In the winter of 1947, drained by the bustle and constant striving that drives life in New York, Nin took a holiday in Acapulco, Mexico — still a mostly undeveloped patch of wilderness, on which the Hotel El Mirador had been built as twelve rooms on the edge of a cliff just a few years earlier. She was immediately struck by the world of difference between the local way of life and the obsessive living-making of the workaholic culture from which she had taken respite.
Three decades before Susan Sontag lamented the “aesthetic consumerism” of vacation photography, which commodifies the experience by prioritizing its record over its livingness, and more than half a century before we came to compulsively catalog every private moment on the social web, Nin writes:
I am lying on a hammock, on the terrace of my room at the Hotel Mirador, the diary open on my knees, the sun shining on the diary, and I have no desire to write. The sun, the leaves, the shade, the warmth, are so alive that they lull the senses, calm the imagination. This is perfection. There is no need to portray, to preserve. It is eternal, it overwhelms you, it is complete.
Nin had many friends of color in an era when that was rather uncommon for the average white person, and saw white Americans’ and Europeans’ way of life as a rote existence greatly inferior in its sensorial unimaginativeness compared to the cultures from which jazz, the art-form she most admired, sprang. Faced with the radically different disposition of the Mexican locals, she considers what they know about living with presence that the society from which she escaped does not:
The natives have not yet learned from the white man his inventions for traveling away from the present, his scientific capacity for analyzing warmth into a chemical substance, for abstracting human beings into symbols. The white man has invented glasses which make objects too near or too far, cameras, telescopes, spyglasses, objects which put glass between living and vision. It is the image he seeks to possess, not the texture, the living warmth, the human closeness.
Illustration from a rare first edition of Nin’s 1944 short-story collection ‘Under a Glass Bell.’ Click image for more.
Many decades before we became transfixed by the glowing screens of our devices, which came to interfere with the very basics of being a city life, Nin adds:
Here in Mexico they see only the present. This communion of eyes and smiles is elating. In New York people seem intent on not seeing each other. Only children look with such unashamed curiosity. Poor white man, wandering and lost in his proud possession of a dimension in which bodies become invisible to the naked eye, as if staring were an immodest act. Here I feel incarnated and in full possession of my own body.
Four years later, Nin returns to Acapulco and is once again enchanted by the aliveness that its invitation to presence awakens in the spirit:
To me Acapulco is the detoxicating cure for all the evils of the city: ambition, vanity, quest for success in money, the continuous contagious presence of power-driven, obsessed individuals who want to become known, to be in the limelight, noticed, as if life among millions gave you a desperate illness, a need of rising above the crowd, being noticed, existing individually, singled out from a mass of ants and sheep… Here, all this is nonsense. You exist by your smile and your presence. You exist for your joys and your relaxations. You exist in nature. You are part of the glittering sea, and part of the luscious, well-nourished plants, you are wedded to the sun, you are immersed in timelessness, only the present counts, and from the present you extract all the essences which can nourish the senses, and so the nerves are still, the mind is quiet, the nights are lullabies, the days are like gentle ovens in which infinitely wise sculptor’s hands re-form the lost contours, the lost sensations of the body… As you swim, you are washed of all the excrescences of so-called civilization, which includes the incapacity to be happy under any circumstances.
The man represented by the Prince of Disks is a quiet and meditative man, who works with unfailing determination towards the goals he sets himself. He is reliable and resourceful, unswerving and creative in his dedication.He is more imaginative than the Knight of Disks, though he has the same quiet strength and gentleness. His quality of contemplation often yields fruit in surprising ways, generating a deep and broad-sweeping understanding about the inner workings of life.If he is ill-dignified, the Prince of Disks can become stubborn and short-sighted – even bloody-minded in his attitudes. Faithful and loyal himself, he will not tolerate faithlessness in others. Neither will he accept lack of integrity, nor dishonesty.He is hard-working, trustworthy and inventive, often producing unusual yet practical solutions which resolve otherwise intractable problems. As a friend he is non-judgemental and supportive, though capable of shedding new perspectives on situations. He’s generally a good listener, though he has little patience with histrionics and manipulation.His approach to life overall is one of industrious practicality. He believes that all things yield to a determined will and well-directed activity.Though emotionally he at first gives the impression that he is solid and perhaps even a little unimaginative, when his feelings are roused, he can be deeply passionate and sensual.He rarely comes up to indicate a change of mood in a person, though sometimes he will appear to indicate some-one learning to take responsibility in everyday life.
The Astrology Podcast • Aug 1, 2024 • The astrology forecast for August 2024, with astrologers Chris Brennan and Austin Coppock. We spend the first hour of the show discussing recent news and events surrounding the Mars-Uranus conjunction over the past few weeks, and then in the second hour we jump into looking at the astrology of August. The first part of the month is dominated by Mercury going retrograde in Virgo and Leo, and then in the second week Mars moves into a tens conjunction with Jupiter as well as a square with Saturn. The biggest outer planet alignment of the month is Jupiter squaring Saturn in the third week, and around that time Venus in Virgo swings in to square Mars and Jupiter and then oppose Saturn. By the end of the month Mercury finishes its retrograde period and stations direct, while Venus departs from Virgo and moves into its home sign of Libra. This is episode 457 of The Astrology Podcast:
ARIES (March 21-April 19): One meaning of the word “palette” is a flat board on which painters place a variety of pigments to apply to their canvas. What would be a metaphorical equivalent to a palette in your life? Maybe it’s a diary or journal where you lay out the feelings and ideas you use to craft your fate. Perhaps it’s an inner sanctuary where you retreat to organize your thoughts and meditate on upcoming decisions. Or it could be a group of allies with whom you commune and collaborate to enhance each other’s destinies. However you define your palette, Aries, I believe the time is right to enlarge its size and increase the range of pigments you can choose from.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The star that Westerners call Arcturus has a different name for Indigenous Australians: Marpeankurrk. In their part of the world, it begins to rise before dawn in August. For the Boorong people of northwest Victoria, this was once a sign to hunt for the larvae of wood ants, which comprised a staple food for months. I bring this up, Taurus, because heavenly omens are telling me you should be on the lookout for new sources of sustenance and fuel. What’s your metaphorical equivalent of wood ant larvae?
GEMINI (May 21-June 20): Seventy percent of the world’s macadamia nuts have a single ancestor: a particular tree in Queensland, Australia. In 1896, two Hawaiian brothers took seeds from this tree and brought them back to their homestead in Oahu. From that small beginning, Hawaiian macadamia nuts have come to dominate the world’s production. I foresee you soon having resemblances to that original tree, Gemini. What you launch in the coming weeks and months could have tremendous staying power and reach far beyond its original inspiration.
CANCER (June 21-July 22): Ketchup flows at about 0.03 miles per hour. In thirty-five hours, it could travel about a mile. I think you should move at a similar speed in the coming days. The slower you go, the better you will feel. The more deeply focused you are on each event, and the more you allow the rich details to unfold in their own sweet time, the more successful you will be at the art of living. Your words of power will be incremental, gradual and cumulative.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): Astrologer Chris Zydel says every sign has superpowers. In honor of your birthday season, I’ll tell you about those she attributes to you Leos. When you are at your best, you are a beacon of “joyful magnetism” who naturally exudes “irrepressible charisma.” You “shine like a thousand suns” and “strut your stuff with unabashed audacity.” All who are lucky enough to be in your sphere benefit from your “radiant spontaneity, bold, dramatic play, and whoo-hoo celebration of your creative genius.” I will add that of course you can’t always be a perfect embodiment of all these superpowers. But I suspect you are cruising through a phase when you are the next best thing to perfect.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): Virgo-born Friedrich August Kekule (1829–1896) transformed organic chemistry with his crucial discovery of the structure of carbon-based compounds. He had studied the problem for years. But his breakthrough realization didn’t arrive until he had a key dream while dozing. There’s not enough room here to describe it at length, but the image that solved the riddle was a snake biting its own tail. I bring this story to your attention, Virgo, because I suspect you could have practical and revelatory dreams yourself in the coming weeks. Daydream visions, too. Pay attention! What might be your equivalent to a snake biting its own tail?
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Please don’t succumb to numbness or apathy in the coming weeks. It’s crucial that you don’t. You should also take extreme measures to avoid boredom and cynicism. At the particular juncture in your amazing life, you need to feel deeply and care profoundly. You must find ways to be excited about as many things as possible, and you must vividly remember why your magnificent goals are so magnificent. Have you ruminated recently about which influences provide you with the spiritual and emotional riches that sustain you? I encourage you to become even more intimately interwoven with them. It’s time for you to be epic, mythic, even heroic.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Historically, August has brought many outbreaks of empowerment. In August 1920, American women gained the right to vote. In August 1947, India and Pakistan wrested their independence from the British Empire’s long oppression. In August 1789, French revolutionaries issued the Declaration of the Rights of Man, a document that dramatically influenced the development of democracy and liberty in the Western world. In 1994, the United Nations established August 9 as the time to celebrate International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples. In 2024, I am officially naming August to be Scorpio Power Spot Month. It will be an excellent time to claim and/or boost your command of the niche that will nurture your authority and confidence for years to come.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): August is Save Our Stereotypes Month for you Sagittarians. I hope you will celebrate by rising up strong and bold to defend our precious natural treasures. Remember that without cliches, platitudes, pigeonholes, conventional wisdom and hackneyed ideas, life would be nearly impossible. JUST KIDDING! Everything I just said was a dirty lie. Here’s the truth. August is Scour Away Stereotypes Month for you Sagittarians. Please be an agent of original thinking and fertile freshness. Wage a brazen crusade against cliches, platitudes, pigeonholes, conventional wisdom and hackneyed ideas.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): You’re never too old or wise or jaded to jump up in the air with glee when offered a free gift. Right? So I hope you won’t be so bent on maintaining your dignity and composure that you remain poker-faced when given the chance to grab the equivalent of a free gift. I confess I am worried you might be unreceptive to the sweet, rich things coming your way. I’m concerned you might be closed to unexpected possibilities. I will ask you, therefore, to pry open your attitude so you will be alert to the looming blessings, even when they are in disguise.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): A friend of a friend told me this story: One summer day, a guy he knew woke up at 5am, meditated for a while, and made breakfast. As he gazed out his kitchen window, enjoying his coffee, he became alarmed. In the distance, at the top of a hill, a brush fire was burning. He called emergency services to alert firefighters. A few minutes later, though, he realized he had made an error. The brush fire was in fact the rising sun lighting up the horizon with its fiery rays. Use this as a teaching story in the coming days, Aquarius. Double-check your initial impressions to make sure they are true. Most importantly, be aware that you may initially respond with worry to events that are actually wonderful or interesting.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): At least a million ships lie at the bottom of the world’s oceans, lakes and rivers. Some crashed because of storms, and others due to battles, collisions or human error. A shipwreck hunter named Sean Fisher estimates that those remains hold over $60 billion worth of treasure. Among the most valuable are the old Spanish vessels that sank while carrying gold, silver, and other loot plundered from the Americas. If you have the slightest inkling to launch adventures in search of those riches, I predict the coming months will be an excellent time. Alternately, you are likely to generate good fortune for yourself through any version of diving into the depths in quest of wealth in all of its many forms.
I am lying on a hammock, on the terrace of my room at the Hotel Mirador, the diary open on my knees, the sun shining on the diary, and I have no desire to write. The sun, the leaves, the shade, the warmth, are so alive that they lull the senses, calm the imagination. This is perfection. There is no need to portray, to preserve. It is eternal, it overwhelms you, it is complete.
