Capricorn Birthdays--Alexander Hamilton

 

Master Passion/Alexander Hamilton/Schuyler A Master Passion

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Here we are again in January, which is a month crowded with family birthdays as well as the birthdays of two of my great heroes. As to the family birthdays, I have two cousins, an uncle, my mother, and two granddaughters who were born in this month--Capricorns, everyone. They prize stability, are detail-oriented and hard workers. 

As to my heroes, the gentleman above, Hamilton, was born under Capricorn. He was therefore--according to the astrologers--the perfect man to have been America's first Secretary of the Treasury. Trained in the laws of commerce, he was the first balancer of our new nation's books, which, after the War of Independence were a sea of red ink. This initial knotty problem was solved through his knowledge of the way the young global economy functioned, as well as and a lot of unpleasant negotiating with the less well-fiscally-educated members of the legislature. In fact, some of what have proved to be America's original sins--those that endlessly plague us today, are the result of the political horse-trading--the compromises--that were necessary to stabilize a totally broke infant republic. 

Hamilton was also one of the three Founding Fathers who authored The Federalist Papers. From that framework, the one created by those three thoughtful lawyers, (Hamilton, Madison, and Jay) our American Constitution was born. Hamilton, who loved

an elaborate sentence, doubtless was the most verbose, though James Madison, the bachelor with whom his young family shared a back garden at the time, was a deeper philosopher and a pithier wordsmith. 

I follow on with a series of quotes from this statesman, "the ten dollar bill guy." There is plenty to chew on here, the words of a man who lived and died according to an elevated personal code of honor. I wish there were more in public service today who were as far-sighted, as self-sacrificing, and as honest. Unlike so many legislators today, Hamilton did not feather his nest while he held power. Within three years of his death, his wife had to sell their fine country home and take her seven children into New York City to live in a rented apartment.

 "There are seasons in every country when noise and impudence pass current for worth; and in popular commotions especially, the clamors of interested and factious men are often mistaken for patriotism."

"In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place, oblige it to control itself."

“The inquiry constantly is what will please, not what will benefit the people. In such a government there can be nothing but temporary expedient, fickleness, and folly.” 

"History will teach us that...those men who have overturned the liberties of republics, the greatest number have begun their career by paying an obsequious court to the people; commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants."

“For in politics, as in religion, it is equally absurd to aim at making proselytes by fire and sword. Heresies in either can rarely be cured by persecution.”

“If the federal government should overpass the just bounds of its authority and make a tyrannical use of its powers, the people, whose creature it is, must appeal to the standard they have formed, and take such measures to redress the injury done to the Constitution as the exigency may suggest and prudence justify.”

“Divide et impera must be the motto of every nation that either hates or fears us.”

“Constitutions should consist only of general provisions; the reason is that they must necessarily be permanent, and that they cannot calculate for the possible change of things.” 

"Now mark my words. So long as we are a young and virtuous people, this instrument (the Constitution) will bind us together in mutual interests, mutual welfare and mutual happiness, but when we become old and corrupt, it will bind us no longer."

~ Juliet Waldron

 

      

     

Journey to the Queen of the Fairies

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A long-time Canadian friend is a shamanic practitioner. She lives with her husband in a tiny house way up the valley of the Ottawa and therefore uses zoom to expand her reach to interested folks. She is learned in the Irish Celtic traditions. The mythology of Ancient Ireland is foreign to me, but she is deep into the stories and characters, which are, about as far away from the European schoolroom- familiar Classical tradition as you can be. 

The Irish origin story was long thought to be little but another product of the famed Irish imagination. That is, until recently. DNA studies have suggested that the traditional tale of an epic journey to a far off island by a tribe of cattle herders is a true one. 

These cattle loving, builders of stone monuments arrived during the Neolithic. Later, the Romans were unable to colonize Ireland--they had enough on their hands with the British, Scots and Welsh!  After the Romans, the earliest Christian monks were sufficiently open-minded to commit some of this ancient oral tradition to manuscript, which is why we have some of these stories today. 

These tell of gods, goddesses, heroes and queens plus a truly outstanding array of monsters and supernatural beings. They have come down to us in a way that the gods of the various ancient Britannic people have not. Much of the Irish story is certainly lost and much is probably garbled by the monkish recorders, but it is fascinating to me how long what is basically a tribal history can be remembered, if it is not intentionally erased by some colonizing power.  

 

My friend is an expert hand drummer. She also teaches yoga and conducts trance journey sessions, one of which I attended on the night of the Summer Solstice. This is a liminal time, like the other moments of transition from one season to another. 

Long ago, these seasonal changes were marked by observations of the "circling sky," --the rising of certain stars, the moon's path and that of the sun--were of crucial importance, first to hunter/gatherers who followed animal, fish, and bird migrations. When agriculturalists came on the scene, they used the same observations for planting and harvests.

It was wonderful to feel that I was about to be part of a timeless ceremony. Although this one happened to be conducted via the internet, it felt authentic. Needs must! And the only thing that has really changed is human technology, for the human emotional brain remains the same. I was simply grateful to be able to join in.

Effective drumming, (like chanting or ritual dance), puts the listener into a non-ordinary state of mind. You enter a space where imagination leads the way. Learning and expectations naturally play a part, for everyone present had their own unique image of "fairies" and how the Queen of this Wild Court might show herself that night. 

We shared afterward, although this was not required. (Nothing is "required" of participants except participation--focus on the drum, and be present.)  When the drum went quiet, we shared. Everyone, it seemed, had gone by a different path to a very different place. Some of us saw "our" Queen of the Fairies; others got lost on the path. 

When we closed our spritual doors and went our separate ways, I walked outside, to watch the sun's setting. This meant, however, that I was facing east. There to greet me, through a hole in the neighbor's prosaic, overgrown arborvitae hedge, was the full moon, magnified because she was still very low on the horizon. 

I live in a tourist town and there is always noise, lots of traffic, street racers, trucks, lawn mowing and general two stroke engine racket. On this night, there was only a miraculous silence, a kind of ambient hum behind. Only the birds were speaking, twittering, as they settled down in twilight. Bumblebees still dangled from milkweed in my garden. To the west, the sun showed a final full disc of molten gold. Under the old apple tree, four bunnies played, jumping over one another surrounded by clouds of fireflies, sparkling as they floated up on every side.

~~Juliet Waldron