Brezsnys real astrology

Rob Brezsny’s Freewill Astrology

A combination of prankster and guru, Brezsny is almost at home among the well-preserved middle-aged seekers with plenty of free afternoon time who are drifting around us in the bookstore, turning over volumes on tantric sex. A few customers have flowers tucked behind one ear, and more than one has a cellular phone parasitically attached to the other ear.

Bookstore staffers wear flowing Eastern blouses, strategically cut low to reveal the curve of a breast or the proud grey hair of a chest fluffed up around a large medallion necklace. Low whiny music soothes the soul, and there is enough patchouli in the air to give an asthmatic the wheezes.

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Yet on another occasion, Brezsny will dress up in what he calls his "huckster shaman rock star" outfit and literally stand on his head in the back shrine room. As most beauty and truth fans know, Rob Brezsny is more than willing to kick his own ass. At the same time, I've obviously been nurtured by a lot of what's been called New Age. That's my running joke with life, to treat everything as if it's about 70 percent worthy of belief, and about 30 percent worthy of total skepticism, and to borrow from them all.

There are no idols. In fact, he asserted, he is very much involved with the Male Menstrual Movement. The female radio host treated him with grave, quiet-voiced respect. Nary missing a beat, with a trace of humor coloring his voice, Brezsny began to hawk the book upon which he is still at work, A Feminist Man's Guide to Picking up Women.

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Without commenting too much, it's a novel. A docu-fiction memoir disguised as a novel with equal amounts of truth and half-truths mixed in. It is in part a story about my life as a musician and of my initiation at the hands of numerous women over a period of time, climaxing in the kidnapping of me by members of the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail. It means holding the masculine sacred, but in such a way that the feminine is glorified and enhanced.

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It means being a macho feminist. It means promoting the feminine archetype and the redemption of the feminine mysteries which have been so degraded, promoting and working on that with a masculine, aggressive style. This is a very complex subject, and I can't do it justice. But I will say that the male body does not enforce a time-out for our psychic and physical growth. The male body--and therefore the psyche--can go on endlessly without having to check back in to the inner source.

My theory is an idealistic one, but to the degree that we don't allow the collapse and don't allow the retreat, and welcome and encourage it, it turns into crankiness, it turns into bad moods, it turns into fucking up and being mean to people. If we acknowledge that we need to have this regular communion with our shadow, then our shadow is not going to rise up and demand to be paid attention to.

My body's been telling me to shut down and withdraw, and," he says--alluding to our Bless-In--"I can't always accommodate that. I'm alienated from the land that it's on, and I want to heal my alienation to it. I want to overcome my tendency to numb out and fall asleep every time that I pass it.

Rob Brezsny

Because when you get into the habit of going numb and falling asleep, it tends to get easier to do that in other aspects of your life. Squatting in the wind before the locked gate, we begin placing the artifacts for the shrine: a gold paper doily and gold petit-four wrappers that we weight with "magic rocks," the shiny quartz kind that line driveways.

What makes them magic? To these he adds the bag of beets, a box of red crayons, candy wax vampire teeth, a light-up red bubble candle from the Christmas when he was 3 years old, the green tops from the persimmons that grow at his home, some walnuts, pre-formed Christmas ribbons, and an unwrapped Mozart CD. We thread four pinwheels through the linkage. I lay some purgative herbs tied in a bunch with party ribbon, and homegrown nasturium seeds, as well as a short poem that I have composed and torn up, dotted with my favorite perfume.

Taking up one of the magic rocks, Brezsny--who is a published poet--grabs a Magic Marker and writes "Bathe in persimmon light" on one side. Sitting back on his heels, he looks in pleasure at what we've arranged. But I'm also healing my own ignorance and numbness about it, and that's part of the excitement for me. There are many different kinds of healing. Healing is to help someone who is sick.

Healing is to eliminate the mental and psychic blocks or traumas that wound someone psychically so that they can't function. And also, healing is to bring beauty and truth to a person or to a site, and that's one that I like to think that I specialize in. A chance turn finds us face to face with a notorious thrift store. Knocking over a box inside, Brezsny stoops to find that disgusting little His and Hers sex-panties sized to fit dolls have spilled out.

September 11–17

Give yourself a thrilling gift. I'm guessing that you Scorpios have been in a phase when these descriptions are highly apropos. On the other hand, our imagination is one of our great enemies, because it can also be held hostage by the monkey mind , which throws up an endless array of ideas that may or may not have anything to do with reality. Discover your sex life through the name. Ultimately, his play suffered and he lost the game. The work you've been doing may look productive and interesting and heroic to the casual observer, and maybe only you know how arduous and exacting it has been.

We buy them. He also finds a lint remover made by the ousted workers of one of GM's Flint, Mich. We buy that. He gets a delicate fan for his daughter, a wedding registry dated for his birthday in , and an old Marvel comic book. We then perform the aforementioned reverse panhandle and return to the couch of the New Age hucksterism emporium where we met.

They were institutions, not just some product of my imagination, and that gave me the idea that there were other traditions in this world that could sustain and could nourish. A tiny pair of gold sandals sit reverently outside the door.

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Going in, we set the Flint Lint Remover, a gold party hat, the tree-trunk letter, and a small gold-backed doll's mirror from the thrift store among the Shiva statues and stone Buddhas. They look perfectly in place. As we return to our cars, my reporter's instincts are dismayed. Where did he grow up, go to college, love, marry, learn to ride a bike? How the heck old is he? I have spent the greater part of one entire afternoon with Rob Brezsny only to find that he likes to eat beets and that he drives an abhorrently filthy car. In a pathetic, joking attempt to cull any small scrap of personal information, I have already promised not to ask him what type of toothpaste he uses.

I turn sadly away. That's my running joke with life, to treat everything as if it's about 70 percent worthy of belief, and about 30 percent worthy of total skepticism, and to borrow from them all. There are no idols. In fact, he asserted, he is very much involved with the Male Menstrual Movement. The female radio host treated him with grave, quiet-voiced respect. Nary missing a beat, with a trace of humor coloring his voice, Brezsny began to hawk the book upon which he is still at work, A Feminist Man's Guide to Picking up Women.

Without commenting too much, it's a novel.

A docu-fiction memoir disguised as a novel with equal amounts of truth and half-truths mixed in. It is in part a story about my life as a musician and of my initiation at the hands of numerous women over a period of time, climaxing in the kidnapping of me by members of the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail. It means holding the masculine sacred, but in such a way that the feminine is glorified and enhanced. It means being a macho feminist. It means promoting the feminine archetype and the redemption of the feminine mysteries which have been so degraded, promoting and working on that with a masculine, aggressive style.

This is a very complex subject, and I can't do it justice. But I will say that the male body does not enforce a time-out for our psychic and physical growth. The male body--and therefore the psyche--can go on endlessly without having to check back in to the inner source. My theory is an idealistic one, but to the degree that we don't allow the collapse and don't allow the retreat, and welcome and encourage it, it turns into crankiness, it turns into bad moods, it turns into fucking up and being mean to people.

If we acknowledge that we need to have this regular communion with our shadow, then our shadow is not going to rise up and demand to be paid attention to. My body's been telling me to shut down and withdraw, and," he says--alluding to our Bless-In--"I can't always accommodate that. I'm alienated from the land that it's on, and I want to heal my alienation to it.

I want to overcome my tendency to numb out and fall asleep every time that I pass it.

Because when you get into the habit of going numb and falling asleep, it tends to get easier to do that in other aspects of your life. Squatting in the wind before the locked gate, we begin placing the artifacts for the shrine: a gold paper doily and gold petit-four wrappers that we weight with "magic rocks," the shiny quartz kind that line driveways.

What makes them magic? To these he adds the bag of beets, a box of red crayons, candy wax vampire teeth, a light-up red bubble candle from the Christmas when he was 3 years old, the green tops from the persimmons that grow at his home, some walnuts, pre-formed Christmas ribbons, and an unwrapped Mozart CD. We thread four pinwheels through the linkage. I lay some purgative herbs tied in a bunch with party ribbon, and homegrown nasturium seeds, as well as a short poem that I have composed and torn up, dotted with my favorite perfume. Taking up one of the magic rocks, Brezsny--who is a published poet--grabs a Magic Marker and writes "Bathe in persimmon light" on one side.

Sitting back on his heels, he looks in pleasure at what we've arranged. But I'm also healing my own ignorance and numbness about it, and that's part of the excitement for me. There are many different kinds of healing.

Rob Brezsny

Healing is to help someone who is sick. Healing is to eliminate the mental and psychic blocks or traumas that wound someone psychically so that they can't function. And also, healing is to bring beauty and truth to a person or to a site, and that's one that I like to think that I specialize in. A chance turn finds us face to face with a notorious thrift store.

Knocking over a box inside, Brezsny stoops to find that disgusting little His and Hers sex-panties sized to fit dolls have spilled out. We buy them.