It seems to me that little things in life aren’t really little things at all. Especially as we age and have been through so many momentous experiences the world becomes a mine field of resonances that have echoes back to something in the past that may have around it a host of unresolved or lively feelings, feelings that slumber only shallowly below the surface level of consciousness and are easily awakened by some trigger. Today, for me, it was the girl in the red scarf.
Today Jasper and I went on our long walk by the lake that leads on a winding path through native bushland, past several bays and the Yacht club to the Chinese garden that is currently under construction, a gift to our city from the city of Beijing. Jasper spends much of the walk straining on his leash, and nothing brings me more joy (but trepidation, too) than unclipping him from the collar and seeing him run in fully fledged, joyous flight towards boundless doggy adventures chasing birds, and liberated to puddling through the reeds in the shallows on the shore.
My trepidation comes from the fact that he is apt to disappear from view and become invisible, claimed by the freedom urge that could pull him far away and I have still not full trust in the fact he will return. Sometimes he hasn’t. Despite this, I still choose to play devil’s advocate in letting him off. The price of uncertainly and distrust is not as high as the discomfort I feel in restricting his joy and happiness in being set free. I think there is something profound for me in this since as a child I was so often reigned in and had my freedom and joy curtailed. Now I get to relive part of my childhood through Jasper. I get to be the one who can let the banked up energy of my puppy free to unleash his vitality in ways that bring him closer to his hearts desire.
So it was today, that on the return part of our walk I set him free to run. I tracked him forward most of the way until finally he flew ahead of my vision and disappeared into some deep scrub. At this point I began calling him, and experiencing some of the, most probably unnecessary dis-ease at his disappearance from view. I then began to call his name. No sign of him, but from behind me I heard a voice and turned to see upon the path above me a beautiful girl with dark curly hair and a red scarf, walking a well behaved brown poodle on a lead.
“Is everything okay?” she asked me, in a soft and lovely English accent. “Is there anything I can do to help?”. Something in my heart went warm, an offer of kindness and concern from a stranger. I began to explain about Jasper and his shenanigans, his love of birds, his penchant for independent flight and my own discomfort with reigning him in. At that point, just out of the right side of my vision, Jasper appeared in view. Only to run off again and then reappear. With some coaxing, offering a non existent treat, which confused him, he came back close enough to connect the lead to his collar.
In time we made our way to the car. As I got inside, tears began to fall. I immediately thought of the girl in the red scarf and at the same time had a memory of my English friend Lucy. Gosh, I thought, the girl in the red scarf was so like Lucy. I really, really miss England, sometimes and I miss Lucy, too. Lucy was a lovely girl I met when I was doing part of the Psychological Astrology course in London, following a brief separation from my husband. In time we formed a friendship and I eventually went to stay with Lucy in Oxford when my husband and I finally separated for good.
Sadly Lucy and I had a falling out, on the day of my bike accident. I was upset with Lucy for banging pots while talking to me on the phone (actually I was, I now see, transferring feelings of rejection onto Lucy that really belonged to someone else. On the phone that day I accused Lucy of not listening, (and worse, not caring) which was silly really. Later that day I fell off my bike. Lucy and I never spoke again. I’m not sure why. I was very disoriented following the head injury I sustained and I lost my grip on reality for a while.
For some reason this encounter today with the girl in the red scarf had triggered, not only all this association to Lucy, but to London, Oxford and England too. Indeed today was one of those overcast English type days that set up in my soul such a longing for England. My ancestral home, but curiously as I have unpacked the associations all of the above has come to mind too.
I don’t know if this has much to do with Jupiter’s transit through Leo in my 12th house. I just have a feeling that it does on some level. For one thing, it was during the last Jupiter transit in this house that I met Lucy, to begin with. And to me Lucy represented something of my younger Leonine self, although I am sure she was a Sun sign Cancer, strong Leo placements were a part of her chart.
Robert Hand writes this of Jupiter’s transit through the 12th house:
At this time…. you can learn a great deal about yourself by encountering the fear or resistance that you often experience when you come face to face with the aspects of yourself that you find less desireable……you can look dispassionately and compassionately at yourself, the world and other people.
It may be to some I am making a lot of my encounter today with the girl in the red scarf. But on a soul level I don’t believe that is true. There was, I feel something very significant about it. Something to contemplate. It may just be my imagination, but perhaps imagination has a lot to do with the 12th house anyway. The girl in the red scarf passed along the path and I left her by the lake but today she is taking up space in my imagination. Something about her was so beautiful. She was to me, an image to dream on. And she had things to teach me too, about Lucy, about what went wrong and about the friendship that got arrested over 12 years ago. So that is why I don’t thing there are any truly meaningless events. Sometimes things have more to them than meets the eye and sometimes such encounters are encounters for dreaming on and for making something of that has a deep resonance for my soul. And maybe Robert Hand is right. This encounter was a chance to explore an older one and to reframe it in the light of a new understanding.