By Amanda Moreno

I’m in the process of reflecting on the incredible year that has been 2014, and I have to say I’m hesitant to put things into words at this point. Although I’ve been writing about much of the restructuring and growth in this forum, it still feels too tender to be concretized by words.

Photo by graywacke/A Landing a Day

I’ve spent time this week going through my journals from this year, specifically the 40 or so pages from my five weeks spent immersed in ‘the work’ while in Florida. These reflections as well as a whole bunch of synchronicities and the cards in my new tarot deck (side note: after four months of searching, I finally found a deck that gave me that love-at-first-sight glow of knowing!) have been echoing one theme: major rebirth. An entirely new cycle beginning. Resolution and purification of some very old core complexes.

This year has been a monumental one in my life at all levels, and I’m happy to be getting positive affirmation and reinforcement, even if there are still parts of me that doubt that I’ve really changed any patterns at all. Perhaps that doubt will keep me humble and honest? I hope so.

Long-held narratives surrounding relationships of all kinds, the anticipation of trauma, and what it means to be of service while having strong boundaries have broken open to more hope and possibility. The resulting upsurge of encounters with my vulnerability and insecurity has helped me to understand just how sensitive I am — and what a blessing that can be, even as I fumble through getting to know myself as an emotional being. I feel like a child in so many ways.

I’ve been blessed in the past year to finally begin to experience the true merging of career and personal path. Vocation in its true form — as Jung used it, mainly as the path towards individuation — is being realized. I can remember specific moments this year when I claimed the labels “astrologer” and, dare I say it, “writer.” I’m so hesitant to claim labels other than my name, so these moments were breakthroughs for me. Creating a sustainable way to live my calling is an adventure I just can’t turn down.

I wrote the above, and then found myself in a many-hours-long plunge into a well of emotions. It felt like all of the old stuff rushing to the surface, like a greatest hits sample-platter of all the things I thought I cleared and healed this year.

This emotional plunge led to a fitful night of moving between sleeping and dreaming and crying. To find comfort and stop some unnecessary mind-fucking, I pulled out Caitlin Matthews’ book on Sophia.

During my time in Florida, I was enchanted by a mega-swarm of synchronicities that kept showing me that Sophianic mythology is of huge importance to my path. I gained more understanding of what I’m here to do and came into contact with the heart of my lineage. This feeling of homecoming happened so frequently this year. It seems to be something that happens as consciousness becomes aware of what the soul knows, tapping into ancient memory.

As lie in my bed, the emotions continued to build. I did my best not to assign meaning and words, but to instead let the emotions come out. At first they trickled slowly, but then gushed out in a torrent. I kept in mind the knowing so supported by my lessons in divine wisdom, courtesy of my run-ins with Sophia: I am here to anchor love. Love is really all there is.

I could feel a particularly insidious old pattern arising: a pattern of amping up drama until someone noticed (they rarely ever do, I’ve come to find out). As the grief intensified I was reminded of my new narrative, that I am someone who asks for, receives and gives support. I managed to find my words, and said out loud to my sweetie (at 4:00 am): “Too much sadness.”

I felt his arms around me (oh, how long I’ve waited for someone to hold me during these times — thank you, 2014!) and the instinct to run and hide and cry in private overwhelmed me so much that I started to crawl to the edge of the bed.

And then I stopped, that I could receive the comfort I had asked for, and he curled himself around my sitting form, and I just let it flow without understanding why.

Finally, words came: I don’t want anyone to suffer anymore. I could feel all around me the acuity of the suffering in the world, the acuity of the suffering in the various lines and lineages I’m a part of, my heart open and tapped in and grieving.

I heard myself saying, “Nothing ever changes,” even as I had an awareness that it felt like I was saying goodbye to something. A swarm of negative thinking, beauty and pain melding to create tension on the heart, and the resulting catharsis. The realization that so much of my personal ‘anchor love and light here’ mantra is based in my ability to open my heart and feel what is going on with my loved ones and in the world.

We have all been through so much during this Uranus-Pluto square. Understatement of the year, I know. And really, it’s not limited to just this small blink in time, as the epic of our collective time on this Earth ripples out in a sphere. We’re nearing the ‘end’ of this one little transformative passage, and I wonder all the time what we will do with what we’ve learned. I wonder if the depths of the Plutonian underworld will be able to integrate the sudden barrages of Uranian lightning bolts. It’s a line of thinking that is something along the lines of: if the soil is not ready, the seed will not take.

And so the prioritization of inner work and the spiritual path continues, even as I grapple with understanding just what that means. I have so much gratitude for getting to participate in the world stage at such a difficult, tumultuous, inspirational and magical time.

Thanks for reading.