Welcoming Spring
According to Webster Dictionary, the definition of the word “auspicious” is: showing or suggesting that future success is likely. This has been my word for 2024 since November of 2023. I’ve had no explanation for this feeling other than that’s just how it feels. Things seem brighter than they did last year, when I felt like I was forcing myself to believe that something good was about to happen even though I knew that everything around me was pointing toward the exact opposite. This time last year, I thought I could fake it until I made it. This time last year, I was fast approaching my 12th house profection year and was trying to tell myself that I could make it good even though astrology and the events that arose were constantly proving otherwise.
This year is different. This spring actually feels like spring; not an extended winter that I’m forcing color into. This spring, I am fast approaching my 1st house profection year, my Jupiter Return, and a Jupiter ruled year according to my solar return chart. I’ve been making progress in projects of mine that were put on hold due to the constant unfortunate events of 2023. I’m happier. I love the job I have right now. I’ve been microdosing and, as a result, I’ve been seeing improvement in my focus and my creativity. I’ve been focusing more on my craft and spirituality and the effect has been an improved sense of self, confidence, and optimism.
Auspicious.
This spring also marks the three year anniversary of the end of the longest relationship I’ve been in so far. We have now been apart longer than we were together. I was talking to my mother recently about how weird that feels, even though I know I’m only 23 and that this is undoubtedly going to be something I face more times than I can yet fathom. I told her that when I was 18, you never would have been able to convince me that my ex and I weren’t going to end up married by the time I was 24 and how sometimes when the wind hits a certain way, I’m forced back into memories I’d forgotten:
Me crying on the rooftop of our apartment building after a fight. Him coming up to find me and giving me a hug, apologizing. Him rushing into our bedroom when one of his roommates was having a crisis, ready to comfort me because he knew I'd been having nightmares and that I would wake up in a panic at the screaming. The spread of gifts for Valentine’s Day — my first real Valentine’s day — and the way I thought my heart would explode. My 19th birthday and the tickets he got us for Phantom of the Opera, live at the Blaisdell; how I cried and cried because I was so happy and felt so seen by someone for the first time in my life.
I tell her that these memories used to make me so angry. I couldn’t understand how the man that had made me feel so adored, desired, safe was also the same man who had managed to make me feel so worthless, disposable, and anxious. The first year after the breakup had been spent in the depths of grief and anger. I turned to alcohol, hoping it would be just the poison I needed to erase him out of my mind forever, erased and replaced with blacked-out memories of Malibu and the sound of my gags echoing in the toilet. I hated him, I hated that I’d wasted so much time with him, and I hated that I still loved him. Last year, I tried not to think about him at all but always failed, remembering all the best traits about him and writing them down so I could make them standards for my next partner.
This year is different. When I think about these memories, I am once again filled with so much love and happiness, but not any longing or feelings of anger or missing out. This year, I am in awe at the capacity of love I gave and received at a time where I feel like it would have been impossible for others to do the same. Recently, I was meditating and it hit me just how loved I have been and I began crying in gratitude, realizing what a blessing it is that I have been able to experience so much love at such a young age. I realized I am also grateful for the heartbreak that came after because it allowed me to shift my perspective on love and respect and compassion and just how worthy everyone is of it. I realized I had so much compassion for him and the way he ended things, now knowing after a conversation I’ve had with him just what his mindset was at the time. I’ve also realized that other people’s actions really don’t have anything to do with us — something I was always aware of but never had such a direct and personal experience to confirm that with for myself. I spent so long thinking that I had done something wrong when the truth was he was feeling so much anxiety about where he was in his life at the time that he didn’t know what to do other than completely dissociate from everything and everyone around him, including me and the life we were building together.
And that’s okay. I’m proud of him for doing what he needed to do for himself, for having the courage to step into the unknown and scary future that was awaiting him at the time. He was stepping into his growth. I was hurt. Both things can be true at once.
As this spring has been approaching, I’ve noticed that I have now almost completely lost all or most contact with the friends I made when the breakup had just happened. At first, this thought made me sad. But after further reflection, I’ve realized that the safety net I needed at the time is now something that would be hindering me from moving forward. I’ve made new friends, of course, and they are more compatible with this version of myself and where I’m going. They are people that, unlike my old friends, are people that I can see walking into this auspicious year with me, ready to celebrate all my wins and pick me up after all the disappointments. The people I incorporated into my life when I was knee deep in alcoholism were equipped with the skills to help me at that time, but not the ones I need now.
And that’s okay.
This spring is reminding me about impermanence and how everything ends so that more can grow that is better for you. As I approach my 1st house profection year, I am full of excitement for everything that is to come and everything that is about to happen for me.
Luckily, the feeling is real this time.
