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Libra on the Highwire Highway

(All photos are linked to the source pages where I found them)

I seem to remember reading quite a while ago, I think probably written by Eric Francis, something to the effect that Librans are not so much about "balance" or any sort of "scales"; rather, we're more about the razor-fine edge on which those scales are so precariously, delicately perched. If I may presume to speak for my Solar kindred, we Librans tend to walk -- indeed, we must walk -- a very fine line. We have found the circumstances of our lives to be very unforgiving when we wander too widely from our optimal path, or if we choose our next stepping stone poorly or our next highway exit in haste.

I am reminded here of the game of Operation, where your toy patient, "Cavity Sam", will complain loudly (replete with a loud buzzer & flashing red nose) if your electrified pretend-surgical tweezers happen to touch the sides of the narrow aperture given to perform, say, a funny-bonectomy. Aside from this buzzing, flashing & quite startling "instant karma", there's also the actual consequence of losing your turn & having to wait for the next go'round, & the implied consequence that your imprecision has just killed, or at least gravely endangered, your virtual patient.

However, another image also comes to mind, one perhaps more compatible with the traditional symbol of Libra & evocative of our condition: the tightrope or highwire walker. Picture here the image of the Libran scales, where the walker on his wire forms the fulcrum post, & the transverse arc of his drooping balance bar forms the seesaw lever. This notion of "Libran balance", like the wire-walker's bar, is really just a means towards our ends, a practical tool to maintain stability & avoid teetering off the wire into the abyss below; balance is the compass by which we find & follow our true path, lest we wander into a dangerous & unpredictable, or at least distracting & unproductive wilderness. (Pardon my promiscuous mixing of metaphors, but no map should be confused for the actual territory, nor should one attempt to eat a restaurant menu, so hopefully my points come across, analogies notwithstanding.)

Philippe Petit, a French aerialist, walked, danced, & even leapt about on a wire strung a quarter-mile high between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center shortly before their completion in 1974 -- an act said to have humanized the Towers & turned around public perception of them, from an imposing, arrogant monstrosity -- an "architectural mistake" -- into what they eventually became, the avatars of New York City, & of the USA, & of freedom & human aspiration & worldwide economic cooperation.

"I walk the highwire; I had to walk real high to see today." -"Dust", Fields of the Nephilim, Dawnrazor

"It was an ocean of adventure & full of obstacles & sea monsters probably. All that disappeared when I set foot on the cable. But it was not a surprise. It was not a new condition. I said I never thought about the walk. Maybe I thought about the walk all along, without psychologically realizing I was thinking about the walk. So when I found myself on the wire, facing the wire, one foot on the wire, one foot on the building, & ready to decide to shift my weight to become a bird, to become a wire walker on that wire, it was not something new. It was something that I know I belong to, something that, as opposed to the ocean of hazards, was something simple.

The wire is a safe place for me to be. The street is not. Life is not. It's a rigorous & simple path. It's straight. You don't have meanders like, you know, on the ground, in life. There are no obstacles, no red lights, no bad guys, no politicians, no representative authorities with uniforms. You suddenly -- And there is no life. There is something much more supreme than life. There is carrying one's life across -- Not chancing it, because I'm really not somebody who is ready to play with life, mine or the one of the building or others. But I was finally finding myself living, because I had now opened the door to living on the edge, living the only place where it's worth living, which is fully, & grabbing my life & carrying my life across. It's the most beautiful profession in the world...

...Somehow I did this shift from being grounded to being aerial. And I started gliding, & the first crossing -- There might have been only one -- but the first crossing is always an interrogation between me & the place where I anchored my wire, me & the wire itself, because there's no way to test that wire before. So the first crossing has a little bit of a test to it. But I didn't even took the full length of the crossing to get to know the rigging & the vibration of the building & the wire. After a few steps, I knew I was in my element & I knew the wire was not well rigged (we had some tremendous problem during the whole night of rigging) but it was safe enough for me to carry on. And then, very slowly as I walked, I was overwhelmed by a sense of easiness, a sense of simplicity. And actually I can be seen on the first pictures smiling, smiling probably out of disbelief. It's so easy, after all those years & months of ups & down & detours, victories & disasters. Finally I was carrying my life on a path that was the simplest, the most beautiful, & the easiest. I shouldn't say that, but why not? It's very easy to walk on a wire if you spend a whole lifetime practicing for it. So I was actually enjoying myself tremendously, & I was feeling the bird in me, the feathers in my arm grow. And then somehow I improvised on that wire, & I found myself spending 45 minutes & doing eight crossings."

-Philippe Petit, transcript excerpt from the PBS documentary American Experience:"Center of the World", ©2003 Steeplechase Films & WGBH Educational Foundation

"They say there's three doors to go through; I only want the one that leads to you, because only one leads to you."
-"Three Doors", VAST, Visual Audio Sensory Theater

This awareness, perhaps, also accounts for classic Libran indecision (or, to be fair & accurate, our well-deliberated & painstaking decisions); not only are we acutely aware of every option available (if you want to be sure you're seeing all your alternatives, ask a Libran), we also know that only one is the best among the rest, that some among the rest are better than others, & that choosing poorly could well have far-reaching & unpredictable, even disastrous consequences, perhaps leading us into danger or taking us far astray from where we want or need to go -- not to mention incurring possible risks to innocent bystanders, & who are we to endanger others in our own haste & folly? Just one false move, & the wire-walker founders & falls, the stream-crosser slips & drowns, or Little Red Riding Hood gets lost in the forest & eaten by the Wolf (or maybe starves before reaching Grandma's house -- better take time to pack extra in that pic-a-nic basket, just in case). This also illustrates the Libran tendency to counter any imbalance with an equal & opposite imbalance -- if the wire-walker leans too far to one side, the only way to avoid falling off entails lowering the opposite end of the bar quite drastically, but only just enough to correct the lean without over-correcting & falling off the other side of the wire.

"In theory, there's no difference between theory & practice, but in practice, there is."
-Jan L.A. van de Snepscheut (not Yogi Berra :-)

Perhaps this says something about the Libran lesson of the past season, & not just for those of us born on the "highwire highway". We face certain choices, & although none of our available alternatives may be ideal or perfect, in each case only one option is the best among the rest. We must go beyond idle theory & put our theories to the test of practice, we must choose as best we can & put our choices into action, & we must be willing to accept responsibility for the results & prepared to deal with the consequences, good & bad alike, however they may manifest.