I just got back from Georgia, where I gathered with all my living Yates cousins. This was the first time we'd all been together since 1954, and it was my well-loved aunt's memorial service that brought us all to that little southern town. The piney woods were green, the sky was blue, and there was iced tea and a prayer at every meal. I haven't yet written my thank you letters. I'm writing y'all first. (Isn't it useful having a second person plural? I hope y'all agree.)

We didn't fight at all, even though half of us were Democratic atheists and/or Unitarians, and the other half were right-wing Christians. I seem to have been the only pagan, and I'm not sure whether that constituted a middle ground or not.

Being with my southernmost cousins, I was like an anthropologist studying a tribe that I had heard about, but never imagined meeting. So these were the people who voted for George Bush? Wow, they look just like me, except for way more conscious hair control.

It was a loud, exuberant gathering. When we broke into little groups, the atheist/Unitarian group vented about too much god, and no doubt the Christian group vented about too little. But when we were all together, we all talked at the same time, shouting above each other to figure out things like our birth order.

Mainly we talked about family, about the grandmother we all shared - Murr, pronounced "Muhh" - and about the details of our current lives. People whipped out photographs of absent children. I casually outed myself, mentioning "my partner" without trying to disguise her gender. If people were surprised, they managed to stay cool about it.

We even briefly lit on politics, all agreeing that peace was better than war. They refrained from trying to convince me that this Iraqi war was one of the okay ones, and I refrained from getting out a bible and pointing to the sixth commandment.

Sometimes, gazing at the ever-present plate of barbecue, my mind would flash back a couple of weeks earlier, to Womonwrites. It was only about twenty-five miles away, the state park where the lesbian writers always gather at the beginning of June. Another tribal gathering, this one of sisters rather than cousins. Another bunch of raucous, exuberant people, possessed by the spirit of art. My cousins share a grandmother, my sisters share a Muse.

I love flamboyant people. I celebrate them: the brash Southern accents of my cousins, the outrageous lesbian chic of my sisters. I especially like it when flamboyant people can get along with other flamboyant people, when loud colors don't collide, when insistent voices affirm and include rather than attacking and denying.

And this is the astrological challenge that we're coming up to. Saturn is moving into Leo in July, and it will stay there for the next two and a half years. Leo is the sign that brings out the loudmouth in all of us. It's fiery, passionate, bold, dramatic, proud, egotistical, and abundantly creative.

Saturn is the planet of time and wisdom, and it sets an earthly agenda for us, tempered by its sign. Saturn is also the sign of fear crystallized by hard experiences, and so it points us towards activity that seems to protect us from whatever we fear. Saturn has been in the watery sign Cancer for the last two and a half years, and the focus has been on emotion, security and the home. The populace is much more easily manipulated through patriotic sentiment when there's an important placement in Cancer.

But with Saturn in Leo, this will be a lot less true. People will stand up and shout louder than they ever have before. The stage will be crowded with people who have something important to say. Everybody in power will be challenged by those who would like to be in power. Leo is a sign of risk, and so people will take risks in order to become more visible, and to attain leadership positions.

Even though people will be feistier while Saturn is in Leo, the public can still be manipulated. Our weak point will be our pride. Hubris is the one thing that the gods love to bat around, and the U.S. has been broadcasting hubris on a broad band for a long time.

What is it that we should be doing, while Saturn is in Leo? What is the path of our greater wisdom? It's not about keeping our mouths shut, because Leo is an exuberant fire sign and must express itself. Is it possible to be strong in one's own sense of self, without diminishing other people? Can you breathe the fire of creative passion without blowing out everyone else's fire? Why not? This will be the challenge of Saturn in Leo.

To make use of the energy of this planet, we must be vivid, colorful, and fully alive. There is plenty of room in the world for our passion, our playfulness, our joy. There is room for each of us to dance, without knocking anyone else down. Saturn is the Crone planet, the old lady who nags us and tries to correct our behavior - but in Leo, she's a Hag with Spirit. She's an old southern lady with big hair, sitting on a rhinestone motorcycle. Or she's an old dyke with a tattoo of the sun on her forehead. There's no ignoring her. She is here now.

In July, there is a moderating influence, and that's Jupiter in the well-balanced sign Libra. Jupiter in Libra is mannered, courteous, cooperative, every inch a team player. Yet Jupiter has a challenge in July, and that's the inconjunct to Uranus in Pisces. You could imagine this aspect as a Very Polite Lady (Jupiter in Libra) trying to teach manners to a Rebel Mermaid (Uranus in Pisces).

On the mundane level, Jupiter in Libra represents the judiciary, and this part of our society has been under attack ever since Jupiter entered this sign. This could be intensified in July. Uranus in Pisces represents the further reaches of spiritual feeling. This feelings is genuine but inimical to the more rational and egalitarian approach of Jupiter in Libra.

For all of us, Jupiter in Libra represents the part of us that wants a civilized world, peaceful and harmonious, bound by mutually-agreed-upon rules. Meanwhile, Uranus in Pisces is the rebel side that also lives in each of us. She wants to swim in the realm of pure emotion, to follow whims, to do everything by instinct. Sometimes she wants to escape from reality into an alternate dimension, and in the US, escapism is big business. How do we reconcile these parts of ourselves? This will be part of our work in July, to bring together law and instinct.

If the atheists and the Christians can eat at the same picnic table, talk about our mutual grandmother, and hug each other goodnight, surely we can all find common cause? We all have a mutual grandmother. Right now, Saturn in Leo is our grandmother, and she is stepping up to the mike. Her big teeth sparkle in the sunlight. She has a lot to say, and she won't be done speechifying for another couple of years.

Index of Jenny Yates' Writings on Lesbian.com