Transits
day, but we have lost the initial rush of energy, which is
only natural. It is like being at a party—you realize you
are not having as much fun as you were an hour before,
and you find your thoughts turning to more mundane
matters, such as going home, or going out to get a cup
of coffee. This is what is happening, but here on a much
larger scale.
What was previously done with sheer enthusiasm is
now being done perhaps quite methodically, it having
become almost routine; it is much like when we
experience a new-found sense of ourselves, some kind
of breakthrough, and then assume we will have that
new-found kind of strength from that day onward, only
to find that, it, too, was a passing phase in an endless
cycle—we come down from it, back to our old self.
There is also a sense of coming down to earth here, of
taking care of the details, and, in general, of being more
conservative.
So, the overall experience is one of a growing
awareness that the fullness of the experience, whatever
it was, will not last, and that some attempt to preserve,
conserve and protect our resources is in order, a "we
won't live forever" sort of thing. All of the above gives
way to an interest in healing, to the taking care of what
we already have, and to a desire to stockpile or prepare
for that rainy day.