09/01/2025

Cosmic Musings

You know those moments when the silence hits different? It's 6 AM, and I'm sitting here with my coffee and Luna (my cat, who's currently giving me that "human, you're thinking too loud" look). The house has that particular kind of quiet that comes when my kid is at their dad's for the week.

It's funny how empty spaces can feel so full, full of the echoes of last week's laughter, of rushed morning routines, of "Mom, have you seen my...?" But today, with the Sun squaring Chiron, that emptiness is showing me something I've been trying to avoid seeing.

There's this wound we don't talk about much, the one that comes with learning to be alone again. The way you catch yourself setting two plates for dinner. The weird guilt of actually enjoying a peaceful morning, followed by the even weirder guilt of missing the chaos. Luna watches me navigate these empty rooms, probably wondering why I keep checking my phone for updates or walking past my kid's bedroom door.

But here's what I'm learning in these quiet moments: maybe this solitude isn't just empty space. Maybe it's more like a workshop where I'm rebuilding myself. Every time I manage to sit with this discomfort instead of trying to fill it with noise, I feel something healing. Every time I choose to see these quiet days as self-discovery rather than just absence, something shifts.

Luna just hopped into my lap, purring her ancient cat wisdom. She's been teaching me something all along, that presence doesn't always need noise, that healing doesn't always need words, and that sometimes the most profound growth happens in the spaces between.

P.S. If you're in your own quiet space right now, know that you're not alone in this dance of solitude and strength. We're all just learning how to make peace with our empty rooms.