Lynn Wilson Astrology

ON A PERSONAL NOTE

Katrina has made me very aware in a concrete way that we are all one. The outpouring of support from all over the country has been phenomenal. On a personal level my own floodgates have finally broken open. I have been crying/weeping ever since viewing Sunday’s Meet the Press with Tim Russert. He interviewed Aaron Broussard, president of Jefferson Parish, who broke down while recounting his experiences. FEMA was not missing in action: FEMA/Homeland Security was on the ground turning back supply trucks that had been lined up since Monday morning to bring food/water and fuel into the city (Jefferson Parish is on the western side of Orleans and would have been first to receive these supplies). FEMA/Homeland Security actually cut the lines of communication to the emergency headquarters in Jefferson Parish. Sheriff Harry Lee (ridiculed in the national press years ago for outrageous behavior) came in with armed guards, restored communications and stood guard over the building – protecting it from FEMA/Homeland Security. You can order a transcript from http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032608/

Many of you know of my conflicted feelings about the city. The yankee in me was horrified by the very same qualities that attracted me/others – qualities that supported the growth of great creativity. I know many people who visit the city regularly to get their creative juices flowing again. It’s the city where I metamorphosed from professional horsewoman to astrologer, my profession in each case defining, being defined by, who I am on a soul level. The man who was a catalyst for that change in calling is someone I have always referred to as Mr. New Orleans. This photo in the Austin American Statesman let me know that he had survived the storm: (Austin American Statesman and CNN) Those of you who fly Southwest will know him as The Silver Mardi Gras Man, from an image published in their annual photography contest.   Bob had my chart done by a total stranger when I was in the midst of an unpleasant divorce with an infant daughter to raise, and no property – not a great scenario for someone in the horse business. The experience changed my life and gave birth to the person most of you know today.

My daughter was born in this below sea level city, and she is an interesting gumbo of yankee efficiency and New Orleans’ social grace. She mourns this city that is very much in her bloodstream and soul.

I always referred to the city as having a very valuable role in carrying the shadow for the entire country. When I hear remarks from someone like Dennis Hastert who says we should bulldoze the city I wonder about what happens to our collective soul if we give in to the desire to bury our shadow so easily. I think we have an opportunity as a culture to wake up and truly see the shadow in bright daylight at this point in time. We need to acknowledge the results of the collective fear that has allowed us to ignore the consequences of current social policy: Why is FEMA controlled by the Dept of Homeland Security? Why is any Walmart, particularly one built in the projects, allowed to sell guns? Why have we allowed our right to privacy to be demolished? Why have we financially supported the invasion of another country, spending ourselves into impotence? How will the balance of power shift, now that countries like Cuba are offering millions in foreign aid as well as offering to put their medical personnel on the ground? And the obvious manifestation of shadow that is so evident in the national media – the growing divide between rich and poor. I wonder what Dennis Hastert et al feel we should do with the people they so are clearly uncomfortable acknowledging? Are we able to face our own shadow? I can only hope so. The place that allowed my shadow to surface, be recognized and integrated lies in shambles at the moment and it will take a while for all of us to process and recover.