All posts here are from sections of the books: "North Node Astrology; Rediscovering Your Life Direction and Soul Purpose" and "Lifting the Veil; Becoming Your Own Best Astrologer" and "Astrology for the Third Act of Life" and finally "Saturn Returns~The Private Papers of A Reluctant Astrologer" All available in paperback, Kindle and Audible on Amazon.com

To inquire about readings or for more articles on the North/South Nodes, go to: https://www.NorthNodeAstrology.com

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Venus Square Neptune


Venus Square Neptune


Tell me, my friend, are we not all beggars

Hungry for love, hungry for more?
Savoring our illusions, do we not
Delight in the delicious longing
of our desires…
Mistaking each other For the Source?

Though I may be a beggar
I ‘m a lover and a listener too—
Though my rhythms may be awkward
My yearning to connect
Brings me to the edge—
Where I wait—
I wait for you.

For hope is the point between us
An aphrodisiac of the Soul
When there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do
We look to where the passion lies—
And call this passion: God.

So increase this fire in my heart!
And go away—you must.
Carve out of my denseness
A hole where through
That Light can shine.

For hope is this space between us
Though some might call her faith
When ego’s pride is burned away
I’ll find your face in every face
The birth will then be mine—

So turn up the flame, my Soul’s turned in—
I’ll take no substitutes.
No false gods stand before me now
I’ve had enough of mere beliefs
To know this fire’s
In my bones.
(c) elizabeth spring Thanks to Pamela at PRRussell for her Fantasies and Earthings photo, so appopriate to this delicious spring....and appropriate too for the longing between Venus and Nepune for beauty and love. This post will end the poetry metaphor for astrological aspects for awhile...I will be moving into the Nodes in the house placements next, for those of you who have been patiently waiting! And how do you find Venus playing out with Neptune in your chart?





Monday, May 12, 2008

Venus Conjunct Pluto





Venus Conjunct Pluto

Tonight—at sunset—I went down
To the bottom of the boat.
Steel doors locking behind me
Descending into his darkness
I boarded this boat, death place of fish—
What did I hope for here?

Enclosed, trapped, dark
Nothing alive survives here—
Why must I play out these feral illusions?
This siren call—
Storm tossed and wild—
Curious—
I’d set the bait myself.
He found my note, frozen in bottom of a barrel.
Come visit, he said, and I did.

He sat me down next to the helm
Overlooking the bay,
Looming large here,
He looked hard, wounded—
A bloodied hand from too much work.
“It’s all I know” he said.

He told me how in a storm he goes slow, drifts—
Rolls with the waves, and likes it.
This I like.
Whereas I go too fast—
Too passionate, I knock myself off course
Making me homesick, seasick—
Losing myself.

Eyeing me now, he wonders why I’ve come
Some flight of fancy he thinks—
Or worse—
Some flight of desperation
I know.

“Our work is similar I say—
We set the bait and hope to catch the fish—“
I pause and smile.
“There’s a difference,” he says
“I go out and net them—
You lure them in.”
“Not true,” I lied.
He smiled through stained teeth.

The light was dimming—
A narrow pink strip of hope
Appeared along the horizon.
“Where’s Venus?” I said
Knowing she was nowhere near here.
Where were the words to hide?
How far off course I’d come….

Silence descended. He shifted in his seat
And looked full-square at me;
He spoke of how a man went down to hell
To save his woman—
“Persephone” I said, “was abducted
Into hell—“

What heroic expectations
Were getting washed out here?
And would I who had come to see—
Too curious—find myself hooked and writhing
On these dank wooden floors?

“Would you like a cookie?” he asked.
Fear.
I must get home before dark, I thought,
I must get home before dark—

(c)Elizabeth Spring

Tuesday, May 6, 2008



The Family Karmic Inheritance

“If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man’s life a sorrow and a suffering enough to disarm all hostility.” —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow



As an astrologer I am continually struck by the potential for sorrow and suffering when first reviewing a client’s chart. However upon meeting them, I am usually astounded at how uniquely they have coped, survived and even flourished in spite of the potential for anguish. How do they thrive in spite of their history? How do they forgive and let go of their past? Longfellow must have had a sense of it when he wrote that sentence, and if we change the word “enemies” in that quote to “families” then the most important point of this chapter would be made. If we could know each other’s pain, this would indeed “disarm all hostility.” I believe that the oracle that speaks through the language of astrology teaches compassion.


It has been said that the soul is ruthless in seeking its own path home, and that the needs of the soul, not the desires of the personality, orchestrate our lives. I have been finding that there is a mystery and history to each of us that reaches back beyond our present lives directly to our family lineage. We’ve inherited a karmic legacy that reflects the victories, defeats, and hard won battles of our ancestors, for they are indeed very much with us.


Within families there is a karmic inheritance that is handed down the family line along with the genetic blueprint. We inherit deeply entrenched emotional and mental perspectives, as well as unearned propensities such as musical and mathematical talents. Yet unfortunately, we know that alcoholism, depression, abuse and certain illnesses are also inherited. We gladly accept the unearned talents—such as Mozart-like propensities, but a negative family inheritance such as the Kennedy family “curse” is not pleasant thinking.


Even if we believe that our soul “picks” our family and our karmic inheritance so that we can inherit both the gifts and the challenges needed for our highest soul growth, it’s still hard to understand. Essentially the soul’s choice of when and where to incarnate is a mystery. Yet astrologers believe that the synchronistic moment of birth is the key element in the life story, because it gives us a genetic, or karmic blueprint of the soul; a map of the psyche. By looking at our family members charts, we can decipher emotional patterns that have been playing out for generations. All that we’ve learned so far about the Nodes and the planet Pluto, figures strongly in this tale.


These karmic patterns are not in themselves innate curses or blessings, for our will, intention, and grace are always operative. But anything can behave erratically if willfully suppressed for generations. Carl Jung wrote about the personal as well as the collective unconscious, saying that both talents and troubles are to be found in the subconscious. He didn’t say how the unconscious works its way through the family lineage, but he did claim that there was gold in the “shadow” of the personal and collective unconscious. I believe that we can use the astrological technique of overlapping charts, called synastry, to help us see that gold in the family inheritance, as well as the imprint of family shame and secrets. We can become conscious of what has been hidden, and become freer by stepping out of the secret matrix of familial denial. We can then make choices to express and heal rather than to conceal. We can change the pattern for the next generation.


Everyone, not just astrologers and Jungians, are aware of the unconscious nature of family dynamics and what I call “the family karmic inheritance.” Just as we might see that we’ve inherited our parents’ tall bodies and long noses, we might also see a predisposition for sudden anger or alcoholism. We might notice too that the males in the family pride themselves, and judge others by physical prowess and athletic ability. But what happens when mental illness, greed, sexual confusion, or insatiable power and control dynamics are passed along? Isn’t it then that we question ideas of fate and destiny, wondering if we were born trailing not only “clouds of glory” but “clouds of dust” as well?
Most astrologers accept the theory of reincarnation as the basis for this inheritance, whereas other people see it more as some mix of genetic and emotional DNA. Evolutionary astrologers find the theory of re-incarnation makes sense as it resonates with a sense of justice that moves beyond the karma of one life, as it echoes back to the idea that the “sins of the fathers shall be visited on the children for seven generations.” It’s a thought or theory that I never liked, but everything I knew about the Nodes seemed to fit in---at least in theory.


Actually I didn’t choose to delve into this karmic stew as much as it chose me. One Sunday morning many years ago, I awoke with a confusing depression that had been building for months. I knew my Uranus Opposition was almost exact, and that the time for something to “come to light” was upon me. I had moved across country, to California, and had made significant changes in my life. Yet I couldn’t feel the joy or freedom that is the “gift of Uranus” despite my efforts. As was usual on Sunday morning, I called my mother, and had another depressing conversation with her. She was threatening suicide again if I didn’t return East. Nothing had changed in that area of my life, even though I fought the co-dependency by moving thousands of miles away. It was a constant litany of shame and blame between us, with tears and heart wrenching reconciliations followed by more accusations of abandonment and blame. I was on the defense, and as usual, nothing I said assuaged my guilt, anger and grief.


But this morning, the grief overflowed into tears that didn’t stop. I was paralyzed; I had no psychic energy left to move me out of this mood. I glanced at my chart and saw the same line-up of planetary archetypes, the same old story. But next to my chart was a “mythic” Tarot deck I had just bought, written by one of my favorite astrologers, Liz Greene. Because astrology pulls its symbolism from myths, similar to Tarot, I had bought this as a tool to go deeper, and to amplify what I knew astrologically. Now here it was for me at my time of need. I needed an oracle, an insight, something that could bring new light to this unending situation. (It’s always hard to be objective about one’s own chart! Asking advice from other astrologers or using other similar symbolic systems can be of tremendous help when you are blocked.)


So that morning I took out the deck, pulled the Ten of Swords, and read the story about it. On a divinatory level it said that this card marks the ending of a difficult situation, and it went on to tell the story of Orestes and the curse of the House of Atreus. It is a dark tale full of conflict and bloodshed involving Athene, the three Furies, and Orestes. I remembered that Athene, as a goddess of justice, is often related to Libra, my Sun sign, and the Furies have to do with feminine fury and unrest.


I could feel a shift beginning to happen within me as I wrote down what I read: “A family curse such as Orestes has to bear is an image of inner conflicts passed down from one generation to another, where the grandparents and parents have been unable to face life’s conflicts honestly and the children must inevitably suffer until insight is gained.” It went on to say: “A deep seated and ancient problem is now forced to the surface and something must ultimately leave our lives…we can now move on not merely disillusioned, but freed of some deep canker which has its roots in a past older than ourselves, and which our own suffering has released and redeemed.”


I then went to my computer and pulled up the charts of my grandmother, my mother, my daughter, and myself—four women linked by genes and an obscure family history. I had often felt as if there was some secrecy in the family history, yet when I questioned my parents and grandparents they would speak only of their successes, or of the failings of others. The same old stories repeated; and I found that probing questions yielded little. But now I questioned the nature of this family karmic inheritance by looking at the interconnecting positions of the Nodes, the Sun, the Moon, Chiron and Pluto. What I saw in this synastry of charts was a pattern of connections that was enough to lift the morning’s depressing fog. At least now I could see—and once seeing, I could make an attitude adjustment. I could feel a mood of compassion rising.


So I pulled up my chart and had another long look at it. I knew that Pluto in the horoscope is the “Lord of the Underworld” and reflects the Law of Nature for which the Greeks had so much fear and respect. And there it was, strong and highly visible in my chart. While thinking about the mythological curse that the Tarot hinted at, I rummaged through my astrology reference books and found that a family ‘curse’ involves some violation of natural law by earlier generations. I read that one can expect Pluto to be strong in the horoscope for anyone who has the need to make peace with an inheritance from the past.
What makes Pluto strong? If you look to the chapter on Pluto you’ll see that it tends to act up when in hard aspects to the Sun or Moon or other planets, and in the watery 4th, 8th, or 12th houses. It is then that it makes a tight bond to the unconscious and the family line. Yet I didn’t have Pluto in those areas of the chart. I looked again. Pluto was the “ruling planet” of my Scorpio South Node, and Pluto squared the South Node—there it was! A powerful sign to bring to consciousness whatever was brought down the family line.


So here was the challenge. How was I to make peace with it? I pondered the charts: my grandmother, Elizabeth English, had a chart with a predominance of planets in the earth sign of Taurus and—Ah! There was the Pluto aspecting the Sun with a tight conjunction. I couldn’t tell which house it was in because I only knew her birth day, and didn’t know her time of birth. But I could see that the South Node was in Cancer, and North Node in Capricorn. I knew that she was born in 1880, and that she had been a talented artist as a young woman, and after she married she had five children and never painted again. Her husband died in his late fifties of alcoholism. With five planets in Taurus, there were issues around money, security, and values, and with Sun conjunct Pluto she would have experienced many symbolic—if not real—deaths and rebirths in her life. In fact, her mother and sister both died young from “heart problems” and when her favorite son succumbed to alcoholism as well, she retired to her room for the rest of her days. I remember that she had an inner authority and independence when she spoke, but I don’t remember anything more. She died when I was seven.


It seemed as if my grandmother, Elizabeth, never felt the serenity and security that is the touchstone for Taurus---without which Taurus folks cannot release all their gifts. The mystery of her abandoning her painting was never told to me, and her only remaining oil painting is a dark Rembrandt-like rendition of a fortune teller reading the tea leaves in a china cup to a well dressed lady at the turn of the century. The painting was done in 1903 when she was twenty-three years old, and now hangs in my astrology office. Some people see only its darkness and the sad look on the woman’s face; I however find it delightfully fascinating that my grandmother’s last painting was called “The Fortune Teller”---foreshadowing the work that her grand-daughter would do. I also saw that when I overlaid my chart on hers that my North Node was conjunct her Taurus Sun, implying that there was something about who she was (her Sun) that could be an inspiration or a suggestion for me.


When I looked at my mother’s chart and mine, I saw that her South Node, hinting of the past life story, was at the exact degree of my Libra Sun. I knew that any planet aspecting another person’s South Node is an indication that the two souls have been in relationship before in another life. Ah—yes, our enmeshment and struggles in this life felt “larger than this life” and to see that we had “danced together” in some way before was not really a surprise. In fact, it felt like a relief to see that our connections were part of a karmic dance that had it’s roots long ago in other lifetimes. I suspected then that all my work in therapy around us was more significant than I originally knew.
Then I noticed that her Capricorn Sun was within 2 degrees of her mother’s North Node. So if the North Node was a “good suggestion” for my grandmother, then something about her daughter’s life would be an inspiration for her. And indeed, my mother was able to combine motherhood with her art, and she painted up until her death at the age of 88.


I could see our wounds. There were painful issues around creativity, freedom, and ambivalent feelings about motherhood here, as well as enmeshment and co-dependence. I could see the connections though the wounded secret trail of Pluto’s pride, shame, and insecurity. I couldn’t know the secrets of my grandmother or her family or the specifics of possible abuse. But what I could see was my grandmother’s Sun touching Pluto and her afflicted Moon. Her artistic freedom was severely curtailed by raising children, like most of the women of her generation. My mother’s confusing demands for both independence and connection reflected her own Aries/Libra Nodes as she worked out the last of that struggle with me, her only child. By virtue of simply living a long life, beyond my father’s time, she struggled painfully to reach the independence of her North Node Aries. I have found this easier in my life, as I struggle to combine my art, my writing, and being a mother as well.


I then pulled up my daughter’s chart, and saw more correspondences and overlapping. It’s not hard for anyone to bring up family charts and to look at the connections between them, yet delving into this kind of astrological analysis, this “synastry,” is best done with an astrologer who is familiar with the technique. But even a glance at these intertwining aspects tends to open understanding and empathy. In all the charts, the aspects between Pluto, the Nodes, and Venus hinted of an inherited struggle with creativity and relationship. It all echoed back to Elizabeth English who fought with the competing demands of art and children, and seemed to lose. I would never know the secrets of her heart, or what pain she may have passed on to my mother, but my heart was beginning to open.


In a much more radical fashion, we can look at other charts, such as our country’s royal family the “presidential Kennedy’s” and see their history of assassinations and signs not only of great gifts but also of a family “curse.” In 1969 when Senator Edward Kennedy saw the collapse of his Presidential hopes after Chappaquiddick, it was said that he actually asked whether there was a curse on his family. And indeed, if one examines this family there are elements in the family story that suggest this possibility, though a good astrologer would never call it that.


Call it what you may, what happens with the challenges that are unconsciously inherited down the family line? Sometimes a bad seed develops, as rage and alcoholism can insidiously move down through the family genetics. Some children, such as serial killer Charles Bundy, showed signs of this when he encircled his sister with knives as she slept, showing the peculiar signs of rage at the age of three. What’s happening here?


At heart I believe we are up against a mystery, because in each life the soul has free will and can play out genetic or karmic tendencies so many ways. We may be able to see the footprints of something in a chart, but astrologer’s move into shadowy hubris when they dare prescribe “how it will be.” Free will and consciousness gives us a great chance to change patterns. We don’t have to pass these secrets and silences down to our children. Instead the “buck can stop with us” as we heal the pain of our own legacy. We don’t have to perpetrate silent crimes.


Instead we can look at the heart of astrology—the myths that the planets are named after, and we can find clues. There are certain features which appear in every myth about a family curse, and it usually begins with an individual’s abuse of a God-given talent or advantage. Something positive gets misused or distorted through arrogance and pride, what the Greeks call hubris. The abuse of creative potential, which is sometimes linked with a subtle or not so subtle abuse of children, is made worse by the denial and hubris carried on within members of the family. In generations past, we hid our shame within our families. Today we think all is out in the open because it is the stuff of soap operas and reality shows and the evening news. But shame and lack of courage runs deep.


In mythology, we see that although each generation and each person could expiate the negative family inheritance, or “curse” by accepting a certain degree of limitation in their life they don’t--- and this refusal to make what is unconscious conscious, and to make the necessary sacrifices needed, can be seen as an act of putting personal desires before the needs of the soul. The soul’s needs are ruthless, and require a transformation of consciousness to change the family legacy.


Anything consistent in our lives and which shows up in the chart, can behave like a curse. Because we have free will, our behavior can change it, although old attitudes with very entrenched roots are harder to change. In the case of the Kennedy’s, one could speculate that the arrogance, ambition, and possible abuses of “Papa” Joe Kennedy (including his choice to have a lobotomy done on his first daughter) exacerbated a karmic situation that had its roots in the history and sufferings of the Irish people. Perhaps it’s a long shot to think that way; perhaps not. But if one looks at he collective struggle of Irish against English, Catholic against Protestant, and the tragedy of the famine which drove so many of our grandparents out of Ireland we can see how this could have fueled his ambition. He may have groomed his children for political power in order to redeem, in his mind, the shame and tragedies the Irish have had to endure in the last few centuries. The flaw of his daughter would have caused him great shame, and he took powerful action to correct it.


Could this powerful man have set in motion a set of inherited attitudes that produced both great goodness and unforeseen tragedy? Was his ambition and the shocking deaths of his sons a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of our country and the Irish? Perhaps. Were John Kennedy’s (and Bill Clinton’s) sexual transgressions an act of hubris? When John Kennedy Jr died in his night flight through the fog, was he acting like the mythical Icarus when he dared to fly on a foggy night? There was a judgment he made that night that failed. Could he have avoided this by observing the limitations of flight or the cautionary limitations of the exact transiting Pluto square which he was in? An astrologer might have cautioned him from any daring acts, and called his attention to his North Node in Virgo, which demands attention to details, yet…. perhaps all this is just speculation and hypothesis, but this is what astrologers do.
The opportunity to heal the pride, shame, and painful family legacy is a challenge, and the opportunity to act on the unlived gifts of our family legacy is a gift. We do it by bringing the issues to consciousness. Not to blame, but to bring to light the repressed painful attitudes, and to bring compassion to our past. What a unique chance it is to redeem what was once lost through ignorance, lack of courage, arrogance, or willful unconsciousness. Especially at each major life passage, such as the Uranus Oppositon and the Saturn Returns we get a chance again to ponder our karmic inheritance and to bring forth all that is longing to be expressed through us.


On that particular Sunday morning, during my Uranus Opposition at the age of forty, I began to look at my maternal inheritance differently. The painful legacy of expectations and attitudes that my mother inherited from her mother was not quite a “curse” although her desperate expectations sometimes felt that way. I could see again my inherited gifts: the artistic ability and a feisty blend of persistence and tenacity. But now I had a choice. I could see what I would accept in this inheritance and what I would attempt to heal or to reject.
The simple act of seeing the reflection of pain and grace moving through the charts lifted the depressive fog. I could see that I was not alone in my struggle to free myself, but that these women had struggled too, in their time and in their unique way. The mythology behind the planetary configurations enlarged my sense of self, and it was comforting to see how the orbs of my personal mythology touched the collective mythology. My unconscious wound was really no different than Orestes’ wound or the Kennedy family’s wound. Until that morning, I had been bound in my family’s karmic web until I began to lovingly separate and untangle the knots. I could now choose what I wanted to inherit.
Perhaps I should have known that moving across the country was not going to improve my difficult family inheritance. External solutions to internal problems are the line of least resistance. It took a lot of effort to move, but Uranus, unlike Saturn, is not about “efforting.” Instead, grace comes like a sudden storm— in its own time. When I consulted with “the gods” that morning, I felt a sense of awe and a lightening of my spirit. I didn’t know any more of the family secrets, but I knew there was not only a “blood line” but a karmic bond made of similar patterns along this family line. I felt we were of “one skin.” It was a compassionate epiphany, and it was then that I changed my first name from Janet to Elizabeth.


By looking at such family patterns one can almost hear the ancestor’s whispering: “This was my hope and fear for myself and my children; I tried to do my best.” And one gets a sense that the soul’s choices (the Nodes) are not always that of the conscious ego (the Sun.) The connection between soul and ego always has this mystery, this uncharted territory, leaving room for free will. Misfortune and sorrow is often the soul’s last resort in moving a person closer to the right path for them. And who is to say what is truly misfortune? The soul’s path is not easy to describe, and rarely simple to resolve. But we try.


Elizabeth Spring Elizabethspring@aol.com




“You Can Make Astrology Prove Anything…”

“You can make astrology prove anything,” she said to me with a malicious little grin. “It’s like the Bible—just pick the right verse and chapter, and you can make a case for God’s approval or disapproval on almost anything—astrology included.” My friend had been studying astrology just long enough to get both confused and excited, and I could feel the tense undertones of emotion mixed in with the pleasantries of our after dinner conversation. “Look at the choices,” she went on, “mid-points, solar arcs, transits, fixed Stars, secondary and tertiary progressions—just pick a time and you can back up anything you want to say with some aspect.” She had a point there, but she was missing the larger picture of how astrologers work with the increasingly growing tool-box of choices we have at our disposal. And beyond that, she was missing something even harder to explain. But I wanted to try.

I understood her complaint: Vedic, Sidereal, Placidus, Koch….evolutionary, medieval, psychological …..is it really all ‘under one sky’? And if so, how are we to know what works best? A skeptic, or a student like my friend, can look at all that and say that astrologers can pick and choose a system, a star, a progression, a transit, or whatever---to prove any point. It’s uncomfortable to hear that, because at certain times I think it has been done and it certainly reflects the ‘shadow quality’ of our work. However, most of us pick a system, and then prioritize our methods within a system into something that’s perhaps not quite a science, but at least has an integrity to it. I explained to my friend that just because one person primarily uses asteroids and relies on lunation cycles and another relies heavily on progressions and the outer planet transits, does not make either one of them wrong or better. I suggested that the ideal is to be able to see a theme repeated several times in different ways before making a case to substantiate a point. What I felt was important was to hold to the integrity and prioritizing within a given system, and then, according to our familiarity with these other “language systems” to check it out with them too. That way one could see what was congruent and what was paradoxical. But I reminded her that not only are systems, orbs, and aspects not perfect “black and white” paradigms, but that people are often profoundly paradoxical, and constantly in the process of changing as well! She could understand this. What I couldn’t find words to explain then, was how a blind analysis of a chart or a period of time is much more problematic than a good astrology consultation. And that what underlies a good consultation often has much less to do with the mechanics of choosing a technique than something most astrologers use almost unconsciously, and is perhaps the one commonality that all good astrologers have in common….but first let’s delve a bit more into the problem.

As astrologers, we quickly learn that there is an almost overwhelming smorgasbord of choices to make. Many of us fall back on the choices of our favorite teachers, and look to what the newest software programs or books are suggesting, or go to a conference and hear someone—who’s quite convincing and charismatic-- suggesting a particular way to view the newest or oldest menu of astrological techniques. This is not to say that we shouldn’t sample widely from the array of wonderful choices to find what works best for us and to find what we feel will nourish our clients---but underlying all this is the shadow of the unspoken fear--- is there a better way or a more accurate choice? How do I know if I’m giving my client the best—the highest truth? These thoughts are very uncomfortable, and most of us confront that nagging uncertainty by being certified within a certain tradition, or we proclaim to offer an eclectic approach depending on the circumstance and client. We find a position and hold to it. All this is fine; and it is what we must do.

As a counseling astrologer, I have a Master’s degree in counseling psychology with an emphasis in the work of Carl Jung. I’ve had teachers who used the tropical Placidus house system, and who viewed the planets as mythological archetypes within a spiritual mandala, and who saw the transits and progressions as challenging turning points along the process of individuation. I liked seeing how the astrological elements related to the Jungian modes of sensing, thinking, intuiting, and feeling. And so today I take comfort in the correspondences that align just close enough for my purposes, and that this particular brand of astrology fits ‘just enough’ into a larger context of a well respected system. So, when I’m asked: Is astrology based on science, or synchronicity? I launch into Jung’s theory of synchronicity, and I’m off and running. Yet I’m still uncomfortable with variations of the “shadow question” such as—if the precession of the equinox’s is true, then isn’t Vedic more accurate in the predictive sense? And if the asteroids are archetypes why not use them? And how can I justify my use of orbs and aspects?

What about this huge tool-kit of resources we astrologers are privileged to use today? I like to think that just as a carpenter will have his or her own reasons for using a particular tool for a given situation, we too need to have many tools for different people, different cultures, and different questions. We might want to say, unlike using an authoritative text such as the Bible, that astrologers have to intuitively choose which technique to use to draw forth a response---and that what is more important is that we should be trying less to prove a point than to inquire into the client’s truth.

My bias is that my best “readings” are not the ones in which I rely heavily on prediction, but when the metaphors I use allow the client to see deeply into their life. I know this is happening when they start talking more than me, and when they start looking at the question behind the question that they presented initially. And isn’t the point to put the technique secondary to the quality of the moment?

So what I’d like to offer is this---when we are presenting a symbolic system and the client is presenting their particular life issues---then, isn’t the answer to be found in that “sacred temenos” where we engage with the client in a way that reflects back to them what they are presenting to us? Does it matter what astrological language we use? Perhaps it’s not only the tropical Placidus evolutionary ‘way’ or the Vedic ‘way’ as much as it is the quality of the dialogue between two people in which the symbols and metaphors remind the client of what he or she already knows to be true. And if we ultimately want to empower our client to make the wisest choices possible given the situation---what’s the one thing we need to give this client in our brief time together? Is it the proficiency and uniqueness of our calculations or how we arrive at our speculations? I don’t think so.

I’d like to purpose that the most valuable thing we can give our client is silence. It may only be a few moments here or there during the reading, but if we have given them, by whatever techniques used, a clear mirroring of their situation and an overview of the astrological ‘weather-forecast’---then we need to give them a moment in which to let their inner oracle speak. One could make a case that most of the people who come for readings already know ‘the answer’ but primarily want reassurance, and even for those who think they don’t know, we still owe it to them to stop talking and listen to hear what they are understanding. Ask them what they have seen or heard. Give them a chance to answer their questions. In the few cases when the client cannot think symbolically or follow the line of thought, I’ve sometimes said: “If this was my chart, I might think…”and then paraphrase, pause, and say—“”what do you think of that? And then listen to hear if they understood the gist of symbolism and the challenge of their freedom of choice.

Silence! A new technique…subtle and profound. In every consulting hour, I suspect that no matter what techniques are used, the hope is that through clear translating and mirroring of the astrological symbolism with the human situation, there will be a synchronistic moment of “ah-hah” when there’s been an accurate mirroring of that which is above, to that which is below. Isn’t that what we long for---when some piece of the client’s truth and the astrologer’s technique rise up to a little epiphany together! Ahh…. then there is that felt moment of meaningfulness that makes all considerations of proof of technique secondary. And so I offer you the idea that the technique that brings this about is already embedded in most systems---the idea of moments of silence. Perhaps that is our only safeguard in truth-seeking; not forcing our predictions or symbolism or bias on our client, but honoring instead the idea that we are acting as psychopomps; instruments of the Divine. We can play whatever instrument(s) we want to seduce their Soul-wisdom forth, and present to them whatever delectable "astro-dish" we think will be most nourishing, but then, let’s give them a moment of silence--- to swallow, to digest, and to truly look at their chart. I believe they will take what they need when we make it simple, clear, and in a language they understand. And in that moment of silence we give a chance for the Spirit to enter; for what the Jungians call the numinous moment--- when our client looks at their own chart and sees their own answers projected there---upon the clear sky of the heavens above and their gods within.

(c)Elizabeth Spring elizabethspring@aol.com http://www.elizabethspring.com/

Elizabeth Spring, MA has a degree in counseling psychology with an emphasis in the work of Carl Jung. She has been a student of astrology since 1969 and has been doing astrological counseling and readings since 1992. Elizabeth gives workshops at the Boston Jung Institute, as well as writing many articles that can be read on her website: http://www.elizabethspring.com/ Her full bio, teaching/speaking engagements, and previous publications are there as well.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Your Partner's Transits; Synastry in Motion


Your Partner’s Transits

So you had an updated reading from your favorite astrologer, and you were pleased. You saw where you needed to focus your energy now, gained a few insights, and “the astrological weather forecast” looked good, especially this month. Then what’s the problem? Why are sitting there feeling so out of sorts? Why are you feeling so moody, so uncharacteristically angry, sad, overwhelmed or ---whatever! You fill in the blanks.

Consider this. You live with another person—your mate, your child, your roommate, your mother. You share a living space, but you may be sharing far more than you realize. It’s one thing to be considerate of each other’s moods, but have you thought about how your “partner’s” astrological transits are affecting you?

An interesting thing happens in relationships. And it happens in all relationships where people are closely interacting with each other---you not only pick up on the unexpressed mood of the other person, but you may be compensating for it as well.

“Compensation” is essentially what happens when two people are experiencing something together, and only one person expresses the mood of the moment. The other person compensates in a way that they feel comfortable with—for example, if you and your partner are in a restaurant and your server is painfully slow and un-attentive, one of you is likely to voice an opinion on it. The quiet person now has the choice of how to react or how to compensate for the emotions that have been stirred up. And what is interesting here is that because the frustration has been expressed already, the other person often tries to balance or compensate the situation by what they choose to say---and they have considerable freedom here because the pressure of the uncomfortable irritability has already been expressed.

Often what happens is that the less irritated person tries to make the situation better in some way. This person—let’s say it’s you---may be resisting those irritating emotions within yourself. You both have experienced it, but by being nice and suppressing your annoyance, your partner’s annoyance may intensify. Or you may choose to vent along with your partner, feeling even more fueled in your aggravation that before.

There’s a dynamic happening here that also happens astrologically and more subtly. Simply put, your partner’s aspects have a powerful effect on you because you two are acting and reacting together, in tandem, and you may be compensating and confused about the source of your feelings. The source, oddly enough, may not be arising from within you, but from your compensating reactions to the intensity/irritability/mood of your partner.

For example, my husband is now having Uranus in the 12th house opposing his Virgo Sun in the 6th house. This is not a short transit and it has many expressions of varying intensities at different times. What I am aware of, or surprised at, is simply that I’ve noticed a certain need for intimacy and closeness within me, as he seems to be retreating into his “cave” and into his various flights of freedom. I’ve also felt a certain Uranian anxiety and excitement at times, as well as a desire to break free and “do something different.” Now this is his transit, his experience, not mine. However, when he almost unconsciously responds to it—especially with Uranus traveling through the area of his chart that rules the unconscious, I pick up on the energy and respond or compensate for it. At times I’ll feel anxious about the undertow of his “pulling away” from me, and his movement towards a more Uranian freedom that he expresses very subtly. It’s not that I have such a huge urge to merge, but I’m compensating for the unspoken “unsettledness” and cool objectivity I feel emanating from him. It’s not that what I’m feeling or doing is wrong, it’s just fascinating that my astrological aspects are not addressing this!

It makes perfect sense. Two peas in a pod; one changes and the other reacts. One person has a strong transit and the other reacts both to what is said and what is not said. So….a word to the wise; look at your partner’s transits as well as your own and bring a little extra consciousness into your reactions. We can choose to practice better communication, and we can choose how to compensate for whatever mood is brought into the room by our partner. But let’s take a look at their transits and progressions, as well as our own, from time to time. If we are good astrologers, we know how deep the interconnections are, and how permeable the spaces are between us.

© Elizabeth Spring April, 2008 (If you are interested in your partner’s transits and progressions, then consider having a chart comparison done---one that would include both a synastry chart reading of your birth charts, as well as a look at the transits that are effecting you both in different ways now. Check out home website for details: http://www.elizabethspring.com/

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Uranus Transits


Uranus Transits

The Constant Invitation of Uranus Transits

“We are constantly invited to be who we are….”
R.W. Emerson


'When I'm sixty-three'…or twenty-one, forty-two, sixty-three or eighty-four years old, something rather magical happens---or can happen. Uranus transits happen to everyone at approximately these ages and we play them out 'well' when we savor the epiphanies and opportunities rather than trying to maintain the status quo. It may feel like we're falling or coming apart, but Uranus aspects are truly opportunities to 'soar' rather than dive. These are the years of radical new beginnings that give us the chance to become more of who we really are. Henry David Thoreau once noted: "We are constantly invited to be who we are." Uranus transits are the constant invitation.

Whether you're falling down, waking up or dancing to your own drumbeat, there are times when you may wonder—isn't there a different way to do this? 'Diving gracefully' is always a good option if you are falling, but there are times when if you want to soar you're going to have to break the rules. These periods of Uranian liberation call for you to challenge the status quo---but how do you know when you should 'color outside the lines' and when you should respect 'the lines' that others have made?

Although it's a bit simplistic, we could say that we respect the limits during Saturn transits and break the limits during Uranus transits. Look to see what area of your life—what house-- Uranus falls in on your natal chart. This is where you have divine dispensation to break the rules! One might even say that you are not only given permission to do things differently in this area of your life, but that you must do things differently and authentically here—you are called-- in this area of your life-- to be radically honest and a little more daring than ordinary.

For example, if you have Uranus in the Fourth house there is a subtle divine imperative that you rebel against your family of origin in some way. You don't have to do it dis-respectively and you don't have to stop loving and communicating with them. However, you are called to break the rules of the family myth here—as the family myth may sound like this: 'Isn't it funny how all the men on this side of the family are bi-polar?' Or 'Isn't it funny how all the women of this family marry abusive men?’ With Uranus in the fourth house you probably have heard some variation of a 'not-so-funny’ theme like this handed down the family line and you're going to need to make a conscious effort to break this family legacy.

For you to survive spiritually there are times when you need to learn to stand up to authorities and separate yourself from what has been culturally ingrained in you. You may think you are already aware of these influences and that you did the work of rebelling against these cultural imperatives when you were 21 ---or before. Yet it may have taken you to the Uranus opposition at the age of 42 to realize how deeply you were programmed to be a certain way. Maybe it took that long for you to divorce the wrong person you married, and to reclaim your Soul. Uranian times call for you to challenge yourself and rebel against your own assumptions about what’s right for you.

Radical acts of reclaiming ourselves and daring to break the rules can happen at any age and are specific to you alone. However, it's almost as if the Universe gives you a chance for enlightenment or liberation at those ages when Uranus metaphorically 'turns the lights on and off' in your life. What was going on for you at the Uranus waxing square at 21? The opposition at 42? What could happen at the waning square at 63 and the return at 84?

At 21 years our culture says we are now an adult, but in fact, most of us have been in school or in less-than-empowering positions for most of this time. Our parents and the culture have exerted pressure, overtly and covertly, to mold us into something. Now we have the first chance to say---"but this is now my time and I want to find out who I really am." So we summon our courage—often with the help of our peers and abundant sources of alcohol—to dare to move out on our own into whatever may await us. But it's usually not till we're close to thirty, and have the first responsibilities of true adulthood—at the first Saturn Return, that we commit to a deeper level of our truth and make major and usually sobering ‘Saturnian’ life-style changes. But that's only part of the story.

In the process of living our adult lives, parts of us never get a chance to be expressed. In order to raise the family and/or pursue the career, we live our lives with parts of our essential nature sacrificed. We tell ourselves that some day we will take up singing/painting/writing again, but at the moment we have to handle 2 kids or 2 jobs and we have to make enough money to pay for the cell phones as well. But when we approach 40, the awareness comes to us that we're at mid-life and we're closer to our death than our birth---and by 42-ish the lights have been blinking on and off just enough to remind us that if we're going to do 'it' we better start now or we may never do it at all. So we have the first classic mid-life epiphany of waking up to the preciousness of time. Many people will marry, divorce, move across country, or take up ‘guitar playing’ at this time.

We may be shocked by how liberated we finally feel when we act on what appears to be impulse at the Uranus opposition. But that impulse has had years of pressure building up behind it. And yet if we should miss this chance, we get another chance for living our deepest truth at the waning square of Uranus at age 63. We may have thought that the time for new beginnings has ended. Not so!

It's worth taking a moment to think of what makes 'an elder' an interesting and vital person. What gives charisma to an older man or woman? Could it be that they don't care so much about what other people think about them any more? This Uranian attitude is one part simple acceptance of themselves and others, and one part 'detached wildness.' This quality of wildness looks more like a wide smile and a quick laugh than a purple hat with a red feather.

At each of these Uranus cycles—at 21 and 42 and 63 and 84 we get a new chance to answer the voice within us that calls for more unique individuality. Even at 84 when Uranus returns to its birth position, there’s a part of us that opens up to ways of seeing things differently. Personal epiphanies abound at age 84 and people often notice a renewed sense of well-being and a feeling like a ‘breath of fresh air has come into their lives’. Some people, such as Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell ‘completed’ their lives at this time.

The closeness of death itself stimulates us to recover our core individuality. You are being called at these Uranian ages to allow a radical honesty to arise within you---and to take up the 'yoga of doubt and questioning' and turn questioning into 'questing'. Being true to yourself requires courage, but life helps us as we approach these 'Uranian times.' You don't have to know all the answers and figure it all out yourself. These are the times when you can expect help from the Universe by the occurrence of unexpected events--- unusual feelings, new opportunities, and paradoxical situations. Not all will be pleasant, but the effect will be to move you to the next stage of your life journey.

Uranian transits are times to answer inner restlessness with a 'Yes'! Try something liberating and freeing---make a little noise; cause a little havoc, give up trying to be too self-sacrificing. (If a child is always 'too good' don't you become suspicious? What is being repressed? Why are they saying they're bored?) At these ages you have a ‘divine dispensation’ to break the rules-- so ask yourself: how have I allowed life to dampen my energy? What's inhibited me? What still resonates and stimulates me when I think of it?

Einstein once said: 'God doesn't play dice with the universe.' I don't think God plays dice with us either, and no event is without the potential for using it for creative liberation. The writer George Eliot wrote: 'It is never too late to be what you might have been.' Experiment with that idea, and let your mantra be: ‘Let's do something different.’ And if you should fall or fail then 'point your hands in the direction you are going, and dive gracefully. At the very least, you may inspire someone watching you.' But chances are, you'll soar.

Elizabeth Spring © April 2008
www.elizabethspring.com
Elizabethspring@aol.com 401-294-5863

Elizabeth Spring MA is an astrologer and psychotherapist working in Wickford and Newport, RI. She has a degree in Counseling Psychology with an emphasis in the work of Carl Jung, and teaches astrology workshops at the Boston Jung Institute. She has written many articles for newspapers and magazines which can be read on-line on her website at www.elizabethspring.com Elizabeth’s bio, teaching, and speaking schedule can be found on her website as well. This article originally appeared in the ezine: Star-IQ in April, 2007.






Friday, April 18, 2008

Archetypal Astrology


Archetypal Astrology


Archetypal astrology is another name for Jungian astrology, a “creature” that Carl Jung never invented, but a name that astrologers like myself use to describe the way we work with the symbolic language of astrology. Archetypal astrology is a movement away from quick predictive astrological answers and a continual calling to track the movement of the Soul through time. It’s a blend of the best of both worlds, and an attempt to move away from the worst of each.

By honoring the planetary symbols we honor the gods and goddesses within us, and we can call these parts of our inner psyche by whatever name we choose—planet or mythological symbol—but we’re still following the same gods home. Astrology’s foundation is in mythology and psychological observation, and Jungian psychology is grounded in symbolic mythological thinking. The conflict or difference between the two appears to be mostly a matter of language, style and respectability.

Astrology has had a bad reputation throughout history because of its connection with fortune telling, and it is because of this taboo quality that most Jungians have chosen to focus on astrology’s sister: alchemy. Although alchemy is rooted in astrological thinking, it doesn’t carry the taboo and therefore can be presented in more respectable circles. Jung was warned by his colleagues to not venture forth into the world of astrology and mysticism or he would risk his credibility. So he astutely chose to examine the symbolism of the unconscious through the avenues of dreams, myths, and alchemy.

Archetypal astrologers, evolutionary astrologers, and Jungian astrologers are all delving deeply into the inner world of archetypal symbolic images…to the Soul. This is the language we all use no matter what we call ourselves. There are many paths to the Soul and to self-knowledge, and the simple advantage of astrology is the speed at which we can learn about ourselves---if we are open to hearing. That’s the catch. Astrology can open insightful doors quickly but most of us are not able to hear. Jungians would say that we have this “resistance” to hearing as an egoic self-defense, and theories abound about the rightness of this resistance. That’s probably why most astrologers have a certain blindness about their own charts….we can see our client’s complexes and t-squares but not our own. Well, granted we do see them, but how much do we really allow ourselves to know about our own shadow qualities? It’s not an easy quick process.

The combination of astrological insight and the slower process of Jungian counseling together allows for one to open up to insights at the right time and in a context of the safe “container” of the therapeutic relationship. Astrology may be too quick, and Jungians may be too slow (they can hold their client’s hearts forever!) but the combination of the two—what is called archetypal astrology—might just be the very best form of counseling and soul work. ~elizabeth spring

Interested in archetypal counseling? Inquire: elizabethspring@aol.com or browse: www.elizabethspring.com

Friday, April 11, 2008

Jung and Astrology


"Astrology represents the summation of all the psychological knowledge of antiquity." C. G. Jung

We often believe our true Self is housed in our personal myth; in the story of our lives. I think that's a mistake. I believe we're larger than that, and Carl Jung believed that too. He delved into the personal and collective unconscious and found that we are richer and deeper than we know. He understood that we are not as small as our life stories might imply, and yet I'd also add that we are "never quite as real or large as advertised."
Jung believed that we get to know ourselves, and our Souls, through rediscovery and reconnection with the archetypal world, and that we interact with this world through symbols. According to Jung, our Soul speaks to us in this language of images through dreams and through archetypal symbols. Astrological planets are archetypal symbols, and our birth charts are a unique “map of our Soul” that can illuminate the relationship between our conscious and unconscious mind.

By understanding the symbols in our unconscious through dreams--or through understanding our planetary archetypes in our birthchart--- we can take steps to break free of our more compulsive, repetitive, or “default” patterns of behavior. Astrologers believe that individual unconscious patterns are left as an “imprint” that can be read on the birth chart—as Jung said: “The individual disposition is already a factor in childhood; it is innate, and not acquired in the course of a life.”

When we think of Carl Jung today, we often think of him as representing the archetype of the “wise elder man.” He points us in certain directions---as if to say: “Look to the mandala, look to alchemy, look to your dreams, look to the images in your unconscious and in the collective unconscious, look to astrology.”
Like a good father or wise man, he points us in directions that are helpful, but he doesn't dogmatize or preach. He was an imperfect man too, who was a product of his time and culture, yet he was wise enough to say: “Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.” (From: On the Psychology of the Unconscious)

Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud were psychiatrists and theorists who were ambitious men. Freud counseled Jung not to delve into the astrological world view as it could destroy his reputation as a reputable and scientific scholar. (Ira Progoff in America also warned Jung in a letter that Americans would not take him seriously if he delved into the taboo astrological world. And although Jung was not one to be told what to do, we could speculate that he might have chosen to focus more on astrology’s younger sister, “alchemy” in order not to be tarnished by astrology’s bad reputation at the time as a fortune telling craft.) Jung and Freud eventually parted ways because of their many differences in opinions.

So did Jung believe in astrology and use it? The answer is yes, as we see here in Jung’s own words from a letter that he wrote to the Hindu astrologer, B.V. Raman on the 6th of September of 1947. Jung wrote:

"Since you want to know my opinion about astrology I can tell you that I've been interested in this particular activity of the human mind since more than 30 years. As I am a psychologist, I am chiefly interested in the particular light the horoscope sheds on certain complications in the character. In cases of difficult psychological diagnosis I usually get a horoscope in order to have a further point of view from an entirely different angle. I must say that I very often found that the astrological data elucidated certain points which I otherwise would have been unable to understand. From such experiences I formed the opinion that astrology is of particular interest to the psychologist, since it contains a sort of psychological experience which we call 'projected' - this means that we find the psychological facts as it were in the constellations."

The kind of astrology I practice is archetypal and evolutionary. I believe Jungian psychology is a rich foundation upon which to draw inspiration and knowledge, and Jung himself was a powerful yet invisible mentor in my life. I also draw from the “evolutionary” school of astrology with my background in Theosophy and as an apprentice to Steven Forrest’s School of Evolutionary Astrology. This evolutionary overlay on the Jungian base allows me to look at the possibilities of reincarnation and karma, and to construct a parable or myth about the past life lessons and experiences as shown on the birth chart now.

Because the re-incarnational parable is not fact-based but instead is a largely unconscious emotional memory, I look to the nature and arrangement of the planetary archetypes to detect what the Soul in this life is trying to learn and experience. Usually, we repeat the same karmic patterns until we become conscious of these invisible energy patterns and choose to not to repeat them.
I believe that our life direction and soul purpose is to “heal oneself” and that we do this by “knowing” and “remembering” our Self on a very deep level. This is the work of a lifetime, and I do not believe we are fated to endlessly repeat old patterns, nor are we bound by any predestined hand of God. But we do come into this life with the mixture of past life karma, free will, and the spiritual curiosity to experience both joy and love, struggle and pain. It’s a mixed blessing for sure. ~ Elizabeth Spring © 2008 Curious for more info? Check my website: www.elizabethspring.com

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Existential Astrology (Part Four)


So where does Existentialism fit in with astrology? Existentialism focuses on the process of becoming an authentic human being in a world that appears to be devoid of a benevolent God. It offers us a place to stand that doesn’t throw us into a place of philosophic despair, but instead tenderly holds our humanity and proselytizes courage instead of dogma. And in some ways, I see it as a precursor to astrological thinking.

If we see existentialism as an unsettling inquiry into the nature of life, and if we see it like many others have, as a sense of disillusionment and philosophic “dread,” then we might also see it as a beneficial stage in acquiring sound astrological thinking. In the past it has been seen as a dark night of the soul time, or a “morning sickness” or as Jean Paul Sartre said, nausea” in response to the inauthentic life of mainstream culture. I would venture to add that it feels like the place in our philosophic journey where we question our life and don’t try to insert easy solutions. We wait, we try to live authentically, and we work at becoming a person of integrity.

Existentialism can also be seen as a stage in the process of spiritual evolution if we see it as a reaction to the fantasy of ungrounded beliefs, hyped-up nationalism or pre-packaged religions. It can even perhaps be seen as a stage, like pregnancy, that is preparing for something greater. I see it as a philosophic stance between the naïve acceptance of unquestioned religion and the acceptance of the mystery of spiritual gnosis, or knowledge based on experience. This “existential” way of seeing and being seems to come before any openness to a “greater mystery” which could be described as the perennial philosophy that lies at the heart of every religion.

The willingness to be open to an experience of the “numinous” ---which could be understood as a sense of the holy or the presence of Spirit--- requires an attitude of both openness and critical discernment that existentialism often contains. (Although not all existentialists would agree---they’re an unruly bunch!) For those of us who do astrology, we struggle to discern what is real and useful and true, while also holding to the place of acceptance of the cycles, life rhythms, and the numinous idea of synchronicity. And we offer our clients an open “weltanschauung” or world view that allows them to place our ideas within their philosophy. So we can see astrology as not being a religion but an intuitive art of the Spirit where we can track the movements of Spirit in time.

I see astrology as being balanced between an attitude which is both Saturnian in its efforts at discernment and Neptunian. Existentialism is Saturnian in its no-nonsense approach to the harsh realities of life, and although the art of astrology is more Neptunian, it doesn’t make a case for a God of a certain creed or fantasy. Astrological thinking instead implies that in this Saturnian world we are poised and resonating in a balance between the heavens above and the earth below, and that here there are cycles, seasons, and predictable movements that allows space for Neptunian mystery.

Some people would say this is a ‘stretch’ but I like to think of the idea of existential astrology as the initial philosophic place we stand in, and from there one goes forward into one’s own Neptunian or astrological cosmology. I’ve chosen to embrace “evolutionary astrology” which posits the belief in reincarnation and the evolution and growth of the Soul through time---but this is not for everyone.

On my spiritual journey, existentialism played a crucial part in my transition from Catholicism to a belief in the Soul’s evolutionary journey. After leaving Catholicism I lived and waited in an existential space until life and astrology began to show me more. And what opened up for me was an awareness that the numinous spirit could never be bounded or understood completely by any one system or religion or even astrology. However, how delightful it was to find that there are prints left in the sand from the path of Spirit! That there are clues in the heavens and the seasons and the archetypes as to how to navigate a life. The markers are all around us, and astrology is one such pathfinder. The existentialists have a favorite mantra: “existence precedes essence” implying that we are always in the process of becoming who we truly are. I would add that living an astrologically aware life helps us to discern the essence of who we really are, thereby making the process of “becoming” a conscious one--and that is indeed a profound gift.
© Elizabeth Spring www.elizabethspring.com

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Existential Astrology (Part 3)


I believe it sometimes takes a heroic effort to create meaning and love out of a life that feels devoid of both. We need a sense of purpose to hold us in hard times---as author and Auschwitz-survivor Victor Frankl wrote: “Suffering minus meaning equals despair”. He felt that if one has a sense of responsibility towards someone or some work, he will never feel the urge to throw away his life. He felt that if one knows the “why” one can bear the “how.”

The Existentialists wrote passionately about this kind of struggle to wrest meaning out of meaninglessness, and like a scrawny kid developing muscles, they believed we all have the potential to create meaning and live an “authentic life.”

The existentialists were writing to motivate us to consciously develop our sense of meaning and purpose, whereas the psychologist Carl Jung felt that the issues lay more in the realm of the unconscious. He developed a theory of consciousness in which he expressed his feeling that all neurotic behavior after mid-life was due to lack of a spiritual focus. He saw that most people turn to “spirits” rather than to Spirit, and told Bill W., the founder of AA—that only an experience of Spirit can counteract the spirit of alcohol---or as he said in Latin: “Spiritus contra Spiritum.” But today we take Spirit literally in religion and drink, and then find that aggression--- whether jumping off a bridge, abusing a child, or going to war--- is often a last resort, done half-consciously. Jung offers us other possibilities to consider.

Conscious change has a better chance of happening when we dare to look at things through the eyes of ‘Spirit’ and when we understand what Spirit uniquely means for each of us. Existentialists remind us that we create our essence with each responsible choice, and that there are innumerable ways to be authentically present. Jungians would point to the center of the circle-mandala (which shows up in all cultures as a religious symbol) and explain that there are as many ways to the center of the Self as there are people alive. Astrologers would spend hours talking about the relation between character and fate; arguing that a change in character alters one’s fate. But nobody has said that any of it’s easy. Even so, I invite you to look at things differently as you read through these musings, and ponder how these three ‘ingredients’ might change your life in subtle but profound ways.


Do you remember reading about those “French Café sitters” who would earnestly debate existentialism for hours over coffee? Jean Paul Sartre was the unacknowledged sage of the group. But his strident atheism and fictional dips into the theatre of the absurd were not endearing to most of his friends. Rather it was Albert Camus, with his humanist agnosticism and compassionate sense of the importance of “responsibility” that gave existentialism a heart.

The existentialists believed that we live in a world devoid of innate meaning, but that our free-will choices and decisions really matter. By attempting to live a life based on our values and not just the cultural norm, they believed we create an authentic life and create meaning for ourselves and others. “Existence precedes essence”, they would say, and they believed that the life choices we make need to come out of a deep connection with our personal values. For them, to live an in-authentic life, based on bourgeois unreflective values, would create such a false existence that our lives would begin to crumble as we saw our shallowness reflected in other people’s eyes….thus Sartre’s comment in his play, "No Exit" that “Hell is other people.”

Camus was not a stranger to these ideas, but embraced them and became politically and socially active in the French Resistance Movement in World War II and espoused a softer and more humane response to the radical ideas of these times. As a rebel with heart, this author of “The Stranger” was an outsider at times, but also perhaps a precursor to the beat generation in the US that evolved slightly after his time.

Both of these men, and the Existentialists that came before and after them, felt the uniqueness and isolation of the individual living in a world that so often feels hostile or indifferent. For them it didn’t matter if God did or did not exist because ‘He’ seemed indifferent to the plight of their time--- living during and between the World Wars--- when their Judeo-Christian backgrounds didn’t hold up well to the level of evil they were seeing, nor to the level of alienation they witnessed in the techno-industrial working world. They passionately caught on to the idea that what could possibly carry us out of this meaninglessness is our courageous use of freedom of choice--

Jean Paul Sartre and Albert Camus challenged the religious assumptions of their time and crossed a threshold of thinking after which they were mocked as being pessimistic, pedantic, and weird. They hadn’t invented these ideas, but popularized them in their novels and in their “café conversations” that were heard and documented around the world. Yet there were other thinkers who went before them who led the way. The basic tenets of existentialism were first presented by Soren Kierkegaard in 1843 in his book Either Or and later developed by Martin Buber in 1923 in his book I and Thou and then again in 1927 by Martin Heidegger in Being and Time.

Today, one could say that existentialism is the philosophy that underlies all our academic, scientific, and psychological assumptions. In polite society, there are no metaphysical assumptions allowed anymore. Existentialism could be called the current religion of the modern world. One could make a case that existentialism is the philosophy that most people really believe, no matter what their ‘religion’ is. This is because whether it’s the old American dream of “from rags to riches”, or Napoleon Hill’s power of positive thinking, or the New Age creation of our own reality, there is a sense that we have an almost terrible freedom, and that we are more powerful and responsible than we would like to believe. It’s uncomfortable to believe this, and most of us find economic or personal dramas to excuse us of the responsibility of this freedom. But as uncomfortable as it is, if we dig deeply we’ll find gold.

The early existentialists were like lonely heroes. They proselytized action and encounter with life as coming before any innate meaning. They urged us to heroically force life to mean something---to choose values and act from those values again and again against a culture that unwittingly tries to disempower and hypnotize us all into a collective sleep. The existentialists were champions of creative people and those who sought freedom in which to make their choices. And they knew how hard it was---as Camus said:

“If there is a soul, it is a mistake to believe that is given to us fully created. Rather it is created here, throughout a whole life. And living is nothing else but that long and painful bringing forth.”

In that long and painful bringing forth there’s a tendency to lose a sense of meaning from time to time, and just as you must stop the bleeding when an artery is cut, you must also stop the bleeding away of meaning. Otherwise, we lose energy and creativity as depression and inertia steels over us. And when we look to the creative giants of our day, we see that even productivity itself isn’t a guarantee against loss of meaning---Van Gogh was an example of that.

In the next post we’ll look at the link between existentialism and astrology, and particularly in navigating one’s life direction and soul purpose. ~elizabeth spring http://www.elizabethspring.com/ elizabethspring@aol.com