Dispatches from the Underground: It’s June in America
Yeah, let’s live for the wonder of it all. A reality update, a planet update, the story of a wedding, being a fake minister, and more
It might seem risky to talk about it at all, even at this late hour, but let’s be honest with ourselves. We’re now fully thirteen days into the month of June. We were promised two months (June and July) of extreme difficulty, and we are now around 20% through this period. It can hardly, at this point, be considered tempting fate to talk openly about a thing that’s already one-fifth over with.
What I’m getting at is that after seven months of warnings and all the many hints of May, plus the thirteen days now spent in the thick of it, I think I have a sense of what this “dark period” is all about. I’m not going to pretend that I wholly understand it, nor will I even purport to be able to explain it well with words, but I get the vibe, and what I’ve seen unfold has yet to suggest I’m reading things wrong.
Yes, this is a difficult time. It is beset with great changes (and, complicating things, some strong but false indications of illusory changes), a fair amount of confusion, many delays, not a lot of progress, and a pinch of just general drag to keep us all perhaps from being as buoyant as we might ordinarily be during this time. I see a lot of people wrestling, trying to figure a lot of things out. This is, of course, necessary. It’s certainly unusual to feel a collective crunch like this, where everyone’s doing so much processing and deliberating all at once, but these are things we all need to do from time to time — why not do them together? And indeed, many of the auguries, omens, and readings have agreed that one of our best sources of strength and aid during this trying time will be one another.
Now, not to be an asshole or anything, but I actually feel great. These last months haven’t been easy at all, and I would not characterize myself as cruising easy street in a red shark convertible or anything. But the worst of these storms are missing me. Yes, that could change, but I’m getting the sense that they won’t. In fact, many of the conflicts I’ve been wrestling with for the last few months bizarrely — shockingly, even — seem to be wrapping themselves up, at least for the time being. I don’t want to give myself too much credit here as I definitely ascribe 90+% of this to sheer luck, but I do wonder if seeing it all coming from such a distance hasn’t had an effect on how it is now that I’m here. I’ve been looking at this for a long time — mostly with dread, but I’ve been looking at it. Maybe I took on some of the burden early so that it’s less of a slap in the face now. Hard to say.
In any case, though, I’ve remembered at least some of my advice from the beginning of the month, namely the admonition to take the opportunities we can to celebrate and break bread together. I’ve laid many plans to do exactly that, including a special Midsummer’s Eve Picnic, a Solstice Service in sacred Putnam Park (more on this below), a wild Space Force show at the Copacabana, and, finally, my first climb of the sacred mountain to finish out the month. July is similarly structured. If things do go awry, it will not be for any lack of planning or attention.
If you’re one of the people struggling, don’t hate me for saying these things; in fact, you can feel free to reach out to me. I probably have the capacity to help. No bullshit.
A few days ago, Jupiter hit one of the points in the year at which it was directly opposite the sun, which means it rises at sunset and sets at sunrise (like the full moon) and is bright as hell in the sky. I didn’t try, because I’m really bad at things like this (I don’t know if I can’t figure out the focus or what), but I’m told that mere binoculars would have been enough to see not just Jupiter but its two biggest moons, too.
Course, this was Monday, and it was raining. No matter — I had been staring at the thing for nearly a week prior on my nightly survey walks around downtown (a wizard’s responsibility, of course), imagining I could feel its light beaming down on me. It’s good light to me, it agrees with me. None of this is actually related to (or even in agreement with) my light dabbling in astrology; my love for Jupiter being bright in the sky goes back at least to the spring of sixth grade. I have this weird thing where I feel better and seem to have better times when Jupiter is bright in the sky, and this has been noticeably true for decades now.
Not sure what it means, but I’m definitely enjoying it , especially during a promised rough patch like this one.
Last Saturday, I had the privilege and honor of officiating my second wedding. In spring of 2018, I presided over my brother’s nuptials, which was every bit as special as you might imagine, and this year I got to do the same for my friends Sam and Chloë. They’d asked me to do this an entire year ago after learning about my first marriage ceremony operation, and I honestly can’t believe that in the last year of political work I did not manage to piss them off enough for them to dis-invite me from this esteemed and crucial role in such an important day in their lives.
I really like things like this, of course — I value all rituals very highly, and few are as sacred and crucial and life-altering as those of matrimony. It really would have been a pleasure to do this even for lesser folks (hit me up if you want to get married, I’m not joking!), but I found myself unexpectedly blown away by how special this experience was.
Not sure if anyone would be surprised by this, but I’m a harsh judge — of weddings themselves, of relationships, of family dynamics, you name it — and without being crass about it, everything about this exceeded the highest of standards. The ebullient, overflowing, sincere (and really somehow not even corny) love between the bride and groom was as obvious to everyone there as the June sun shining down and blessing us, the couple above all, with a perfect day. Both bride and groom have the backing and support of two absolutely wonderful, charming, loving families whose company I sincerely enjoyed. The ceremony and the attendant party were just perfect, to top it all off.
Not gonna lie, standing up at the front with the groom and his brother, when the bride came down the aisle you could just feel this welling of unabashed emotion from the crowd — true movement — and I myself began to tear up. I admonished myself: you’re supposed to be the professional, god damn it, get your shit together. I did, of course. You can’t have the minister choking up in the middle of the ceremony, especially when the whole thing is only ten minutes long!
Many, many sincere blessings and well wishes to the happy couple — now and for many, many decades to come. They don’t need it, really; they’re obviously standing on the strongest of foundations without any extra positive energy from me. Plus those bastards are in France for the next two weeks. But they do deserve it and I am really and truly grateful for the opportunity to be a part of all of this warmth and love. It was one for the books.
Final funny fact: even when you tell people you’re a fake minister, they still kinda treat you a little bit like a real one (if an odd one), especially when you put on a good ceremony.
One of the strangest things about divination, particularly in regular divinatory practice, is when it actually works. Yes, I’ve been doing this for about eleven years, and I still get surprised when something comes up as a dead-on spooky-ass match.
I mentioned last week my little Instagram side project with daily three-card Rider-Waite-Smith readings. I’ve been doing those for maybe two or three months and it’s been very informative as I start getting a feel for these cards and these readings and how they work, but this week, for the very first time, it nailed me with one of those spooky moments. I had written on Monday about how there may be a situation where we’ve been thinking it’s time to leave something or move on in some way, but it actually now turns out that this was a red herring or something, and that we’ll be called to stay where we are and improve things there. The very next day, having of course forgotten about this throwaway line in the middle of the reading, I ended up having this exact realization about something major in my professional life. It was exactly the situation and exactly as dramatic as the cards promised.
The next day, there were suggestions that we should reconnect ourselves with our social and community lives in ways in which we disengaged, and on Wednesday I experienced a living example of precisely that. Either I’m just on a roll this week or I’m really getting a feel for these cards. I’m hoping it’s the latter, but only time will tell.
In reference to what I mentioned earlier about the Solstice in Putnam Park, this is something I’m very excited about and certainly something I would encourage all locals reading this to attend. It’s an official UU church event and something special myself along with three others (including our own Zoë Wroten-Heinzmann) are putting together from scratch. We’ll stand in Putnam Park for around 45 minutes of song, ritual (!!), chanting, and fun for all ages. We’re calling it A Celebration of Light and celebrate we will. For more information, check the FB event page here.