In Marfa, I beam in vibrant aliveness.
I am lushly whole-souled, here.
I pay close attention to when I experience embodiment, when I live inside complete safety and exuberant comfort in my skin. I tend to maneuver around half-embodied, from the heart and up, as if my spirit still questions full presence for this incarnation, tentative about rooting itself to the energies of the earth.
But in Marfa, I breathe as a whole-souled human. My embodied presence pours into the soles of my feet. Every cell spins in heightened awareness that grounds and elates my being.
And on this windswept plain, I radiate in enhanced wonder, as if the fading light will illuminate secrets on this stretch of enchanted land where mystery lights bounce into appearance and play.
The mountains elegantly wear the tangerines and hot pinks of sunset like royal crowns, and these are the same mountains that I rush to in my twilight moments before sleep, cradling into their ancient majesty.
The periwinkle sky pales to reveal the first glimmer of stars, and I adjust my hat as the wind whistles another song.
My mother stands on the rough dirt patch that borders the mystery lights plain. Her presence here in Marfa teeters on surreal, almost as if the mystery lights are more believable than her companionship.
A late night conversation in Kentucky about road tripping west startles both of us into a full-fledged reality.
“How did I get here?” she muses as we marvel at cacti, meander through stark and striking modern art galleries, crunch on homemade toast smothered in butter, and carefully consider crystals in a shop frequented by a spirit who speaks in door chimes.
I’m uncertain of how the winds carried us here, together, because I’ve traveled here before and will do so again, and to share a cherished corner of the globe with my wondrous mother shines as an exceptionally precious gift.
I am certain that this is all divine timing, this is all the grand orchestration of the elegant stars.
I’ll let you into a secret written in my astrological birth chart, my darling loves: this unexpected and spontaneous trip with my mother out west, to my soul home of Marfa, curiously aligns with my Saturn Return.
The dawn of 2020 cues my fated appointment with Saturn.
I’ve been preparing for this Saturn Return for years. First informed when I’m twenty-six and aching for a change, and I’ve already been summoned to move to Texas, a soul-call I fear that if ignored I’ll forever regret.
My star-reader points to the chart dancing in loops and stars, describing a distant and not-too-far-into-the-future cosmic check-in we all journey through, well, every twenty-sevenish years, where we are summoned to review if we are living in integrity with our soul, if we’ve been adhering and acting on our intuitive whispers, if we are honoring our truth.
A month ago, the soul-call to Texas answered, I eat tacos and drink an Irish coffee with an Austin friend, a star-reader, and she too excitedly reminds me that my Saturn Return winks on the horizon.
And here I am on the western plain with my magnificent mother, watching the horizon to catch perhaps a glimpse of those mysterious lights.
I come to my Saturn Return like I come to Marfa: empty of expectations, liberated into a deep listening.
Show me.
Show me where there is alignment.
Show me where there are self-sabotaging patterns.
Show me where there’s love, and the need for love.
My soul listens.
The western wind streams compassionate awareness through my narratives, my wild and serene heart-landscape.
I let inspiration flow to me. I’m not chasing you anymore.
I receive love as it flows to me. I’m not blocking you anymore.
I release the anguish. I do not need to hold you anymore.
I cut the self-criticism at its rooted core. I don’t need to internalize criticism to feel safe anymore.
I stand in this practice: returning and reining in replenished embodied presence.
“You’re still twenty-nine,” my mother smiles at me when I draw grand generalizations about my thirties.
My mother exudes a kind wisdom that brings me home to the now.
She’s right. I am twenty-nine breathing in the winter wind wisely propelling me to be dazzlingly here for the spectacular painting of stars, this sensational moment of exploring the west with the woman who inspires my faith in the goodness of humanity.
My Saturn Return does show me what I need to know. The intertwined magic of Marfa and my mama reaffirms that what I need to know always exist in the present. The whole-souled aliveness of far-west Texas travels with me, and steadies me in a wild serenity for 2020.