As I titled this post, I thought guiltily: should I be more honest? Should I call it: “The best thing about Leos, as seen by a non-astrologer?” I mean, the truth is I only know I’m a typical Pisces because other people have told me. I read the daily horoscope in the paper as a child purely because I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian household and this was my tiny, silent, act of rebellion.

Expertise is not what this year is about, though. A week ago, Elephant friends, I resolved to start a journey of writing to you every week about finding ourselves again after our worlds have shifted. My aim is to follow a full cycle of the sun as theme for this written meditation. And since the sun is in the sign of the lion this month, I’m reading and meditating on the characteristics of people born under this bold, beautiful constellation, and connecting with the parts of me powerful enough to roar.

Every Leo I’ve known has been a natural leader and showman. They walk into a room and rule it. No Pride Rock needed. When we were young, the kids born at the end of July and the beginning of August didn’t seem to have friends on the playground; they had audiences or minions, depending on whether they preferred telling stories or acting them out.

I love that about Leos. I can bask in the warmth of their creative, courageous ideas, the tenacity and fixed fire with which they pursue them.

Of course, I have other memories of Leos, too. My mother was a Leo, and when someone challenged her way of doing things, she would pull back her chin, look them in the eye and say: “Well, enjoy doing it without me.” Ouch. Deep burn. Mom, as I mentioned, was religious and involved in church music. After her death, I heard a priest, someone who outranked my mother by miles, muttering: “she held us all to ransom with her ideas about appropriate music.” What a typical Leo thing to do.

So, what can the non-Leos amongst us learn from the Leos in our lives?

I believe we can all learn to be prouder of ourselves and our ideas. We can pause before we enter a room, wrap the cloak of a lion around us, lift our chins, and look life in the eye, even if other people question us. They may have a point. But so do we, friends. So do we.

So I invite you to let your inner lion roar a little in the coming weeks.

Trust me.

The world needs your ideas.

This post is the second in a series. You can read the first one here: https://elejrnl.com?p=3460090