Yesterday marked the Sun’s ingress into Taurus, which for some people is like the greatest thing EVAR and for others is like the worst thing EVAR. On the upside, Taurus is the most sensual, body-oriented sign, so it can involve a lot of digging around in the garden, gorging yourself with chocolate, and big sloppy fuckfests. On the downside, Taurus is also one of the thriftiest and most conservative signs, so it can also involve a lot of paying for things with exact change and eating the same pot of turkey chili for two weeks so you can afford to open an IRA. It’s funny how in Taurus, you have to be willing to do a lot of the second thing so that you can afford to do the first thing later on. Some of us, however, are just not that patient, which means instant fail in Taurus world.
Truth be told, Taurus energy has always been very hard for me to wrap my head around, both astrologically and in life. In my mind, I would certainly like to live in a more Taurus-friendly way- that is to say, clean house, three healthy square meals a day, growing my own vegetables, knitting my own blankets, with a good-sized savings account, but certain other mitigating factors in my life prevent this, in ways that totally elude me. When I think about it, it’s probably actually more denial than misunderstanding, since both my parents are Tauruses. “Whoa, hold on a minute!” you might be exclaiming, “both your parents are Tauruses?!” My entire life, people who don’t even know astrology have yelled that at me, like it’s THAT BAD. For a Pisces-Gemini-Gemini, it’s certainly not EASY, I’ll say that much. It’s hard for two Tauruses to understand that you can’t tell your Pisces-Gemini-Gemini child to just “stop being so sensitive,” like she’s doing it on purpose. But for the most part, it’s certainly not THE WORST sign you could want for a parent.
I look at my parents as exemplifying the two stereotypical extremes of Taurus, based on both my natal Sun-Moon square and the uneducated moron’s view of Taurus. My mom is what the uneducated moron might refer to as the “good Taurus.” She has always been the mom who wants all of my friends to come sleep over, like ALL OF THEM AT THE SAME TIME so she can cook for everyone and show us her new Max Ernst book or play us her new CD of Syrian wedding music. Without realizing it, I think my mom’s secret dream is to operate a bed and breakfast, or a home for wayward children; I think the most people we’ve ever had living in the house I grew up in at one time were my parents, myself, my sister, my sister’s boyfriend, another friend of ours in town to do an internship, and a German exchange student. And if anyone else had wanted to crash for a while, my mom would certainly not have said no. In addition to being the hostess with the mostess, my mom is also an expert shopper who rarely ever buys anything from a designer label at full price, and she has never been stingy with anything that could make herself or me and my sister more beautiful. She’s the mom who instructed me that if I see something basic I really like, I should get one in every color, and we can spend hours poring over vintage jewelry and stuff that a lot of girls have to fight their mothers to enjoy. She even offered to pay for a nose job if I wanted one. (I actually don’t, but thanks, Mom.) In short, a “cool Taurus.”
My dad, on the other hand, is what the uneducated astrologer might refer to as a “bad Taurus.” This is not to say that my dad is not a nice person, or doesn’t enjoy having twenty million other peoples’ kids in his house at one time, or even that he isn’t generous- he (and my mom) have always made donations to NOW and Southern Poverty Law Center and whatever presidential candidate they happen to be supporting at the time. He just doesn’t share my mom’s pleasure-and-quality Taurus outlook, because his is overshadowed by a thrift-and-economy Taurus outlook, especially around food. I cannot even count the number of times that he has rationed out my food into pitiful workhouse portions, telling me, “See if you can finish that before I give you any more,” even when I was a husky thirteen and fourteen years old and clearly capable of eating four times that amount, and he always seems to flinch a little when my mom starts plating up doggie bags to give everyone after we’ve had dinner company. And it could also just be a male thing, but unlike me and my mom, he has not come to terms with the fact that looking presentable requires shelling out a little bit of cash. He’ll be the first person to point out when a woman is unattractive and be disgusted, but then he’ll harangue me about, “Why would you need to spend $250 getting your hair highlighted? Isn’t the stuff in the box good enough? Why did those shoes cost $125 on sale? I only pay $10 to get a haircut, why can’t you do that?” His version of quality spending and comfort involves the word long-term- which is smart, don’t get me wrong, but not always totally practical for everyone, especially not in my situation.
My situation being that I am 1) a girl, whose physical appearance is a major part of one of her four jobs, 2) not really being paid enough just yet to invest for anything long-term, and 3) away from home too often and for too little pay to live a life that has any routine or security. When I do come home I’m still so tired and/or busy that to say I live like a cross between the kids in Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome and Big and Little Edie in Grey Gardens is absolutely no exaggeration. Once my Taurus best friend (who also has Pluto as a final dispositor, but in a different house than I do) spent the night, and she remarked how she admired that I was able to go about my life at home without letting the staggering mess upset me, that she would obsess over it and not be able to function until it was spotless. As if to say that I’m totally okay with the mess. My parents have not seen my bedroom in my apartment since I moved in there, mostly because I’m concerned about them having early heart failure, especially my mom. I think what my parents and best friend don’t always realize, in their Taurean cocoon, is that it’s not that I’m resisting living like a human and not a feral child/reclusive blueblood. My natal chart AND my life just don’t afford me that kind of internal order. It’s a big effort for me to 1) carve out the time to get myself organized and 2) actually have the wherewithal to maintain that kind of routine. Short of FlyLady coming and standing over me with a whip while I throw everything into garbage bags, the transition from chaos to order is not going to happen just instantaneously for me.
That’s why I’m hoping I can actually gear myself up to utilize the Taurus period. I’m going to be away for work for quite a bit of it, but changes made during a Sun in Taurus transit stick, and if I can at least get everything where it’s supposed to be (like in real life, not in my mind), I’ll have made a start in the right direction, which will be somewhat of a good birthday present for my parents. And ultimately, less of a polarization between the two sides of Taurus. Not good, not bad, just secure, and enjoying it. And when I am done, I am going to eat so much chocolate OMFG.
