“You see, even after decades of therapy and workshops and retreats and twelve-steps and meditation and even experiencing a very weird session of rebirthings, even after rappeling down mountains and walking over hot coals and jumping out of airplanes and watching elephant races and climbing the Great Wall of China, and even after floating down the Amazon and taking ayahuasca with an ex-husband and a witch doctor and speaking in tongues and fasting (both nutritional and verbal), I remained pelted and plagued by feelings of uncertainty and despair. Yes, even after sleeping with a senator, and waking up next to a dead friend, and celebrating Michael Jackson’s last Christmas with him and his kids, I still did not feel—how shall I put this?—mentally sound.”
Carrie Fisher was a Neptunian and even if Neptune did not break her heart, it sure as hell tired it out. She was always open – some would say to a practically shamanic degree – about her various battles with addiction, drugs, the Lilac Wine, mental illness and all.
What do i mean by shamanic? In ancient traditions, the shaman is someone who would journey into other realms to negotiate or clear crap out at an ethereal level, on behalf of the patient or petitioner. They would interpret omens and dreams, intuit cures. Her celebrity & security as a member of an old Hollywood dynasty lent her strength to speak candidly about taboo subjects in such a style that a discussion was opened and people felt augmented in their similar struggles. At least, i think this is how it worked in part.
She was Sun conjunct Neptune with Mars in Pisces at an interesting angle to her Mercury in Libra. Though i appreciate that to many she was an icon because of her Princess Leia role in Star Wars, i don’t personally align with that so much and reprising that role in the latest Star Wars – with all the talk and publicity obligations that generated – WAS her 2nd Saturn Return. AKA potentially a massive stress factor. Albeit a lucrative one.
But honestly, for an introvert with dignified Capricorn Rising and an exalted home-body Moon in Taurus, would it really have been that much of a buzz having to travel around and to talk about how, no, she wasn’t as hot now as forty years ago or salacious details about having had sex with Harrison Ford/worn underwear/whatever?
Really, she was a genius writer and (i just learned this) script editor.
“Sometimes she’d just walk around the city alone. Watch the people, smell the food, the bus exhaust, the smoke coming up through the grating. She’d feel protected somehow, found a sense of belonging in the hectic sprawl. And the next minute she’d feel like the one who couldn’t break the code, hit the right stride, catch the wave. Potholes and traffic and bums, oh my. With all the honking and the hum of movement, the living, breathing blur of noise gently pressing in on her, the great purr of the Metropolitan Cat turning into a dull roar. She’d feel so silent on the inside, her head as quiet as a stretch of sand, a cathedral silently worshipping the life that was all around her, storing it up for later when she needed some ‘too much’ to draw upon.”
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