Mercurius Trismegistus the Alchemist ponders the Retrograde.
Frankly, it irritates me, the irksome re-winds & necessary confabulations (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confabulation), the juggling & re-balancing of space & time. I wish it weren’t so, but I am subject to conditions I myself create, and this is always a busy & confusing time, with Mercury retrograde: patrolling the borderlands is tiring enough on it’s own, without the added burden of garbling already esoteric meanings & signs & lessons in accordance to the winged planet’s seeming retreat. In more felicitous times I’m tasked with more straight-forward & simplistic trickery – forking paths & riddling gnomes & such – but during the retrograde (thank Baal this cycle ends April 4th) I’m engaged in all manner of communication tomfoolery, sowing apprehension & misapprehension, misdirection, confusion & disarray from my full arsenal of glitches & snafus, like scattering seed in a spring garden.
The Borderland, my domain, where the clearing meets the forest: the ‘verge’, where the sub-conscious strolls with the conscious and combatants meet to parlay, is not settled, yet is not not quite a wilderness, either. I do my best during these pesky retrogrades to keep land open for growth, but the wild brambles & thorny hedges of mixed messages grow with alarming speed, and I’m forced by fate to entrust their riddance to the individual.