I must admit—I’ve been an emotional mess lately.
Aside from being on my cycle and the intensity of this eclipse portal, memories of someone who played such an important role in my life have been flooding my mind and heart.
But before I tell you more about that…what was going on in your life around March of 2015?
This upcoming Virgo New Moon and partial solar eclipse at 29 degrees will be a direct response to a Pisces eclipse at 29 degrees that happened during that time—specifically March 20, 2015.
That year didn’t hold too much significance for me. At least not at the top of my mind, although I can’t deny that my memory has become hazy at best.
However, the presence of my late mentor Scott Carter came rushing through one night as I was trying to sleep, and suddenly I’m sobbing in bed and processing grief I didn’t even know I was still carrying.
What I’m about to tell you is not just a nice story. It’s an example of how to follow the breadcrumbs of the Universe. As I always say—magick is subtle. It’s not pulling a rabbit out of a hat. It’s following those quiet whispers from your intuition, that end up leading you exactly where you’re meant to be.
I can feel a huge chapter of my life coming to a close, but I couldn’t tell you what that is exactly. Regardless, Scott seems to have his hands all up in it somehow.
I met Scott Carter in 2009. I remember it like it was yesterday.
My radio professor at Pasadena City College asked me to come to his classroom during lunch one day to meet someone—and that someone was a man who resembled Santa Clause and had a booming voice that you could feel vibrate off your skin.
Scott was teaching a live radio class that summer, and my professor thought I would be a great addition to the class.
I felt differently.
For years, I would take classes every quarter in order to complete my transfer to University, and that was going to be my first summer off. I expressed that, but said I’d think about it.
I couldn’t tell you what led me to joining the class—but I’m so glad I did.
I hosted a show called The Dish, which was all about love, dating and relationships (of course). I learned how to use a soundboard, check time cues and work the mic. When it came time to do my first live show, I was terribly nervous, and Scott knew that.
Afterwards, he led me outside the class to give me feedback and said, “I never wanna hear that nervous shit again. You’re a natural and you’re great at this!”
That was him in a nutshell. When he saw potential, he’d do everything in his power to nourish it. He poured life into the students he took under his wing—including me. And I don’t know if he ever knew how much I needed that.
After that moment, he became my mentor. Not in a way of telling me what to do, but by giving me perspective and being someone who always acknowledged and validated my work.
He celebrated with me when I got my job at E!, he told me my relationship at the time may not work out because he’ll get jealous (he was right), and he would read every single blog post I’d write for The Problem With Dating and share his feedback while always sneaking in a personal anecdote from his own dating history—which was plenty.
Scott lost his wife to cancer near the beginning of their marriage. When he talked about Ruth, his eyes would light up. I knew this man experienced it—he found love that people search lifetimes for. And the pain of having that taken away hurt my heart.
Despite being nearly 30 years my senior, this Irish, Aries man, who had quite the history—from being a medic in the Navy to a radio host that conducted 7,000 interviews in just a couple of years—was my friend. He saw me in a way many didn’t, and maybe he knew that, too.
He was like a father to me.
When I learned that this upcoming eclipse was connected to March 20, 2015…I started digging (as any journalist would, of course). It seemed important, especially since a few days prior, I found a penny on the ground dated 2015. The Universe was getting my attention.
I scrolled back in my photo album to see if there was any imagery that could jog my memory—nothing.
I went back in my calendar—nothing.
That’s when I decided to check my emails, and when I began to half-regret my decision, because how the hell am I going to do this—my eyes darted to a folder labeled “Scott Carter.”
After Scott passed, I put all of our emails together in a folder so that I could easily reminisce when I wanted to, and I just knew that’s where I was going to find whatever I was looking for.
Sure enough, there was an email dated March 20, 2015 titled, “Lyrics” about a song called “Bernadette”:
Below are excerpts -- attached are the full lyrics. It ain't Shakespeare -- but the simple passion is something I haven't heard in a long time. The Four Tops are a 60's Motown group -- this is a song you'll hear periodically but only recognize the sound. I admit I don't hear a lot of new music -- so I hope some plain romance seeps through. When I read your blog I get the sense this is something your generation just doesn't "get." Lovers should praise each other -- or at the very least let the other know what they feel.
And when I speak of you I see envy in other men's eyes …they'd give the world and all they own for just one moment we have known.
In your arms I find the kind of peace of mind the world is searching for, but you, you give me the joy this heart of mine has always been longing for.
I treasure you and place you high above, for the only joy in life is to be loved. You mean more to me, than a woman was ever meant to be.
Oh, but that’s not all…
The next day, he followed up with quite a lengthy email about my blog posts and the men I’ve encountered, how Benjamin Franklin was quite a womanizer during the American Revolution, and how intimacy and pleasure doesn’t go way as you get older…it just changes.
And then he said this:
You are a beautiful and magnificent young woman -- but 30 is gonna hit you faster than you can imagine. You'll weather that just fine -- but then there's 40 -- and you'll wonder how that got here. By then your magnificence will be absolutely radiant. Fifty? That's like the stealth bomber. If you're on Colorado Boulevard for the Rose Parade you don't know it's there until it's over your head. At 50 you will be an absolutely spectacular woman -- but the men you look at so deliciously now will be considering you with the same thought of me having a sex life. To be fair -- we ain't gonna video it either -- the thought of that visual is equally disturbing to me.
But the substance -- the truth of it -- is simple: who you're with -- how it feels -- and what it means. A friend who has known you for 50 years -- stood by you for 50 years -- and still cares for you after 50 years of ups & downs is significant. The physicality of it it is just another manifestation of the old phrase "The pleasure of your company." There is no substitute for simply being there. For all those years Ruth & I were together the simple feel of her foot on my calf as we slept was more powerful that anything we could have said. Emotionally we were home. As Hanks said in Sleepless in Seattle -- "Like no home I've ever known."
You have not had the luxury of longevity -- you simply haven't lived that many years. I ache for you to meet "The Guy" -- the one who will be there for you over decades -- who will love you when everything turns to shit -- when you're faced with terrible unexpected events -- and get through them together. Someone who won't give a shit about how you look but how you ARE -- somebody you can count on -- somebody who wants to give you pleasure. I've had that luxury many times over -- if it all stops tomorrow I still won't believe how my good fortune lasted so long…I hope I live long enough to see you experience that. Not the Old Age part -- I won't live that long -- but to see you with a true partner. It's no accident that the song that resonated with Ruth and me was Stand By Me.
Scott died that December in his sleep.
Sometimes my tears feel selfish, rooted in the bitter knowing that he never got to experience that, yet hoping that someday, he will, from wherever he is. And perhaps, he’s pulling some strings to help make it happen.
I always tell clients to look for those God winks, the moments that are so easily missed, but matter the most. These are the moments that remind you you’re not doing it alone, and that even those who have transitioned are helping guide you in ways you may not even realize.
Scott was and always will be an angel of mine, and even though he’s no longer physically here, he keeps guiding me, teaching me and reminding me of what matters most.
One of the last emails he wrote me, “This one is worth reading…” was a story about judgement, and I’m going to end this by sharing it with you:
A lovely little girl was holding an apple in each hand. Her mum came in and softly asked her little daughter with a smile; my sweetie, could you give your mum one of your two apples?
The girl looked up at her mum for some seconds, then she suddenly took a quick bite on one apple, and then quickly on the other.
The mum felt the smile on her face freeze. She tried hard not to reveal her disappointment.
Then the little girl handed one of her bitten apples to her mum,and said: mummy, here you are. This is the sweeter one.
No matter who you are, how experienced you are, and how knowledgeable you think you are, always delay judgement.
Give others the privilege to explain themselves.
What you see may not be the reality. Never conclude for others.
Which is why we should never only focus on the surface and judge others without understanding them first.
Those who like to pay the bill, do so not because they are loaded but because they value friendship above money.
Those who take the initiative at work, do so not because they are stupid but because they understand the concept of responsibility.
Those who apologize first after a fight, do so not because they are wrong but because they value the people around them.
Those who are willing to help you, do so not because they owe you any thing but because they see you as a true friend.
Those who often text you, do so not because they have nothing better to do but because you are in their heart.
Those who take out time to chat with you, does not mean they are jobless or less busy, but they know the importance of keeping in touch.
One day, all of us will get separated from each other; we will miss our conversations of everything & nothing; the dreams that we had. Days will pass by, months, years, until this contact becomes rare...
One day our children will see our pictures and ask 'Who are these people?' And we will smile with invisible tears because a heart is touched with a strong word and you will say: 'IT WAS THEM THAT I HAD THE BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE WITH'.
Xo