On our memorial-trip to Hocking Hills and Waverly, back in October, Mom and I got lost, making a four hour trip into a six hour one. It was a little scary, because it was dark and we were down some lonely back roads. There are times, too, when Ohio seems like prime real-estate in Stephan King's head.
Although we were frustrated, frightened and exhausted, we don't regret our little side-trip. We got to see something amazing, something that tears to our eyes and took our breath away: It was a cemetery, spread over a couple of rolling hills. At each of the headstones glowed one of those solar-powered lawn-lights. In the dark, with no other lights for miles, it looked like we were passing a field of stars. I breathlessly told my Mom that Alistar Crowley said that every man and woman is a star and there we had the truth of his words right in front of us.
Living and dead, we are stars. We each dance in our own path, sometimes colliding, sometimes coming together to form galaxies, sometimes shining alone. From far away, sometimes, we appear to be fixed, to be constantly on the move or blinking along. Up close, it might appear to be the opposite and the reality of it all might be something completely different that what we ever expected. It might even take a while for someone's light to reach us.
You'd be hard-pressed, too, to find someone who wouldn't describe the stars as "beautiful." Even someone who finds the vastness of the sky disturbing might well toss that adjective in there. And we are that, too, for all the frustratingly idiotic and monstrous things we do.
I don't pay particular mind to the saying that "God made each of us." It's not very comforting when you think that Gods, too, pull some pretty amazing boners. However, I do find some comfort in Crowley's thought of each man and woman being a star.
On the other hand, it puts a rather disturbing spin on John Dee's thought of "The stars rule men, but wise men rule the stars."
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