Welcome back to my new series, COSMIC FOLKTALES. This series is a blend of memoir, fantasy, astrological & ancestral channeling, for the sake of individual and collective transformation. Every Sunday I publish a new cosmic folktale exploring themes of transitions, grief, ending and beginning cycles, and the crossroads.
Somewhere in deep space, beyond the realm of our imagination or concept of time and dimensions, there’s a giant meteor, about 3 times the size of our Sun. At some point the meteor was blown apart, imploded from the inside (trigger unknown). Thousands of tiny pieces of itself were split and strewn across time and space, each eventually landing in a different place in the Universe.
The little pieces of the meteor stayed estranged like this for millennia. The more time that passed, the more lodged they became in where they landed. They forgot where they came from. They forgot they were ever made of something bigger. They made a home for themselves. Sure, they carried a chronic, acute dissatisfaction related to their displacement…often irritated, numb, restless, lonely, complacent, disassociated…and they also lived. They lived through times of joy, laughter, loss, presence, friendship, growth, and movement.
It reminds me of the place I grew up, a small town in the Canadian prairies: under Treaty 2, negotiated by the Anishnabek First Nation, on the traditional lands of the Anishnabek, Metis, Cree and Oceti Sakowin. For those who’ve followed my work for a while, you know I’ve spoken at length about the racism and bullying I experienced in my childhood, and the impact that had on my self-worth and adulthood. A lot of the art I created in my 20s was about unlearning and healing from my early developmental racial trauma.
But it wasn’t all bad, where I come from. Far, far from it. The energy of the prairies is so beloved to me, to a depth that few other things are. The impossible magic of the aurora borealis in the winter. The peace of the flatlands.
The arts center, and the grand piano I played every April in the town’s yearly music competition. The corner store where my Dad and I rented movies. The park near the tennis court I took my dog for walks. The skating rink and swimming pool my mom drove me to.
This was my home. For a time.
And when it was time, I had to leave.
It was never where I was meant to stay. It was never all of me. It could never comprehend, let alone protect and uplift, the totality of me. Me, 3 times the size of our Sun.
The meteor is now calling its pieces back to itself.
There’s a heartbeat, a place of remembering, in the core of every single fragment of rock. It’s a pulse beacon. A humming, drumming, chanting. (For some of us, it’s a bloody musical!) Every, single, piece of the meteor is radiating the message from within, and heeding the call.
It’s time to return.
It’s scary, and it’s beautiful. None of the pieces, individually, know the shape it will become once the whole of itself is reunited. None of them know exactly where in space they’ll end up either, all they can feel is the gravitational pull.
They are each being asked to trust gravity, even if they don’t understand it. Refer to gravity’s knowing, even if gravity won’t explain itself. Let gravity take the lead, instead of trying to control the process or allow a smaller-minded part of itself take the wheel that, frankly, doesn’t know what the fuck it’s doing.
For those of us currently experiencing growing pains, this is one thing to know: we are moving from a state of fragmentation to genuine authenticity.
The change we’re moving through now is different.
It’s not like the pieces of the meteor, on their own, never experienced change. Quite the contrary, they are well familiar with death and rebirth, growth and evolution, in and of themselves. But they had no way to imagine their identity could be comprised of more than what they could grasp in front of them.
They assumed, “I am the only one.”
It’s what they repeated to themselves in deep pain: “I am the only one. Nobody has my back, nobody understands me, nobody can share this with me. I am alone.”
And the same thing in deep resiliency: “I am the only one. Nothing will destroy me. I will survive this, on my own, no matter what.”
The thing is, whenever one of them whispered, or screamed, “I am the only one,” all of them said it, simultaneously. Echoing across the Universe. What each of them thought was a monologue, was actually a chorus.
(Kind of like when Fivel sings “Somewhere Out There” and unbeknownst to him his sister is singing a duet with him at the same time, right? Exactly like that, except exponentialized and quantum metaphysicalized…😎)
Make no mistake, the process of coming back home is painful. These pieces are heavily lodged in their respective homes. And they are stubborn AF.
Most of them are even pretty damn aware of how unhappy they’ve become. More aware than they’ve ever been before. They can’t deny how they’ve grown out of their previous container hanging off their skin. Still, the process of dislodging yourself from something that was a home (even if an unhappy one) is incredibly distressing. Like ripping off a bandaid, but exponentialized, and quantum metaphysicalized…yikes…
It’s painful, but it’s okay. You are returning. There is no gravity more powerful, and more loving, than that.
So, why is this happening now?
There is no fancy astrological or philosophical reason, it’s just time.
When the meteor imploded and burst apart in the first place – it was terribly devastating, yes, but that was never supposed to be the end.
That meteor was never not gonna return back to itself. It was just a matter of time.
Like when death comes around, it’s not because you’re being punished. Or when love comes around, it’s not because you’re being rewarded. It’s just time. No complicated psychological or metaphysical investigation.
In these great times of transition, personally and collectively, it helps to take a breath, step away from what’s right in front of us, and remember that we are part of something bigger.
To take pause from the focus on constant problem solving, hyper-vigilance, overanalyzing, intense searching for meaning and answers and solutions to the point of self and collective injury.
Instead remember, there is so much of this Universe we are not conscious of. Take refuge in that. Be held in the relief, the peace, the awe, and the joy of that.
The message from the meteor is – we are the meteor.
The meteor is not just a reflection of us, it’s an embodiment of us. We belong to it. We’re a fractal of it.
If we looked in the mirror at our bodies, our intimate relationships, our inner worlds, our collective environments, and then we exponentialized ourselves…quantum metaphysicalized ourselves…we’d see that meteor.
I for one resonate with what’s going on with the meteor in every aspect of my life, personal and professional.
The recent changes I’ve made to my astrology and storytelling business (reflected in this new “cosmic folktales” series) is an example.
It’s a journey from fragmentation, to genuine authenticity. Feeling the gravity of different pieces of myself, now painfully de-lodging themselves from homes they’ve grown out of, and returning back to a shape completely unique and original to me. A shape I don’t yet know how to describe, and that I shouldn’t try to control. Instead, I let it take care of me, nourish me, I let it take the lead while I take a damn break. Because it knows exactly what it is doing.
In this space I come to a clarity with my work:
I don’t have to do what other writers do.
I don’t have to do what other theatre artists do.
I don’t have to do what other astrologers do.
I don’t have to do what other entrepreneurs do.
I don’t have to do what other activists do.
I don’t have to do what other spiritual and ancestral healers do.
I don’t have to do what other Buffy tv podcasts do.**
SIDEBAR || **my new Buffy inspired podcast is still in the works btw, but I’m still pregnant with it and being patient. I think it wants to be born a Sagittarius! ||
My point is, there are pieces of me in all those worlds I’ve traversed through. There are important lessons I’ve learned, wonderful people I’ve loved, necessary things I’m taking with me, and invaluable experiences I’ve shared. But we always know deep down when we’re in a vibe that won’t work long term, that isn’t totally authentic. So often we stay in places and with people that we know aren’t meant for us, for the sake of stability, familiarity, fear of the unknown.
The meteor reminds us, this is a time in history and multidimensional reality, to trust in the stability and familiarity of your authentic shape (even if you don’t yet know what that is). Nothing is more protective than that.
Have gratitude for the places and people you are leaving. Gently release your grip on comparison, judgement, fighting change, superiority/inferiority, lack, scarcity, impossibility, proof, evidence, all the things we feel when leaving is underway and returning is inevitable. Be patient with your timing, because your rhythm of returning isn’t supposed to look like anyone else’s.
Most of all, allow yourself to receive the love of this particular moment in time.
Your pieces lived a full and gorgeous life in every place they landed. They really did. And now it’s time.
You are returning to a shape made of all your once estranged pieces coming back together.
You are coming back home.
SHOUT OUT SECTION!
This section is to take the opportunity to shout-out radical work happening in my periphery, a worthy cause to support, or to share updates and events.
This week, my shout-out goes to a beloved queer Indigenous tarot reader, High Moon Femme ❤ I’ve had amazing and transformative readings from them in the past, so if you are looking for a rad tarot reading and compassionate and deep support, check out their website and follow them on IG: @high.moon.femme
Dacia has also shared recently on their IG the struggles their family has been going through, the complex and devastating results of living through ongoing colonization. If you are a settler and want to do some reparations work, consider sending them a one-time or ongoing donation (you can find out how to do that on their website or IG).
While I’m publishing this blog post on Oct 20, I actually wrote it last week on “Thanksgiving” (or “Columbus Day” in the US) – which actually should be called Indigenous People’s Day, and a reminder to renew our commitments toward Indigenous solidarity everyday!
In Dacia’s words (from their IG): Support real people, not just organizations. If you’re considering donating to an organization for Indigenous People’s Day, consider contribution to an actual Indigenous / Native queer family!
CASH APP: $highmoonfemme
Shaunga Tagore is a writer, theatre artist, astrologer, and ancestral/multidimensional communicator living in Tkaronto / Toronto, traditional territory of the Haudensaunee, Wendat, Anishnabek, and Mississagaus of New Credit. For more from her COSMIC FOLKTALES series, browse her archives and look forward to a new post each Sunday. Check out the her website for opportunities to work with her as a cosmic coach, creative collaborator, or keep updated on OTHERWORLDLY GIANTS, her upcoming podcast and play.