It was in the stars

Constantly falling in and out of love is exhausting. Sorry, baseball.

Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash

I don’t know if I believe in horoscopes. I don’t really know what to believe anymore. 

I do know that a lot of people do believe in horoscopes though, a lesson I learned the hard way. As a young newspaper editor, I accidentally put the same horoscope into the newspaper two weeks in a row for a fairly big Vancouver newspaper. To put it mildly, friends: it was chaos. Over 100 calls came into the office, complaining about the error. I was escorted directly into the head designer’s office when I arrived at work the next day. It was made abundantly clear to me that such an error couldn’t happen again. It was the closest I had ever come to being fired and a stark reminder that horoscopes matter.

That being said, my logical brain suggests that it is all gibberish. How can stars tell us anything? It’s all a little, excuse the pun, galaxy-brained for me. But I do think I believe. Or at the very least, I want to believe. 

I know I’m a Cancer and I know the characteristics that come along with being a Cancer. I think it is human nature to believe there is something besides us pulling the strings; we don’t want to think that the happenings in our lives could be our own doing.

When I spend time reading the characteristics of a Cancer, I see a lot of myself in them. I’m an  emotional overthinker who gets hurt easily and is slow to forgive. Along with those characteristics, I am someone who loves fiercely. When I fall for someone or something, they are the only thing that matters, to the point of self sabotage. 

This isn’t meant to be complementary or attractive, it’s one of my many flaws. Three weeks before I graduated from journalism school, I fell for someone. After spending a night at their place, I basically didn’t leave their bed until graduation. Thankfully my grades were good enough to get through. 

The other side of that coin is that when I am done with someone or something, I tend to move on ferociously and viciously in a cut throat manner. I’ve left people hurt and made decisions that have hurt my finances and friendships. There was a time in my journalism career where I was a prominent combat sports journalist, making good money writing for a number of magazines, blogs, newspapers and websites. I had a vote for the Boxing Hall of Fame, a prestigious honour amongst those who cover the sport. 

One day I woke up and didn’t love combat sports anymore. I found them grotesque, violent and not part of who I wanted to be. My brain switched virtually overnight. I wanted to love them and continue gaining prestige in that industry, but I was done.

Of course, it hadn’t actually been overnight. There was little room for upward movement. The violence and right-wing leanings of combat sports fans were exhausting. Unpaid invoices and unsupportive editors made it a grind. But it was one day that I said I had enough. I quit all my jobs and moved on. 

This isn’t my favourite trait in myself. It makes me difficult to love and, when combined with a fierce introvertness, a challenge to be friends with. I understand this about myself. My relationships, or lack thereof, are a product of the decisions I’ve made. I’ve learned to live with it, while still having a focus on doing better by the people I consider friends. 

These traits also apply to my interests. It doesn’t mean I don’t circle back or still love that thing, but it does mean that when my brain has turned an attraction towards that thing off, I find it almost painful to watch. 

In June, my brain did this towards baseball. I love the sport as much as anyone, but my brain decided that after watching baseball from the opening day of spring training until the end of May, it needed to not see baseball for a while.

That’s not fair to you, dear readers. Especially those who put their money towards this. I want you to know that I’m working on it. I’m committed to giving you what you have committed either your finances or your time towards.  

I’m watching baseball regularly and have fallen head over heels back in love with baseball. I am treating the newsletter like a job, scheduling a part of my day to write. When I’m reading and writing regularly is when I feel the most grounded, so I’m making sure it is part of my daily routine. 

I spent the first week of July in Cape Cod, visiting friends and family. I’ll write about this more in the near future but seeing the passion they had for their team was, despite it being the Red Sox, inspiring. I can only imagine what it would be like to have been down there in my Blue Jays hat during the recent 28-5 drubbing we put on them.

Talk to you soon, friends.