Yes, we know astrology is bollocks, but there’s gotta be something to explain away my crises – that is, other than self-indulgence with a dollop of melodrama.  My friendly local astrologer looked at my chart early last year and said my Saturn’s Return would be “relatively pain free”.  But lately I’ve been wondering why I’ve been in a bit of a funk.

Then, I read this on a website:

You may feel weak and vulnerable. You want to move ahead, yet are frustrated by a fear of doing so, torn between a compelling urge to throw off everything connected with your past and an equally frantic need to cling to the familiar rather than brave the great unknown.

Even if your external world seems to be in order, your internal structure may feel as though it’s being assaulted with a battering ram. Nervous conditions, irritability, depression, insomnia, and feelings of insecurity are common. Most people go through some sort of identity crisis.

You can add nightmares to that list.  Disappointment.  Heavy boredom.  And an ever-deepening skepticism at a time when you’d be better off taking a leap of faith.

This is why I haven’t been writing.  I’ve been living on a mental diet of cheese puffs.  I’ve even joined the gym again – not just for physical fitness, but as an attempt to lower my mind-fat percentage.

If this is “relatively pain free”… holy shitballs, Batman.

1. It’s been a while.  Sorry.  I’ve been thinking about you though.  All the time.  Yes, I do feel guilty.  Yes, I’ve thought about what I’d say to you when the inevitable meeting arose.  I’ve thought of every issue I could cover, every idea and feeling I could express.  And the resounding phrase echoing in my head was “I have nothing to say” - which can’t possibly be true, considering I always have something to say, even when I have no reason/evidence/justification/ interest/permission to say it.  And even when I think or even say I have nothing to say, it’s always a lie.  Anyway, sorry.

2. I’m not bitter, but… actually, I am.  A bit.  In the spirit of preparation, I’m squeezing my mind-grapes now so that, in future, I can deliver a blog that doesn’t suck.  But for now, allow me to overindulge/feel free to ignore: my not-so-inner drama queen.  The small measure of wisdom I have tells me that the following counterproductive feelings will pass, and to that end I’m giving myself a deadline for this tantrum.  Also, I’ve been incredibly spoilt and blessed this past year, so it was inevitable that the bubble would burst.  But goddamn it, right now, man, I am bitter.  I feel like, in pretty much every aspect of life, I am back to square one - aka, an invisible hack.  And I’m confused about my hair colour.  Oh, and while I’m ‘here’, I don’t like the number 29.  A stupid indivisible integer for a stupid, impenetrable year.  No, wait, I didn’t mean that!  Come back!  I promise I’ll be creative.  I’ll start with breakfast*…

3. Not-quite-The-Artist’s-Way.  In a spectacular coincidence, right on the date of her Saturn’s Return, I ran into a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen in years – on a bus we both often catch, no less.  In our catch-up convo, she said that she overcame writer’s block and finally embarked on a novel-writing venture by writing three pages of just whatever’s in her head first thing every morning – known as “Morning Pages” in the creativity guidebook The Artist’s Way.  I tried this for three consecutive mornings and it was quite possibly my most hated writing task of all time - even more than essays in uni, more than what-the-hell-do-I-say-here? captions, more than writing Christmas cards to rellies I’m not all that close to.  Mornings are not my creative time – unless you count creating breakfast* – and so I conveniently forgot to do it again after those three days.  Believe it or not, there is a point to my telling you this.  In lieu of writing three pages every day (seriously that’s, like, 1500 words, man) I’m going to attempt to *deep breath* write three points on here every day.  Even if I think I have nothing to say.  Because, as we all know now, that’s a lie.

It’s not back yet, but I’m told it’s well on the way. Thankfully, I’m not talking about Christmas. I’m talking about every kid’s favourite planet to draw, Saturn.

Every 29.5 years, Saturn returns to the same point in space as it was when you were born. But what has a bigarse planet in the middle of nowhere have to do with us? Well, the astrologers say that the years either side of when “Saturn returns” are kind of a crisis zone.

Not necessarily in a bad way, however. Around this time, people often meet the love of their lives or find the jobs of their dreams, or they uproot and travel the world to see what else there is. In the years either side of 30, people supposedly cast off their ballast in favour of a more condensed version of their lives.

Sound vague? You betcha. These people explain it better than I do, though it’s still all very flowery, as you’d expect.

Of course, my publication’s astrologer tells me that I’m in a new lunar cycle and I’m also dealing with “a strong Uranian influence” at the moment. This is making me “crave emotional and intellectual stimulation”, giving me an “overwhelming urge to travel”, and making me “quite psychic”.

It’s true, I have been bored, my feet have been itchy (though that’s partly remedied with my impending trek to the Greek islands later this year – booyah!), and my gut feelings have been pretty damn sharp (sounds like appendicitis). I should play some poker before Uranus leaves my chart…

I’m on a bit of a learning spree, too. In the last six weeks I’ve started Greek language classes and Bikram yoga (that’s a story in itself). I’m still taking singing lessons too and with that the learning curve has suddenly become mighty steep (at the moment, the middle voice = brain explosion, but we’ll get there). The challenge really, really rocks.

Unusually enough, though, I’m not particularly stressed about any of this. Maybe the meditative effects of yoga are finally starting to kick in – my reason for getting into it in the first place. Inner peace. After all, you can’t be a belligerent psycho your whole life…

Itchy feet, casting off the ballast, seeking a new Everest… The collaboration of Uranus and impending Saturn, or just a pattern of being perpetually bored and indulgent and going from crisis to crisis just to amuse myself?

Whatever it is, there’s something in the air. I said it at the start of this year, and I’m still saying it – there’s something about 2008 that feels completely different. And if the last couple of months – especially the last couple of weeks – are anything to go by, it’s safe to say I’m right.