Playing With Lightning
Venus has been playing with lightning all day at the outer reaches, no stranger to the crackling Uranian currents that long ago set up camp crackle in her home grounds. The strange music of their signature frequencies in harmonic resonance electrifies the field in the weirdest way. Glitching at the threshold as everything wobbles, turning in on itself to rebirth.
Anaretica, thy name is stubborn refusal. Heels dug in at the lashing tail end of it all, horns swinging with old menace. The double down that just makes it worse. The bait and switch that doesn’t fool anyone. Covers blown as a kindness in service of the future. Love whispering why into the back of even the blackest hearts.
Lightning at the precipice of change can only earth in shifting values and better bedrock. Reflecting the actual revolution of humanity, rather than the televised version. The flags have long been waving but suddenly, or so it seems, the worm has turned.
Craven disregard is on the nose. Deatheaters are back out of fashion. The patently unsustainable is worth less every day. Consumption can kill you again instead of shooting you up the leader board. Conspicuous wealth and psychopathic ambition is finally a tell rather than a goal. Turns out the moral arc of the universe bends just like a scythe. The bad old days are drawing to an inexorable close as the last seven years hang like carcass and everyone tries to wipe the blood off their hands.
Venus telegraphs values above and below all else. When she means business a fresh wave of what's truly important sweeps through the world. Punk pricks the bubbles. Lightning illuminates the truth and eviscerates the rod that draws it. The great greening of minds and flushing of hearts has long threatened the status bro, now forced to bear blessed witness to a sharp rise in the value of feminine currency. Turns out it really is lonely at the top, epidemically so. Only the terminally self interested, the deliberately misdirected and the leaders of the free world fail to read the room now.
With Urania throwing shade and heft around as well anything that no longer works, fits or fights fair is being lit up in sharp relief for the next few days. Great pretenders will be unmasked by these shocks to the system, struck dumb by their impact. The wake up calls will remain deafening, so too all the warning bells.
Do not look away if the blast unseats you or the music of these spheres bursts your eardrums. Any electrocuting impact is a necessary rewiring. Resistance is always futile but now it will only fry your circuits further. Beneath all the sound and fury there is a rushing current that is uniquely yours. Plug deeply in or find yourself falling for any bright spark.
The truth of being human is that we save what we love. We preserve that which we hold dear. We treasure what we cherish. Waysides everywhere prove it. In a time of monsters we protect ourselves by living in alignment with our soul’s codex and enshrining connection that holds us as holy. Living in devotion to the wonders of our worlds and divesting from anything less. This weekend may just ask you to prove it. The new earth isn’t a place but it is most certainly becoming a way.
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Change before you have to // Jack Welch
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Art: Portrait of Urania, 19th Century, British School // Words c. Kerrie Basha, 2025