Grounded.

Tomorrow morning the Moon will move into Taurus. So let’s talk about this sexy energy.

The sign of Taurus is all about sensual pleasure. It’s about being in the body. Getting a massage, savoring a meal, making art with your hands, smelling flowers are all super Taurus activities. Taurus is an earth sign that is ruled by Venus. So we are thinking grounded beauty. The symbol for Taurus is the bull… the slow, steady, take-my-time-bc-I-won’t-be-rushed bull. I have my North Node in Taurus. We look to the North Node on the birth chart to learn what energy to embody to live your most fulfilled, glorious life. It’s energy that we are here to learn, so, often, it feels somewhat foreign to embody. I can attest to this. Slow and sensual are a bit of a struggle for a girl with her Sun, Venus, and Mercury all in the fire starter, impulsive AF Aries. Aries wants to RAM head first in to everything… light a match and run. I also have my Mars, the aggresive warrior, battling it out in this sign. Being grounded and in my body?! WHAT?! HOW?! And with a feral 5 year old boy running around?! Get outta here...

When I was 17 I through a party at my house when my parents went out of town. At first it really was going to just be a little get together with some friends and whatever alcohol we could scavenger, but then word spread, as it does in small towns, and it ended up being kind of a rager. I’m an anxious queen by nature and I could feel myself getting in trouble before the gathering even gathered. I stood by the front door for most of the night making sure my cats wouldn’t escape and telling everyone who walked in to put their beer in the DOWNSTAIRS REFRIDGERATOR…. I REPEAT- ALL DRINKS GO IN THE DOWNSTAIRS REFRIDGERATOR….

The party was fine. I don’t rememner it being anything insanely fun or worth the anxiety… but it was fine. The next moring I was up with the sun cleaning the house from top to bottom. Running a fine tooth comb through every corner and closet to ensure no beer cap was left behind. When I was certain the house was in tip top shape, I left for my job at the movie theater with a nervous pit in my stomach and sweaty palms as I knew my parents would be returning and be back home when I got off work.

I got home and my mom had cooked my favorite dinner. We had a delicious and laughter filled meal then retreated down to the basement where my mom, dad, and I watched a movie together. After the movie I happily went to bed filled with relief that I hadn’t got caught and that my parents and I were still cool.

The next moring I woke to my mom at my bedside whispering, “Kris… why are there Budwiser cans in my refrigerator?” Instant heat and panic rippled through my body. 

“What are you talking about!? I don’t know! I thought they were Dad’s…” This response is hilarious looking back. My dad never drank Budwiser cans. Shit… he never drank Budwiser. If he drank beer it was Corona and ALWAYS from a bottle. 

“No. Your dad doesn’t drink Budwiser cans.”

And then I cracked open. Tears… panic… B reel dramatics. My mom played it so cool… and by that I mean frigid AF. She told me she wasn’t even going to get worked up about it because we would deal with it when my dad got home from work. Gulp. 

I went to work that day a nervous wreck. Sick and sweaty all day long. I couldn’t wait for the day to be over but at the same time didn’t want to go home. My sister came to pick me up, as I had my driving privelages revoked. As soon as I got in the car I was pumping her for info. “Is dad home!? Is he so mad?! OMG KARA WHAT DO I DO?!?!” She did her best to get me to chill the fuck out on our 5 minute drive home, but honestly her efforts were wasted. I was Anxious Alice- literally shaking. Now, it should be noted, my parents aren’t scary… but it was the fact that I knew I did something wrong and betrayed their trust. I felt terrible. Anyways, we arrived back home and dinner was ready. We took our seats at the table and my dad walked in as if nothing had happened. He served himself, casually looked over at me and said something to the effect of, “Hey Kris- heard you had a great weekend. Next time you throw a party can I come? But… I won’t be drinking Budwiser cans.” 

And the flood gates opened for me, YET AGAIN. 

“Oh my god DAD ARE YOU MAD AT ME?!?!?! I’M SO SORRY!!!!”

“No, Kris, I’m not mad. I was a teenager once, too…”

“I’M SO SORRY!!! THANK YOU FOR NOT BEING MAD!!!” I sobbed. “I can’t believe how cool you are being about this…”

“Obviously you are grounded for the next month. At least until school starts again.”

Well. Obviously. And that felt like a prison sentence. I was RARELY grounded, and when I was it was for, like, a night. Never more than a couple days, tops. A month?! A month in teenager time is 300 years. But they weren’t mad and I knew I was deserving of my sentence. This was the most white collar prison grounding there ever was. No, I couldn’t drive my car or hang out with friends, but I did hang out with my mom and dad a lot. They took me shopping and out to dinner. We watched a lot of movies together. It was during this time I was introduced to Harry Potter and ended up reading the first 3 books and watching the first movie. It felt relaxed and easy. 

Back then grounding was being kept at home as a punishment. These days it’s a challenging act of self care. Coming back to the muscles and bones that stabalize me and give me structure… to the one true home I’ve had since my first day and will house me until my last. Going in to my body by way of my senses. Snuggling my dog. Smelling freshly picked-from-the-neighbors-bushes lilacs. Savoring a bite of pizza. Blasting Stevie Nicks. Coming down to the living room from the cluttered attic. Noticing where my body is in space. Biting my new mouth appliance. These things all sound enjoyable and simple but are easily taken advantage of without notice or appreciation. Remembering to ground in to these moments is medicinal for a mind that doesn’t stop and a painfully tense body. A challenging lesson to be learning at 40 when my nervous system is the most stubborn old lady, protesting the building of new neural pathways. But when I do it, when I actually remember, the pain goes away. My shoulders relax and the pain at the base of my neck melts away for the moment. The chatter in my head does her best be respectful, she whispers rather than rambles… not a total Betty, but a vast improvement. I can feel space being made, bit by bit. And it feels really good. It feels like home. Very much like my grounding incident at 17. Anxiety riddled chaos remedied by a white collar prison grounding.