Intersections of Fate

Her breast is reflecting light but it looked nothing like the star. It wasn't half as bright.

Yes I am a mystic, but I'm also a scientist, which is how I found myself in front of the Capitol today, moving from spot to spot, trying to find the reflection I saw the other day from one of the stars on the statue of Freedom's crown. Ah. To no avail.

Brother Sun made himself scarce, ducking behind the clouds as they passed through. The sky filled and emptied several times while I was out. It was very dramatic. They were ghostbuster style clouds, roiling and sculptural, greenish. They were cinematic.

Today was not the best day to try replicating the curious sight of the lit up star. Surely I'll be able to repeat the moment of the vision, on a clear day, yes?

Across the street, the scene in front of the Supreme Court was calm in spite of all the people. This is a big moment historically. I expected there to be a lot more energy down there than there was. People were polite, smiling and friendly, no matter what the sign said that they were holding. The sky was completely crazy, but at ground level, all was placid and quiet.

Anyone who knows anything about me knows very well that I think preventing people who love each other from marrying is horseshit. Gender schmender.

Once upon a time I would have tried to work the energy in some way. Lord knows, I used to try. I've worked magic all over this city - every bit of it in vain or worse. After a series of magical mishaps over a period of years, it finally dawned on me that friends who had lived here a long time knew what they were doing when they explained they never do magic in the District. The way this city was designed, the Masonic umph the founding fathers put into the layout of the streets, the orientation of the major buildings and such, all the magic they did within and around the cornerstones of the buildings, and the standing stones around the periphery of the district, is easily palpable today. Civil War battlefields circle the city. There are ghosts everywhere, soldiers mostly but also famous figures like Walt Whitman and the presidents. There are horse ghosts. There are even tree ghosts. For heaven's sake.

The energy of Washington DC is complicated, bewildering, in part because of the lingering magic of our founding fathers. It's no wonder people come here all worked up about how they're going to change the world, but once they get here, well my goodness, as often as not, they fall flat on their faces. The founding fathers' Masonic conjuring packs a wallop, makes a mockery of any attempt to change the flow. I learned the hard way but the good thing is, I did learn. Now I'm one of the people who has lived here a long time who never does magic in the District. Oh yeah.

But I am a shaman. Any time I come across a wavelength that seems beneficial, healing or joyful, I dance with that wavelength. I was unable to come into contact with a suitable wavelength today. In situations that involve this much energy, when so much is at stake, the best thing I can do is breathe, be as grounded as possible, and keep an open mind.

I'm trying. May I succeed! Shalom.