Pluto Applies- Assessing My Great Transition and the New Stage That Awaits

I am taking a break from packing, reading, sorting and preparing for my next leg of this Plutonian journey I have been on for the last two and a half years, one that feels as though it is the only really significant positively powerful transition I have undergone in my short but action-packed life thus far. Buried in a pile of detailed journals charting the often treacherous territory of the landscape of my great Pluto transit, I am assessing where I have been, where I am, and where I am going since this all began.

These magic books so full of power, pain, discomfort, hope, discovery and failure, tell the often scattered story that now makes contextual sense to me as I rapidly approach this incredible revolution of my world stage. After full acceptance of and submission to singularity in life, I prepare to merge my world with a partner for the good of all involved, and the mutual empowerment and spiritual advancement of each individual soon to be bonded in daily life. Such a change is upon us, and I am both ecstatic and pensive. Realities shift, worlds move, dimensions open, and I am smothered in life. This seems to have been the essence of the invitation from Pluto to emerge or self-destruct.

I stumble across a poem written innocently not so long ago in one of these precious books, that somehow seems so much more naive and energetically akin to my adolescent self than to my current state of being. The regressed teen writes,

"The astronaut girl depends on the stars to make her humble again. She requires the Universal Revolution that belongs to dust and matter and all seeming happenstance. She survives by that which is abstract in reality. She, the reason to believe in astronauts, in space travel, in the exploration of all that is jagged, derelict, presumptuous space. She, who continues the floating fight, well within the shell of hollow graham. She the requiem for mayhem, hence, she is the bench of justice and desire. This marshy sunny fire. Bust the weave to receive reprieve."

Astonished I look at the date and realize that, although this piece is painted with allusions to astrology, Tarot, divination, and approaching cathartic crises, I had not yet begun my studies and explorations into the Occult and the afore mentioned material. This pre-Plutonian woman somehow had every precognition for what was to come, though I thought nothing of it at the time. A silly poem in the journal of a meaningless existence. Proof that the Universe uses our own physical vehicles and capacities, our native tongues, to speak to us of magic and invisible dimensions, if only we can learn to see that we can afford to listen.

I close this book, and all the others. I pack them into boxes labeled "maps", and I smile as I prepare to join forces with my Twin Flame, fully expecting to find a similar box of his in our new home when the time comes to put all these boxes of evidence for the journey in one place, together, empowered, charged with intuitive intelligence, vitality, fertility, right action, and beneficial influence.

Thank you, Pluto, for destroying the queen and rebirthing the Empress, my new guide. Ever appreciative am I. New life, here I come!