Lizard Queen

I have a friend that has turned into an acquaintance.  Not because we've had a falling out or anything dramatic like that but just because I don't see him every day at work anymore.  He's changed locations and moved on.  It's the normal ebb and flow of people that come into and out of a life.  I still see bits of him on social media but we've kind of lost touch, as people do.  His name is Steve.  And he's sort of a mystic-type person.  You know, the type of person that drops information all over you based on whatever the universe, or God, or whatever is telling him about you.  I adore Steve but I tend to take this sort of thing with a grain of salt.  Because I'm rational and shit.

Back in February 2013, when l had just been handed two ginormous soap-opera-style, What-The-Fuck-is-Happening-to-My-Life events, he told me rather casually, that I should probably start mentally letting go everything.  Everything.   Because I was just starting in on two years of loss.  His reasons for this prediction was as follows:

1) In Chinese Astrology I'm a dragon and this is my Chinese Astrological dragon lot and

2) Because that's what he was seeing for me anyway.

"You shouldn't think of these losses as necessarily bad," he said.  "That's thinking of loss in terms of western thought.  You should think of it in Asian terms; Yin and Yang.  Balance.  Deconstruction making way for new construction.  The phoenix rising from the ashes.  The lizard losing it's skin.  But, yeah.  You're going into a two year season of loss." 

Had he told me something fortunate was headed my way I'd probably be a lot more accepting of the prediction.  Everyone likes to hear happy or flattering information in regards to their future.  But a two year shit storm?  I'll take a pass, thanks.  I decided that beyond the fact I don't believe in astrology to begin with, if I did, common sense dictates that Asian astrology belongs to Asian people and since I'm not Asian, it wouldn't apply.   There!  Done.   I can't be expected to keep up with an entire world filled with local superstitions and regional belief-system whatnot.  What does seeing a shooting star mean in Norway?  What about in Borneo?  Would I have good juju if I moved my bed to the other side of the room if my bedroom was in say, Pakistan?  What about red shoes in France?  Cheerful accessory or invitation to disaster?

My friend Julie yells at me when I leave my purse on the floor because it's considered bad luck to do so in the Philippines.  "Your money will drain out," she says.  Again, this rule applies to people in/from the Philippines.   My grandmother had a bunch of superstition rules, too.  And I *hate* that I remember them.  Did you know that if a bird flies into your house it means that someone is going to die?  Of course someone is going to die.  Because someone is always going to die.  We all are going to die eventually.   And I hate to break it to Julie, but I suck keeping track of my cash and it doesn't matter where I put my purse.

I don't have time for this nonsense. 

But despite rational thought, the losses continued.  Within the last two years, I have lost five significant relationships.  The kind of relationships that tether a person to a life and an identity.   The ones that explain who you are, where you belong, and that give comfort to you when you're in the midst of losing your shit; literally and figuratively.

One. By. One.

Gone.

I've got the burnt down to ashes part down.

The phoenix, I'm still figuring out.