Astrologically speaking, I am a Leo. A Leo I, to be exact, I was born in the Week
of Authority. I have always loved lions
and legitimately try to fashion my hair like a lion’s illustrious mane. And the idea of authority has always been a
puzzle to me. I am deeply respectful of
teachers, healers and mentors who are in positions of authority, often blindly
bowing to the answers they seem to provide. However, I have struggled with finding and
respecting the authority within, failing to trust my own internal compass, and
sense of knowing. It is difficult to
have faith in oneself when you are in the grips of the roar of the inner
critic. For symbolic purpose, I will
hereby refer to my inner critic as a lion.
Its characteristics are similar to that of a lion, being strong,
powerful and fierce. And boy, has its
roar been loud lately! So loud, that it
has made my essential self ever smaller, to the size of a little mouse.
As a Four, one of my greatest strengths and alternately my
greatest weakness is my romantic idealism. I have incredibly high hopes, high
expectations, high ideals, and high romantic visions. They are so high that they all live above me,
in a Kingdom of my own creation, nestled sweetly and safely on a cloud. I love that Kingdom on a cloud. I love to look at it and wistfully dream
about the one day that I will live there.
A challenge that I have been experiencing, as of late, is questioning
on whether I will ever get to those dreams in the sky. I try to set goals that would be like
stepping stones, or Jack’s beanstalk, carrying me little by little up to that
pristine palace of romantic vision. To
set goals is not difficult for me. In
fact, they become their very own little castles.
Let me be specific, a goal I am currently trying achieve is
to create a self-care routine that I can commit to on a consistent basis. It’s a beautiful goal I have for myself, one
that includes treating myself with love and respect. In this dream of a goal, I would be
implicitly healthy. I would wake up
early in the morning, excited to meet my day.
I would have a practice of meditation, and gratitude and prayer, being
thankful for all that God and the Universe has given to me. I would treat my body like a goddess, feeding
it only those foods that are most life affirming and nutritious. I would go for long jogs in the park, able to
clear my head of negative thoughts. I
would practice yoga, feeling the strength and length of my beautiful body. I would go for dance classes, feeling free
and having fun while letting my heart beat fast. Oh, this goal of self-care is so
beautiful. But oh, to get there seems so
impossible.
So, I have carefully constructed this goal, this dream. It is pure and untouched and full of endless
hope and possibility. I stand outside of
the castled creation, a little mouse underneath the drawbridge door, waiting
for it to lower so I can enter. The lion
stands beside me, berating me with its critiques. Every step I take, the door recedes, eluding
my small efforts. The lion roars loader,
taunting me, tearing me down with its claws.
“You are worthless. You are
nothing. You have no willpower. You have no strength or courage. You’ll never achieve what you want. You’ll never be who you want to be. You might as well give up.” And on and on he growls. The fire of his roar is singeing my little
mouse body and I feel completely and utterly useless and powerless.
I am reminded of the Aesop’s Fable, The Lion and the
Mouse. It was the mouse that rescued the
lion from the hunter’s snare, by slowly nibbling away at the ropes, ultimately
freeing the lion. Inspired by the
strength that this tiny creature exhibited, I looked up the symbolism of the
mouse, and what I found was quite amazing.
The mouse is a symbol of trust in the Divine, of humility and simplicity
and gentleness. It is the mouse that is
able to break a large problem (or goal) into smaller pieces and deal with one
part at a time, slowly but surely, achieving its goal.
I know my lion has a purpose. I know its roar comes from a frustration, of
wanting to be free, so that I can be my best self. It is instructing me on what it is that I
really want and long for, on what is important to me and why. In some way, it is encouraging me not to give
up. And I can use the gentleness of the
mouse to assuage the lion’s fear and to free it from its ropes of imprisonment. Not to be crippled by the lion’s grip, or
reduced to a puddle of shame by the lion’s shadow, but to treat my inner critic
with compassion, as I go about my merry way, taking my sweet time, of slowly
and deliciously nibbling towards my dream.
Maybe it won’t be as fast as I want it to be, maybe it won’t be as
grandiose as I imagine it to be, but I know for sure, if I can free that lion
from off my back, I’ll get there one way or another.
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