(Beth Hoeckel/For The Times)
Who—or what—is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house that rules joy, passion, and all that is lovable, never fails to be a welcome presence for those with good taste. As different as Leos are (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with others and always demanding that their endearing illusion that they are unmistakably unique be indulged), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, the ethical thing to do is to observe the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate gaze. But since my Uranian predominance lends itself to breaking the rules, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject a frozen, sleeping heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with a laugh, a hug, an utterly ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?
I can’t help but think of an analogy with the Snow Peak Takibi Solo portable fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (aka your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure: It might be a forbidden fire on Malibu beach that may or may not have the fire department called to your house by well-meaning cliffside residents with too much disposable cash, and therefore time to be nemesis to fun. Maybe it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the doorman to remind your prized Leo actor to behave with a little more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s aching with the agonizing passion only an expansive lionheart could conjure. Because no one loves like a Leo, that fiery, pulsating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives as much and as generously to others as it gives to itself.
Because no one loves like a Leo, that fiery, pulsating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives as much and with the same generosity to others as it does to itself.
Along those lines (or flames), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations, and energies can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday ray of sunshine? The Takibi chimney is silver, reflective—a tribute to the contagious way a Leo’s self-love reflects all the empty spaces in everyone around them who could use a little compassion. And, as what’s above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A scorned Leo is as dangerous as a wildfire in the night, raging with rejection from the very world it bleeds over. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be forced to entertain others through tears. In fact, when the time comes, the contents of the Takibi fireplace are extinguished and the stainless steel appliance is stored away until the next flame arrives.
So, this is a love letter dedicated to our dear Leos: we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternally, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.
Goth Shakira is a digital magician based in Los Angeles.
