Half-way through Leo, at 15° of the sign, we see A Pageant, With Its Spectacular Floats, Moves Along A Street Crowded With People, and it’s not even carnival time in Provincetown. The esoteric meaning of this image is the releasing of energies in a form that enacts the aspirations of man’s soul/nature—yesterday we explored, albeit briefly (I’m busy—don’t judge me) the soul’s yearning for express, ruled by Taurus, associated with the voice/expression. Today we take it to the streets which is the domain of the scrappy sign of Gemini, ruled by Mercury, named for the god of all sorts of jugglers, clowns, name-sake merchants, buskers and your basic carnie folk. “Happenings” fall under Gemininan government, people of the sign being buzzy types, typically with an excitement addiction—the kind that like a parade or carnival. But the street-level aspect is only one side of the duality of that sign. By reveling in the streets, allowing excitement to build, we are seeking some form of release or incandescence. (Isn’t that a great word?)

We can reach a state of sublime luminosity via the ecstatic experience. We know this from many cultures, from shamans to Shakers, dervishes to pentacosal devotees. Through the individual experience—and the Gemini-ruled nervous system—we find ecstatic connection with the collective and, again, access the transpersonal through demonstration. Gemini combining with Leo really amplifies the theatricality associated with the latter sign, allowing us to sing the body electric, Walt Whitman, a Gemini, knowing full well the connection between the individual/self and transpersonal/collective.

 The advent of a clown, or costuming associated with carnivals, had its origins in the funerary. There is the expectation of opening oneself to some darker, demonic elements when one crosses the threshold into altered states of consciousness that link them to collective spirit, designed to move the individuals. The costumes are a) designed to disguise the individual; and b) to frighten away and unsavory spirits, which is why we wear them on Halloween, when the veil between the worlds is meant to be quite thin.

So take to the streets today folks, but keep your psychic defenses strong. Allow the spirit to move you but beware of your own personal demons.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

With the last image, the self sought to recollect itself, I imagine, in preparation for certain reincarnation. An old man reflecting in a rocking chair could be the very image of weighing the past (karma) which determines a new state of being, all very high-Aries. Now, at Leo 14°, ruled by Taurus in a twelve-fold sequence, we find A Human Soul Seeking Opportunities For Outward Manifestation, which strikes me as an image of an evolved Taurus kind.

Self-actualization is the keynote here, something which is achieved through the manifestation of our talents, qualities, assets, worth, value—all of which are attributes of Taurus and the second astrological house. What is life then but the proving (fixed-earth of Taurus) proving ground for the soul’s yearning. In a sense life is a process of terrestrially representing the true nature of the spirit. We want to have as little separation between what our original, true soul’s desire might be and the life we live—it’s a great chasm between those two elements of self which characterizes dis-ease on any and all levels. Rudhyar suggests this urge is transpersonal, that is to say, dealing with states of conscioiusness byoned the limits of personal identity. This is debatable. I consider them one and the same. And of course it’s easier said then done.

Life provides obsacles. And would we be dealing with an Aries-ruled oracle, here, we might say that the answer is to attack, the energy of that sign being directive and objective, ruled by Mars, whose symbol is a spear and shield, armed to do battle. But Taurus energy is the opposite. Ruled by Venus the sign is about attracting or allowing. So we see today that the prescription for leading a life mor aligned with soulful yearning is one of letting the soul speak and manifest; this would suggest, by exention, that our obstacles are largely self-imposed. And if we are not letting our true self to come out, then we are therefore in some state of self-hatred or -denial. That won’t get any of us anywhere.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Leo 13° is ruled by the sign of Aries in a twelve-fold sequence and not surprising it focuses on Selfhood. An Old Sea Captain Rocking Himself On The Porch Of His Cottage, to me, speaks of the evolved Aries experience. I see an old soul who has kept the integrity of self intact and might even now be recollecting or, even anticipating reincarnation. He is more akin to the child in the swing in his rocking back and forth. He has weathered the storm of temporal existence and is contented with his choices. He may be like the individual who snuck away from yesterday’s lawn party with it is artful setting to bask in what nature offers. He is in quiet reflection of old age, seemingly contented. More than anyone he likely has tales to tell but all his worldly travel has brought him to this place where we all might find ourselves if we are fortunate: old age.

It’s a short one today. I’m off to the doctors to help insure I might get to that rocking chair one day.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

It bears repeating that the Sabian Symbols were not divined in order—blank cards with the degree numbers on the back were held up to the clairvoyant Elsie Wheeler by astrologer Marc Edmund Jones and Wheeler spontaneously came up with these images. The fact they follow a twelve-fold sequence is surely more than coincidence. And, so far as I know, I’m the only student of these symbols to simply apply the twelve-fold sequence of the zodiac to them. Just as yesterday was a symbol of revelation (associated with the eleventh sign of Aquarius) today is one of escape, a hallmark of the twelfth sign of Pisces.

An Evening Party of Adults On A Lawn Illumined By Fancy Lanterns is on the surface an image of respite from the daily routine, an escape from work and obligation. Yesterday children may have inhabited the same lawn, on a tree swing, an image of being open and curious and, like a child, ripe for learning, especially, spiritual teachings. Pisces’ power of dissolution may have diluted the power of the spiritual teaching, reducing it to a cultivated lawn party, with Chinese lanterns and probably liquor—the kind of party someone like Blanche Dubois, a Pisces archetype, might enjoy—”oh, look, we created enchantment”—but it is, by nature, all fancy and fairy favors, illusion and delusion, or is it. On the flip-side we do have an “illumined” setting and, perhaps, we are here creating a little slice of heaven on earth, the veil between the spiritual and the so-called real having been thinned out. In any case, it is an image of decompression and the letting down of guards, a retreat from the workaday worlds.

It seems rather pointed that yesterday was about children and that today is focused on adults. But remember these images were conceived all out of order. The minds at play here aren’t those of innocents; on the contrary, one imagines a great deal of sophisticated interplay, gossip, uninhibited advances and small soap-operatic intrigue. All is wit and whimsy, the shadow side of transcendence and sacrifice, the highest vibration of Pisces escape being that which unhinges us from material trappings, Pisces’ mutable-water signifying energetic, spiritual existence. As we try to create heaven through material means, especially sophisticated ones we get lost. Liquor or drugs or absinthe, perhaps, even in this setting, might seem to take us to an exalted place and, yes, perhaps it does illustrate to our all-too-human minds that different, altered states of awareness are possible for us to achieve, but drugs, or “spirits” like absinthe, the green fairy, ultimately lead us astray, further and further from that childlike state of pure revelation and that tree.

That said, it might take getting lost, as did a whole portion of the generation, back in the 1920s when these images were originally derived, in order to be found. There might be someone at the party who, confronted by the artifice of it all as a mirror of the state of selfhood, who escapes from the escape, slips away and finds that tree with its vacant swing. Now, as a result of having tasted the sweet life leading to certain decay, s/he might find revelation once again; and one more resonant than the casual encounter of that of a child. The false escape might open unto a true one, that of personal revelation and the impetus toward true transcendence of life’s ephemeral parties toward an everlasting celebration of self and universe. Intimation of immortality not imitation thereof.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Here we arrive at another Aquarius-ruled oracle and of course it is once again hinged on Revelation. Extraordinary. Children Play On A Swing Hanging From The Branches Of A Huge Oak Tree is the Sabian Symbol at Leo 11°. The tree of life, or that of the family of man, has many branches, each off-shoot akin to the evolutionary off-shoots that happen with each sudden mutation in our development as a species. The tree, as Dane Rudhyar points out, is also used, time and again, to express that of spiritual learning, branches representing different spiritual teachers, all rooted in the same primordial truth if not tradition. Tradition and New Growth. This simultaneity is endemic to Aquarius who has two rulers, the primary being planet Uranus (progression) and secondarily Saturn (tradition).

Be ye like little children, one of the great branches once said. For, being as such, we are open to learning, and, when it comes to spiritual teaching, we are like kindergartners no matter our adult age. The swing of course illustrates natural rhythms and moods, the human condition and mind that is as yet un-still. We see here the potential for steadying the emotions as our minds are continually opened to new revelations, unfolding. The mood of this oracle is playful, nonetheless, and it is with that sense of guileless joy that we should receive our spiritual revelations. I can’t help but think of the swing as a pendulum of time, we sitting on this temporal seat, which is held in place by some vast and growing cosmic intelligence.

I woke up today to small and petty nonsense—note to self, don’t read emails first thing. It all comes down to the same thing. People pretending to be grown-ups wielding puny soap-operatic power—and it’s always about money, which poor suckers think gives them said power. Wrong! And then I look out my window and see the swing hanging from the oak tree (for real: there is one) and I think hang it all. And it isn’t even that metaphoric. Going to sit on a swing, under a great tree full of a canopy of leaves, is one of the most mind-clearing things one can do. And it’s in that state of mind that direction, growth comes. When faced with endings, or feeling that doors or enclaves are closed to you, just hang in there.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Is time flying? Seems like only twelve days ago I was citing a Capricorn-ruled image. Ha! Yes the sign of the seagoat governs Leo 10° Early Morning Dew Sparkles As Sunlight Floods The Field. And what a beautiful image it is. I think we all know the exalted feeling of seeing that natural near-elven phenomenon of dew sparkling upon a field. Universally, I belive it resonates as a symbol of deliverance, at having made it through some sort of dark night, most likely, of the soul. We took a chance, we took a risk, we ventured to create, to give life to some art- or intellectual form, and we survived to experience a show of cyclical promise. Our strength has been tested, our fortitude, and indeed our faith. All the elements are at play: I twas the cold night air that preciptated the dew upon the verdant field made dazzling by the rising Sun. Air, Water, Earth, Fire. Capricorn is the seagoat and it trails its briny tail, emerging from the sea as the day does from dewy morn. Promise delivered.

Now let’s look at it all from a different angle. Yesterday we were challenged to create, purely, without affectation, putting our full spirit into it. Today, perhaps, we see the anatomy of creation itself. Like the first morning, each morning is a replicant of upper-case Creation, something the sign of Leo and its 5th astrological house is “all about”: Co-creation with god, to be exact; and we can replace god, here with say, universal spirit, that which we express in any pure act of creation. Yesterday we tried. But, today, Yoda, we see it done to perfection: God’s recreation of the new day.

When it comes to the creative act, there really can’t be half measures. One must invest total spiritual and vital energy in it, if it is to yield something true and meaningful. Such is the lesson of today’s image at Leo 9° Glass Blowers Shape Beautiful Vases With Their Controlled Breathing. Breath is life, so what we are being told here is that we must put our total being into our creation, our full spirit, inspiration being close to respiration. For a work of creation to be considered vital, we must suffuse it with our own full vitality. There is also fire, as well as air (breath) involved in the glass blowing. And fire does translate to spirit in astrological terms—this 9th degree of Leo being ruled by the 9th sign of the Zodiac, Sagittarius, in a natural twelve-fold sequence. For many reasons, most of which I go into in the Sagittarius chapters of our book Sextrology, Sagittarius is associated with the stream-of-consciousness, as, along with its two preceding signs, it comprises the mental/intellectual quadrant of the Zodiac—Libra=Consciousness, Scorpio=Subconsciousness and Sagittarius, the mutable third sign of that quadrant, blends the two. Beat poets, jazz musicians, improvisers of all sorts, stream-of-consciousness writers are all channeling this Sagittarian energy, spontaenously employing a breath of fire. Cue: Ethan Hawke extemporaneously spouting verse in Dead Poets Society. Likewise, you can’t stop the action while blowing glass, it happens or it doesn’t all in one stream of exhalation cum expression.

Glass is made from sand. The sands of time. Past incarnation and order which we are now transforming into something new. In Chekhov’s The Seagull, the young playwright Treplov calls for “new forms, new forms!” (as coincidence would have it, I was in a B’way production of that play in which Ethan Hawke played Treplov). This is the artist’s cry. All else is rehash. Not that doing an album or performance of cover songs, for instance, can’t be creating new forms, it’s all the spirit of the thing. Imitation is suicide. Those of us who do things others have never done before (the curse of the cardinal signs, especially—you Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn people know what I’m talking about) are likely, like Treplov, to live in a sort of artistic Siberia, killing ourselves for the creation of something good. Hopefully, not literally. Do I really need a spoiler-alert for Chekhov? If we’re fortunate, or stick to it long enough, or both, we might reach an audience, which is fulfilling, but it can’t be the end in itself. The true goal must be to create that vessel, that vehicle, into which we can pour our full spirit. That is the only goal. Unfortunately we mostly live in world where so-called artists are wardrobed in the Emporer’s new clothes. There is a difference between having talent and creating art. People on “The Voice” might have talent; just like the award-winning downtown performance artist might have talent. But are they creating something new or rehashing (even if from obscure forms and references most people won’t recognize, which, to me is really cheating)?

You’re either putting your all (spirit) into it or you’re phoning it in. Even great artists have the experience of phoning it in, only for them that experience is excruciatingly painful. When you’re good you know when you’re bad. A genuine form of aristic creation comes very much from the same place from which procreation stems. Putting a package together, with a ton of glitter bells and sequins whistles, playing some attitude of an “ahdist” isn’t creation but approximation, better known as faking it; something I can see through, in an artistic context, if not a sexual one. I said that for effect…or is it affect…it’s probably both. I am thinking of your amusement, trying not to forever stand on my Libran soapbox which can so often seem to be made out of the pulp of sour grapes. I’m not that person. As an artist I am content with being perceived as so-so or even lousy, so long as I am giving my original form of creation my all. I have an Aquarius Moon. I know what it feels like to be ahead of ones time, a perceived second-rate cabaret John the Baptist feeding the people what they mightn’t be in the head (yet) to chew on. It’s cool. It’s not about you. And it’s not about me. It’s about the connection. It’s about giving voice to that which hasn’t been said or heard before. It’s actually quite a relief not to care about so-called audience reaction. So long as you are honestly connecting and coming up with new goods—you’ll see—people will ultimately get it. You may be dead, but they’ll get it.

What artist do you know of would be content nowadays to fall on deaf ears, never mind cut one off from sheer madness? Who does anything anymore without thinking about how it will be perceived. If that glass-blower thought about that then piece of work wouldn’t be conceived to be perceived. The presence of mind, body and spirit necessary to create a true work of art must be total. Otherwise you’re just performing; and any wind-up toy monkey with a drum can do that. People used to want to be artists. Now people pretend they’re people who want to be artists when really they just want to be popular. Or make a comeback from a career they never had in the first place. That’s one of my favorite cultural occurances. This way you get to be the victim and the victor. How about you stop trying. How about you just spontaneously do it without thought of praise, perk or peso? I fucking dare you.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

A Communist Activist Spreading His Revolutionary Ideals is the image for today at Leo 8°, ruled by the eighth sign of Scorpio, in a twelve-fold sequence. Fittingly, just as Scorpio boasts the destroyer archetypes of Chtonian underworld gods of Pluto and Persephone (Shiva and Kali), this symbol deals with the destruction of existing order (so to create a new order one. As the hingepin between the signs of Libra (Apollonian order) and Sagittarius (Dionysian new order) Scorpio, linked to the autumnal season, is about the falling away of existing appearances, energy diverting to the subterranean if not the subversive as a symptom of transformation and regeneration, hallmarks of the eighth house. So, fine, yesterday we glimpsed divine order in the predictably moving stars, but we know that, unlike that ordered macrocosm, the microcosm is chaotic, random and unpredictable. The Zodiac seems to have been encoded with that knowledge, which science has only of late discovered, or rather uncovered.

The communist, here, is certainly a response to the old-fashioned lady and elderly man of recent symbols, personages attached to outmoded orders. Nature is recycling. The number eight itself, akin go the lemniscate, an emblem of infinity, is a loop-the-loop expression of what goes around coming around. We must return to a state of at least seeming chaos—let us use Dane Rudhyar’s word of “non-differentiation”—as a natural transition to new orders. It’s a step one often wants to skip. We stress this with our clients: We don’t go from paradigm to paradigm in our life experience we go from paradigm to transition to paradigm and so forth; it is very important, especially for one’s emotional state, to value the transition period, with time and energy, just as much as we do the so-called desired paradigm it is meant to bring about. Focusing on all of life as transition, indeed, is more accurate and healthy a view. Process over stasis, progress over perfection.

Rudhyar:

The old order is confronted by the youthful drive for a new way of life and a new sense of values. As the old order refuses to yield its prerogatives, this refusal polarizes violent revolutionary action. The revolutionary may have beautiful dreams of a “classless” society free from greed and harsh struggles for survival, but the first practical result of his activity almost inevitably appears as “chaos.”

Appears being the key word: Things never change quite drastically. Like in Orwell’s Animal Farm, there’s always some pig ready to prove that it wasn’t compassion or empathy that spurred them to revolution is was jealousy and greed for what the haves had. And then what goes around comes around. America fought a revolution against oppression, too—that’s a laugh. We are totally oppressive as any Plutocracy is. That destroyer god of death is also one of riches, the dragon lays waste so to collect and horde all the coin. Hello the Bushes. Hello Halliburton. A nod to that dragon: we don’t call them the Lizard Kings for nothing. Back when Starsky + Cox first performed we embraced the characters of those whose families ran antithetical to those age-old Lizards. I used to say, “for each and every one of those tired old Bushes, there have always been any number of Cox.” Conspiracy theory humor, people laughed; while, in effect it isn’t really that funny. What goes around comes around. But that works for good as well as evil. It’s Mr/Ms/Mx in-between you have to look out for. It’s not just a matter of Republicans being devils and Democrats being good. They can put the d in d-evil, too. I’m concerned about Hillary (a Scorpio) and the whole son-in-law-father-went-to-jail-for-fraud-failing-hedge-fund-slash-bargain that might be going on. Rich democrats pouring money into sonny’s hedge fund (that continually loses them money) for what? a greater payoff if Scorpione becomes elle-presidente? I dunno. Sounds like a new order not so dissimilar from the old one. But what do I know.

We all have a bit of Robespierre in us, I’m sure. All the more reason to rage against that machine, even as it seeks to work its Orwellian voodoo in us. Those in-betweeners: Most work their whole lives, hours and hours a week, with little time off, to get to some place in the future when they can sit back and what? survey? all that they’ve ammassed. Pretty dragony if you ask me. And even if your aim is to get to this mystical time-space without dropping dead from exhaustion when will you know you got there? When is enough enough? I think way sooner than most people realize. You know when the planet experienced the truest form of communism? It wasn’t in Russia and it sure as shit at China. It was right here in America in the communes of the 1960s and 70s but the Utopian vision couldn’t hold. It never can, really. There’s always going to be some asshole who elects himself the leader or guru or helter-skelterer or some shit. Because there will always be sheep. There will always be those willing to give up their own authority and their own autonomy. I say fuck that. You say you want a revolution? Well go ahead and have one. The only real revolution, one whose effects will stay in place, is the one you have inside yourself.

You see, if you’re not happy (and most of you say you aren’t—not really) than you have to overthrow your own government. You have to storm the bastille of those people and situations in your life that lock you in. Wherever you say “I have to” instead of “I choose to” or “I want to” that is where oppression lives in you. And you only live once (in this embodiment at least). So what are you so afraid of? Are you afraid that you’re not sure of the love there is no cure for? Yes folks, that’s wisdom via the Partridge Family. And that love that dare not speak it’s name is the self-kind. So be ye like that revolutionary in todays image and start spreading the news: That envy- and greed-green wicked witch of a fear-based drag-on your personality is dead, dead, dead. Ding dong. Who’s there? My new faith-driven self. Do come in…

[pardon any typos]

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Now how could I not love Leo 7°—The Constellations Of Stars Shine Brilliantly In The Night Sky? And of course it’s ruled by Libra in a twelve-fold sequence, the cardinal-air sign of Light. It is a symbol of our highest spiritual nature and values, our shared humanity, and our enduring archetypal nature. We are all stars. Something which we might one day find out to be a literal statement. We get glimpses of it, individually, in meditation just as we do, collectively, in scientific pursuit. And we use it as metaphor in literature and in song, of course. But I think it might actually be true—that for each star in the universe there is a soul which might be organicially, or holgraphically?, embodied in us here on earth. Too far? Okay, we’ll stick to the metaphor. After all these past days of imagery focused on our ephemeral nature, we now have a solid “image” of our own eternal one, our immortality, portrayed as points of beaming light. Is that better?

Did you know that cultures with an astrology were mainly located in places on Earth with the clearest and most brilliant display of the stars whose movement was as basic to them as a sunset or the change of seasons. The impetus to an astrology came out of the human need for order—Order as well as Light are the domains of Libra whose male archetype is Apollo, the god of order and light. Libra is ruled by Venus on the astral plane. Venus’s energy is centrifugal, that is it seeks union and connection. Libra is balance and harmony, notions of other being intrinsic to those precepts, just as it rules the seventh astrological house of “other” the opposite of the Aries-ruled first house of Self. See! Order! And as a Libra person I’m designed to embrace it—as well as a minimal aesthetic (please send Cy Twombys)—just as I am obsessed with the notion of (permanent) archetypes that we (impermanent) people express, most likely, over and over and over again, ad infinitum. If you didn’t quite grasp that, don’t worry about it.

Dane Rudhyar picks up from there in saying that astrology also stems not just from a need to find order but also to “personalize everything” that could be given a permanent form. It’s like he knows me. These personalizations are called “psychic projections”. Also like the sound of that. And it’s a two way street. If people are to project their human nature on the starry sky then why would the universe not project its contantly morphing patterns upon us? Hmm? Well? What do you have to say to that? In any case, we are now looking at something even longer lasting than the cliffs and canyon of the image of a few days hence. This is some serious eternity, now, sister. It makes the difference between the old-fashioned lady and the flapper-hippy look pretty silly and supercilious. We are made of stuff (stardust, if not starlight) finer and more permanent than our fashions let alone our mortal coils.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.

The Sabian Symbols thus far in Leo all seem to be on a similar theme; again that is fascinating in light of these images having been “divined” randomly by a clairvoyant. I’m powering through, still, trying to catch up to myself here. At Leo 6° A Conservative, Old-Fashioned Lady Is Confronted By A “Hippie” Girl is the symbol, hitting home the fact that Sabian scholar Dane Rudhyar updated these images in the 1960s and 70s. I need to find what the original one was—okay just did that—the original “Hippie” was a “Flapper”, these having been created in the 1920s. Same difference. Right off the bat I think this is an image of self-confrontation, the hippie within us is challenging the conservative nature of how we were formed. Again we are dealing with or fashions, morés and, yes, morals and how they are all outmoded in the face of the evolving self and human race.

This symbol is ruled by Virgo in a twelve-fold sequence. And if you know your astro-mythology, then you know that the Virgo virgin is Kore, the maiden aspect of the Earth goddess (her mother) Demeter. I see this archetypal mother and daughter in this image, just as it has been mirrored in many folk tales, works of literature and modern film and television. Mrs. Robinson and Elaine in The Graduate, come searingly to mind.

We need to break out. Yesterday we saw an expanse of eternity. Surely we needn’t have that wide of a perspective to know that the Flapper of yesterday becomes the Old-Fashioned Lady of today, confronted with that Hippie who is now, in the time of this writing, rather Old-Fashioned herself. And the beat goes on….the parade of societal values keeps on marching by, generations often running antithetical.

When I was a wee child we had something called the generation gap. It mirrored the racial gap and the gender gap and the gap of sexual identity. Now we delude ourselves we don’t have one. At that same time when I was a child we had a thriving middle class. We didn’t know then it was an anomaly, we thought it was a mainstay. Now we have a culture gap, a great divide created by the love of money that has seen most people on the have shore having been born there with a silver spoon handed down for centuries or those willing to sacrifice every human shred of empathy in order to simply claw at that shore. And then there is the other side, the ironical have-nots whom, I believe, have already inherited that proverbial kingdom, access to which is like the eye of a needle. Everything goes in the end; so those of us who willingly eschew the trappings of materiality for just enough and then some to live another day focused on giving have the easiest passage through life as those hills of time come rolling in. It is we who gain the sense of true abundance because we are closest to it. I know many very rich people. I would venture to say that I live just as well if not better than they do; and I’m constantly being shown the truly generous essential nature of life and the cosmos which never ceases to provide.

Think of the impermanence of what society seeks to impress upon your consciousness as important to achieve and hold onto, neither of which is actually possible. Want what you have and nothing more. It’s what we tell our clients and readers constantly. It sounds so easy but it’s so difficult to remember and put into actual practice. We immediately think “but what if…”…what if what? You’ll get sick? You will. You’ll die? You will. All of the physical world is impermanence; any advanced placement twelfth-grade English teacher would have had you explore that theme. Keats and Yeats. We know all this intellectually. But can we live the perspective the hills of time represent. Can we function and operate in the presence, act in it, with the ultimate panoramic view of life eternal? You can get back to me on that.

Copyright 2015 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.