grinding halt

everythin's comin' to a... –The Cure

my burr grinder broke.

maybe it’s age, product quality, or the stars.

push the button. nothing.

inspect all the contact points,

everything looks clean.

push the button, nothing.

unplug, plug in

push button

nothing.

The Cure rings in my ears, (not only to name my problem, but also to illustrate the energy of this bound, yes…). Here are the lyrics w/ a link to the tune:

~

        No light
        No people
        No speak
        No people
        No cars
        No people
        No food
        No people
        Stopped
        Short
        Grinding halt
        Everything’s coming to a grinding halt

        No sound
        No people
        No clocks
        No people
        No fine
        No people
        No me
        No people

        Stopped
        Short
        Grinding halt
        Everything’s coming to a grinding halt
        Everything’s coming to a grinding halt

        Slow down
        Slow down
        No people
        Slow down
        Everything’s coming to a
        Everything’s coming to a
        Everything’s coming to a
        Everything’s coming to a

~

Now the astrologically literate amongst you may say, well, jenn is saying that because of the Mars/Saturn/Mercury pile up, and I’ll add, that may be true AND, it’s also simply Venus in Taurus in the bounds of Saturn ruling the Sun in her bounds. A recent note by j. m. of starnightdwell articulates this with precision.

this sudden arrest is a threshold

a gate

a move from automation

a return to grinding by hand

ironically for me, the last person i knew who ground their coffee by hand had a Taurus Sun, and would not be rushed to save his own life, nor skip his daily hourslong nap ritual…

grinding gestalt.

in the effort-filled cusp of achieving desire, as worn pathways vanish, and new trails are blazed, a diamond awareness erupts. what comes to a standstill on the material plane accelerates the possible spiritual and mental connections. the abrupt disruptions to habits and patterns of living that prop up definitions of selfhood collapse the artifice, and allow alternate facets of self to emerge, or even cast the entire edifice away . . .

Photo by Ilya Chunin on Unsplash.

“No me,” indeed.

~

I’ll take leave here, have to find a mortar and pestle to alleviate the new technological challenge to my morning routine. See you again on Monday, April 27, near midnight, when the Sun hits a saucy patch of Mercury’s bounds in Taurus.

---

Cover photo by Louis Hansel on Unsplash.