This is coming from an untapped and unnamed place in my being. Unnamed because I haven’t been here before. Untapped because these times are causing me to remember occasions long suppressed.
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26 years ago this week my father was gunned down, shot to death in a random drive-by shooting on the cold streets of East Los Angeles. He was sitting at a bus stop completely unaware of his impending fate. He was the only person who didn’t run for cover fast enough when the shots rang out. His assassin was never found.
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Growing up in a devout Christian home, I would sneak and look at my horoscope to get a feel for what would supposedly take place in my life that day, week or month. I would hear derogatory comments regarding horoscopes and astrology in church or from the general community of believers, equating the practice of astrology to witchcraft and sorcery. However, deep in my heart and soul, the evil they spoke of, never registered. How could beautiful stories written in the sky God created be evil - be wrong, and why would they be forbidden? The restrictions placed on the exploration, discovery, and practice of astrology, seemed to be driven by the fear and ignorance of Christians, more so, than law.
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I have been fascinated by astrology for most of my life. My first significant exposure to it came when I received a birth chart reading at the age of 16. The astrologer was an intriguing older woman with deep piercing eyes. Her name was Ms. McDonald. She lived in Laguna Beach, California, and my reading took place in her apartment, near the deeply blue and pulsating Pacific ocean. What she told me that sunny and beautiful California afternoon, sent me on an exciting search for more understanding. I have been relentless in trying to learn how planets in the sky can affect lives here on earth.
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