Love Advice from Saturn

A man bought a property with a well on it. What’s that, he asked? Oh that’s where you get your water from, said a neighbor. The man didn’t know much about wells and within a few months he used up all the water in the well. One day the bucket came up empty. That’s no good, he thought. I need to fill my well up again. Since he had no more water, he threw whatever he could find into the well, cans of coke and beer and old swamp water he collected from behind the outhouse; he even tried pissing in the well, but nothing seemed to work. In the end the well got all jammed up with the junk he threw in there, and he had to move to a new house, with a new well, where the same thing happened. The man is still moving houses every time his well runs dry.

Someone should have told him that wells replenish themselves after a while – the main thing is not to exhaust the supply of water, and to give time for new water to bubble up from the ground. But since he threw lots of junk into the well, there was no way for the water to come through, and what little did was too polluted to drink.

Another metaphor, perhaps more suited to Saturn, god of agriculture and harvest: when a field has been harvested of its crops, it is sometimes necessary to raze that field – set fire to the surface – and leave it fallow for a year, so that the nutrients in the soil can be replenished, and crops grow abundant again the following year.

The field, the well – the human heart.

To fear the wound is to fear the pussy, and vice versa.

We do not miss the water until the well runs dry, because until it does, we cannot imagine it ever will. So we deplete the resources of the well – our inner being – by using the water of our emotions - and our sexuality - carelessly and wantonly.

To not exhaust the waters of our inner being would be best. But personal love is a desperate thing, and our first few tries at it, we cannot help but squeeze and suck the life out of it, mostly from a fear of losing it! Just so, a man drinks more water than he needs, out of fear the well will someday run dry.

Once the waters are dried up and the taste of true love has grown bitter, we seek a new love to take away that bitter taste. It would be wiser to remain in that bitterness, to allow the empty void within us to remain and not try to fill it, no matter how great our emptiness becomes. By holding that space, as the days of our longing increase, what is under the surface of our emptiness begins to bubble forth. The longer we hold the space, the more deeply we are able to be in that space, the greater the pull, the desire to be filled.

Nature abhors a vacuum.

When we try to fill that emptiness, we prevent the natural laws of the Universe from intervening, in their own sweet time, from correcting that imbalance and filling the void with our heart’s unspoken desire. This can only happen when the desire remains unspoken and unacted upon.

Perform a ceremony to Venus. Give thanks to all those women who have temporarily filled the void within you, but who have been unable to satisfy the bottomless longing of your wound. Thank them and wish them well. This will help to clear the space of that clutter which you tossed into the well, hoping to fill it, knowing not how.

In your thanks and appreciation to Venus – as you surrender your longing – be also identified with Venus, as you are, in that wound, the wounded Venus, the cat that would stalk out of her own sense of wounded longing. Be not the one who takes, but the one who receives; be not the conqueror but the conquered.

The solar hero? One who holds that space for Woman to fill. The one who restrains his desire from a still deeper desire: to protect and heal the wounded anima.

Saturn says: allow thy austerity to reign in thy passion, and put thy passion in service of thy virtue.

A little like the Knights of old….