Are Your Planets Lobbying for their Own Agendas--Or Are You Listening to your North Node?

 "Planets Lobbying for their Own Agendas"
     In the February issue of Mountain Astrologer, Laurence Hillman did a great job of explaining the Nodes, especially in saying that they operate on a soul level rather than a personality level. And as such, they operate not simply as planetary actors/archetypes, but have an unusual position in the analysis of the chart.


I'd like to add that the South Node is not only where we've come from--like in his train analogy--but it's also like the arrow that shoots through the ancient astrolabe--it points to our personal North Star or North Node--in a direction that is crucial for our Soul's growth. Although the South Node holds the past evolutionary/reincarnational story of our lives and its dangerous, default, and overused patterns, the North Node is "our calling" or vocation. Carl Jung said that there is "gold in the shadow of our psyche" yet when comparing the importance of the North vs. the South Node, I chose to focus on the North Node in my book: "North Node Astrology; Rediscovering Your Life Direction and Soul Purpose." In these times, I think it is a profound act to give the Soul a voice in the re-discovering of our lives. The planets are lobbyists pulling for their agendas, but we can't let them overpower this voice! As Jungians might say, this arrow--this North Node--is where the true gold resides....

~elizabeth spring

There are No Atheists in Foxholes

“Hell is hot, isn’t it?” I shouted to Peter while hurrying through the Paris airport. I thought how hell happens in the “in-between times”: the times when you don’t know if you will make it or not—those times between the biopsy and the result, between the labor and the birth, between the knowing whether you are loved or not. We were in-between planes, and yet I had been looking forward to the flight back to the States with Peter. We were in the in-between time of knowing if we could love again or not, and I felt in my bones that by the end of this flight we would know. We would have a chance to talk, and after 5 years of divorce, of silence, who knows? We might have changed just enough to bridge the in-between.

I glanced again at our tickets as we walked down the aisle: “Isabelle Bailey: seat 15 E Peter Cocroft 15 F.” He had the window seat, I had the aisle. We were the last to board the plane with only 5 minutes before take-off. Thank God the air-conditioning would be on soon.

I pulled out my laptop and opened it to my chart for today, July 21st. Transiting Mars opposing my Venus; Mercury squaring Uranus at this very hour. Hm…it didn’t look the way I wanted it to look. As astrologers say, it’s not “auspicious” for flying when Mercury, Uranus and Mars aren’t in harmony. And I knew that Pluto, god of the underworld, was squaring off to my Libra Sun—my basic identity. Sigh. I closed the screen with a snap, shut my eyes and listened as the engines struggled to turn over. The overhead light bleeped on and off.

Peter pulled out a book to read. I snuck a look at the title: “Truth is a Pathless Land; Krishnamurti.” So he was still into that stuff; the “be awake and aware philosophy” that I wasn’t so sure of—it paradoxically smacked of both atheism and spiritual pride. I don’t know, I guess there was goodness there too, but it felt cold. I wasn’t going to dwell on that now or even mention our differences. I closed my eyes and waited. It was 15 minutes past take off time and I listened to hear the reassuring sound of the engines starting up . Could they have overheated on the tarmac?

I caught the steward passing by. “Is there any chance of getting the air turned on?” I asked, in my most pleasant, but transparent voice.

“I’m sure as soon as soon as the captain can do it, he will.” If the steward was a dog, he would have bitten me, or at least snapped.

Peter waved his hand as if to quiet me, to get me to calm down. He closed his book and his eyes. I tried not to see that as being dismissive, knowing that Peter was not always aware of how he affected others. He meant no harm. I stared at the curling gray wisps of hair on his forehead and saw again that face with the same serene kind look I had always loved. And then I looked away—what would he have thought if he saw me staring at him now—a woman with sweat running down her face in rivulets, smearing her eye make-up into dark raccoon eyes. I wondered if he could still see the wide eyed yearning in my eyes, the woman he had once married. But he didn’t look. The eyes of this menopausal woman were the same, though the blonde hair was now short and cropped rather than long and loose.

I looked instead at my hands and stared at the finger where my wedding band had been. I had left the finger bare, but had bought myself an onyx ring for the other hand; a ring that recognized my new commitment to myself. I was trying to take good care of myself these days.

I looked down at my computer, and put it under the seat. Even it was making me hot.



Peter’s eyes remained closed. It was a bit annoying, really—he could at least ask me how I was feeling. “So Peter,” I finally whispered, “What do you think? I mean, is this plane going to take off?” I wanted to say more, but this was at least a start. He opened his eyes as if he was coming out of a deep trance. I couldn’t help but think how people with a lot of Neptune-Pisces energy in their birth chart seem to be able to block out this world and retreat to another planet. He was one of those, but I was not going to sit here alone in silence.



“What?” he asked. He knew I was disturbing his attempt to escape and that I did it anyway. The attendant interrupted us: “We’re being delayed, the pilot has suggested we offer you complimentary snacks or beverages, as we may be stalled for a while longer.”

“For how long?” I asked.

“Oh not long, I’m sure.” The attendant smiled, shrugged and lifted his eyebrows wickedly. I was sure he was gay, and wondered if he felt powerful seeing certain people like me squirm. I shouldn’t make sweeping judgments like that, as I hated people making judgments of me as an astrologer.

“I’ll have a white wine with ice, and what about you Peter?” He shook his head no, and pulled out an eye pillow and put it across his eyes.

I touched his arm. “Peter….” Let’s be present for each other now. Let’s make the best of it.”

He nodded his head yes, but said nothing. He didn’t take off his eye patch. “You know,” I continued, “you could take a lay-over in Boston for a few days before going back to San Francisco…we could spend some time together.”

He sighed. His hand reached over for mine and tapped mine as if to calm me down. Then he refolded his hands on his lap. He had no rings on his hands but they were more wrinkled than I remembered.

I sipped my wine. We were now seriously delayed. I could feel the mood in the cabin and it wasn’t good. People began talking more, but not us. Another ten minutes passed. I finished my wine. Peter’s forehead was dripping with sweat.

“Peter?”

“What? What do you need?”

“I don’t know…. to talk?” I paused. It was hard to make small talk in hell. “Do you believe in love still?”

“I don’t know Isabelle. What does it say there in the chart?

I gritted my jaw. “About love? About us? The plane?” “I thought you didn’t believe in astrology, so why are you asking me about it now? Is that sarcasm or do you really want to know?” I tried to take a deep breath. “I’ll tell you-- things don’t look so good right now.”

He didn’t say anything. Perhaps he was pondering the questions. I ventured a solution: “If you wouldn’t label me and my work, and put me in a box of sorts …..if you chose to see me as not knowing all the answers, or trying to control…well, we could have a chance. I’m simply trying to survive…and trying to reach you, Peter. I’m sorry, maybe I’ve done it poorly.”

“I know, Isabelle, I know….” The engines started up again and then stalled with an irritating whine. Their noise made it almost impossible to talk.

I raised my voice. “Do you still believe in God? I asked. “I mean, despite all the rational reasons to the contrary, do you believe that God—that love--can still survive in this world—I mean, do you believe that we could be together? That you and I could have a second chance?”

The engines let out a terrible noise. Peter grabbed my hand. He looked suddenly terrified and I could see he was barely breathing. The sweat poured down his face. I brought his hand up to my cheek and moved his fingers across my lips.

“Oh my god, Isabelle….there aren’t any atheists in foxholes.”

Then he leaned over towards me and looked at me as if for the first time. His other hand reached for mine. Sometimes Peter wasn’t good with words, but I knew in that moment, he was willing to give us a try again. The dangers around us were deep.

But it wasn’t his voice I heard just then, instead it was the intercom: “Please leave the airplane immediately; do not bother to take your overhead luggage..we will get it to you. Exit immediately to the front of the plane. Attendants will be here; do not delay; when you are de-planed we will reroute each of you to other planes that will take you to your final destination point. The attendants will make sure that all families traveling together will stay together on route to your destination.”

Nobody panicked, but to say we walked out quickly was too mild. We moved in a hot steaming roll, and Peter was shuffled off to one small plane and me to another. We weren’t a family, and so Peter Cocroft and Isabelle Bailey were each going home separately. The old craft was overheated and dangerous, but who knew the future? I certainly didn’t know, but I felt hope as I pondered all the possible ways that Pluto, Venus and Mars might play out in my life now. Maybe even Uranus could be kind. ~

~elizabeth spring elizabethspring@aol.com (Excerpt from book in progress: The Private Papers of A Reluctant Astrologer)

Ophiuchus and The Einstein Enigma

This is a very moving and healing article and video, not only on the not new "sign or constellation",  but on healing the cold war between astronomers and astrologers, and science vs spirituality.


Ophiuchus and The Einstein Enigma

"Don't Let Reality Get in Your Way" ~ Caroline Casey

“Don’t Let Reality Get in Your Way” ~Caroline Casey


Dear Isabelle~

It’s been so long since we wrote! I’m so glad we finally caught up with each other, and our lives, and that you finally sent me your new friend’s chart to analyze. I thought it might be good practice for me, as an “aspiring astrologer” to try to interpret Tomas’ chart--or maybe just to question you about it.

You seem quite “taken with him” if I might say—in the old fashioned way. But when I look at his chart I worry a little for you. OK, so he’s a charismatic assertive Aries, with a secretive (and sensitive!) Cancer Moon with Scorpio Rising. Sounds like he’s a charming alpha male the stuff of romance novels—but—really? Look at his Moon conjuncting Pluto and Pluto ruled Scorpio rising, and all that 8th house energy—again ruled by Pluto.



I think I would find it hard to trust him. All those square aspects between his Aries Sun, North Node and all those 5th house planets—(“give me love!” I can hear them screaming—or at least, “listen to me!” and they are all squaring his Cancer 8th house planets. Feels paradoxical to me: can’t seem to reconcile that “me first” Aries nature and the “you first” Cancer nature, which are squared and not as ease with each other in his chart. Isn’t there a sensitive/puer/’Peter Pan’ quality of those Cancer planets that doesn’t want to grow up?



Oh, I don’t know. I’m glad you like him. But again, I have reservations. When you say he’s a spiritual man, and I see Neptune in his 9th house at the top of his chart, I can agree—but Neptune also has a saying “Don’t let reality get in your way.” And with so much of the “underworldly” Pluto in his chart—well, Isabelle, you must know what you’re doing!



Let me know what you think of all this Pluto, will you? How’s your new place? Have you heard from your daughter Sophie? Last I heard she was still in Switzerland with your ex, dear Alistair. He sounds so different from this Tomas—interesting how you are drawn to both! Alistair sounds so much more---oh, I don’t want to say---you tell me…..

Love,

Kendra

The Prediction Was Coming True

"The prediction was coming true"—of course, astrologers don’t like to call anything a prediction, but it was a prediction nevertheless. And it was worse in this case because Isabelle herself was the astrologer; the predictor. She certainly wasn’t a fortune teller, and she certainly believed that free will could overcome any karmic challenge that might arise, but it was shocking to see how her life seemed to be dissolving in front of her.



She had to admit that it was a liability of her profession to sometimes see too much. Signs and synchronicities had a way of seeping into her psyche like water slowly rising in the basement. She didn’t use the words like good or bad, but instead she believed in “fierce grace.” Anything could be turned around, and often what felt like a terrible fate could turn into grace. Sometimes the change occurred because of what we did, sometimes it was because of what we didn’t do; our patience. At this point, all she knew was that she desperately needed some of that “fierce grace.”



Isabelle had been an astrological counselor for over twenty years, and it felt good to be on the helping side of things, to be on the “knowing” side, of this profession. How easy it had been to encourage her clients in “foul weather or fair” or suggest ideas as to how to handle the moment of crisis or opportunity. But no matter how many ways she looked at her chart now, she saw only the slipping away of certainty and the call of an unknown summons –a prediction that she could not evade or barely understand.



Isabelle liked to muse on possibility and probability. But her rambling thoughts now were a liability rather than an asset. Her hands clenched and gripped the steering wheel in an effort to keep the car from careening out of control. The windshield wipers fought fast against the icy rain, as her eyes tried to adjust to the kaleidoscopic white swirls of snow coming at her. She kept her frozen foot on the accelerator at a steady 50 MPH. She was going to make it to the city before dark; she was going to make it to Newport before she lost her courage.



Courage. People would call Isabelle when they needed to summon their courage. She loved that word, because in French it meant to “take heart” and she was good at helping others do this. She believed in the power of a generous heart and a beginners mind. But before this, she had always been on the giving end of the encouragement and the receiving end of the numbers—the birth dates, times, and credit card numbers. It had been an honor to be invited into the private lives of others, and to get paid for it.




Isabelle needed to concentrate on the road now instead of a chart. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as if the car was going to go out of control at any minute. The wipers were mesmerizing as they thrashed across the windshield and the sleet had turned to snow making it all dangerously slippery. Isabelle turned off the old “Enya” CD and turned on the car radio station. Country music, static, hard rock and roll, or the oldies station playing “Desperado”. She switched it off.



Maybe she should be thinking about a plan to defuse the energies of Saturn, Pluto and Uranus instead of just reacting. These planetary energies were striking her chart and her life with such force already. Maybe she should be coming up with a real plan, but astrologers all had different ideas about the 2012 predictions that had already started. It was hitting everyone in such a unique way, and Isabelle had no solutions this time, especially for herself. The combination of these planets aspecting her chart was like an earthquake---the rumbles had begun and she was holding on—at least to the steering wheel, at least in the moment.



It was a classic story for sure, of death, reinvention and rebirth. Pluto, Saturn, and Uranus. But if astrology was about anything, it was about trusting what she had always called “Divine Right Timing” and she hoped she had it. ~ © Elizabeth Spring

Meeting Alistair. Reading A Chart for the First Time.

“The birth chart is like a conference table, and the planets circling around it are like the different parts of your Self sitting around the table. The Sun is the chairperson and represents your basic identity, the Moon reflects your emotional nature, the Ascendant is your style of “moving” in the world, and the Nodes are about your life direction and soul purpose. The aspect lines cris-crossing in the center of the chart connect all this—all these voices in our psyche—showing where the conversation is divided and aligned, where it’s tense and where it’s flowing…. ” (excerpt from book: "North Node Astrology: Rediscovering Your Life Direction and Soul Purpose")



My voice trailed off as I looked up at Alistair. I wanted to see if he understood this and if he was receiving or resisting this information. It’s not hard to see most things, as our emotions are more obviously written on our face than we’d like to think. Most people have no idea how transparent we are, nor do we want to admit that everything about us speaks to who we are—not just our clothes, or our tone of voice, but even the way we look at each other, or don’t look, and the little twitches and hand movements that reveal almost as much as the astrological chart.



I was touched by the gracious formality of Alistair’s handshake when he walked in the door. I knew he was thirty years old yet something made him look older than his years. Thick dark hair, pale white skin and near-black eyes, framed an impeccable face hinting of some purity of heart. He was a Virgo with a Pisces Moon; strong and kind, with Aries rising.


The flesh and blood reality of a client always shocks me at first, because after spending several hours analyzing their charts, I think I know them, and I don’t. Clients never seem to look as I would imagine them, and it’s humbling to be so often wrong and then to hear how courageously they’ve survived even with the most “challenging” of charts. Alistair was a survivor, and had somehow learned to thrive despite living under what the ancient astrologers used to call ‘”malefic” aspects. Of course, I never use those words, malefic or auspicious, but I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of wounding this man had survived. His chart was challenging, yet his eyes were kind.



Most of us don’t like to feel too vulnerable, and though we don’t want to admit it, I think there’s a mutual resonance that happens when we like or dislike another person or situation, it’s almost instantaneous. We want to feel more in control as we pretend to ourselves that our words, explanations, and sometimes false optimism can present things differently. Yet I could see that Alistair was not only allowing himself to have a reading, but he was willing to “let me in” as well.

“Is this your first reading?” I asked.

“It is…and what a lovely place you have here! Is that a Goddess’s face carved into that fireplace mantel?”

“It is” I answered, while motioning him to the green rocking chair, hoping he was approving of the setting for his reading. This Victorian office had high ceilings and dark wood walls where the lights could cast shadows and allow nuances of mood. The black wrought iron fireplace was carved into with the face of the Goddess, and I hoped that the numinous face would bring the spirit of the feminine into the little consulting room. Her downward looking eyes seemed to know how to keep a secret.



“So have you been doing this long? It’s my first time—you know---I don’t even come to this part of town much. But I read your book! Though I’m not much of a believer in anything….hope that’s OK, just to try—“



“Of course it’s fine! Let’s just see what we can find here that could be helpful to you.” I splayed the charts in my hand like a card deck. “I don’t predict death by execution or anything like that—but who knows what we’ll see….we’ll just read what’s here.” I pointed to the two chairs on either side of the amber stained glass lamp. It was so quiet for a moment I could hear the motions of the antique clock on the mantel, and I wondered if I had remembered to clear the dirty coffee cups off the desk. He looked instead at the bookshelf which covered one wall.


“Lovely,” he whispered, as we sat down, and I admired the pristine clarity of his English accent.



It seemed from his voice that he was a warm but skeptical sort of man, and a tired one at that. He said on the phone that he was coming to me because he liked the tiny advertisement for my services in “Newport This Week” which noted my background in psychology—specifically, the psychology of the famous Swiss psychologist Carl Jung who was noted for his work with the unconscious and synchronicity.



“You know, I can see that you take this seriously, you’re not just a—what do you call them—a ‘sun-sign’ astrologer or a sketchy fortune teller. I like that…”



I nodded, and thought: here was a gentle man who had come to yet another turning point in his life, and who simply needed a little psychic cheerleading. I knew he was a potter and shopkeeper down on the wharf. Here was someone who wanted me reaffirm for him what he already knew to be true---that his first marriage was over, and that the chance for love was still on the horizon. Of course he didn’t say that. What he did say, at the end of our session, was that he’d be back.



What he didn’t know about me was that I’m a bit of a reluctant astrologer. It’s not about believing or not believing in astrology, because astrology is a language of the soul that exists, and to say that you don’t believe in it, sometimes sounds to me like saying you don’t believe in “Spanish” or “French”—it’s a language that conveys meaning in a very particular way. I believe deeply in this language, and yet it’s like a finger that points at the moon. It doesn’t get you there. It describes the journey.



Maybe Alistair did know, but he never let on that I had hinted at that “reluctance” in my book. He didn’t let on right away everything he was feeling, nor did I…but maybe we knew.


And how surprised I was that those opportunities for love I saw in his chart that day would be directed at me—and I wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told me we would be married within six months. How shocked I would have been if someone told me the story of how sweet our love was, how lovely our daughter would be, and how difficult the marriage would be as it “raveled and unraveled” and then….but instead of me analyzing it, let me just tell you the story instead. ~ ©elizabeth spring www.elizabethspring.com

Saturn Conjunct Neptune: Tomas Re-Appears

 


Private Journal~

I look at the photo of this gate and wonder how I can possibly walk through it into the next stage of my life. I wonder how transiting Saturn conjuncting my Libra Sun, Neptune and Venus now will play itself out. Melancholy and disillusionment? Or becoming a “wise old crone”? I don’t feel that old, yet they say Saturn “ages” one….Saturn conjuncting Neptune can be illusive and deceptive, either in the birth chart or by transit. It worries me….



Mother’s funeral is over and I’m glad we had the chance to heal our relationship at the last minute—the simple grace of an “I love you” said at just the right time. But in coming back here, I lost the chance to reunite with Alistair in Switzerland. Alistair and I have now been separated five years! I feel so alone. Here was our chance to see if the stirrings we felt in our hearts could lead us back together. Here was our chance to see if our hearts could triumph over our heads…if we could forgive each other, and truly find out if our story isn’t over yet. But we didn’t get the chance; I had to come back to mother.


It’s torture to feel the chance of love igniting, and then to be cut off from that chance. Instead, I’m back here at my Newport office, at my “little study” doing readings and life is seemingly going on as usual. But it isn’t. I feel like I have lost my chance, and Alistair has chosen to stay with Sophie in Zurich rather than come here to be with me. It’s understandable—he wants to spend time with his daughter who he never sees! But I’m jealous of their time together, and so lonely. It’s hard to be betwixt and between things, because my “head and heart” is so unsettled. I’m a confused Libra for sure.



But yesterday—yesterday!!! I don’t know now if it’s better or worse, but Tomas, my old mentor-rescuer-healer-friend re-appeared---unexpected. Who is he to me?? The man who saved me during the separation from Alistair? A spiritual guide? Simply my old therapist who has become a friend?



He just showed up, after five years, without even calling. He said he was just walking by my office. But I wonder if I had been on the second floor—?—instead of having an astrology office that looks like a retail shop that anyone can just walk into—I wonder if he still would have just ‘dropped by’? Maybe. He’s an Aries, and they can be impulsive and daring. Aries is learning courage and they get lots of chances to find it….life stresses them into going beyond what they think they can do. It’s admirable really; like beginner’s mind. Some people find Aries to be somewhat arrogant, but it’s an ego-arrogance that appeals to many women. The romance novel hero. Hah! Alistair’s “arrogance” was of a completely different nature.



But….I could have fallen into Tomas’ arms when I saw him outside the door here. It’s been so many years, and it was so…..what? ---soul-satisfying, I guess. We sat together for over two hours, rocking and cogitating in the green ‘rockers’ by the window and staring at the afternoon sunlight striking the leaves on the red maple tree. He was smoking his pipe as usual (I must admit to loving the smell of black cherry) and he was wearing the same black cowboy boots he used to wear, and carrying his bag of books. I brewed us a pot of Earl Gray Tea. He told me he’s into playing Irish music now, the Irish drum and tin whistle. Seeing him felt like something was coming home again. ~ ©Elizabeth Spring www.elizabethspring.com

Jung's Alchemy of Cooking

Ah....these spices remind me of the "alchemy of cooking" and the choices I have to make as to what to include, what not to include, and the whimsy and spontaneity that goes into good cooking. But if I add too much spice it can overpower and be undigestable, and if I add too little it can be bland. Who am I cooking for? Do I dare? Do I not dare?


Today I'm thinking about the alchemy of cooking "opposite" emotions...what happens when I heat up sad with mad? Knowing and not knowing? Surrendering and striving? What happens when I've become confused in the middle of the recipe and lost the way? What happens when it feels like one is in the middle of a labyrinth and the path becomes obscured--the heart map gone, and the instructions unclear? What happens when I add mad to sad, or sad to mad, and it comes out....well, you know--not glad--!? Not good. Astrological transits pull us in opposite directions too--how do we reconcile Jupiter square or opposite Mars? Uranus square or opposite Saturn? Saturn transiting the 7th house, and you want to feel "in love?"



When I'm lost I ask for help. Today I felt really lost. Then I found this on a scrap of paper:


"Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. He who looks outside, dreams....he who looks inside, awakens." Author: Carl Jung.


Jung liked dreams. He liked them alot! He looked to them for hints, metaphors and even divination....but then he brought it all inside and allowed it to simmer and heat up, till just the right alchemy of the cooking "awakened" the vision. He honored the process of waiting and holding the tension of the opposites, till the third inspiration appears....that particular "spice" that changes the chemistry of the whole stew into something new. Something special. Who knows how long it takes? Who knows just the right blend of spices?


Today I'm going to put my cooking pot on a slow simmer and take a whiff every hour. Then give it a taste. Add a little more of this, and then a little more of that. I'm going to add a dash of Jupiter spontaneity and humor to help me get through this Saturnian time. I'm going to make it fun. And you? Want to share recipes?


That's a great idea-- I know I'll put it in my cook book, but chances are, I may forget it. Maybe you could share your idea, your vision, by cooking it for me first.


Heart...vision...awakening...give me a taste. Cook for me with love. "Love is the only ingredient that really matters."    (c)elizabeth spring  elizabethspring@aol.com

The Astrology Reading: Notes From An Astrologer's Journal. Part 2

I stared blankly at the chart. There was so much to say, yet the words didn't come. Silence is fine, I thought, she can see I'm contemplating the chart....but what was this internal sabotage happening within me? I Beginners mind. Do I know what I’m doing? This is so much harder than psychotherapy, I thought. I ought to be using my counseling degree, instead of doing this! I thought how much easier it is when the client does most of the talking. And, I reminded myself how crucial it is to get the ego out of the way so one can be a conduit for what needs to be said--but the words simply weren’t coming. Beginner’s mind, I thought…..beginner's mind. Use it.



My eyes circled Judith’s chart looking for a clue….then they landed on Venus. “Ahhh—look at Venus here! She’s not in the conversation at all! No aspect lines to her; she’s silent….except that she’s square to the Nodes. This is called ‘the skipped step’ in evolutionary astrology—any planet that squares the Nodes reflects something that has been skipped early in this life or in a previous one, and it’s a strong hint about what one must do now in order to stay true to one’s life course. ”



This felt important but I wasn’t sure where to go with just then. I made a mental note to come back to that solitary Venus. “And your Scorpio sun squares Uranus, the planet of unpredictability and change. Have you moved a lot in your life? That would be hard on Venus connections….”



“Eighteen times.” She began to talk of a life of broken relationships and innumerable new starts in different countries, with different jobs. There were so many endings and beginnings, no wonder she wasn’t eager to hear of yet another new beginning. What could I say that would make a difference?



“Venus…she wants to be brought into the conversation,” I insisted, while searching for the word to describe the spiritual aspect of Venus. Some old brain synapse came to the rescue: “Have you ever heard of ‘Sophia’? It’s a Greek word meaning wisdom. Originally she was the third person of the Holy Trinity. She was called ‘Hagia Sophia’ and she was seen as the feminine aspect of God. The Roman Catholics later changed her name to ‘Spiritus Sanctus’ and the feminine aspect of the Holy Spirit was lost. Sophia is the aspect of God that finds the sacred in the commonplace, and she expresses herself through beauty and love, and sometimes through synchronistic human connections.”



Judith leaned forward to take a closer look as I went on: “I suspect your Venus here is not being nourished for some reason. Venus doesn’t care about being right or having the best job or having the right answers philosophically…but she wants to bring beauty and relationship into your life. She needs a voice…..”I I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that my beginner’s mind had somehow retrieved that insight.



Judith’s large dark eyes began filling with tears. “Last week I went to visit one of the Newport mansions here…and as I was standing in front of this exquisite tapestry someone came over and placed a huge bouquet of lilacs in front of it. The smell was so heavenly, and I suddenly found myself upset…crying. It was so unlike me, really.”

“Why was that unlike you?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

Sounds like you were struck by beauty, by Venus” I added.

“I prefer not to be so emotional; so out of control.” She sat up straighter. “I’ve been thinking I should be more restrained and not indulge myself…my mother is a Buddhist and she lives very simply.”



I could see that I was going to have to challenge her “internalized Mother” who was represented by Judith’s Moon in Capricorn. “That may be right for her, but perhaps not for you. It sounds like Venus, or Sophia, was opening your heart with that hit of beauty you experienced with the lilacs.”



She nodded her head just slightly. “My mother always complained that I had too much stuff and clutter around me when I was young, so when I moved here I decided not to take my things out of storage and to live frugally. I thought I should keep it uncluttered. I don’t even have a window in my bedroom.”



“It sounds austere; and not a way to nourish this Venus-Sophia—it sounds like you’ve been starving yourself of simple beauty for the sake of your mother’s values; not yours…”



Judith’s eyes were close to overflowing so I handed her a Kleenex. I could see her pain, but now where could I go with this feeling and thought? We were moving beyond descriptive astrology and I wanted to give her something more tangible to help. I cared about her in a way I don’t always feel. Psychotherapists warn each other about this “transference” of feelings that can happen in a session. Jungian analysts honor these feelings, but they caution against moving away from a professional detached attitude. I’m not so good at recognizing the dangers of these feeling spaces, with my Sun conjunct the permeable and boundary-less Neptune in my chart.



Judith picked up the small celadon vase that sat on the table between us. “It’s beautiful.” She laughed softly. “So does this help? I mean having this little vase, this little bit of Venus here—does it help?”



“Good question…yes, I think it does, especially because it’s handmade and it makes me think about what I can only imagine—about the potter who made it, and how it was once clay, and how it was shaped on the potter’s wheel and went through the fire of the kiln. So many changes….and yet it’s not worse because of all its changes and imperfections.”



She lowered her eyes and was quiet again. So I just stayed in the silence with her for a moment. In fact, I didn’t know what to say at all…so I picked up the little pot again and turned it over. “Ah! The name on bottom is ‘Maya.’ Do you know that means ‘illusion’ in Sanskrit? The Hindu’s believe that this reality—even this little piece of pottery, as we know it, is an illusion or dream. They believe that what is most real is beyond appearance, and that all things have a hidden life within them. I’ve always wondered if the potter knew the meaning of the word…”



I handed Judith the vase and she began rubbing her fingers across the pale green glaze. “There’s a lot going on beneath the surface of us all. Look at all the cracks and crackles…” she added as she continued stroking the surface. Then her finger ran across a chip on the rim. “It’s chipped even.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Yet perfect.”



Just then I could feel the energy in the room change, as if a wave of ever so subtle sacred energy had descended on us. So we just sat there for a time, looking at the little vase, finally comfortable without words. At one point I found myself staring at the framed quotation on the wall next to the fireplace which reads: “Called or not called, God is present.” This saying was carved in Latin above Carl Jung’s door, and I was once so taken by what he was implying with this, that I had it printed in English, and always made a place for it in my office whenever I moved. And here it was again.



It was obvious that our session was over. As we stood to leave I leaned over and gave her a heartfelt hug and placed the little pot in her hand. She was about to refuse my gift, but I simply shook my head ‘no’ and walked to the door. As I closed the door behind Judith I thanked ‘Sophia’ for her unexpected arrival, for I too had forgotten about the power of Venus-Sophia. And as I stood in awe of the ‘little magic’ that had just happened, I remembered that when I let go and let the spirit ‘Sophia’ speak through me, she knows, far more than I do, what needs to be said and done.



I must tell Sophie about this ~ I wonder if her real name is Sophia?

The Astrology Reading: Notes From An Astrologer's Journal

The Astrology Reading: Notes from my Journal




As I opened the door of my office I was struck by Judith’s stunning presence. Thick dark hair, flawless white skin and near-black eyes, framed an impeccable face hinting of some purity of heart. I knew she was thirty-five years old yet something made her look older than her years. She wore no jewelry or make-up. Judith was coming here today for her first astrological reading, and as she extended her hand, I was impressed by the gracious formality of her handshake.



The flesh and blood reality of a client always shocks me at first because after spending a few hours analyzing their charts, I think I know them, and I don’t. Clients never seem to look as I would imagine them; and it’s humbling to be so often wrong and to see how graciously they’ve survived even with what looks to be the most challenging of charts. I try to remember that what I see in the chart is partially biased by my perception —yet the “woundedness” in the chart always seem to leap out first—the t-squares, the South Node, the oppositions, the conjunctions of certain planets. And, I’m continually surprised by how well most people thrive despite living under what the ancient astrologers called “malefic” aspects.



Of course I never use those words--- sensitive astrologers try to avoid any judgments of good, bad, malefic or auspicious. We also don’t know how a person is choosing to live out their chart, or how they’re living out the transits that are happening now. “No transits come before their time” my teacher used to say. Astrologers are aware that certain karmic factors may have been involved with us being ‘fated’ to be born with “givens” such as gender, nationality, good or bad parenting, but the “Formula” I honor is this: fate + character = destiny. The key word is character.



Fate is simply the “givens” at birth; the time and place and zeitgeist of that time—like being born a 1950’s Ford model car, doesn’t really make you better than a sixties Chevrolet. Just different. The force and choices of character however, makes all the difference. It’s about those free will choices we make along the way that determine our destiny.



Judith’s chart had a “motivating” grand cross, and I was curious about her choices and how she was living out this challenging aspect. Squares and grand-crosses like this tend to motivate people because they can be so painful, and some of the most famous “achievers” in history have had motivating charts like this.



And so I invited Judith to sit, motioning her to sit in the soft green chair, hoping she was approving of the setting for her reading. She stared at the carved Goddess face in the black wrought iron inset in the fireplace, and I hoped that the numinous face would bring the spirit of the goddess into the room. Its downward looking eyes knew how to keep a secret.



“Lovely” she whispered, as I silently admired the pristine clarity of her English accent.



The amber stained glass lamp between us shed a warm glow in the room, as I turned the recorder on for our session. I took out the charts in my usual fashion, and was eager to tell her all the good omens of new beginnings I saw there. The “significators” were all there: Jupiter had just crossed her descendant, Saturn was just leaving the 12th house, and the progressed moon would be coming to conjunct her natal Jupiter shortly. It looked like a new beginning if I ever saw one. And so I began….



“The birth chart is like a conference table, and these planets are like the different parts of your self sitting around the table. The Sun is the chairperson and represents your basic identity, the Moon reflects your emotional nature, the Ascendant has to do with your style of negotiating in the world… and the Nodes have to do with your life direction and soul purpose. See these aspect lines in the center? They connect all this—all these voices in our psyche—these planets—and show where the conversation is challenging, flowing or avoiding…they show the alliances and tensions between different parts of yourself.”



She nodded her head as I went on: “So we see your Sun is in Scorpio, an emotional water sign. There’s a curious hunger about the Scorpio nature, and they look at the hidden side of things, such as secret motivations around sex, power and money. They want to know what the emotional bottom line is….they are gifted with a penetrating intensity and the power to heal themselves and others. Scorpio has three symbols: the scorpion, which is capable of attack as well as killing itself with its tail, the eagle, which gives perspective and vision, and the phoenix which has the power to rise from the ashes of death. Scorpio folks often have had a life of many chapters, in which there are numerous ego deaths and rebirths. Being able to let go of the past is important for them….for you….”



“Oh yes,” she sighed. “I’ve had to do that many times. I’ve had a life filled with so many chapters with radical beginnings and endings. It’s exhausting.”



“And many people with their Moon in Capricorn, as you do, can have a hard time expressing all their emotions. Scorpio and Capricorn don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Sometimes they’ve had childhoods with mothers that were austere, strict, or not there in some way….not always, but we see here that the assertive planet, Mars, is in Aries squaring your Moon, so we get a hint that your mother may irritate you, and that this relationship is challenging for you…especially since Mars is coming from the 4th house of home and family of origin.” I was using the “rule of three” here—to see something reflected three times in the chart before mentioning it.



Judith quickly agreed with that observation. I explained the nature of her rising sign—her persona and style in life, and the nature of the “conversation” that was going on with her trines, squares, and oppositions. Then I began hinting at what might have been the emotional climate for her during the last two years while Saturn was transiting through her 12th house of the unconscious—what I call the “house that Carl Jung built.”



“For many people it’s a time of soul-searching and inner questioning; a time for reviewing one’s life, and listening to dreams and synchronicities. For many people it can be a lonely passage, because our culture is more outer directed. It’s a good time for inner reflection and for doing creative things such as painting, poetry, journaling, collage, music—anything that can help you see yourself reflected in what you create, or see yourself as a channel for allowing spirit to enter.”



I waited for a response, but she just looked blankly at the chart. Her Sun was conjunct Neptune, which sometimes reflects a spiritual, ethereal nature or a love of music, so I ventured---“Do you listen to music very much? Has it been a help?” It was interesting for me that I found it hard to tolerate her silence.



“Well yes. It has been a lonely time these past couple of years. I’ve been brooding over the mistakes I’ve made in my life.” She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. She was being polite, but not completely forthcoming about what was really on her mind. Obviously I hadn’t touched on it yet. I could see that she was going to be a bit private till I hit upon something that truly resonated with her. Not unusual for Scorpios to be a bit private, and very “British” as well.



I pulled my thoughts back to the charts and went on: “Saturn often drags up old memories and fears that we thought we’d put to rest a long time ago. It’s been sweeping through your unconscious, churning things up for the past couple of years….I think of transiting Saturn here as the “Graduate School of the Soul” and the good news is that you’re about to graduate! A new beginning….”



“So I’m graduating…” A slow smile began emerging. So what do you see for me spiritually? I mean….I’ve been reading all these books because I’ve been feeling so miserable, trying to meditate, but that’s not working too well. I spend a lot of time taking long walks alone…”





“Everything you’ve said is just right for Saturn going through the 12th house of the unconscious, but now it’s time to start, ever so slowly, coming out of seclusion and into the world more…! Ah…. look here, do you know what this glyph means? I pointed to the symbol of her North Node. This Node describes the direction your Soul wants to grow towards—it’s good soul medicine—and it’s in Gemini.”



She frowned. “But isn’t Gemini disorganized and superficial…and talks too much?”



I laughed and went on: “Gemini is the communicator. And every sign has a negative side that it can operate from, but Gemini is summoned to talk, or write, or teach or somehow communicate with the world. And it has an insatiable curiosity that packs more into one lifetime than most of us ever will. Gemini’s are willing to throw themself into the chaos of life to make order out of that chaos. Their openness allows them to experience such a variety of things, and it’s only from our point of view that it looks out of control at times. Gemini is called to fully experience life— in the valleys and cities and marketplaces of life, rather than in retreat on any “spiritual mountaintop”.



I could see that Judith was with me now. “With a Sagittarius South Node you may have had “blinders” on in a previous life-- if you believe in re-incarnation-- blinders that kept you focused on what you believed. Now your beliefs are getting bigger and being tested by life. You’re opening to a wider perspective. As your South Node in Sagittarius implies, you’ve seen the larger perspective on life--the view from the mountaintop, but you’ve had these blinders on too—now, you’re learning to live with the relativity of things in the everyday world. Not simple anymore.”



Silence. There was so much information in front of me on the chart I felt overwhelmed. It’s so hard, and such an art to try to synthesize the birth chart with the transiting planets and to put it all into words something that will be helpful—suddenly I felt overwhelmed and unfocused.



I stared blankly at the chart. There was so much to say, yet the words weren’t coming. Silence is fine, I thought, as she can see I’m contemplating the chart. But what was this internal sabotage happening within me? Beginners mind. Do I know what I’m doing? This is so much harder than psychotherapy, I thought. I ought to be using my counseling degree, instead of doing this. It’s so much easier when the client does most of the talking! I reminded myself how crucial it is to get the ego out of the way so one can be a conduit for what needs to be said. But the words simply weren’t coming. Beginner’s mind, I thought…..beginner’s mind.



(continued in next post )

Astrological Signs of Death

artwork: Susan Boulet

Dear Kendra~


It was good to hear from you and to hear you are well. I simply haven’t been able to write till now, but here I sit, staring at the computer screen back in my astrology “office” in Newport, R.I. I left Sophie and Alistair to come back to care for my mother in the nursing home. Her stroke was massive, and the astrology charts are blatant in their verdict. All the signs are there: the subtle and foreboding omens of a mind and body slipping away. I feel exhausted in dealing with a problem that has only one solution—death. This is the final act in a long and tortured relationship that has been bandaged, but not healed. But no matter how much one may know in one’s mind that the end is near, and try to put it all in perspective, the reality is always a shock. And I can feel my grief…



This morning when I went to the nursing home, my mother was scared and wanted to talk about dying. I told her how I had heard that dying is sometimes compared to slipping out of an old shoe that was too tight. She seemed to like that. The nurse came by with some pumpkin pie and I fed us both, spoonful by spoonful, and there was something about feeding her this way that felt healing. Then I rubbed her feet for a few moments before I left and went back to my “sanctuary.” It was hard to leave, but yet I couldn’t seem to stay longer today…



Kendra, did I ever tell you about where I work? Sometimes I think of it as a sanctuary—it’s a small room with high ceilings and dark wood walls. It has a small fireplace, two comfortable olive green chairs facing each other with a large amber stained glass light between them. There’s a Victorian writing desk on the side—it’s made from a deep grained oak and has several drawers and secret nooks. It’s called a Larkin desk, and was traditionally bought with coupons by Victorian ladies who bought enough Larkin Soap! On the desk I keep a fountain pen, a leather journal, and an ink-stained blotter that I found in Florence once. The amber lamp casts a soft glow across the writing table, and I love the spare moments when I actually use my old pen and journal. There’s a bookcase next to the desk and at least a dozen journals I’ve kept through the years.



Anyway…when I sit at the desk I look out the front window to see the old Redwood library with its enormous copper beach tree. (How appropriate or strange it is that the historic library and the astrologer’s office should be right opposite each other!) When I first opened this space I wondered if the townspeople would even allow an astrologer on this well-heeled end of Bellevue Avenue. So I found an antique pendulum clock and put it in full view from the front window, hoping that the Victorian ambience would not feel threatening. So far it has worked! And for me it has created a sacred space.



The only anachronism here is the computer, but I must have it for the astrology programs. And here is what I’m staring at: Mom is 88 years old, with transiting Saturn conjunct her natal Saturn in the 12th house, and Uranus conjunct the Moon. The transiting Uranus on her Moon is the shock of this change, this stroke. The restrictive 12th house atmosphere of the nursing home and her paralysis is echoed in the 12th house placement of Saturn….and she’s having her third Saturn Return. The Saturn metaphors of transition with solitariness seem fitting. And dying is both work and letting go…ah, not easy! Everyone has a third Saturn Return around the age of 88, if they live that long—did you know that? Not all of us live to see it or live through it, but how interesting that it’s seldom talked about.



Death is usually indicated in the chart of a person who is close to the dying person—rather than the person themselves. It often marks its presence by a strong Jupiter transit in the caregiver when it’s a matter of “When will she be released? And me?” And I see that Jupiter will be aspecting my Sun within the next couple of weeks. And with her 3rd Saturn Return happening at the same time as Uranus, the planet of sudden change, aspects her Moon, her emotions—well, this is as close to a prediction of a death as I’ve ever seen. In fact, if it doesn’t happen now, I think my faith in astrology will be severely tested…we’ll see…the question is: Can we do any more healing between us? Till later my dear~Isabelle

Astrological Symbols and the Greek Inscription on Jung's Bollingen Stone

Dear Kendra~

Knowing that I’d have to leave Sophie and Zurich the next morning, we spent a few hours wandering the old city in search of the perfect “parting” gift for me to give Sophie. What I found was a little framed photograph of the “forgotten stone” carved by Carl Jung at his private sanctuary at Bollingen. It’s full of carved astrological symbols. At first, Sophie thought it was a strange little image.



“I don’t have a cross as a talisman of the astrological mysteries,” I tried to explain, “Or a symbol of my spirituality, but this stone mandala comes pretty close. It’s called the ‘forgotten stone’ because it was left at Jung’s house by mistake, by men who were delivering supplies from a quarry nearby to his home. When they remembered the large square stone they’d left, Jung refused to let them take it, saying ‘No, it has found its way here.’ And in honor of his 75th birthday he carved into the stone….”



Sophie looked at it closely, as I continued: “You see first, it’s a mandala divided into four; the number of wholeness. In the center is a little monk holding a lantern—some call it a ‘homunculus,’ which, in ancient texts, meant ‘the little man inside the brain’. And if you look closer, you’ll see that he has the astrological sign for Mercury on his robe. It looks like a pendant he’s wearing. And this is the sign of Mercury, or Hermes, who’s the one who links the outer world to the inner world. Heaven and Earth. God and man. He’s the one who communicates. Everyone has Mercury in their own astrological someone where…doing something. And if you know what sign and aspects Mercury takes in your chart, you learn a little more about yourself.”





She looked curious. “You once told me that my Mercury was in Scorpio, and that it meant I loved delving into the hidden and invisible worlds…..interesting! What do the other astrology signs and writing mean? Sophie asked, pointing to the glyphs.



“On his right side of him you’ll see the astrological signs for the Sun and Jupiter, and on the left: Venus and the Moon. These relate to what Jung called “the alchemical sacred marriage” of the male (Sol) and female (Luna). Jupiter is grace, and Venus is love. The planets across the horizontal line—just like the horizontal line on the cross hint at a receptive grace, and the vertical axis points to human pain and striving. On the top here, is Saturn, and beneath him is Mars. These ‘yang’ signs represent the struggle to live on this earth—the resistance of Saturn and the assertiveness of Mars. Together the planets in the four quadrants tell a story….and Jung believed all “the opposites in our nature”, even of good and evil were intimately related and inseparable. He even felt God and man needed each other, in a sense, to be whole.”



Sophie reached across the table and touched my hand. I felt a little unnerved, because her gesture went so far beyond anything I had said. But she simply said: “Go on….”



“…and look here at the Greek writing around the center; the translation’s under the photo: ‘Aion (time) is a child at play, gambling; a child is of the Kingship. The man who accomplishes, the homunculus, traverses the dark places of the world, like a star flashing the deep, leading the way to the Gates of the Sun and the Land of Dreams.’”



“It reminds me of Jesus saying that we must become like little children again to enter the kingdom of heaven,” Sophie added smiling.



“I agree…truly, here’s another human on a cross, and he’s trying to communicate a great mystery….through symbols.”



“I get it…but now…don’t say anything, Mom. I’m going to do a little magic on you. I’m going to pray now…see if you can feel it.”



And I did. And I had no words for it.



And that’s what happened today, Kendra—! I’ll write tomorrow when I’m on the plane back to the States.


 Love, Isabelle~