Feeling Adrift in an Empty Nest
Updated: Sep 20, 2021
My nest is empty and I’m grasping like a drowning person at anything that will tether me to a sense of stability and meaningful purpose.
Some of my handholds are helpful and others are desperate (and wrong-headed) attempts to get solid ground under my feet.
The helpful ones:
Reading: Henry James gave Edith Wharton this advice when she was in a moment of worry, indecision and uncertainty: “I am still moved to say ‘Don’t conclude!’ Some light will still absolutely come to you - I believe - though I can’t pretend to say what it conceivably may be. Anything is more credible - conceivable - than a mere inhuman plan… Only sit tight yourself & go through the movements of life. That keeps up our connection with life - I mean of the immediate & apparent life… Live it all through, every inch of it - out of it something valuable will come…”
Contemplating my chart: with Gemini rising, I get my act together by thinking, learning, talking, listening, letting curiosity guide me (perhaps to a long-term aim, a.k.a an Arbitrary Stupid Goal); noting my 3rd house South Node in Cancer, I must beware of simply replicating with a difference my role as busy caretaker (as when I contemplate applying for office administrator jobs that are the equivalent of being a den mother - not a bad fit for everyone, but a karmic habit I’m trying to break.)
taking the next step that lights me up
Self-compassion because it’s really easy to beat myself up for not being ready for this moment that was absolutely predictable
A Jill Badonsky Kaizen Muse Creativity Coaching meditation when I think I’ve arrived at a perfect solution that must be acted on immediately if not yesterday (a sure sign that I’m hurrying to something that feels safe): I identify my options, close my eyes and imagine the future me who has taken option A, option B and option C (if there is one). The visual of what that future me looks like is usually a very clear and obvious indicator of which is the best idea.
A look at my transits and progressions and solar arcs: Transiting Saturn opposite my Leo moon is asking that I mature my heart, taking seriously its longing for self-expressive communication, by doing something daunting, unconventional to expand my boundaries.
I'm listing these helpful tools so I remember them when my desperate desire for certainty and safety kicks into high-gear (several times daily) and I begin casting about for, as Henry James wrote, "a mere inhuman plan."