Positive, Negative, and Everything In Between
I used to be accused of being negative. No!! Yes, it's true. There is a sort of stigma and shame connected to the accusation, and that should've been a clue. But I straightened up and became positive. My aim is to please. Then I was accused of being too positive. Now I don't care since they have such a hard time deciding. I'll be here when they do. And I suppose I'm negative again, if you can figure it out.
I came from a large family, including the whole clan beyond my immediate one. My mother was a realist, raised in Hungary with that sort of Transylvanian aura common in that part of the world. My sister is a pessimist with a great spirit and sense of humor. My father was neither of the above. Nor any thing else you can think of. My brother resides in La La Land, quite successfully I might add. I am an optimist with an surgical wit and a tendency toward acidic criticism. Not a prejudiced bone in my body. I hate everyone equally.
If everybody in my family were merry and positive I think I would have done myself in. If they were all gloomy, I would have sought adoption. As it turned out, I have one the most diverse, interesting vivacious families in the world.
Aunt Ida was contentious and stubborn, with great social values and my favorite. She was criticized severely by the rest of the huge family but she's outlived most of them.
"Who cares what they think?" she asks.
And she means it.
Uncle Sammy was hated by almost everyone. I loved him. He played guitar and sang to the kids in his jockey shorts to our squealing delight. He sang with gusto -- Deep Blue Sea, Blood on the Saddle, This Land is Your Land, and so many others. Musical talent runs in my family.
Aunt Mary was truly positive and everyone loved her. Oddly, she tuned us out entirely at the end of her life in favor of several years of solitude. The effervescent curious talker became silent in her little house in the woods.
Uncle Irving was a miser, and also universally hated by the adults. But he was a comedian and the family was kept in uproarious laughter when not hating.
Aunt Charlotte was the black sheep of the tribe and negative. An interracial marriage, a retarded firstborn, children married to abusers, and neglected babies. She created beautiful oil paintings and raised one of the abused to become a gorgeous adult, normal and reasonably negative. Charlotte's ace was wisdom and understanding of the human condition.
Uncle Arnold was the best of the best. Scientific, easy-going, lovable and a master of blues piano in the key of C. Ballin' the Jack was my favorite. He was the only one who listened to my own music. Open mind and heart.
There were many others, all unique and multi-talented. So I had and still have a lot to choose from. When I'm down, I seek the sad ones to commiserate with. When I'm happy, I choose the gay ones to party with. When I'm broke I hit up the rich ones. When I'm flush, it's on me. Someone for every mood. I never could understand why people want others to really be like them.
Who the crowd selects to spit out is revealing, and the way they do it is, too. Positive takes on a different shade then. I've always liked the artistic, rebellious, anarchistic crowd since it doesn't occur to them to spit you out. Therefore ... there's more freedom. Who can I be but myself, anyway?
With Jupiter in Aquarius for awhile, expanding the quirky and the boundaries of acceptance, it could be a time for the plus and minus to unite, spark, and ignite energy in the universe. We're going to need it for Uranus in Aries. And Uranus does rule electricity.