Mirroring: That Which Is Above to That Which Is Below

Dear Kendra~



I wish I could be like mythogical Merlin here, magically bestowing answers and comfort, but instead, you have me, your friend and mentor, who is more humbly "a reluctant astrologer." If I were him, I would be sharing with you how the Soul has such strange ways of mirroring the ancient esoteric saying: "that which is above to that which is below." I would add too, that one is not to fear the dragons in the forest, but that the dragons in the psyche must be loved and appeased first.





You have serious questions about the "shadow side" of astrology--that there appears to be ways to make astrology "prove anything" because there are so many different ways of approaching this art. It's true that I don't see astrology as a science, with definitive repeatedable rules. But is anything that "speaks" to such questions as fate, destiny, character, and cosmology, that way? I don't think we can speak of these questions that way. We can't deny our free will, and yet we can't deny the Mystery that we live within...




So, this mystery of astrology is illusive at times--with its "smorgasbord" of systems, or dialects---it doesn't present a united front. It’s the ‘shadow quality’ of our work for sure. But there are two things that are important to remember: all astrology is here to remind us that we are part of a larger cosmos, plan and purpose, and that we can trust in a pattern that is greater and wiser than ourselves. People need to know that. They need to see how their particular story, with all of its gifts and woundness is part of a larger sacred story. And I believe, as the ancient Hindu's believed, that "Goodness" exists at the heart of it.


We go to astrology because we want “to know ourselves” so we can make better choices—but we want to know about ourselves without someone pathologizing, shaming or blaming us. We want to understand why we do what we do, and astrology—no matter what “dialect system” it uses—gives us a way to talk deeply about ourselves and our inner struggles.




But you ask about the different "language dialects" between systems---such as the Vedic vs the Western, or the different house systems, such as Placidus vs Koch....well, I think most astrologers are simply drawn to a person who uses a particular method, and who shows them that it works --not tells them! And then they find a way to work within that language system as well. Astrology is like a romance language, derived from a similar root, and a "table is a table" whether we name it in French or Spanish. A table exists, just as a language exists, so it's ironic when someone says "I don't believe in "astrology" because I then feel like saying: "You don't believe in Spanish or French either?"


And of course, just because one person primarily uses the birth chart and asteroids and another relies on planetary progressions and transits, doesn’t make any of them wrong or better. It's a language that speaks to the Soul, and different dialects speak clearer to some people more than others. The ideal in any system is to be able to see a theme repeated several times in different ways—sometimes called the rule of three: you see a theme repeated three times, you know that what it points to carries weight….some truth.



So not only are systems, orbs, aspects, and "readings" not perfect “black and white” paradigms, but people are often profoundly paradoxical! Like the planets that are held within the mandala of the chart, people have many sub-personalities, and are constantly in the process of changing as well! What underlies a good reading-consultation often has much less to do with the mechanics of the astrologer’s technique than something else--something most astrologers use almost unconsciously. Let me get back to this in a moment....but first your question--





Underlying all astrological technique is the shadow of the unspoken fear--- is there a better way or a more accurate way to do this? How do I know if this is the best way? These thoughts are 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.



As a counseling astrologer, you know that I went back to school in my forties to get a Master’s degree in counseling psychology (with an emphasis in the work of Carl Jung.) And most of my astrology teachers used the tropical Placidus house system, and viewed the planets as mythological archetypes within a spiritual mandala. They saw the transits and progressions as challenging turning points along the process of individuation. I liked that! I liked seeing how the astrological elements related to the Jungian modes of sensing, thinking, intuiting, and feeling. And I liked Steven Forrest’s evolutionary astrology and Alice Howell’s wise “kitchen table” wisdom. I liked Jungian astrologer Liz Greene’s depth as well as other British astrologers…. so I find that my eclectic brand of astrology fits ‘just enough.’ And when asked: Is astrology based on science, or synchronicity? I launch into Jung’s theory of synchronicity, and I’m off and running…that's my style.



But I’m still uncomfortable with variations of your “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 more? And how can I justify my use of orbs and aspects? I don’t know, but I am most “reluctant” when it comes to predictive astrology, such as the Vedic, because we truly can’t know how anyone is going to “play out” their signs and aspects. We can’t step on anyone’s free will choices, and isn’t that wonderful?




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 also need to have many tools and techniques for different people and 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?


So perhaps the answer is to be found in finding that “sacred place or temenos” where we engage with our Self or with our client in a way that resonates with the process of deep inquiry? Does it matter what astrological language we use? Perhaps it’s not about the Jungian evolutionary approach, or the Vedic approach, as much as it is about affirming what we, or our client, already knows to be deeply true.




So….what do we want? I think the hope is that 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 this is what I offer you: the idea that the technique that brings in the "magic of synchronicity" is already embedded in most systems---the idea of deep listening and creating moments of connection and 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 Hermes did—as a communicator; as an instrument of the Divine.



We are looking at the Shadow—that’s delicate work! We’re looking at the blueprint of the psyche, and in those moments of listening with the heart we get a chance for the Spirit to enter; for what the Jungians call the numinous moment--- when we—or our client-- look at the chart and see the answers projected there---upon the clear sky of the heavens above and the gods within.



Ah…feel like I’m waxing a bit poetic here—but you got me going! Hope this helps~



Love,



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

You Can Make Astrology Prove Anything!

Dear Isabelle~




Sometimes I think you can make astrology prove anything. Isn’t it like the Bible—the way you can just pick the right verse and chapter, and prove anything?! I can imagine you can make a case for God’s approval or disapproval, or for Destiny’s "Astrological" approval or disapproval, on almost anything in the chart—?





Look at the choices we have—look at what astrology has in its toolbox: mid-points, solar return charts, transits, fixed Stars, progressions—just pick the question, choose your attitude and response, and you can back up anything you want to say with some aspect…why not? We can use Vedic, Sidereal, Placidus, or Koch systems, and then add an evolutionary, predictive, or psychological bias....and...does it really come out the same then... is it really all ‘under one sky’? And if so, how do I know what’s the best approach to use? Sorry if I sound like the great skeptic, but even you have called yourself the “reluctant astrologer.” What do you mean?

Warmly,

Kendra



PS Why are you going to Zurich? Is it to see Carl Jung’s house? Or are you going to meet Alistair at the Krishnamurti center near there? I hope Sophie can be open to all this….!

Saturn's Gift: Inspired Melancholy

 Saturn’s Gift: “Inspired Melancholy”


Today I was reading that the medieval astrologer, Marsilio Fincino, was the first to express the “gift of Saturn”—namely that the Saturn can be the midwife of insight. This is because depression, or “melancholia” as he called it, creates a permeable boundary between consciousness and unconsciousness, and allows us to adjust issues that have gotten out of hand—real issues—our personal unfinished business. This inner reflection, or depression, is experienced like a “falling into ourselves” that brings us to the point where we are no longer able to continue with life in the usual way. Because we’re not nourished any longer by what is—by what the ego has achieved and what the world has given us, we begin creating a bridge: first insight, then action, then change.



Sounds good, but at the moment I can feel the “melancholia” with Sophie, and I don’t have insight into what she’s thinking, so the feeling hangs in the air between us today like a gray mist. I wonder how we lost yesterday’s magical synchronicity at Whitby?



So I sit here reading and journaling-- reading about how Saturn times can return us to contemplation, peace and equilibrium—or it can lead to what Carl Jung called “enantiodromia” –a complete and opposite change of attitude. This is when a condition is so polarized or severe that it polarizes into its opposite. I wonder if some of that is brewing. I read on: “Saturn marks off the stages, the ages, separating time, history and the past. We often lose energy as we move through this passage, as we are called to dance with an invisible partner. The antidote to Saturn is Jupiter, the planet of expansion, grace and opportunities, and Venus, the planet of love and connection and beauty.” Who is my invisible partner?



During Saturn Returns and transits we are more permeable to feeling the defeats of the ego and often feel unseen and lacking in direction. Jung would say this space needs to be “held and allowed” until Saturn brings its gift of insight, creating a bridge for the Self to cross over into a truer destiny path. He talked about this in “holding the tension of the opposites” till the third way (the inspiration) is made clear. It can arise from the depths of melancholia and I wonder if this is all playing out with transiting Saturn conjuncting my Sun now….I guess I’m living into it, rather than merely writing about it. When Sophie wakes up, we will decide if and when we are really going to get on that train and go visit her father…or not. I’d like to visit Carl Jung’s place there…



Hmm….it seems as if astrologers either want to make light of Saturn transits, or tend to make them the opposite—fearful. I lean towards seeing the positive restructuring that Saturn wants to build, but I’m aware that it’s a mistake to turn the darkness of Kronos (Saturn) into too much of a good thing—for this would miss the fact that what appears to be the dark night of the Soul still is dark (!)--a “Nigredo” experience—even though it’s the awakening of imagination. Before movement, there is no movement, or stuckness.



Sophie is often a late sleeper. Yesterday she explored Whitby by herself for awhile as I retreated to my room to rest and read…yet even with my books and journal I feel this touch of melancholia—it’s true, Saturn is on my Sun, and I haven’t seen the bridge to the future yet. I wait for insight.



I wait for Sophie….and then…? Will I wait for Alistair? Is he waiting for us? I wish one could take a dose of Venus and Jupiter as easy as one can take vitamin supplements….ah…I hear a stirring from the bedroom….

 

Pilgrimage to Whitby~Where We Find The Stones

                                                             

Dear Alistair and Kendra~



“Whenever two or more are gathered in my name…”…there is love? Or there is Jesus? Or the synchronistic appearance of the “Holy Spirit”?



When Sophie and I got to the seaside town of Whitby, we checked into the hotel that sits right on the river that divides the Victorian side of town from the medieval side. On one side is where Bram Stocker wrote his novel “Dracula” and on the other side is the ancient monastery ruin where the future of the Christian Church was decided at the Synod of Whitby in 664 AD. Here is where the Celtic Christians lost out to the Roman Catholics. Here is where the monks and abbesses fought over such things as how to calculate the day of Easter celebration—here is where the astrological and pagan remnants of the church were finally squashed.



But Sophie knew I had a bit of an agenda by bringing her here, and she wasn’t in a good mood about it. She knew I wanted to impress her with the fact that there was once a different kind of Christian Church other than the fundamentalist one she is connected with now—and—that there were women—like St Hilda, who was the head abbess here, and who once had a powerful position in the church. Sophie knew that I was hoping that the “supremely romantic ruins with panoramic ocean views” (that’s how the brochure described it) would open her mind. I suspect she was steeling herself against it. But she came on this journey with me because I begged her…



And so after we settled in, I suggested we walk up to the monastery as it was sunset and we still had enough light left. However, I’d forgotten how long a walk it is—and it’s uphill. As we climbed the foot path via the “199 abbey steps” Sophie got cranky. She was still weak from her ordeal in Lindisfarne, and I began feeling guilty for pushing her to do this pilgrimage with me.



“This isn’t going to prove anything to me, you know….” Sophie fingered her cross chain as she continued: “I don’t really care about history, I care about Jesus…and feeling connected with the Spirit.”



“The Holy Spirit? I asked. “Did you know, the 3rd person of the trinity was originally called ‘Hagia Sophia’ which meant feminine wisdom in the original Greek? But then it was changed by the Roman Catholics to the Holy Ghost, and the feminine mysticism of it was suppressed. They did a thorough job of ousting the feminine at the first Council of Constantinople.”



“Okay. So that happened. Is that why you named me Sophia?” She was frowning, and we were getting out of breath going up the steps.

“Well…I thought of it. Maybe I wanted more feminine wisdom myself.”

“And you didn’t get it, eh?”

“No, Sophie, I love you no matter what! And I love that you’ve got such a spiritual passion. But I’m just hoping we can find a way not to be so divided on these things—don’t you think there’s a middle-ground, a place where we can meet on all this?”



We stood on middle ground for a moment—underneath a towering stone celtic cross. She leaned up against it to catch her breath. “This is what I believe in.” She pointed up to the cross.



“Me too…But do you see it Sophie? There’s a circle around that cross which changes its meaning. It focuses on the resurrection, the continuity of life, and that the pain of bearing the cross of life is changed by the belief in—“



“—reincarnation?” Sophie stroked the green moss on the cross and then looked out to the sea that surrounded us. A strong wind seemed to be gaining on us, turning the waves rough and the light was fractured by heavy clouds.



“That’s one way to look at that—you know reincarnation was originally part of church doctrine, until the 2nd Council of Constantinople took that one away as well—and then the Roman Inqusition considered it a heresy, punishable by death—such as what they did to the Cathars in France. But the Christian Gnostics and the Essenes taught reincarnation, as well as this old theologian…Origen….but it’s not just about that, you know…?” My voice began rising higher almost as if I was questioning her, rather than retelling the facts.



“You don’t get it, do you? I don’t care about history, I care about Jesus. What he stands for—why not Jesus, Mom? Why not just him and not the church? Why are you and Dad always arguing these things! I don’t care about theories about God! I don’t care! I want to feel it—here—“ She banged her chest like a true pilgrim. “Have you ever experienced that—that warmth of God, in here? I don’t think you have, Mom.” She took a deep breath—“Come on let’s get to the top of this hill.”



We climbed the rest of the way up the cliff silently, watching the light breaking through the clouds onto the stone arches, lichen-covered tombstones and “circled crosses”. It was as if all of nature, all the stones, light, ocean, and wind were saying: “Talk all you want, but I am here.”



So we stopped talking. The abbey was situated on a plateau, and behind it was a shallow pond. We circled around it slowly, and Sophie reached down to pick up something. We honored the silence with each other and the silence of the place. I could see the last of the visitors heading down the cliff-side as it was getting dark, and so we began retracing our steps, with no words…just the ocean breeze and the dappled light on the angel faced gravestones around the chapel next to the monastery. It was too much for words.



I picked up a smooth round “touch stone” on the ground as we walked and began rubbing it between my fingers. I once called these stones, “worry stones”, but now I wasn’t worrying, just wondering-- why was I re-loving Celtic Christianity again? Was it the resonance between the mandala of the astrological chart and the pre-Christian Cross...? Was there room in my heart for the Christian Cross—for Jesus? I remembered the Irish poet, John O'Donohue saying: "The circle around the beams of the Cross rescues the loneliness where the 2 lines of pain intersect--the circle contains and resonates with the mysterious nature of God's love..." The circled cross held hope for me.



Sophie saw me pick up the stone. She looked at me quizzically, and as I turned to her I could see a spark of sunlight reflecting off the ocean surface over her head. Nothing unusual really, but stunning nevertheless…wasn’t that what happened at Pentacost, when Jesus returned to his disciples? Didn’t it give them the gift of understanding and communicating in all “tongues?” And as I pondered this, we lowered our heads watching the steep steps again, as we began heading down.



Suddenly a wild-looking young man--- a John-the-Baptist-type if I ever saw one--- came racing up the steps, muttering: “The Holy Spirit is not for sale….not for Sale!” He stared at us as he rushed by, and we burst out laughing. Then Sophie turned to me with a sly grin, and took a black stone with a circle around it, out of her pocket.



“Here, this is for you---if you give me yours, I’ll give you mine,” she put it in my hand. “But for you--for free…! No sales pitch needed…” We laughed. I took her stone as if it was a great gift, imbued with magic, and I gave her my worry stone.



When we got to the bottom, we ducked into a little tea shop. There was a soft warm light permeating the rustic shop and I knew it was time to tell Sophie my other story. But it was going to take some effort to try to explain the unexplainable to her.



--and that will be my next email to you both. I guess it’s time I spoke to you all about this….

Till then~

Isabelle