we feel toward the suffering of the planet.
I’m not going to pretend I know the answer, but I like to think it’s out there, waiting for us to wake up en masse and, you know, get what’s up, so we can finally start working together to make some serious jazz.
The comet ISON—so creatively named after the lab from which it came, the International Scientific Observational Network—is already making its rounds across the internet as some speculate it to shine brighter than the full moon, if at all.
The comet’s perceived survival around the sun was disputed, at first, until evidence proved it might still be somewhat intact. Traditionally, the appearance of a comet brought great transformation to civilization, signifying “God changing his mind.”
What, in your life, could possibly be changed? It’s one thing to dream, hope, and churn every squandering possibility, and quite another to locate the practical aspects of your life that may or may not be teetering on a precipice, waiting to be tipped off balance one way or another.
Comparatively, look at a forest of trees: one that is most uprooted likely falls during the next storm; out of a heard of wildebeest, the “little sick ones” will be the first to go; conversely, the healthier animals will be the first to mate; someone that has reached their whit’s end will be more aware of new and enticing opportunities. These are all examples of the obvious—particles of life that is simply asking for change. Whether that moves in the direction of life or death, joy or suffering, is of no consequence.
We could still possibly see the comet with the naked eye, until mid-January. It stays in the constellation of Sagittarius for the remainder of its effecting phase.
The winged messenger has just emerged from a murky and emotional purge of karma along the constellation of Scorpio. He’ll remain here for a few more days as he moves through the last decante, trailing the Sun and emerging from the Underworld, and the last watery retrograde of the year, carrying a torch of achieved vision. Forgive yourself as mysterious and challenging aspects of your karmic path continue to reveal themselves.
Our fiery new moon is coupled with a few revelatory asteroids, the Muses Klio and Polyhymnia. Klio masters historical accounts and documentation, while Polyhymnia—literally, many hymns—governs sacred dance, song, poetry, and general artistic worship.
With this new moon, ask yourself how you want to make history, especially through the context of art, music, and dance. The comet, regardless of whether or not it can be seen, is showering our biosphere with electromagnetic rays of some kind, or shit like that. Historically, we are in the eye of a greater storm that will most likely not be fully understood for years to come.
Most importantly, we are tasked with envisioning the new world we want our children to inhabit. That world is what will be born into fruition.