Just yesterday I finally moved some of my furniture back into place after living with it in the middle of my apartment for the past few weeks. I’m not sure I can describe the exquisite relief of placing my plant back where it belongs on my beautiful bookshelf back where it belongs. Unfortunately, it turns out that my embrace of normalcy was premature because not three hours later I spotted a bed bug on my bed. And it wasn’t moving like a zombie the way the few I spotted early last week did, all on its last legs, oh no. This one was spry and fresh and making its way across my bed linen without a care in the world.
I actually started weeping. After I squashed it, of course.
I’m beginning to feel as though this will never ever ever end. I cannot explain what it’s like to live with all my belongings in plastic bags, the furniture piled up in the middle of the room, navigating through towers of my plastic wrapped belongings like a hoarder who has forgotten what she even owns. This is quite contrary to my normal way of living. Left to my own devices my home is generally very organized, open and easy on the eyes. I prefer a rather formal aesthetic. With Saturn (order) in the 4th (home) in mutual reception with Venus (beauty) that’s no surprise.
I’ve noticed over the past few weeks that I’m getting sadder and sadder, feeling more and more hopeless, returning to old feelings of depression and despair. I’ve been watching a lot of tv. I have four or five emails I need to respond to that have been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Everything is sliding. It’s so dramatic after how happy I was just a month ago, and it’s pretty clear to me it’s related to the current state of my home. Waking up to this mess all I want to do is go back to sleep.
Pluto at ten degrees Capricorn isn’t just transiting my Sun, it’s transiting the asteroid Sisyphus, which is conjunct my Sun. The fact that the asteroid Sisyphus is conjunct my Sun is the very thing that made me start paying attention to asteroids in the first place, it’s just so on the nose, and describes my experience so precisely. The legend of Sisyphus, you may remember, is the one where the guy is doomed to all eternity to forever push an enormous rock up a hill only to have it roll back down the moment he reaches the summit.
For most of my life I have struggled with the nagging certainty that there really is no point to anything, effort is essentially a waste of time, so the legend of Sisyphus speaks to me, I identify with it.
The lesson of Sisyphus, at least as far as I can tell, is to release oneself from expectation or interest in outcome. There is only now, there is only pushing a boulder up a hill. There is no point, it just is. Theoretically this is actually no bad thing. It’s very zen, actually.
If I could squash the myth of Sisyphus inside me the way I squashed that bug last night, oh I fucking would. But I know better by now. The only way out is through. There is no end to bed bugs, there is only battle with them. There is no security, no home in my home right now. The only thing I’ve been able to keep ordered and collected and familiar is writing here. So I will just keep doing it. Not because there is anywhere to get, but because. Just. Because.
I don’t have to know why, I don’t have to worry about getting to the top because there is no top. There is no place to get. There is only here and now and this here boulder and my shoulder leaning hard against it.
Deep breath. Push