The Dawning: Aquarius


I’ve been counting down since 2005.

I’m not kidding.

I wanted an upheaval of everyday life. No more tall buildings. No more pollution. No more government, money, or capitalism. If it takes a pandemic, a pole shift, a giant volcanic eruption or a galactic alignment, so be it. Just so long as something about this world changes.

There have been so many apocalyptic theories made over the last five or ten years that I don’t dare make a prediction. I don’t believe one will be more likely to occur than the other. In fact, at great reluctance, I’ve resigned myself to the possibility that absolutely nothing could happen.

But hasn’t there been enough evidence in our planet’s history to point to our inevitable demise? Dinosaurs roamed the earth for 160 million years, and a meteor wiped them out. Ice ages and global meltdowns are a part of Earth’s natural climate regulation. Our magnetic poles have shifted several times before, there’s talk of volcanic activity under Yellowstone, and our tectonic plates are moving at rates faster than any scientist has seen before.

As humans, we’re equally as responsible. We’ve depleted the ozone layer by pumping our atmosphere full of greenhouse gases. We’ve contributed to the acceleration of climate change. We’re harvesting nuclear weapons; we’re drilling and spilling our oil. Our economies (which include monetary systems, politics, educational institutions, and businesses both big and small) are so fucked that they’re beyond repair. Our values are off, our health is down, and our waistlines are larger than ever. It’s pretty clear that if we don’t straighten ourselves out, we’re on a sure path to extinction, quite possibly within our lifetime.

If the world doesn’t end next week.

Doomsday conspiracies aside, the most significant change taking place is a shift in our ages. Years ago, when ancient civilizations were at large (and by respect, not so ancient), they mapped the skies and found that the earth rotates on an axis, and wobbles as it revolves around the sun. Consequently, on the morning of the Spring Equinox, roughly every 2,150 years, the sun will rise in a different constellation of the zodiac. This is known as the Precession of the Equinox. The constellation in which the sun rises determines what “age” we’re in. Today, and for the last two thousand years or so, we’ve been in the Age of Pisces, but we’re soon moving out of it, and into the Age of Aquarius.

But what does that mean, exactly?

I don’t really know. But examining patterns derived from past ages might give us a clue. Zodiac

  • Christianity arose during the age of Pisces, which is symbolized by two fish. Throughout the New Testament, there are numerous references to “two fish,” including a verse in Matthew where Jesus feeds 5,000 men with a couple of loaves of bread and two fish.
  • Jesus was aware of the Precession of the Equinox, and in Luke 22:10, he tells his followers what’s coming next. He says, “Behold, when ye are entered into the city, there shall a man meet you, bearing a pitcher of water; follow him into the house where he entereth in.” This water bearer he is referring to is none other than Aquarius.
  • Jesus also reveals, in Matthew, just how long he plans to be with us; “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
  • Judaism was the world’s prominent religion during the Age of Aries. One might notice that to bring in a Jewish New Year, Jews blow a ram’s horn.
  • Also in Judaism, after Moses frees the Hebrews from Egypt, he climbs Mt. Sinai to retrieve the Ten Commandments from God. When he returns with the tablets, he find his people worshiping a golden bull. Moses is livid, and most contemporary Jews believe he was upset to see them worshiping a false idol. But that isn’t entirely true. They were in the Age of Aries, and the bull represented the Age of Taurus, which they were no longer in.
  • In texts that pre-date the Bible, bulls, oxen, and cattle are considered sacred animals. Even in modern day Hinduism, they are considered sacred.
  • Today, with the rise of science and technology, people are beginning to relinquish their beliefs in God. But something new is cropping up in it’s place. Maybe, as we usher in the Age of Aquarius, we’ll discover new truths and let go of our out-dated deities.

If you’re really interested in the ages and their religious ramifications, I would recommend watching this.

In 2005, when I began my countdown to the end of the world, I looked up the definition of apocalypse in the dictionary. Among numerous meanings that implied destruction and devastation, one interpretation stood alone.

Apocalypse (noun)
4. Any revelation or prophecy

It’s possible we misunderstood the Mayans. They prophesied the end of one thing, and the beginning of something new. Astronomically, they were talking about the Precession, but spiritually, they could have been talking about something entirely different. In shedding the old age, the Age of Pisces, we’re expected to shed our old beliefs. What comes next is beyond anyone’s comprehension.

But I know one thing. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the apocalypse. For seven years, I’ve been watching documentaries, reading articles, and discussing with peers what December 21st, 2012 might bring. Obsessed is a good word for it. I’ve been anxious to finally see what happens. As a creative individual, I’ve spent a great amount of time imagining what could be, playing out scenarios in my head just for fun. There’s much room for possibility! But I’m also a logical individual, and for as many apocalyptic theories as I’ve come across, there are just as many facts disputing them. The world, as it turns out, might not end.

There’s only one more week left to go. That’s another 189 hours before we arrive at the date that almost every prophecy points to. Life will go on, or it won’t. What happens will happen.

At this point, we can only wait and see.


Some cool videos you might be interested in:
Zeitgeist on Religion
Shift of the Ages
A Mayan Explanation
2012 & Beyond



I wanted to create something, but all I had was this pencil and this paper. So I drew a picture with my words of a girl touching the sky. She was in white dress, with little black ringlets that bounced freely. From my vantage point, I could blot her out with my thumb.

She was by the shore, barefooted, letting the waves lap at her feet. I could hear her giggle, but she was miles and miles away.  She splashed the water with her hands, twirled around with her arms spread wide, and chased seagulls down the surf.

Then suddenly she looked around. She was searching for someone, and I wondered if it was me. I crossed the sand to reach her. When we stood only a few feet apart, she brushed a curl from her face. “I can’t find my brother. Will you help me look?”

Where are your parents?

She did not answer. Instead, she held out her hand. “Come, let’s go this way. Maybe he’s down here.”

So she slipped her child-hand into mine and we began to walk. Standing beside her now, I could see the more intimate details of her face. Her cheeks were coated with tiny freckles, and her eyes were large and expressive. There was wisdom – endless amounts of it – despite her young age.

We said little as we moved down the beach. Occasionally, she’d bend to pick up a shell and show me. They were always flawless. There wasn’t even a chip. What kind of beach was this, where the shells were never broken?

Time was of little importance. She seemed in no hurry to find her missing sibling. Our feet carried us slowly to the south; at least, I think that’s what direction we were headed.

Finally, we came upon a pier in the distance. It was barely visible at first, but the image continued to sharpen until she finally pulled her hand free. “There he is! Pollux!”

I ran to keep up with her.

Underneath, we found him squatted down, his attention focused on something unseen. Drawing closer, I noticed a stick in his hand, and closer still, a seagull washed upon shore.

He poked at it. “It’s dead.”

Pollux lifted his eyes toward me and I saw the resemblance. His hair was black, like his sister’s, and the freckles on their faces were the same. He was also in white, and I noticed now their clothes were neither wet nor dirty.

“What’s all this black stuff?” his sister asked. It was sticky and shiny on the bird’s coat. It covered its beak, its wings and its feet. It was also in the water, swirling slowly, and staining the sand.

“Death,” he answered.

But I knew better. I’d seen this before. Oil.

The sister looked up at me. “Oil has never reached our shores before.”

How peculiar, I thought. Surveying my surroundings, I suddenly realized I was far from home. There were no buildings. There was only beach that stretched out in all directions. Though it was bright, there was no sun. The sky was cloudy like a New England winter, but despite the thickness, there were stars visible, twinkling proudly. Where are we?



“I’m Castor,” the girl said, “And this is Pollux. You’re in Gemini.”

A planet?

“Not a planet. Just a world different from yours.”

I understood it now. These twins were the only ones. This was their world, and something foreign had just invaded it.

How did I get here?

“You’re here because you want to be,” Castor answered.

“But everything is changing,” Pollux added.

I looked at the bird. There had been others earlier, but now they were out of sight. Were they still there? Did they exist before I arrived?

The pier was new. The twins didn’t have to tell me in order for me to understand. It was the only man-made object as far as the eye could see. Guilt instantly washed over me. I brought the oil.

They nodded.

How can I fix this?

“You can’t,” Pollux told me. “The damage is already done.”

I’m so sorry. I never meant to destroy your world.

“We know,” Castor said for them both.

Something behind me caught Pollux’s eye. He gasped and pointed. “What’s that?”

I whirled around. Off in the distance stood a tall, cylindrical building with a slowly spinning light on its top. It’s a lighthouse.

“What does it do?” Castor asked.

It calls all the ships.

“I don’t understand…”

It lets the sailors know that land is near.

The little girl looked up at me. “More people?”


Pollux cried out and hammered his tiny fists on my legs. “Make it stop!”

I seized his wrists and stepped back. I don’t know how.

“Yes you do,” Castor stated calmly. “You just need to think.”

I nodded. Let’s start with the lighthouse.

They each took my hand and peered up at me. Their innocence was absolute. As we took deliberate steps to reach the lighthouse, we talked.

Are you really the Gemini Twins?

“Of course we are. Why would we claim to be what we’re not?”

I just thought you were stars, not people.

“We are stars.” Castor’s feet stopped, halting our group. She turned her head to the sky and pointed. “Do you see those stars, the three that are in a line? Look to the left, there’s a red one, then just below it. That’s Earth.”

Earth. It was so tiny; barely a speck in a sky. How could it be that everything I’d ever known existed right there? Suddenly I felt so small. This can’t be real, I whispered to myself. I must be dreaming…

“Why would you think that?” Pollux piped in.

People don’t just travel to constellations.

“Your people travel to the moon,” Castor pointed out.

The moon is much closer.

“Distance has little to do with it.”

Then how did I get here?

“You’re here because you want to be.”

When at last we’d reached the lighthouse, we found a door that opened to a staircase, winding its way to the top. Step by step, we climbed our way.

“Do you have lots of these on Earth?” Pollux asked.

Umm… There’s a couple of them….

“You must like lighthouses, since you brought one here,” Castor observed.

I don’t like oil spills and dead animals.

“Sometimes our fears transcend even our brightest imaginations.”

How wise this child was. She spoke with the maturity that can only come from being trillions of years old. I was envious of them. They existed in their own paradise, untouched.

“Are you worried about what we’ll find when we reach the top?”


She fell silent and I instantly wished she’d say something more.

The top of the stairs opened to a wall-less room, with the lighthouse’s life source rotating slowly in its center. We walked over to the edge and looked out, our breaths hitching in our throats.

The sea was filled with ships. Thousands of them, their sails billowing and advancing them steadily forward.

They anchored themselves and lowered rowboats to bring the men ashore. We watched in horror as they broke land and began spreading themselves out. Immediately they began digging, tearing up the ground. “Make them stop!” Pollux shouted at me again.

HEY! I shouted, waving my arms. STOP! NO! PLEASE! It was useless. They couldn’t hear me. I took the stairs two at a time and hurried down the lighthouse, the twins close at my feet.

Men were everywhere when we reached the bottom. Castor and Pollux clung to my legs as we tried to maneuver our way. Stop, I said to them. You’re destroying everything. You don’t belong here. But they didn’t hear me. They moved like soldiers, marching with their tools, breaking up the dirt, putting up walls. Their eyes, I noticed, were black voids. They blindly carried on.

“They have no souls,” Castor explained when I slumped my shoulders. “They won’t listen to reason. The soulless never do.”

“They can’t appreciate our beauty either,” Pollux whimpered.

No, the soulless never do, I agreed

He began frantically beating on my legs again. “Look what you’ve done!”

Why do you think I’m responsible?

“Because you are.” Castor answered.

I didn’t bring them here.

“Yes you did. You’re the only one who could have.”

What do you expect me to do? They’re not listening.

“Make them listen.”


“I don’t know! Only you know!”

No, I don’t!

“Yes you do, think!”

Ahhh!  Frustrated, I turned my back to hide my face. Running my fingers over my scalp, I watched the scene continue to grow around me. There were skyscrapers now, and factories breathing smoke. Smog from the vehicles blotted out the sky.

We could burn everything, I suggested.

Castor put her hand on my arm, “No. Fire is too dangerous. You have no control over your thoughts.”

My thoughts? What do my thoughts have to do with it?

“They have everything to do with it,” Pollux said softly.

Suddenly there was whistling, then a crash, and a boom. We were flying, and then I was on the ground. I forced myself to sit, terrified for Castor and Pollux. They were beside me, holding each other for support. We were scraped and bloody, but we were still together.

The sight before us grew darker. The sky turned red, and as buildings crumbled, more went up in their place. There was war, and death. There was screaming, and blood. Bombs continued to fly. Soulless army against soulless army marched at each other, wielding weapons of hate. Rubble filled the streets and dust clouded the air. Pollux raised his shirt to cover his nose and Castor pleaded me. “Please hurry.”

But I was lost. Terrified, I didn’t know how I got here. I was so far from home, where nothing made sense. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breath. I didn’t know how I brought the destruction, and now I feared there was nothing I could do to fix it. Tears welled up in my own eyes and my bottom lip quivered. I’m so sorry…

Castor began to cry as she comforted her brother. “But I believe in you.”

You shouldn’t.  

The ground was shaking beneath our feet. We were doomed. The Soulless would tear this world apart until there was nothing left of it.

There was another blast nearby. I dove to the ground, determined to protect them this time. I wished there was something I could do. I wanted more than anything to save their world. If only I could wave a magic wand and-

I’ve got it! Suddenly, I knew the answer. Castor had been right all along! I quickly stood up and pulled them to their feet, wiping away their tears. They peered up at me expectantly. Hope was renewed!

I understood it now. My thoughts were manifesting into reality. Subconsciously, I was morphing the world around me. It seemed fitting that a lighthouse would be nearby, and so there was. I worried about drawing more ships, and I did. Tucked away in the back of my mind, industrialization haunted me, bringing the trouble here and destroying Gemini’s serenity.

But now I had the upper hand. I knew how to make this right for Castor and Pollux. Before leaving this land, I swore I’d return it to its former glory.

Winking at the twins, I faced the mess I’d made. This was my imagination. I created everything about this world, and I started with only a pencil and a paper. I could restore order. I could make everything perfect again. All I had to do was erase it.