Find Water

Don’t mind your head throbbing. Look for green. Watch for roots. Go downhill. Smell. Smell more. Walk towards it if it smells wet. Remember that your whole being wants water, needs water.

Dig. Dig deeper. Don’t be picky. If there’s mud, stick your face in it. Follow the bugs. Look for salt.

Ignore the sludge in your head and in your veins. Scrape out that clay and stick it in your mouth. Spit it out when you start gagging. Grab for more clay, and repeat, until your fingernails crack and bleed.

Forget everything that’s ever happened. Feel the sun baking you, turning you to leather, and find water.

Recall that you walk in the footsteps of your ancestors of millions of years. Feel the prehuman core of you, the mammal, the lizard, the one who has survived and will survive.

Don’t be afraid of the scorpions hissing around you. Grab a rock and smash them if you can. Separate the tail. Eat those little bastards. Pretend it’s lobster. Imagine a five star restaurant, and crush another one.

Cercophonius squama (Gervais, 1844), Wood Scorpion by Photographer: Rodney Start is licensed under CC-BY 4.0

Keep moving as your body starts to shake. Don’t fear as the sun is setting. Find rocks, find something to keep the wind out, to keep the wind from you, to become your hard shell. Tighten yourself into a ball and shut your eyes tight as the air around you gets colder and colder.

Take comfort, you have not been forgotten. Picture her face and how easy life was with her. Let the warmth spread around you. Sleep, or at least rest.

Wake with the sting of the reborn sun, and shake the bugs off. Grab that beetle and crunch it down. Take your shirt off and shake it out. Turn it inside out and put it back on, the filth faces your skin and protects you a little.

Look to the horizon. Move toward that shimmering image. Hear her voice, soothing, stirring. Don’t doubt it as a mirage. Consider it as motivation. Movement is life, motion is life.

Find the dew on the rocks, the condensation, and cup it into your hands, lick it, slake your thirst, every drop. Take your filthy socks and soak them with the wet, and then stuff them in your pockets as canteens. Picture every drop as ambrosia, golden nectar of the gods gliding down your throat, giving you life and strength.

Feel the life returning to you. Walk with greater purpose. Hear the thrum of the helicopter, wave your arms and shout from your now moist throat.

Fall to your hands and knees as the helicopter lands. Weep from exhausted tear ducts as they cover you with a blanket. Try not to gulp the water as it’s drizzled into your cracked lips. Give your thanks to them, for finding you, for not forgetting you, as they tell you to rest. Shut your eyes and let yourself be carried onto the helicopter. Feel the death lift from you as the helicopter rises above the desert. Pass into sleep, and feel your life returning to you.

Photo by Emiliano Arano on Pexels.com

Saturn and Venus

I’ve been thinking about Saturn and Venus in an astrotheological context, and considering the archetypes present in culture.

In the Avengers movies, Thanos is Saturn. His character originates from Titan, a moon of Saturn. He wants to bring order and balance to the universe, like Saturn, and he will kill his children to do so.

Gamora is Venus, green like new life, alluring and deadly like nature. Saturn must kill life to create order. When his task is finished, he is killed by Thor, the Sun god. Of note, Thor has lost his eye, like his father Odin did for wisdom, and also like Horus.

Here is the Thoth Tarot card of the Universe, followed by stills from Avengers: Infinity War. The imagery of the woman contending with Saturn, crushing the head of the snake, foreshadows the use of time travel to defeat Thanos. Gamora is resurrected by time travel, at the cost of her love for Quill and redemptive arc. Without graves, there would be no resurrection, to quote Nietzsche.

Death is the secret of life. These are ideas I’ve been playing with lately, like in this poem, “Die Daily.” I learned on Monday that I failed my board exam, and that my months of effort had been fruitless, while everyone else in my class passed. I’m going through the grief process, and reconciling myself to retaking it in June, after some intense, transformative study.

I decided to get an apartment near my work, and live apart from my wife and three children for the next three months while I study. It will save me a ninety minute commute daily, and allow me to do what I need to. I can’t help but feel like I’ve let them down. It’s wrenching to think about my kids without me.

But the core of Saturn, Death and order, is diamond. The rain on Saturn is diamonds. Link to article. Extreme pressure turns our dirt into beauty.

Further thought on Saturn and Venus; this passage makes me think that Jesus was Venus to the apostles, and his father was Saturn:

John 15 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2 He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes[a] so that it will be even more fruitful. 3 You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you.4 Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”