Everything Yearns for You
Beloved co-conspirators, thank you for gathering here at the shimmering threshold between worlds. I’m pleased to invite you to try a feeling-rich thought experiment inspired by the brilliant poet Jane Brunette. It’s a spell disguised as a game called Everything Yearns for Me.
This blessed amusement invites us to reconsider desire: not as a famished ghost rattling its chains or a howling absence that begs to be filled, but as a bridge into intimate communion with the Wild, Radiant Everything.
Try this: Instead of imagining yourself as one who hungers and grasps, flip the polarity. Dare to imagine that everything desires you. Not only metaphorically or conceptually, but erotically and playfully. Insistently and intimately. The world has a crush on you. Not just now but always.
And so your next meal isn’t a mute arrangement of calories waiting to be consumed. It’s trembling with anticipation, eager for you to receive its lush assemblage of flavors and textures so it can excite your joie de vivre. Feel how it wants to nourish you. Sense how it’s offering itself to merge with you, dissolve into your bloodstream, and join the ongoing miracle of your vigor.
The trees are leaning toward you with every branch and leaf, hoping you will appreciate the exact genius of their green, the way the living light reassembles itself through their branches. Imagine truly that they have created the color and weave of their bark for your enjoyment.
That breeze moving across your face? It has traveled over mountains and wetlands and cities specifically to find you. It carries messages you’re ready to hear, love notes from who knows where. It’s murmuring, “You are cherished by vast intelligences you have not yet learned how to appreciate and thank.”
The ground beneath you isn’t inert. It’s a sentient accomplice rising to meet your steps and thrilled by the percussion of your weight. It relishes the intimacy of your contact. Each footfall is a mutual act of recognition: you touching the Earth, the Earth touching you back.
As you ease into the brazen disclosure of this reversal, the entire cosmos undergoes a sweet mutation. What once seemed like a collection of separate things reveals itself as a congregation of your admirers, collaborators, and lovers. All of creation is erotically invested in your noticing. So of course, you feel wanted. Not abstractly, but in your actual flesh.
Your desire transmutes, freed from its old assignment as a restless lack. Now it’s a fluidic fire, a roaming attentiveness, a gratitude that tingles. It no longer fixates or begs, but circulates and participates: riveting yet relaxed.
Here’s the sly magic: When your longing is no longer funneled toward one distant object, it diffuses across the entire muse-bright field.
Suddenly, responsiveness is homing in on you from all directions. Everything becomes a source of revelation and blessings. You find yourself nourished by cracks in the dry mud and the choreography of shadows. The unexpected holiness of ordinary moments washes over you.
It’s a trick, yes, but a very real and holy trick. A prank played on the old habits that convinced you that you were needy and incomplete.
I invite and incite you to practice this high art in brief, gleeful bursts. Don’t turn it into a duty. Treat it as a flirtation and a game. Let the pleasure it generates be the only discipline required, seducing you into returning again and again.
Over time, you may discover that you’re no longer aching to get love from the world. You are participating in a web of life that has been loving you all along.
+
excerpted from my book Enlightenment for Rebels
A Love Letter for You, from All of Creation
Dear Beloved Champion:
We really do crave your attention. We’ve been courting you since before you had a name, arranging and divulging ourselves in hopes you’ll love us in the ways we love you.
We like being felt and seen and smelled and heard and tasted by you.
We like entering your lungs disguised in the ordinary necessity of breathing. As you draw us inside yourself thousands of times a day, we leave some of our life with you, and you give us something of yours. We’ve been exchanging gifts since your first astonished gasp. We love our intimacy.
We confess to extravagance. Consider how many sunsets we’ve offered during the twilights when you were indoors. Still, we keep making them. We enjoy the work. Besides, you might come and gaze at us.
You’ve noticed how water changes its voice depending on what it touches? Stone, roof, cupped palm? We like to find out what happens to our beauty when it engages you. What new story will you make of it? What unexpected tenderness might transform you into a wiser version of yourself right here and now? We’re always curious about your versions of us.
This isn’t a demand but a request: Please bring us your peculiar senses. Give us the associations nobody else would make, like the memory a certain fragrance wakes in you or a joke you’re almost embarrassed to tell. We have ample room for the way your mind wanders.
You can come tired. There’s a certain chair that loves the whole weight of you. You might take for granted how much your blanket exults in warming you, but it never loses its enthusiasm.
We trust you know this, but we’ll say it anyway: You don’t have to be fascinating every minute to fascinate us. And you don’t have to do anything special to earn our love. You’ve never been a beggar at the edge of the feast, but have always been the guest of honor.
Yes, we’re aware there are times when pain takes up a lot of your space. We don’t ask you to admire it. We’ll come close in whatever ways work for you: clean sheets, warm water, a familiar voice, finding a comfortable position. You can receive these things from us without needing to feel indebted.
As for the abundant pleasures we offer: We invite you to let as much of it in as you want.
The pear in your kitchen says, I spent all summer drinking sunlight and storing it as sweetness, ripening for when your teeth would sink into me.
The oak you sometimes notice when you’re out walking wants you to know that the wrinkles in her bark are love poems written slowly in a script your fingertips can read.
The wind crossed a desert, a cornfield, a city of millions of worried people, and a cove where crabs were molting, all to arrive at the spot behind your left ear.
The water used to make your coffee has come a long way, too. It has been a glacier, a rainstorm, the sweat of a horse, and the tears of a stranger who was finally forgiven. It would love to join your body for a while.
The shadows under the porch, the cracks in the dried mud, and the oil slick shimmering like a rainbow in the parking lot: You may have overlooked us because you thought we were too ordinary to be holy. We forgive you. We’ve been holy this whole time. Come closer and you’ll see.
And the stars. Some of the light falling on your face tonight left home before the dinosaurs died off. It traveled through unimaginable cold and dark for the purpose of landing in your eyes. Imagine the intensity of that devotion. Think about how long it has been preparing for you to look up.
We are sending you this message by many couriers. Some have wings and some arrive carrying groceries. Some are songs that come back to you after 30 years, eager to feel your throat again.
We love when you answer and respond in your thousands of affectionate and mysterious ways. Maybe you sing or curse. Maybe you tell a cagey lie or speak an odd truth. Maybe you transform a familiar habit or relinquish your hold on a fascinating struggle or try out a belief you used to think was outlandish. All are welcome.
Yearning for you from every direction,
All of Creation
(including the parts of us you haven’t met yet)
P.S. When you feel lonely, that’s often just us hovering very close, waiting for you to notice.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Check out my Linktree, with links to other things I create: linktr.ee/robbrezsny
Enlightenment for Rebels: Celebrating Our Wild and Sacred Earthly Selves in Jubilant Defiance of Disembodied Spirituality is available at online stores, and you can get a 25% discount here: tinyurl.com/SacredEarthySelves
Also available as a cheap e-book: https://tinyurl.com/REBELSebook
+
Check out my NOTES: newsletter.freewillastrology.com/notes
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
FREE WILL ASTROLOGY
Week of November 5
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): How long has it been since you’ve meandered around a library? I’m old-fashioned about books, so that experience is high on my list of pleasurable adventures. I enjoy searching for specific books but I also love browsing the shelves without a fixed destination. Both approaches are valuable, though browsing often produces happy surprises. One unexpected title leads to another, opening pathways no search engine could have predicted. With this in mind, Scorpio, I recommend that you browse freely in the coming weeks. Wander through ideas, friendships, music, bookstores, museums, forests, conversations, and neighborhoods without demanding a predetermined outcome. Serendipity is preparing a curriculum especially suited to restless brilliance.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): There’s a Welsh word, hiraeth, that refers to a longing for a home that may never have existed. It’s a homesickness for a place or a way of being you can’t actually return to and aren’t sure was ever fully real. I bring this up, Sagittarius, because I suspect you’re feeling the tug of distant horizons lately, a restless ache for an elsewhere you can’t name. Don’t dismiss this longing as mere wanderlust to be scratched with a plane ticket. Sit with it. Ask what it’s pointing toward. The far country you ache for may be a quality of soul you’re being called to cultivate right where you are. Your true destination might be more interior than you assume.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Engineers who design a suspension bridge know the structure must be able to sway slightly in wind and weather. A perfectly rigid structure would eventually crack under stress. In the coming weeks, I’m hoping you’ll incorporate extra doses of this paradoxical attitude. It’s crucial not just to grudgingly acknowledge but to fondly celebrate the fact that stability will thrive on generous flexibility. Some plans and convictions will grow even stronger because you’ll be willing to adjust and tinker with them.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Astronomers sometimes revisit old telescope data using improved software. In doing so, they may discover planets or galaxies that had been hidden from them for years. The information was always there. Only the methods of perception changed. I suspect you’re ripe for similar types of revelation, Aquarius. I invite you to return to old notebooks, abandoned ideas, neglected friendships, or forgotten ambitions. You may not have extracted all their value yet. Your present self possesses interpretive abilities that your former self lacked. Yesterday’s overlooked clue may be tomorrow’s breakthrough.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Nineteenth-century Piscean composer and pianist Frédéric Chopin poured an almost unbearable tenderness into his nocturnes and preludes. His delicate, intimate music is among the most emotional ever created. Evoking potent, mysterious feelings was his specialty. I propose we make him your inspirational role model. Please do everything you can imagine to express your deep feelings with artistry and intelligence. Be as sensitive and impassioned as you dare.
ARIES (March 21-April 19): Aries psychologist Abraham Maslow coined the term “peak experiences”: surging upflows of heightened clarity, awe, vitality, and love. He also identified another category, “plateau experiences.” These are gentler but more enduring states, characterized less by ecstatic fireworks than by a leisurely delight in being alive. I believe you’re in a phase that favors those plateau experiences. So the semi-bad news is that you may not be besieged by a nonstop flood of spectacular epiphanies. The good news is that you’ll harvest a steady stream of subtle amazements. Your gratitude may be less dramatic but more sustained. A calm, glowing contentment can teach you all you need to know right now.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
If you’d like to support my work, consider:
buying my Expanded Audio. Horoscopes and Daily Horoscopes
and/or
becoming a paid subscriber to my Free Will Astrology Newsletter
and/or
donating at my Paypal site: paypal.com/paypalme/GiftsForRob
(contribute as Friends and Family)
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): A finely crafted mechanical watch depends upon many gears moving at different speeds. Some spin rapidly, while others barely move. Yet each contributes to the overall success of timekeeping. Please remember this when you get restless about your uneven progress. Not every area of your life can or should be in dynamic motion simultaneously. One project may require vigorous action while another benefits from patient incubation. A single standard of productivity isn’t right for you these days. Harmonious coordination among different rhythms serves you best.
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): I invite you and urge you to ruminate about the stories you’ve been telling about yourself. Are they still accurate? Still empowering? Or have some become outdated myths that no longer honor your ripening identity? During the coming weeks, I predict you will be energized as you revise your personal mythology with imaginative generosity. It’s time to retire narratives that shrink you. Reinvent an old saga so it makes you more of a hero and less of a victim. Compose two fun new tales that are spacious enough to accommodate the curious beauty you’re on your way to becoming.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): Among elephants, older matriarchs lead the herd. They carry detailed memories of watering holes, migration routes, and old brushes with danger. During tough times, their accumulated experience becomes indispensable. This fact of nature reminds me that your own history contains wisdom you haven’t fully appreciated. And now is an excellent phase to bring it all into your conscious awareness. Instead of dwelling on old disappointments or sad mistakes, focus intensely on what durable knowledge you’ve harvested from living through them. Your future and the futures of those you care for will improve in direct proportion to the respect you show your past. The point is to recognize yourself as an increasingly skillful keeper of hard-earned sagacity.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): A bird doesn’t perceive reflective glass as we do. To it, the spotless glass façade of a building may look like a continuation of the outdoors, with blue sky, clouds, tree canopy, or water. But humans have the know-how to create bird-friendly patterns that interrupt this illusion by giving the glass enough visual “texture” to register as a solid obstacle. With these visual clues, birds are less likely to collide with the structure. In the coming weeks, Leo, I hope you will summon comparable thoughtfulness. Your small gestures can protect others from unnecessary confusion or pain. You’ll have extra power to express subtle kindnesses that free people to navigate the world more safely and confidently.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): You may be feeling so physically well right now that it seems almost implausible. Your mind may be operating so sharply that you wonder whether you can trust it. Even love may appear so straightforward and righteous that part of you suspects you have misunderstood the signs. But that’s the cosmic joke: These blessings don’t come with an invoice or a looming punishment. You’re allowed to receive them freely. Tell your harsh inner critic that its counsel isn’t needed. Then make ample room for the release and freedom that are unfolding.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): I’m not right 100 percent of the time, but even when I’m not completely correct, I usually get close to at least one of the key truths simmering in your story. In the oracle you’re reading now, I’m offering a concise burst of guidance that I believe is even more likely than usual to be 100 percent accurate. I’m urging you to examine the balance of give-and-take in one specific relationship. Your gift for harmony can sometimes tip into always being the one who accommodates, adjusts, and gives more, until the scales sit lopsided and you barely notice. Investigate that possibility, please. Fixing the imbalance is an act of care for a bond that’s worth keeping healthy.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Thank you, Rob! This resonates so deeply.
ugly crying at this 💖