The Twelve Houses of the Horoscope

The Houses are divisions in space (or in time) of the energy field of the earth, such that there is a twelve-fold division, paralleling the twelve-fold division of the Zodiac (the signs). Just like the signs, the houses also reveal an unfolding pattern of growth and development, from the First House to the Twelfth House. The symbolism of the twelve houses reflects that of the twelve signs, although the houses are considered to be more closely connected to mundane earthly affairs. Thus the first, fifth and ninth houses are "fire" houses involved with identity, the second, sixth and tenth houses are "earth" houses concerned with the material plane, the third, seventh and eleventh houses are "air" houses involved with communication and relationship, and the fourth, eighth, and twelfth houses are "water" houses concerned with the depths of the soul or psyche. It is said that the planets are specific energies, modulated by the energy of their sign, which play themselves out in the department of your life represented by their particular house position. The methods of dividing up the space around the earth into the twelve houses are similar to each other, in that they all involve the same Rising sign, as calculated from the time of birth. Also, the house cusp opposite will always have the opposite degree of the Zodiac, same degree number, but in the opposite sign. Except for the "Equal House" method, the various methods will produce the same MC or Midheaven. The Equal House method just uses the Rising point to define the other cusps, so that the houses each have an equal slice of the Zodiac, 30 degrees apiece. For the Koch, Placidus and Campanus methods, named after their inventors, the intermediate house cusps are calculated in varying methodologies, based on different philosophies and mathematics. For these methods, only the intermediate house cusps will be different (as distinguished from the "Angles" which are the cusps of the first, seventh, fourth and tenth houses). If you do not have a distinct preference for one house system versus another, you can experiment with which method you find the most accurate in the interpretation produced. It is possible to set any one of these four methods as the default. Below you will find information about the Twelve Houses of the Horoscope, and their correspondences. Click on the House's name to see the interpretations from our acclaimed TimePassages Astrology Software. The keywords in the chart below provide insight into the major influence of each house, but does not cover the broad range of experiences involved in each house.

Name

Position

Natural Sign / Ruler

Keyword

Ascendant 1st House 2nd House 3rd House Nadir 4th House 5th House 6th House

First House Cusp Angular Succedent Cadent Fourth House Cusp Angular Succedent Cadent

Aries/Mars Taurus/Venus Gemini/Mercury Cancer/The Moon Leo/The Sun Virgo/Mercury

Appearance Self Possessions Mind Foundation Family Creativity Health

Descendant 7th House 8th House 9th House Midheaven 10th House 11th House 12th House

Seventh House Cusp Angular Succedent Cadent Tenth House Cusp Angular Succedent Cadent

Libra/Venus Scorpio/Pluto Sagittarius/Jupiter Capricorn/Saturn Aquarius/Uranus Pisces/Neptune

Partnership Relationships Intimacy Learned Beliefs Role in Society Career Organizations Inner Life

Ascendant
Indicates the Cusp of the First House. The Ascendant, or Rising Sign, is the mask shown to others, the way we present ourselves. This sign, along with the sign of the Sun and the sign of the Moon, is an important component of your personality. The sign on the Ascendant often describes one's physical appearance. Those with Leo Rising, for example, are likely to possess a mane of flowing hair. Planets in conjunction with the Ascendant also affect personality and appearance, in accordance with the qualities of the particular planet. The Ascendant represents your persona, or how you appear to others, how others sense you, in your true interaction with the world. In esoteric tradition, the Ascendant represents your true or soul-level personality. House Correspondences Chart

First House
The First House symbolizes the acting self, the personality as it appears to others, and the unfolding of one's individual destiny. Its beginning point is the %Rising sign%/degree, one of the most significant points in the birthchart. Planets in the First House affect your personality strongly. Their characteristics are a keynote of your personality as you express yourself to others. House Correspondences Chart

Second House
The Second House symbolizes what the self has to work with materially: possessions, money, and physical resources. This house also represents your desires and values. Planets in the Second House operate in the field of material needs and also indicate what you value most highly. House Correspondences Chart

Third House

The Third House symbolizes thinking and communication, also traditionally brothers and sisters, writings, and short journeys. Your early environment is also represented by this house, as well as your powers of analysis and discrimination. Planets in this house indicate how you communicate and operate mentally. House Correspondences Chart

Nadir or IC
Indicates the cusp of the Fourth House. As the base of operations of the personality this house is quite important, because without a place to stand emotionally, the personality cannot function. House Correspondences Chart

Fourth House
The Fourth House represents the home environment, family life, and the father, or perhaps the same sex parent. Planets in the Fourth House reflect your family orientation, an ability to dig into the past in order to discover the roots of your being, and how your father (or perhaps your mother) was experienced by you. House Correspondences Chart

Fifth House
The Fifth House represents creativity and self-expression, also offspring, and is also associated with romance and affection. Following the base of operations represented by the fourth, the fifth house represents the arena in which your personal energies can be released into the world. Any area which is stamped by your personality, including the display of affection or any creative endeavors such as your artistic expression, is therefore represented by planets in the Fifth House or the sign on the Fifth House cusp. House Correspondences Chart

Sixth House
The Sixth House represents issues of sickness and health, and service to others, including conditions of daily life, or work. This house also relates to discipleship and mastery, and the overcoming of obstacles in producing the fruit of one's achievements. Planets in this house can manifest as challenges to your well-being, or as indications of a profession of service to others. House Correspondences Chart

Descendant

Indicates the cusp of the Seventh House. The sign on the Descendant often indicates the type of marriage partner you will seek. House Correspondences Chart

Seventh House
The Seventh House represents marriage and partnerships of all kinds, and issues with relating to other people. As the opposite to the First House of personality, the Seventh House describes how you fit into the world of others. Planets in this house often indicate the type of marriage partner you will seek. House Correspondences Chart

Eighth House
The Eighth House symbolizes issues of death and rebirth, sexuality, and transformation. As this house follows the house of relationship, it refers to the fruits of relationship, and these include the power to change based on new understanding made possible when one is no longer acting solely as an individual. Planets in this house are difficult to interpret, but may refer to how sexuality is manifested or to lessons you need to learn in order to grow and change. House Correspondences Chart

Ninth House
The Ninth House represents intuition and the study of religion philosophy, and higher learning. In addition, it represents travel to other countries, and legal matters. This house is interpreted similarly to the ninth sign of Sagittarius, and represents the expansion of horizons, mental, physical and spiritual. Planets in this house may symbolize your philosophical pursuits, or possibilities for travel. House Correspondences Chart

Midheaven or MC
The Midheaven or MC (Medium Coeli) usually, but not always, indicates the %tenth house% cusp. Symbolically, the Midheaven represents your individuality, the outward expression of your energies. It can also be referred to as ego identity, and has a strong connection with public life and career, as symbolized by the %tenth house%. The Midheaven also represents your aspirations and ideals. Together with the %ascendant%, it represents personality in interaction with the world. Natal planets in conjunction with the Midheaven are considered "elevated" and are emphasized in the chart. House Correspondences Chart

Tenth House
The Tenth House symbolizes the public life, authority, career issues, and also represents the mother, or perhaps the opposite-sex parent. As standing opposite the Fourth House, the Tenth House represents how the foundation of the personality is made manifest and concrete in the world. The birth chart is often divided into four seven-year periods, one per quadrant, cycling each twenty-eight years of life, and the Tenth House is reached at age 21, the age of legal adulthood. Planets in the Tenth House will indicate what the energies and challenges are for your career, and also how your mother (or perhaps father) was experienced. House Correspondences Chart

Eleventh House
The Eleventh House symbolizes goals and objectives, also friendships and membership in groups or associations. The work in society represented by the tenth house is released through the individual in the activities associated with the eleventh house. Planets in this house indicate how visions for the future and also group associations and friendships will operate in your life. House Correspondences Chart

Twelfth House
The Twelfth House refers to the unconscious and to things beyond the physical plane. It is traditionally associated with confinement and self-undoing, and has been called the house of karma. Planets in this house indicate functions that are hidden from your conscious personality, and are expressed in terms of psychic faculty or self-sacrifice. House Correspondences Chart

The 8th House

by Dana Gerhardt

Writing about the 8th house isnt easy. After all, says my friend Geraldine, who truly feels comfortable talking about their experiences of love, death, and sex outside the privacy of personal conversation?

The 8th comes up in most of my astrology consultations. But usually Ill enter through a side entrance, discovered in the course of conversation, without announcing Im going in. Ill step out just as gingerly. This is the house of secrets after all. It rules sex, other peoples money, taxes, debts, loss, and death. As a beginning astrologer, its easy to be intimidated by this house. Planets in a s olar return 8th can make you quiver. Transits to the 8th might suggest years of calamity and doom. Over time, however, this knee-jerk fear gives way to deep respect. Survive an 8th house transit and youll be reborn. Valuable lessons will be learned. Event ually youll regard the 8th as a kind of spiritual master who only shatters you for your higher good. Your ego holds no dominion here. In this house greater forces run the show.

Its difficult to talk about the 8th, but we all know 8th house territory. From childhood onward, we crawled through this archetypal jungle on our knees. There was that mysterious tension in the air whenever your Aunt came to visit. Or how, with a single word, your grandmother could turn your dad into a child. It was the odd feeling you got when your uncle invited you to sit on his lap. The 8th carries your psychological inheritance the potent invisible currents that no one talked about. Here were the electric fences strung across the rooms when your parents argued about money or sex. Here too was the power of your mothers purse, full of mysterious totems and the smell of money. Maybe you tried a few magic spells to make it come to you. But mostly you were under others spells here, shaped by rituals and defense mechanisms absorbed without your comprehensionyour fathers deep self-loathing, your mothers rage, handed from female to female down your family line. In later years, perhaps when a transit touched this house, such legacies might be painfully stripped away. Buried 8th house secrets might suddenly spring to light. This is the house that keeps the therapists in business.

Transformations here arent always bad. The 8th describes important sexual initiations. A financial inheritance or an insurance settlement could be indicated by the 8th. Also your first joint bank account, loan approval on your first house. If you practice divination, the 8th can help you answer questions like Will I get Aunt Melanies millions? But if youre a counseling astrologer, youll likely be working with the part of this house thats known by feelings more than words, the unspoken contracts, the irrational fears, the pull of the past, its compulsions and obsessions.

Like the 7th, this is a house of others. In the 8th we can be rocked by our relation shipsinto desire, anger, ecstasy, insecurity, or greed. If the 7th house describes relationships forged through equality, in the 8th house we suffer (or profit from) relationships based on inequality. When others enter the intimate waters of this house, they get some power over us. Whether its the bank, our parents, the IRS, our sexual partners, even a stranger who happens to push our buttons, and lets not forget the scythe-master Deaththrough the 8th we become painfully aware of forces beyond our manipulation and control. In our struggles here, how should we proceed? Most journeys here require a guide. Along with unflinching, courageous awareness, surrender is the most useful 8th house word.

Monsters in the Closet

I remember a client who used to call me every couple of months, always with the same question. Her progressed Moon was in the 8th house. Is it over yet? she wanted to know. Rebecca was nervous about spending money; she told me she couldnt afford a session. She just wanted to know which d ay the Moon would be out of the 8th and into the 9th. Because Id told her this several times already, I knew shed dialed me up for another reason. She needed to talk. There were no tangible crises going on in her life, but ever since the progressed Moon had entered her 8th, shed been suffering from anxiety and depression. The 8th, writes John Frawley, can show fear and anguish of mind.1 Especially with the progressed Moon in this house, the mind can become ones own worst enemy, particularly when it resists the call to either get help or let go of an attachment.

Rebecca lived alone. Her husband had died years before. Her daughter wanted her to sell her house and move to a seniors condominium complex. That meant shed have to go through all her old possessions, including her dead husbands things. Shed have to say good -bye to her garden and her trees. Shed have to deal with loan officers and real estate agents. Shed have to meet new people who might not welcome her. She didnt have the heart to face any of this. She avoided the decision and tried to go on as usual, which meant she would call me every few months, in tremendous pain.

The 8th house can describe the monsters hiding in our closets. Im thinking of Mercer Mayers childrens book by the same name (Theres a Monster in My Closet). A little boy hears a frightful noise, and night after night, quaking in fear, with a flashlight ready, his toy soldiers gathered around him, he barricades the closet door. His fear only grows bigger. Finally he decides theres nothing left to do but face the beast. The monster is big and scary, but in a surprise turn, the demon goes jelly-kneed and begs to crawl into bed with the boy. The same can happen with our own 8th house monsters. Our fears want comforting so they can dissolve. But if we refuse to face them, their power only grows. To deal with 8th house feelings, we may need a Charon (the mythological guide who ferries souls across the river Styx). Our Charon could appear in the form of a therapist, an astrolog er, or a friend whos been there before. But if, like Rebecca, we stubbornly resist help or change, we will never claim the healing power that lies beneath our fears.

The progressed Moon finally entered Rebeccas 9th house. Six months later I heard from her again: Is it over yet? she moaned. Nothing had changed. She was still debating whether to sell her house, worrying about all the work it would take, fearful that she wouldnt be happy in new circumstances. Even though her progressed Moon had entered the more spacious territory of the 9th, Rebecca still wasnt free. She had never opened the door and released the monster from her closet. For the two years of the Moons progression, she had steadfastly refused to surrender her old life. That meant a new o ne couldnt be born.

The last time Rebecca phoned, she had finally put her house on the market. I never heard from her again. I like to think this means she finally sold her house, cleared her psychic closet, and began to enjoy a new adventure in the 9th. Theres a saying among astrologers, Its a transit; it will pass. The suggestion is that when the planets move on, so will we. But if we resist the work required, especially in the 8th house, we might remain there long after the transit has moved on.

Quicksand of the Past

We can resist the 8thbut we can get mired there too. This heavy house can draw us down like quicksand. My friend, astrologer Lucy Pond, tells a story about one of her clients, Linda, who got stuck in the 8th when Jupiter transited there. It wasnt until Saturn came along that she woke up. Traditional astrology says Saturn is the ruler of this house. Saturn in his home territory can act as a karmic cop. If weve been evading our responsibilitiesmaterial or metaphysical, he will bust us. Lucy describes it this way: Saturn in the 8th house is the bill collector. What is hidden will be flushed to the surfaceeven if that is your own lost self. The following story is in Lucys words. She wrote this for a previous TMA column of mine on the 8th house.2 Its worth reprinting.

LUCYS STORY
A couple years after Linda started working with me, she announced she had taken my advice and found a good therapist; they were dealing with her repressed memory syndrome. She was remembering having been raped by her

father and her two brothers, a recollection that threw her into a tailspin. Transiting Jupiter had just entered her 8th housea good time to delve into the secrets from the past, especially deeply buried secrets. Pisces was on Linda's 8th house cusp and repressed memories seemed to fit with her style of dealing with intense emotion. I shared my findings and encouraged her to stay with her therapist.

As the years moved on and Jupiter entered her 10th house, therapy became Linda's identity. She had recalled the exact details and circumstances of all her rapes. Though seemingly cut off from the real world, she formed friendships with others in the incest survivors group. She was devoting more and more time to counseling and almost completely stopped working to pursue what seemed a virtual addiction to therapy. She had passed beyond the door of the 8th house, but seemed to be stuck there emotionally.

As Linda's astrologer, I was often frustrated with her obsession with the past. Regardless of how I encouraged her to be in the present, she translated all astrological information as an opportunity to go deeper into the past. I reminded her that she was living through the rear view mirrorthat she had no idea where she was, or was heading, only where she'd been. There was no "present time" in her life. And because I believe astrology is best used as a tool for living more fully in the present, I felt futile as a resource.

Several months ago, on the event of transiting Saturn conjuncting her 8th house cusp, Linda asked my astrological advice on falsifying some federal assistance papers. To remain on the public assistance program that allowed her to pursue therapy rather than working, she had to swear that she received no outside money. We both knew this was untrue; for the past four years her father-perpetrator had been quietly sending her money.

Among the many meanings of the 8th house is taxes. Frequently, when transiting Saturn is here, a person is audited by the IRS and financial secrets are brought to the surface. My advice to Linda was "No, don't do it. Don't risk being audited, as you could very possibly be caught."

The next time Linda walked into my office, she was a strikingly different person. She was finally and quite clearly in present time. Rather than her usual wounded and hidden presence, she seemed fully alive. I could hardly wait for her to sit down. "What's going on with you?" I asked. "You look better than you have in years."

Linda told me she was being audited by the federal agency that had been providing her benefitsthat the agency did not believe she could exist solely on the monthly stipend they were sending her. The agency was contacting her neighbors, her landlord, even her parents to discover how she had made financial ends meet. She was possibly going to be charged with a felonyno joking matter.

Linda was frightened, and with good reason. Yet I was amazed at how whole she now seemed. No spaced-out lost soul here. Linda was scared, but fully awake. I asked about her various therapies. She said she had cast them all aside. "That's over. I don't need that anymore. I want to get a job, make some money, and start paying the government back." What a response! She was starting to reclaim her life and live in present time.

Facing Death

The 8th is the house of death. It might seem paradoxical that in this house we can renew our life; yet there is a connection. According to the Buddhists, nothing gets our spiritual priorities straighter than death. Keep Death to the left, the shaman Don Juan advised Carlos Castanada. Acknowledging death can be a powerful means for moving us into present time. Almost universally, those whove suffered near -death experiences report that it blessed them with a keener sense of life.

Modern and traditional astrologers disagree on deaths importance to this house. Dane Rudhyar suggests this meaning is overrated.3 As spokesman for the traditional view, John Frawley argues otherwise: In any astrology that purports to say anything of concrete and verifiable accuracy, the eighth is the house of death. This is not death in any poetic or metaphorical sense, as some modern authorities claim. This is death in the very real sense of someone no longer being alive.4

That a person will die is one prediction we can make with full accuracy. The trick is nailing when. Recently I heard the story of a woman who visited an astrologer and was told her death was imminent. She was thrown into turmoil. When the time passed and she didnt die, she was relieved, then mighty angry with the a strologer. Last week a dear friend confessed that on her recent trip to Nepal a palm reader had told her she would die in five years. Choking back tears, my friend asked if I saw the same thing. I checked her chart. I saw nothing remarkable and she was relieved. Still I wondered, if the time came and I was wrong, would she go hurtling through the afterworld mighty mad at me?

Frawley suggests that modern astrologers are squeamish about giving their clients anything but happy news. Traditional astrologers were more practical: it was pointless to predict a clients Wednesday if by Tuesday hed be dead. To locate the time of death, Frawley suggests looking carefully at the 8th house cusp and ruler, also the condition of the 8th in the solar and lunar returns. It s true that most modern astrologers havent developed this technique. Rarely does Timing Death appear on conference schedules. When I ask my astrology buddies their means for timing death, their responses are as vague as mine. The mother of one of my astrologer friends had terminal cancer. We looked at possible times for her inevitable death. We suspected it would happen the year Pluto squared my friends Moon, but her mother ignored the transit and continued living.

Perhaps as the Buddhists say it is enough to know that we will die, even though the time is uncertain. In the meantime, when my clients show an 8th house emphasis by transit, progression or solar return, Ive found it useful to suspect that something in their life will die. However poetic and metaphorical my view, its also practical; the majority of my clients survive these transits and gain new meaning from them. Youll have to decide for yourself whether we moderns are dumbing down the tradition or expanding the symbols to speak to a cont emporary cultures needs.

Planets in the 8th of a solar return can signal a year of crisis or instability. There may be a significant lifestyle change, difficult adjustments to a divorce, a move, a new job. An emphasized 8th in the solar or by transit or progression can indicate a death or emotional crisis for someone close to us. Often our own ego gets a traumatic hit, suggesting its time to let go of some notion it holds about itself. Recently my friend, astrologer April Elliott Kent, posted an article on her website about Saturn transiting through her 8th house. Saturn, she wrote, is stomping through my eighth house like Godzilla humbling Tokyo, holding up a mirror to my trembling second-house natal Saturn with its many insecurities.5 The 8th house rules our partners money; Aprils husband was currently without an income. Together they owed the IRS a chunk of change and although their stock portfolio wasnt dead, it was on life support. They also became victims of credit card fraud. Really, April wrote, eighth house transits dont get a whole lot worse than this. Its enough to make you want to take a nap. And drink heavily.

April emailed me the day after posting her article. I just received the most mind -blowing email Ive ever received from a reader, accusing me of writing only about (my) life, (my) house, (my) husband and suggesting that I return to a more generic approach (when did I ever have that?!). You can imagine my reaction, and my response... I'm considering writing an addendum to the article with this extra illustration of the Saturn opposition at work. Second house Saturn: You think you're no good, unworthy, your ideas unacceptable? Eighth house transiting Saturn: Well, you're RIGHT!

Heres where its helpful to know astrology: April could lay down and die or recognize something else needed to die. And that's exactly what's coming out of this, April emailed the next day. It's like a whole lifetime of people picking at my creative efforts with their who do you think you are? attitude is bubbling up and I'm just standing there and saying, you know what? This is bullshit! Not all 8th house deaths are bad. Because of her courageous awareness, Aprils insecurities tumbled under the Grim Reapers axe.

What About Sex?

The idea of sex as an eighth-house activity is quite horrific, writes John Frawley.6 Sex in the traditional system is located in the 5th house. Im inclined to agree. But I have noticed that for the month the Sun passes through the 8th each year, my clients report having the most amazing sex dreams. Or they discover an unusual jump in phermones making them more attractive to the opposite sex.

Fifth house sex is joyful and full of pleasure. In the traditional view this is Venus realm. This is a house of play and sex is a great way for adults to play with each other. But 8th house sex is different. Its more complicated and mysterious. Its the kind of sex Pluto had with Persephone (Pluto rules the 8th in modern astrology). When the 8th is activated, we might identify with one or the other. We could feel possessive and on the prowl like Pluto. Or be innocently picking flowers like Persephone, heading for a big surprise. As either character, well land in a bed from the underworld.

Eighth house sex is the kind husbands hide from their wives. Or its the kind couples argue about, I want sex this way I need it so many times a week. This power struggle extends beyond sex and into everything: I hate your mother I dont like the way you spend money. Eighth house sexual struggles are the ones that appear on Oprah andDr. Phil. But in the myth, we never get a picture of what Pluto does with Persephone. When myths draw the curtain on certain scenes, its a clue that experiences here are wildly varied, and that each one o f us must navigate this passage on our own.

Yet we cant leave the 8th without hearing at least one sex tale. This one comes from Bronwyn Elko, another astrologer who contributed to my previous 8th house column (when Saturn was in Pisces). One of the things I especially enjoy is how it proves that even grim Saturn can have a sense of humor. I leave you with her words.

BROWNWYNS STORY
After I lost my virginity I wrote in my journal, "Today Peter and I made love. Phosphorescene bloomed into visions. Now I know there is a God!" Sacred sex is my religion, a portal to mystical ecstasy. Never mind the mucky consequences of spiritual pride bound up with intimacy, "healing through sex," sacrifice as power, and other

Pisces/8th house delusions. Some part of me stubbornly believes that the "universe ofyoni" (Hindu for vagina) receives a divine spark from a man's lingham, or "wand of light." The stir of sticky fluids is nectar from the gods which acts like a drug.

All my life I've spontaneously hallucinated during lovemaking. It's as if other worlds breach the surface of our skins. It sounds crazy, but the universe once enfolded my lover's eyes and biological time flowed backwards into alien landscapes. With natal Neptune in the 3rd, these visions fuel my fantasy fiction, which is interesting in light of recent events.

Saturn entering my 8th unearthed subterranean Pisces when I became passionately involved with a man whose physical condition prohibited sexual intercourse! Devastated but determined, I vowed to stick it out. The more I "sacrificed and suffered" the worse things got. A power struggle ensued wherein we fought to change each other's values. Threatened by his nihilistic vision, I promptly donned savior robes in a hopeless attempt to "redeem" him, the hidden reflection of my own denied cynicism.

My Aquarius on the 7th was hopelessly "hooked": the guy is the brilliant writer my Saturn in the 3rd yearns to become. But Saturn transiting my 8th forced back the projection in the most painful way possible (via Neptune square natal Neptune in the 3rd). Can you guess what Piscean currency his Promethean spirit "stole" from me, the coin Charon demanded I pay in exchange for trying to import his brilliance? In short, the whole episode resulted in a crippling block which denied all access to imagination. I felt dead for months.

But that wasn't all.

Shortly after our breakup I overheard two women talking about him at a writer's party. "Oh," said the blonde, "his writing's so passionate." The other blew a smoke-ring and replied, "Yeah, he must be great in bed!"

Notes:

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

John Frawley, The Real Astrology Applied (Apprentice Books, 2002), p. 191 Dana Gerhardt, The 8th House, The Mountain Astrologer, 12/95. Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses, (CRCS Publications, 1972), p. 105 Frawley, ibid, p. 188 April Elliott Kent: www.bigskyastrology.com Frawley, ibid, p. Dana Gerhardt, ibid

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The First House

by Dana Gerhardt

There are houses on the coast built right to the cliffs, with breath-taking views of sea and sky. What would life be like being born into such a home? Or how different might ones perspective be, starting out in the desperate tangle of a South Bronx tenement, or a bleak stretch of the Australian outback? As in life, in astrology, ones birthplace has a shaping power. When youre born arranges the planets into signs and degrees. Where youre born drops them into particular houses. It assigns you an altogether different celestial citizenship than someone born at the same moment in another part of the world.

Location counts. And it makes its strongest statement in the 1st house of your chart. If you could have stepped to the hospital window when you were born and scanned the skies on the Eastern horizon, you might have seen the cluster of stars and space that marked your Ascendant, or 1st house cusp. The 1st house suggests your overall vitality, your height, your weight, the shape of your jaw, the expectations you have of beginnings, how you interact with others, your overall approach to life. Some say its the house most descriptive of personality. John Frawley in The Real Astrology Applied calls the 1st house the title -page of the chart, with all the other houses expanding and amplifying its text.1 How does ones birth environment translate to all of this?

It's holistic. Imagine that you began life in a box. As you grew, your body might adapt to its shape, becoming stooped or squared. Youd probably like to hold on to things, and meeting others, youd be closed and secretive. Likely youd enjoy working in the dark. The Ascendant is a symbolic description of the psychic container you first entered, when you left the womb for this world, and with your initial gasping breaths realized, Ive landed somewhere new. The 1st house holds first impressions -- the ones you make on the world, and the ones the world makes on you.

More than country, town, or street, family may be the strongest environmental pressure. As a child, your family is your world. The psychological school of astrology reads the rising sign as the role one plays in this first environment. Family systems theory argues that each child inevitably adopts a unique position in the family system, driven less by the childs true nature, than by the needs of the whole. Family dynamics might require the first -born become its hero, the third-born its scapegoat. Cancer rising may need to be the family caretaker; Virgo, its goody two shoes; Pisces, its lost child; Sagittarius, its clown. Eventually children leave their families for more spacious environments, with new possibilities and pressures. Their initial web expands, but its center remains the same. The 1st house role is an enduring location. No matter where you go, it conditions what you see and how you instinctively respond. This is useful information to have about people. If I think the world is hard like rock and everybody ought to climb, and you think the world is fluid like water and everybody ought to swim, what's going on when I tell you that your problem is you aren't ambitious enough, or you tell me that I'd be happier if I would just go with the flow? Do you think we're really "communicating"?

My mother and her sister havent spoken to each other in years. The particular coal that sparked this fight has since faded and cooled, so that now, when one talks about the other, their pools of childhood memories are stirred for grievances. When they speak I swear they're talking about strangers instead of the women I know. Says my mom of her Scorpio rising sister, the aunt I've always known to be sensitive, tenacious, and perceptive, "My sister was cruel. She never wanted me to have anything or be happy." Says my aunt of her Capricorn-rising sister, the mom Ive often heard lament her lonely, latch -key childhoodYour mother was spoiled rotten. Always the center of attention, got everything she wanted."

Do you think they share the same reality? They came from the same family, but born seven years apart, along different horizon lines, they were spun into the family on different webs, growing up in vastly different worlds.

Not only is Capricorn rising in my mother's chart, her 1st house holds Saturn in Aquarius. With Saturn in Aquarius one can suffer a fear of insignificance, of not being noticed, of disappearing into the crowd. My mom was conceived late in her mother's life. For months my grandmother thought she had a tumor, not a baby growing in her womb! It's not really Saturn's fault that my mother is so short, over a foot shorter than either her brother or sister, but it's certainly part of my mother's metaphysical gestalt. A psychic once named my mother's life mission as "to stand up and be counted." It's a phrase my mom often repeats. My mother grew up in a 1st house Saturn/Capricorn world, full of adults and loneliness. Being sensitive to the Depression years of her childhood further refined her Capricorn lenses. Though ambitious and quite successful, my mom still fears not having enough. Shes forever strategizing about how to earn money beyond the retirement she kept postponing, worried shed become a bag lady wheeling a shopping cart through the

town.

She still has goals, keeps making plans and lists. And all this, good and

bad, filters into her daughters' charts as a kind of astrological inheritance: as a Moon/Saturn square in my chart and a Capricorn Moon in my sister's.

The year I gave birth to my son, my solar return mirrored my mom's 1st house, with Capricorn rising and a Saturn in Aquarius. It was as though I walked in my mothers shoes that year; I found I could empathize with her more deeply than before. Being a new mom and sharing her natal 1st house brought a poignant, bittersweet experience of seeing the world through her eyes.

Years ago I attended a party full of astrologers. The talk had turned to rising signs. "Hes a Scorpio rising, so yo u better watch your back... Well, of course, she's got Leo on the Ascendant, always the drama queen..." Generalizations like this are the bread and butter of astrology, but they make me queasy. Along with intelligence, empathy, and a certain technical expertise, a good astrologer must see people as people, and endeavor to find the person in the chart. Individuals are reduced, labeled, and treated like objects most everywhere they go, but in an astrologers office, they should be seen in their fullness, as a live, complicated, gifted, and whole. The Ascendant suggests the key to working this way.

The rising sign is one of the most tender doorways into an individual's psyche. This was where, as a child, they were all wax and impressionable, where they first discovered the need for a mask, and so constructed one. The next time you read a chart, try starting by entering its 1st house depths.

Immerse yourself in its elemental basis, water if its in Scorpio, fire if its in Leo. Imagine being a child enveloped by this element. Invite your intuitive mind to tell you a story from this persons past. What might have wounded them? What made them feel safe? How were they encouraged? Stay with your imagining until that persons Ascendant mask begins to replace your own. Grow them up again. What does the world now look like from their eyes? Look across to their 7th house of partnership. What sort of people do they meet? How do the career challenges of their 10th house feel from this vantage? Once youve fully experienced the chart from its 1st house point of view, youll be able to honor the person in the chart with more gifted sensitivity.

Some astrologers believe the Ascendant offers a truer, more intimate portrait of an individual than the Sun sign. Sun signs are the same for everyone born within a 30-day period--while Ascendants differentiate within this group, being more precisely tied to each ones birth moment. In the Sun -versus-Ascendant argument, I'm more inclined to agree with Howard Sasportas, that our Ascendants lead us toward the identities promised by our Suns. The Ascendant may be the way we hatch but what we grow into is the Sun sign. The Sun is why we are here; the Ascendant is how we get there.2

The 1st house represents the starting point on the path to self-discovery. Its a comfortable, but early identity. Like a well-worn coat, and much like the South Node, it's a cache of mental habits and survival mechanisms that got you going in life, but can eventually hold you back. Ive noticed that the people wh o seem most frustrated in fulfilling their destiny are often invisibly bound by the web of their 1st house. I'm thinking in particular of a Gemini friend, who puts Gemini activities--social interaction and the discussion of new ideas--at the top of his list of life's most meaningful activities. And yet, his Scorpio rising persona inhibits him from mixing in social gatherings. He'll stand silently to the side and watch, protected. We've attended a number of workshops together (the Gemini in him wouldn't miss it), yet invariably, at the first break I'll find him in the defenses of Scorpio. He is angry and distrustful. "The speaker is too charismatic and false. Hes manipulating the audience," he scowls.

Then theres Paul. He called me from his car phone; his words kept fading in and out. "I saw your picture and felt you could help me, I'm used to getting psychic impressions of people ... now I need focus ... goals ... I don't know ... I'm at a crossroads ... my relationship just ended ... maybe I'd like to develop my skills as a healer ... I'm also into the arts."I

t's not my habit to guess someone's chart from their conversation (the game's much richer the other way around), but when I saw Pauls chart I wasnt at all surprised. Paul spoke straight from his Nep tune in Libra Ascendant. Before Paul's session, I thought about his chart and what he wanted from the reading. Should you give a Neptune rising "focus" and goals? Can you? Or could you sooner move the heavens and put Pluto or Saturn there instead? I entered his Ascendant. I saw fog. I meditated on fog. Can you focus on the distance while traveling through fog? Do you see the destination ahead of you? No. You can see the hand in front of your face and that's about it. When you're driving through fog you must go slowly, alert to what's near rather than what's far. You must use an almost sixth sense of trust to feel what exists in the shrouds. If I were to be of much help at his present crossroads, it was this skill that I needed to raise for Paul.

I found Paul to be an intelligent, creative, compassionate man. As he spoke about growing up in his family, I understood why the boy Paul had to draw on the chameleon-like ability of his Libra Neptune mask to balance and blend in. To survive, he became whatever anyone needed him to be. The cost, of course, was that the authentic, creative and passionate Paul, the Paul of his Sun Pluto conjunction, had to check out. And each time he dissociated from his present reality, his desired future slipped further away.

Paul wanted to talk about options --- going back to school, or apprenticing with a master, perhaps relocating to a different part of the country. I wanted to talk about his present. I asked him, if he focused on where he was, making his choices from his present feelings, did he trust he would reach the place he'd always wanted to reach, whether it was going to school or making art, in this part of the country or elsewhere? His voice came a bit more deeply into his body: Yes... When I can quiet my mind I know this is true. For the rest of the reading we talked about his relationship, the one that had just ended. Even Paul could sense through his pain that this was best, for both of them. His chart agreed. Two weeks later I got another call from Paul's cell phone. His voice was softer, fading in and out again. He'd just called his old girlfriend, who was already living with another man. He'd begged her to take a vacation with him, to that magical place where they'd first fallen in love. "She said she'd call me back ... she was confused ... she didn't want to hurt me ... she didn't know what to do." Paul had lost his way in the fog again. He'd slipped out of his present feelings (the agony of his loneliness) and into the faraway fantasies of his Neptune mask.

This brings us to the crucial 1st house question: How do we keep this early container from becoming our prison? The Jungian psychologist James Hillman once said, You have to give up the life you have to get to the life thats waiting for you.3 This was the secret message coded in the stars on the Eastern horizon at your birth. Newly born, youd just proven the truth of it: you had to relinquish the womb in order to reach the new life awaiting you. This is a natural law of development. Understanding this is the key to mastery of your 1st house. Writing about the 1st house, astrologer Dane Rudhyar stresses the need to separate yourself from its early influences, the personal, social and cultural conditioning that mothered you.4 The work of the 1st house is to keep birthing yourself, which means to keep separating, to keep honoring whats different about you. Your difference, says Rudhyar, is not the same as a self-involved burden of alienation (Nobody understands me). Rather its about accepting the gift of being distinct. On a deeply spiritual level we may recognize were all one, interconnected and interdependent. Yet its also true that the whole does its most productive and creative work through individuals. When

you embrace your individuality, you come closer to fulfilling your destiny. You gain access to more inner resources. You become more authentically formed.

The sign on your Ascendant isnt the goal of individuation, its rather the means.

Its less the authentic person and more the persona, the style through which you express your spirit in the world. This image is more properly a work-in-progress, a becoming that continues throughout your life. See your Ascendant as a flexible, elastic covering, that can stretch and reshape as you grow. Imagine for a moment that your 1st house, its sign and planets, are a mask you can take off and study. Put it on the table in front of you. What does it look like? What expression does it wear? How might a person wearing such a mask maneuver through the world?

Notice this mask is made of pliable material. How might you alter its expression? Without tearing the whole thing apart and installing a different rising sign, how would you redesign this persona so it could get you more of what you want? Pick the best qualities from the sign, its ruler, and any planets in your 1st and decorate your mask anew. How different does it look from the mask you first put on the table? Does it more successfully express whats distinct about you? Consciously or unconsciously, this is the work youre doing when progressed and transiting planets cross into your 1st house. Celestial logic requires these planets transit the 12th house first. This is the house of endings. During 12th house transits, the old approach unravels. Youre emptying ou t, so that you can inhale fresh spirit and recreate your mask, when this transit moves into 1st house.

I learned astrology using the contemporary alphabet system, which teaches that Aries, Mars and the 1st house are the same astrological letter. This makes Mars the natural ruler of the 1st house. Its spontaneous, impulsive, energetic, and assertive energy suits the feeling we can have when a transiting planet enters our 1st house. Were urged by modern texts to take initiative and put ourselves out there, cook up new opportunities, go after what we want. It was initially disorienting then, when I learned that traditional astrology makes Saturn the 1st house ruler. But as John Frawley points out, Saturn rules doors and boundaries, and there may be no stronger boundary than the Ascendant in defining whats alive from what is not.5

Mars may suit our 1st house urge to begin, but Saturn describes its essential task. Saturn rules form. And during 1st house transits we are reforming both ourselves and the world we see. Saturn rules both separations and society the two forces that collideor colludein this house. We meet the world here, and under its pressure, we discover our difference. Traditional astrologers also give Mercury special dignity in this house. It joys here, understandably, because as we redefine ourselves in the 1st house, we also recharacterize our surroundings. We do Mercury things: we name what we see, we tell stories. During 1st house transits we get a chance to reinvent our self-image and retool our perceptions of the environment. Recently I spoke with Julie. The Sun was transiting through her 1st house. Though astrologers dont often talk about solar transits, Ive found the Suns annual circuit through the chart to be quite profound. It names our personal seasons, the months where each houses work becomes important. Julie knew very little about astrology, but when I explained what the Sun in the 1st house meant, Julie laughed in recognition. So thats why!

As a child Julie had crooked teeth. This imperfection made her feel insecure, wary of smiling or laughing too loud. Perhaps it was from having no money or perhaps it was indifference, but her mother never took her to an orthodontist. My mom always said I looked fine, but I knew otherwise." This year, when the Sun entered Julies 1st house, this 45-year-old woman made the appointment herself. She was finally going to have her teeth corrected. This physical change hailed a separation from her past, and a birth into a brighter, more confident persona. May you make good use of your 1st house transits too!

Notes:

1. 2.

John Frawley, The Real Astrology Applied, (London: Apprentice Books, 2002), p. 154. Howard Sasportas, The Twelve Houses (Wellingborough, Great Britain: The Aquarian Press, 1985), p. 40.

3. 4.

Quoted from Sacred Contracts by Carolyn Myss (New York: Harmony Books, 2001), p. 2.> Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (New York: Doubleday, 1972), pp. 58-59.

5.

John Frawley, op cit. 152

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the moon has a powerful influence on daily life, but few are tuned in. If you want to increase your sensitivity to the lunar rhythm, this is the workshop for you. Every month before the New Moon, you'll receive a 26-page workbook, personalized to your birth chart and current location. You'll learn about the astrology particularsthe new moon and solar ingress, how these influence your chart, along with moon phases, moon voids, moon signs and house transits. Throughout the cycle, you'll be guided into an ever more intimate appreciation for the moon's workings in you

The Second House

by Dana Gerhardt

Like a mischievous boy releasing a mouse in a roomful of cheerleaders, try dropping the subject of money into a gathering of metaphysical people. Watch how many scramble for the tabletops. When you're discussing the 2nd house, you have to talk money. Yet in most spiritual circles, money is a dirty word. Craving dollars is an affront to spirit and decidedly uncool (except of course, for those spiritual teachers whose hands are always open for donations). Nor is astrology exempt. More than once I've heard that charging for readings is blasphemous, since astrology is a gift (this might explain the profession's drive to prove that it's a science). New Agers, on the other hand, like money. They'll recite affirmations and magic mantras to get more of it. If you don't have enough, they argue, it's a sign that your thoughts are uncool.

Whether money is dirty or evil--or spirit-inspired--or as is more likely the case, energetic but neutral, How do I get more of it? is one of the top three questions on most clie nts' minds. Frequently it's followed by the lament, If only I didn't have to make money! What a tragedy the world expects us to be house painters, insurance salesmen and loan officers, when our souls cry for grander personas, to be artists, philosophers, adventurers. Having to make money seems a wretched detour. I've heard it said that God needs more dishwashers than kings, but why then, wouldn't God plant in us a burning desire to wash dishes instead? This dilemma is especially acute for the Pluto in Leo generation, whose dream of creative self-expression is so keen despite being raised by Pluto in Cancer parents, for whom money, the security of it, the status of it, was the greater prize. Aside from love relationships, little provokes so much longing, anxiety, resentment, or confusion. Astrology locates one's financial status, along with the attitudes and conditions that help or hinder it, in the 2nd house. If you want to unravel your own money mysteries, it's through this house you must travel. What you encounter there, however, will hold the key to far more than just your bank account.

In Sacred Contracts, medical intuitive Caroline Myss identifies the energetic ground of the 2nd house. (1) Though Myss is not an astrologer, she has a keen grasp of archetypal energies. To diagnose the condition of your 2nd house, she suggests looking at an area of life where you feel continually disempowered. Though this conflict may surface in areas associated with other houses--your relationships (7th) or your career (10th)your disempowered approach, she suggests, will likely source from the negative attitudes in your 2nd house. In other words, the key to your power in the worldor the lack of itlies here.

The 2nd is a succedent house. This means it succeeds or follo ws an important house on the angle. The angular houses (1,4,7 and 10) are, as John Frawley writes, the structural key to the chart, like the main beams in a roof. (2) Planets in angular houses are stronger, have more power to act. They define the pillars of your life: your personality, your home and family, your relationships, your career. A planet transiting through an angular house will often bring more dramatic changes than the same planet transiting another house. Angular transits can initiate a theme that survives long after the transit has passed.

This doesn't mean succedent houses are less important. Rather, their significance is bound up with the house that came before. Succedent houses play a necessarily supportive role. They're meant to stabilize whatever the angular house has launched. The succedent 5th, for example, rules children, romance and creativity-but together they have a job to do. As activities, they further encourage the self-essence nurtured by home and family in the angular 4th. Likewise, the deepening intimacies, financial and sexual, of the succedent 8th test and/or strengthen the partnerships forged in the 7th. Similarly, social networks in the 11th can affirm or undermine the professional status developed in the angular 10th.

The role of the 2nd house, therefore, is to support whatever entity was birthed in the 1st. A vigorous 2nd house not only ensures your survival, it can make you a force to contend with. If you were a nation, for example, your 2nd house would describe your national assets, your banking system, the health of your exports and crops. If you were a country declaring war, in the war chart's 2nd house you'd find your allies, your ammo and your guns. Similarly, if you were a plaintiff in a lawsuit, the lawsuit chart's 2nd house would show the people testifying on your behalf. A strong 2nd house can make the difference between winning and losing.

The 1st house shows your emergence into life and the 2nd shows what keeps you here. It holds everything you can call mine. Through the 2nd you extend into the world and ground your being. As a baby, this begins with acknowledging your very own fingers and toes, the food you possess with your mouth, the teddy bear that no one can sleep with but you. As you grow, you must continue the process of grounding, which keeps deepening your 1st house process of self-discovery. You keep learning about who you are through the things you want to own, the resources you have to use, the value you place on yourself.

The 2nd rules both what money can buy (possessions and material resources) and what it can't buy (talents, self-esteem, and values). If you're unhappy in your career, the work you're doing may not utilize your natural talents--described by the collection of sign and planets in and ruling your 2nd house. Moon in or ruling the 2nd, for example, suggests strong intuitive resources, emotional sensitivity, a desire to nurture. Unless this Moon is in Capricorn, Virgo, or Taurus, a career as an accountant might be torture. Maybe you like what you're doing but it doesn't pay enough. Why does your co-worker march into the boss' office and demand a

raise when you couldn't do it if your life depended on it? He's got an assertive Mercury/Mars conjunction in the 2nd while you have a self-defeating Sun squared by Pluto.

Your 2nd house ground must be worked. You have to transform what you find there. As an infant, this house was a veritable Garden of Eden. Everything you neededtoes, food, and teddy bears--was magically supplied. Yet as you grew, you learned that gardens must be maintained. Vines need pruning, fruit trees must be planted, flowers have to be fertilized. Earth is a paradise, but it's also full of reality. Pests can destroy your garden, predators can steal your crops. If you don't learn how to increase your garden's yield, your needs won't be met, your desires can't be satisfied. If you wait for manna to drop from the heavens, you'll starve.

In other words, you have to get real in this house. You must learn how to use, protect, and manage its resources, or you'll suffer a fall from grace. Anyone who has a problem with money is just plain naive about that.

John is forty-nine years old. He has no savings to speak of and plenty of debt. For much of his adult life John has struggled to hold various minimum wage jobs. For the past ten years he's lived off his girlfriend's income. Benefic Jupiter in diligent Virgo rules his 2nd house cusp. John is a gifted artist and craftsman. His mosaic jewelry designs are truly inspired. They're like paintings in stone, a friend once enthused. Yet John produces his jewelry infrequently. Even during his prolific times, he's been unable to support himself. Talking with John, I learned that his father, a carpenter and set designer for the Hollywood studios, had repeatedly warned his son not to work with his hands. Resenting his blue collar life, his father concluded that if you work with your hands, you won't make any money. The artist in John's 2nd house lay pinned and wriggling under this heavy pronouncement.

John's 2nd house ruler Jupiter is itself ruled by the planet of hands and craftsmanship, Mercury. Both these planets are in a tight hard aspect to Pluto. One is generally powerless to use planets in difficult aspect to Pluto until something is transformed. Mostly John has felt paralyzed--unable to do his art, unable to do anything else. Given John's hands are his best resource, by devaluing them, his father had essentially told him he was worthless. And for much of his adult life, financially and otherwise, John has unconsciously been proving this was true.

Patti has a 2nd house Jupiter in Cancer, conjunct the Moon and Uranus. When she first came to see me, she had money troubles too. Patti is a talented, well-educated woman, but her recent work history included a string of relatively low paying jobs, none of which she particularly enjoyed. In fact she'd just left such a job and wanted to know where to turn next. She hated being economically dependent on her husband.

It took a few sessions to unravel the financial secrets of Patti's 2nd house, but slowly the picture came clear. As a child, Patti observed her father's relentless criticisms of her mother whenever she spent any money. Patti decided to

hold onto (Cancer) whatever money she got. By saving her allowance, she could win her father's approval. Working for her own money would later become important too, because that meant independence and freedom as a woman (Moon/Jupiter/Uranus). At the least, it meant freedom from a husband's criticisms!

Patti's 2nd house conjunction is a gifted combination; she has an abundance of talents to explore. As a teenager she Patti interested in music, but her father's ringing disapproval hit hard. "You can't make any money at that," he scowled. So Patti followed her father's footsteps and got a degree in his field. But curiously, she couldn't make money at that either. Patti eventually unraveled the mystery at the bottom of her 2nd house: Her father's devaluing of her creative gifts translated to the subliminal equation "You only make money when you do things you don't love." She complied with a history of jobs that she hated. Her resentment against this bargain kept her salaries low.

One of the biggest problems with 2nd house attitudes and values is that, initially at least, they're received. I remember sitting in a therapist's office years ago, complaining I was a failure because I didn't drive a Mercedes. But Dana, my therapist replied, you've never struck me as someone who cares about such empty status symbols! It was a liberating moment. My father wanted to see me in a Mercedes; that would have signaled his daughter had finally arrived. The irony is that years later I actually did buy a luxury car (though not a Mercedes). Venus rules my 2nd house cusp; I like luxury items! By the time I bought the car, I had raised my income considerably. I had finally grown into my own money values.

Writing about the 2nd house, Dane Rudhyar makes an important point: We must transform this territory to suit our individual purpose and destiny. (3) If we don't, we're merely servants of the past, agents of ghosts, our lives being lived by our ancestors. Possessions must be used, says Rudhyar. This means impressing them with the rhythm of our individuality--whether that's material possessions, our natural gifts, or the money we spend. We need to lead in the 2nd house and give its holdings a personal significance (which is how the 2nd truly supports the 1st). Rudhyar advises we dedicate what we have to who we are, for it's being that gives mean ing to having. Nothing is more futile and spiritually empty than having without being, and this is true of all kinds of possessing. (4)

John is lucky to live with a woman who believes in his talent. But years of her loving support did nothing for John's development as an artist. It was only when Lysa got fed up and

demanded he start earning his share, that John took the emotional risks of supporting himself. Lysa has a good business sense and supplies a lot of the drive for his now budding career. But the excruciating steps of putting his work out there, whether sitting in a booth at a craft fair or even just hearing how customers received his commissioned pieces, are all John's. He is maturing, though shedding the old skin and growing the new one is painful. It takes courage. John couldn't have done it without the prickly need to make money.

That's why I'm suspicious when I hear people complain how the pressure to make money ruins the spiritual life or interferes with one's personal quest. Spirit and matter are inextricably bound. We find ourselves in physical bodies, on earth, needing to make relationship with other material things for good reason. Matter gives form to spirit. What better way to grow and develop soul than against the hard edge of materialism. If we could simply fantasize or "intend" our way to growth, would we ever descend from the ethers?

Modern astrology grants Venus rulership of the 2nd house. Traditional astrology makes Jupiter and Taurus its cosignificators. All three may be important in getting the full 2nd house picture. Venus certainly describes one's tastes, the style one prefers to be kept in. To assess someone's self-esteem, aspects to Venus may tell an important story. But it's also helpful to look where the grounding, stabilizing force of Taurus is applied. Further, the North Node currently in Taurus (through December 2004) adds emphasis on 2nd house issues. Collectively, some will react with a greater desire to spend money on security (funding the war against terrorism, for example). Others will feel this as a need to clean up the nation's finances (addressing the deficit and unemployment). Individually, many will be focused on getting their financial act together.

Jupiter is the planet of wealth. You can't accurately assess someone's wealth potential without determining this planet's strength. That said, I've long puzzled over the following observation: People I've known with the greatest money difficulties often have Jupiter in or ruling the 2nd--while the more successful ones often have a 2nd house Saturn. This runs counter to conventional wisdom, which says Jupiter brings good fortune and Saturn brings bad luck. Maybe this is because we no longer live in the traditional world where the family fortune spelled one's own financial fate, where jumping class lines was difficult, where Saturn described the limits of a life, rather than the efforts to overcome them. Jupiter brings an expectation of privilege--although most I've known with Jupiter in or ruling the 2nd come from middle class lives. Even so, their sense of entitlement is strong. No matter the actual balance in their bank account, about their future, they tend to feel secure. Something will come, they say. And something usually does. John, for example, always had a roof over his head and a good meal, also money for shoes, his masseuse and his dental bill, despite going years without any income.

Jupiter rules my sister's 2nd. Saturn sits in mine. When we both were pregnant, I worried about how I'd manage the coming obligations, the costs of day care, my baby's health insurance, clothes, diapers, food. My sister was relaxed and happy. She was living on disability and the state paid for it all. I made six times my sister's income but who had the greater fortune may be a toss-up! The difference between Jupiter and Saturn reminds me of the fabled grasshopper and ant. The ant works all summer while the grasshopper plays like there's no tomorrow, until winter comes and there's no food. I've been a 2nd house Saturn ant. I save and work hard. But I know a lot of Jupiter grasshoppers who play all summer and still don't starve when the winter bill comes due. There seems to be room for both in this world. So I'll leave it to you to decide--which planet is a blessing in the 2nd and which is the curse.

You can hear me speaking my 2nd house Saturn throughout this article. But I got a taste of the grasshopper's carefree spirit the last time Jupiter transited through my 2nd house. A new spirit of confidence entered my life, bringing an orgy of self-esteem that started the day Jupiter crossed the 2nd house cusp. It was as though some fine trade wind had just blown in and puffed up my sails. I started to value myself. A lot. And to the raised brow of my cautious Saturn, always in guilt and fear about buying things, I started to spend money without apology. Almost every weekend became a shopping trip.

Once Jupiter entered my 3rd house, I lost some of the excesses of that time (who could go shopping, I was too busy with paperwork!). Yet my newfound self-esteem remained. In fact my income rose dramatically not with Jupiter in my 2nd, but after it entered my 3rd. Clearly this was due to the positive seeds planted by the previous transit. I began a new twelve-year money cycle that was very different from the one that came before

Of course money isn't everything. It isn't even what I enjoy most about my 2nd house. All of its struggles and successes run much deeper than dollars. Yet for a quick diagnosis of your 2nd house health, money is a good place to start. Look at your assets and bank account. What do they say about your relationship to earth? Next look at your possessions. Do they reflect your individuality? Do you own them, or do they own you? How about your 2nd house talents? Are they being used? And most importantly, do you keep transforming this ground, ensuring that your 2nd house holds attitudes of power rather than defeat? I used to work with a man who had a stellium of planets in the 2nd, including a Venus in Virgo. Money was not the driving force of Ed's life, but he liked what it could buy. In fact, one of my favorite lunchroom pastimes was listening to Ed romance his latest purchase. Whether food or furniture or the hardwood floors in the new house he just bought, he had a way of describing material possessions with such love and appreciation, you'd swear each was the finest, most delicious thing in the world. Occasionally I'd see or taste the thing he talked about and it actually seemed small and lackluster to me. But what a gift to have first seen it through Ed's more developed 2nd house eyes. The 2nd house after all sets the stage for our physical pleasures and comforts. It reminds us to take joy in earthy things!

Notes:

1. 2. 3. 4.

Carolyn Myss, Sacred Contracts (Harmony Books, 2001), p. 342. John Frawley, The Real Astrology Applied (Apprentice Books, 2002), p. 156. Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (CRCS Publications, 1972), p. 64. ibid., p. 65.

MOONPRINTS by Dana Gerhardt

Popular with readers of "The Mountain Astrologer" for almost two decades, this beautiful report takes an in-depth look at your emotional foundations. You will gain new insights into your birth moon - its phase, sign, aspects, and house. Discover your life purpose, hidden talents and danger zones through the moon

The Third House

by Dana Gerhardt

When my son was three, we'd often walk to the small park fronting the neighborhood swimming pool, so Branden could ride the wee! (his toddler word for "slide"). I remember the time we were joined by an elderly woman. She was chauffeuring her grandson in a little red wagon, or as Branden called it then, a "ride."

The boy was some months older than Branden, and as the boy crawled out of his wagon, my son studied him carefully. Briefly the boy eyed him back, then scrambled over to the bushes, where he picked up pieces of redwood bark and started throwing them at the plants. All the while his grandmother was running a polite monologue about how he should say hi to the nice little boy, how he shouldn't hurt the nice plants, how none of the people would like it if he kept throwing the bark--none of which the boy appeared to hear.

After a few minutes, my son walked over to the boy. Without acknowledging him, Branden also gathered a handful of bark and threw it at the bushes. It wasn't anything he'd done before. For some minutes the two just stood there, throwing bark side-by-side, silently engaged in a rite of communication only they understood. After Grandma broke up the game, the two played separately, with no further acknowledgement of each other's presence--for this wasn't a budding friendship. It was a 3rd house thing.

The 3rd house rules siblings, neighbors, short trips, grammar school, the acquisition and use of language. But underneath these keywords lies a profound mystery: our fundamentally human dance of development--of curiosity, imitation and communication, of adapting to and connecting with our immediate world. It is not so much a house of "things" as it is a zone of activity. The way a plant reaches for light, in our 3rd house, we reach for the world with our minds. The essence of all 3rd house nouns might be collected in a single verb: in this house we learn.

We learn from our siblings and neighbors; from short trips around town; from the words that shape our world; from the social and informational structures we meet at school. The mystery, of course, is that we do this before anyone tells us to be doing it. It's as instinctive as a baby's urge to crawl across the carpet. It's as fundamental as a toddler's delight in made-up words or discoveries like bark-throwing. We take the cues from our surroundings and grow. A child follows her siblings, feeling so accomplished when she mimics their language and behaviors. A child with no brothers or sisters will find facsimiles. Many times I used to spy from behind the fence, watching Branden and his daycare pals sputter around the yard. On the surface they were a flock without pattern, ducklings with no guiding duck -- yet behind their moves lay a complex 3rd house dance of curiosity, competition and imitation, of learning about, and gaining connection to their world.

The 3rd is what's known as a cadent house. "Cadent" derives from the Latin "cadere ," meaning to fall away. The cadent houses are where we fall away from the game plans we initiated in the cardinal houses and stabilized in the succedents. We must adapt to outer forces. Our success there depends on flexibility and versatility. It's wise in these houses to regard all that we meet as a teacher. In the cadents above the horizon, we're brought to worlds beyond our familiar narrow streets. In the 9th we encounter foreign concepts, stretch into new perspectives, discern the bigger meanings behind events. In the 12th we go beyond the limits of ordinary logic and touch what's unconscious, incomprehensible, and divine.

By comparison, the cadents below the horizon may seem less interesting or exotic. Their terrain is certainly more confined. In the 6th we must adapt to the limits of our bodies (in traditional astrology, this is the house of sickness); or we must adapt to the workplace (in modern astrology, this is the house of co-workers and routine tasks). In the 3rd we must concern ourselves with familiar drudgeries: phone calls, emails, our daily drives through town. The keyword list that signaled new adventures for a child evokes for an adult the boredom of already conquered territory. Grammar school is over. Siblings and neighbors cease to expand us. We've already mastered many thousands of words.

This may be why John Frawley writes of the 3rd house: Of all the houses of the astrological chart, it is probably the third that arouses the least interest. In most birth-chart readings it will be quietly skated over, as the astrologer can usually find nothing there that warrants closer examination.1 If an astrologer does talk about planetary transits through the 3rd or a strong 3rd house in a solar return, the usual suggestion is that we take a workshop, improve our communication skills, learn something that might update our resumes. Or an astrologer might say it's a period when we'll be busier than usual, in which case, meditation or stress-relieving practices might be necessary.

The problem with such advice is that it misses the underlying delight and ongoing purpose of this house. Just as the 6th provides intricate feedback on the changing requirements of our bodies or our workplace, through the 3rd we collect a stream of information about the changing contours of our environment. Nothing-not even our familiar world-stands still. Lose interest in these changes and your mind will lose its potency. When you cease to wonder about what's strange in your day-to-day world, when you lose your willingness to taste new words and imitate without self-consciousness, when you forego the thrill of acquiring new masteries, however small, you will lose the vast richness of this house. The issue here is not what we learn so much as that we learn. In the 3rd house we're performing the good work of keeping our minds alive and, in Bob Dylan's words, forever young.

Last Christmas I got a Harry Potter wand. I had fun waving it around, pushing its buttons and generally pretending to be magical. Then one day my son announced he had beaten the game. What game? Your Harry Potter wand. It was a game? I checked the wand's package and read every line. There was no mention of a game, no manual of instructions. And yet, Branden had discovered how to push its buttons in such a way that accumulated points and defeated imaginary companions. Though I was a stellar grammar school student and got A's throughout high school, I got my come-uppance with that wand. At almost 50 years old, I was suddenly in a classroom where I was the dunce!

The 3rd house brings opportunities to keep updating ourselves. Recalling grammar school, on whose model the 3rd house stands, its education was largely mandatory. We didn't get to pick and choose our course of study until the 9th house of higher education. Third house learning, therefore, is more about what our environment dictates as

important. You don't use the Internet yet? You haven't learned how to greet your new Slovakian neighbors in their native tongue? Answer yes and you may be shutting the doo r on continued 3rd house adaptability and effectiveness.

Perhaps the best approach to 3rd house transits is to take an honest look and see where you've fallen behind. Although new technologies like digital cameras and palm pilots may be ruled by the 11th house, their appearance in your environment becomes a 3rd house matter, especially as these transfer information. You may not need all the options on your cell phone, but mastering them may expand your awareness of the world in ways you cannot predict. Learn how to navigate its menu and your brain may start thinking in new updated paths.

Though Branden and I share the same house, we live in different neighborhoods. In his neighborhood, electronic toys are commonplace. Technological Aquarius is on his 3rd house cusp. My son doesn't need a book of instructions. For him this knowledge is in the air, as though all he had to do was soak it up. Our 3rd house mind is often sponge-like, absorbing without concern for the particulars of content. This may be why traditional astrology says the changeable receptive Moon joys in this house. In the busy 3rd, there is much to reflect and receive. Last week Branden came home quite pleased with a rap he'd made up with his friends: I'm down at the street drinking liz bliz w ith the chiz niz at the biz ness. When I asked him what it meant, he had no idea, a fact which diminished none of his pleasure.

Branden doesn't watch MTV yet, but on the wings of Hermes, Snoop Doggy Dog's language still travels through Branden's neighborhood where it's absorbed. This is a fact parents can never fully reverse. It's suggested by the very layout of the horoscope: the 3rd house precedes the 4th of home and family. The neighborhood is an influence that strolls into the home, rather than as parents and educators might prefer out

from the home and onto the schoolyard. Planets and signs in the 3rd house act as a filter on our immediate environment, predisposing us to meet what they symbolize. When Branden and I drive through the neighborhood, his streets are filled with an eclectic Aquarian community: Mom, I know so many kids on this block. I think I know someone on every street in our town. Scorpio -cooler, more secretive and withdrawn--is on my 3rd house cusp. My streets are filled with strangers whose doors are always closed. And this is fine by me: I value my privacy and presume my neighbors do the same. Years ago, when I bought my first home in a condominium complex, I wondered if I could shift my 3rd house experience. After all, along with taciturn Saturn in Scorpio, I have curious Mercury and charming Venus in the 3rd. I resolved to become more "neighborly." As the movers unloaded our belongings from the van, I smiled and waved to everyone I saw. I was ready to learn their names, welcome them into my new digs, share cups of sugar, or whatever it is that neighbors do.

Two weeks later I was avoiding eye contact with my new neighbors-though I swear I only did this because they avoided eye contact first. Perhaps I was in a feedback loop, seeing only my own projections. Had my chart forever doomed me to live in Scorpio neighborhoods? Briefly, during the week after the earthquake (a Scorpio crisis!) my neighbors and I learned each other's names and exchanged phone numbers in case of emergencies. Then we snapped back to mutual invisibility. Over the five years I lived in that complex, I'd only occasionally give or get a hello, usually from some new face unloading belongings from a van.

It's the belief of some astrologers that we're doomed to keep reliving our charts and childhood patterns. Yet more interesting, I believe, is how we can transform them (my 3rd house Scorpio talking). In this case, I think it's the very concept of neighborhood that could use updating. Neighborhood is fundamentally the locus of our daily gossip and personal news. For children (or those ancients whose worlds were collected in a single village) the streets around home were indeed the center of such information. But for someone in the 21st century with money and a driver's license, this locality is vast. And in that larger one, I've got plenty of friendly neighbors with open doors.

Last year one of my neighbors moved from Ashland Oregon to San Marcos Island in Florida. Thanks to free weekend time on my cell phone, we haven't missed a minute of personal news. Through emails I still know what's going on with my California cohorts. And when those web-based political action groups invite me to sign electronic petitions, aren't they much like the guy who used to sit at a card table outside my neighborhood grocery store? When morning TV shows like Regis and Kelly or The View broadcast from sets that look like living rooms, with hosts drinking coffee and discussing the latest gossip, doesn't my 3rd house neighborhood expand to include these celebrities too? I spy on the romantic exploits of The Bachelor, the back-biting of Survivor tribes, and aren't The Osbournes just another wacky family on my block?

The sign on the 3rd describes not only the streets around our home. Perhaps more importantly, it describes the type of mental stimulation we seek in our day-to-day environment. I have 3rd house neighbors around the world who satisfy my Scorpio needs for depth and intimate exchange; regularly I invite Oprah and Dr. Phil into my living room too. The 3rd house tells what types of communication we'll find interesting--which suggests another means for keeping our 3rd house experience fresh. When your daily round grows routine or too overwhelming, examine the neighborhood you've been frequenting. Where do you get your news? Whose influence are you absorbing? Does this neighborhood serve the archetypal hunger of your 3rd house planets and signs?

For years I resisted allowing video and computer games into Branden's world, hoping he would prefer more benign childhood pastimes like book-reading, playing Legos, or inventing imaginary games. He didn't (Mom, I'm sooooo bored.). He was also scared of being left alone. Given the Aquarius on his 3rd, I finally relented and bought him a Play Station 2. Now he claimed I could go to my five-hour class at the Buddhist temple and he'd be fine. He spent that afternoon wandering the streets of (shudder) Vice City's video game. When I got home, he announced he was the happiest boy in the world.

If you feel others don't understand you, writes Donna Cunningham, look to the third house to see how well you make yourself understood.2 With Sagittarius on the 3rd house cusp, she suggests, an open, easy -going approach might invite communication from others; with Scorpio, reserved or biting and sarcastic speech might discourage easy back-and-forth exchange (not with me of course but don't ask my loved ones!). Whatever the style, the 3rd house's affinity with Mercury, the planet ruling communication, is clear, which is why modern astrologers claim Mercury is the natural ruler of this house. Mercury rules all types of messages-letters, rumours, reports, speeches, and debates-all of which belong in 3rd house territory.

Carolyn Myss writes that the 3rd house reveals how you direct your energy into the world.3 The sign on its cusp may describe how you put your ideas into motion and, ultimately, how you wield your personal power. According to Myss, the challenge of the 3rd house is to become conscious of your motivations, as one's every thought, word, action, and deed invoke the laws of magnetic attraction. What you put out in the 3rd is what you'll receive. Action and movement are certainly features of this house. But it might surprise modern astrologers to learn that in traditional astrology, action-oriented, desire-inspired, power-wielding Mars, not Mercury, is assigned rulership of the 3rd.

So which ruler should we use? I confess I'm not scholarly enough to settle this debate. I only care how astrology can help us live a richer life, in which case, it seems that monitoring both our thoughts and deeds can improve our experience of the 3rd.

An actress friend once told me about an improv game called mantras. All the actors in a scene would pick a guiding sentence (or mantra) and silently chant it as the action unfolded. Someone chanting "I'm angry" sat down to share a bowl of popcorn with someone else repeating "I'm special," and the spontaneous results, my friend told me, were near Pulitzer prize-winning scenes. It quickly became clear that the mantras determined all the actions in the scene. I wasn't surprised-for the same is true in life. We act according to how we think, and what we think about our world, depends a lot on what we've been doing. Thought and deed, or Mercury and Mars, are deeply intertwined. The next time you feel others don't understand you, or worry that your power to achieve your desires has dimmed, study the field of your 3rd. How are you thinking and acting in your day-to-day world?

Of course, sometimes it's just nice to get away from it all-to abandon the noise and distraction of the 3rd for the more spacious skies of the 9th. Whenever you've got trouble with a particular house, it helps to stand in its opposite for awhile. Opposite the 3rd is the 9th, ruling faraway places, philosophy and religion. Most religions encourage us to love our 3rd house neighbors, but they also advise we avoid some of them too. The 9th can act as a kind of quality control on negative 3rd house influences, both inner and outer. Go to a faraway place that's quiet and your mind clears. Abandon the distractions of your town and you'll achieve a new perspective.

Some say the 9th house rules higher mind and the 3rd house rules the lower. This is an accurate enough distinction, but it has an uncomfortably snooty sound. To my mind, the 3rd and the 9th are equal in importance. One without the other is incomplete. This is especially clear in charts where the Moon's Nodes fall across these houses. The familiar comforts of the South Node house consumes energy and diverts us from our path; the North Node house offers an antidote to this enchantment, but actualizing it isn't easy.

Anna's South Node is in the 3rd house. She's had a busy life, having achieved success in a variety of careers. She's competent in the ways of business-computers, accounting, engineering-yet is utterly mystified about her true life

direction. She doesn't know why, but her busy life has often felt empty, like it was going nowhere. She's forever on the road, marking its twists and turns, but has never seen the full perspective from a map. Like many with the South Node here, she's missing the 9th house visionary gene.

Eric, on the other hand, feels quite sure of his life direction. But he's utterly mystified about how to make it happen. His North Node is in the 3rd. He visualizes his destination clearly; he just can't find the road that will take him there. He gets overwhelmed by the kind of 3rd house details that most people take in stride-phone calls, errands, letter writing, organizing his papers. He's quick to give his 9th house opinion on all sorts of things. For years his ambition has been to publish editorials in The New York Times (why start at the bottom?), but he's never gotten around to actually writing one, let alone sending one in.

Clearly Eric needs a little more 3rd house savvy and Anna needs more soaring in the 9th. For all of us, it's balancing the higher and lower minds that's key. You can do this by designating your 3rd house mind as a 9th house sacred space. Nourish it carefully, cleanse it religiously. Stop the chatter. Discard useless information. Select your neighborhood carefully. Find one where you can breathe in plenty of fresh invigorating air. You'll know you've succeeded when your daily mind is eager for the simple pleasures of reaching for the world, for learning and listening without judgement. These are the priceless 3rd house joys.

Notes:

1. 2. 3.

John Frawley, The Real Astrology Applied (Apprentice Books, 2002), p. 161 Donna Cunningham, An Astrological Guide to Self Awareness (CRCS Publications, 1978), p. 144. Carolyn Myss, Sacred Contracts (Harmony Books, 2001), p. 213.

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the moon has a powerful influence on daily life, but few are tuned in. If you want to increase your sensitivity to the lunar rhythm, this is the workshop for you. Every month before the New Moon, you'll receive a 26-page workbook, personalized to your birth chart and current location. You'll learn about the astrology particulars-the new moon and solar

ingress, how these influence your chart, along with moon phases, mo

The Fourth House

by Dana Gerhardt

When I was growing up, at least once or twice a summer my mother would command my sister and I to toil on the big hill in our backyard, weeding the dandelions and mustard grass that flourished there. Weeds must be pulled by the roots or they'll just grow back again. But perched on the hill with my cardboard box, while the kitchen window that held my mother's warden eye was so small and distant, and the earth below was so hard and rocky the weeds were fixed to the ground, I took the easy way out. I yanked the damn things off at the stem.

Unhappy feelings are a lot like weeds. Neglect to take them up by the roots and they'll just grow back again. Yet who probes willingly into the soil where emotions grow? Finding the roots of feeling can be hard. You might learn this under the gray skies of a Saturn/Moon transit. If you're like most people, you'll try to ignore your depression. You'll put on a happy face for loved ones. You'll pretend to be caring, cool-headed or commanding at work. You'll send energy to your 1st house image, your 7th house partner, or your 10th house career. But eventually, inexorably, you'll fall. And the 4th house is where you'll land.

The 4th is where we go when we collapse. It rules home and family, ancestors and homeland. It provides a literal retreat. Push ourselves too hard and we'll likely end up at home, sick in bed. Suffer a devastating loss and we may knock on the door of a family member and ask to be taken in. But the 4th is just as much a retreat of the imagination. It is our psychic hearth. It holds the memories that both comfort and haunt us. As the base of our chart, it represents both the ground and mystery of our being. If we lean over the chasm of the 4th, we'll find, as the poet Rilke wrote, something dark and like a web, where a hundred roots are silently drinking.1

This is not the definition I got from my astrology books. I have a 4th house Sun. The books said this meant I'd care deeply about my family. As a child I did, but then most children do. As an adult, I was never happier than when my family moved a thousand miles away. Holidays became a spacious new ground. The books said family relationships would sustain me. I've seen my father twice in twenty years. My sister has cut me out of her life a dozen times. And now my adventurous Aries mother is buying a home in Slovakia. When I hear others speak in gooey tones about how they miss their families, I am an anthropologist observing an alien culture. I have knowledge of their rituals, but I don't understand them.

The books said I might cherish my extended family or get into exploring the family tree. Family celebrations with aunts and uncles and cousins stopped when I was five. Aunts from both sides of the family have done extensive genealogies. I've had little curiosity about those pages full of names. Nor do the old photos of great aunts and grandparents inspire much connection. When my son was born, I gave him neither my last name nor his father's. I made one up, something alliterative. I liked the sound of it - which seemed more interesting than his carrying the name of ancestors I didn't know.

The books also said with a 4th house Sun, I'd be lucky in real estate. This was interesting. For years this was my dream. Not that I wanted to chauffeur Lookey Lous around or hold "open houses" every weekend. I just wanted to be gifted enough to buy my own home. In my twenties and thirties, I couldn't walk or drive down a residential street without feeling pangs of envy. How was it all these people managed to own homes? Why hadn't I? It seemed an impossible dream. If it's true the Sun's house identifies your hero's journey, then perhaps buying a home was mine.

It was definitely a milestone when I bought my first property. I sold it during a market slump and lost money. On the next home I made triple what I'd lost before. But my luck seemed more market-based than astrological. Everybody made and lost money at the same time I did. Last night a friend called with an urgent investment opportunity. Rogue Valley is starting to boom! he said. If we pool our money and buy some rental properties in Grants Pass right now, in five years we'll be set for life. Really, we should do this! I

remembered my 4th house Sun. It was tempting. I searched for some inner confirmation of my destiny as a real estate magnate. There was no affirming spark.

None of the textbook readings for the 4th house seemed quite right. I needed to go deeper--back to the basics. The Sun in the 4th house literally describes a birth near midnight. This was in fact the origin of the horoscope's angles. With the four angles, the ancient Egyptians marked the Sun god's daily round. The Ascendant symbolized sunrise and beginnings; the Midheaven, the Sun's noontime zenith and one's public success; the Descendant evoked sunset, the descent and dissolving of the solar self. The angle marking the 4thhouse, the IC, recalled midnight, a time when the Sun god lay hidden between death and new life. The IC represented a transformation point, between the old day and the new.

Whatever your birth time, any planets in the 4th will have this midnight reality. Fourth house territory is what you find when, late at night, you close your eyes. It's what you encounter when you're all alone in the dark. Planets here lie beneath your surface. They are as deeply private as those in the opposite 10th are inescapably public. It's difficult to talk about 4th house planets with clients. The meanings are clear enough. Pluto in the 4th suggests a childhood full of hidden agendas and power struggles. Neptune indicates a family secret that permeated the air but was never spoken. Saturn suggests a home suffused with the dynamics of fear and control. You can talk about such histories with clients. But opening them up and touching them, for they do live on, is difficult.

Close your eyes now. Who or what is there? That's your 4th house reality. And that's how I've asked people to enter this house for years. Your family will be there, in your memories. Your ancestors will be there, in the rhythmic pulse of your blood. Your home will be there, as the secure base that allows you to connect with your innermost self. But you'll discover even greater mysteries. In the 4th you'll find your spirit center, your life source, your inner country of renewal. There will be times when you need to recreate yourself - and you'll do this by descending into the 4th house first. With the Sun in my own 4th house, it's taken me years to learn that my hero's journey was not so much to buy a home. Rather it was to learn about creating home and being at home in my world. I've had to learn this not just once, but many times.

The easiest way to discuss transits or progressions to the 4th is to start with the literal home. Pluto or Uranus in the solar return 4th is a likely indicator of moving to a new one. Neptune in the 4th may imply plumbing leaks or water damage, the discovery of toxic substances in the basement - perhaps an infestation of ghosts! Saturn transiting the natal 4th suggests a period when the house feels cramped or burdened with family duties and obligations.

What happens in the outer house often mirrors its domestic situation. Pluto transiting a 4th house planet can inspire both renovations and marital struggles. Jupiter transiting the 4th can bring a year of feeling blessed--with a spacious home and an abundance of family support. Mars in the 4th might bring an intruder, but more typically it suggests conflict. This is a time when family anger won't be suppressed.

Less easy to articulate, but perhaps more universally true, is how transits to the 4th are experienced on an inner level. Unwanted memories may flood to the surface. Dream imagery may be particularly shrill. Your body may feel exhausted. You might notice a persistent urge to stay at home with the bedcovers pulled over your head. These are signs. They're calling you to the task of homing - the cyclic return to oneself.

The homing process is described in rich detail by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in Women Who Run With the Wolves.2 As archetypal template for this recurring need, she offers The Seal Maiden, a story that appears in various forms across many Northern cultures. It goes like this: One day a lonely hunter discovers a remarkable sight--a group of laughing, shimmering, and utterly naked women dancing on a cliff. They are seal sisters, who have shed their skins to dance briefly in the topside world, before returning to the sea. The hunter can't help himself. He steals one of the skins and strikes a bargain with the hapless seal maiden. If she agrees to be his wife and bear his child, he'll let her go in seven years.

What can she do but say yes? In the seventh summer, when it's time for her to don her pelt and go back home, the hunter changes his mind. He refuses to return her sealskin. Her human skin begins to dry. Her hair falls out. Her eyes grow dull and her body withers. Limping and nearly blind, she is like one of the homeless ones from whom we typically avert our gaze.

Homelessness haunts us all, writes J. Edward Chamberlin. One of the reasons we walk so n ervously around the homeless on our streets is that we don't want to get too close to something we fear so deeply.4 Or is it something we already know. Chronic depression and fatigue are epidemic. They suggest a kind of psychic dispossession - an inner form of homelessness. It is what happens when we go too long without touching the life source in our 4th.

We've all experienced a sealskin theft. We've said yes to something in the topside world. Perhaps it was a promotion that would bring more money. Or a relationship that stole our heart. Maybe it was a pregnancy. Sometimes it's naivete or sheer stupidity that makes us vulnerable to psychic theft. We might have gone on an over-the-top buying spree. Or joined a questionable religious group. But not all our sealskin thefts are bad deals. It could be anything even good things - that take us away from ourselves.

There is an inevitable conflict between the needs of the soul and the demands of public life. From the 4th we're called to serve society in our 10th house role. Our 2nd house wants us to put food on the table. Our children call us into the 5th. Our partners want attention in our 7th. In the seal maiden's story, we can read the hunter as ego. It's his job to take us into these outer worlds. But if the hunter leads us too far from our psychic skin, we will lose sustaining spirit. It doesn't matter how good our initial choices were.

Transits and progressions to the 4th can restore our spirit. This includes transits to the Midheaven. We often forget that these are also transits to the IC, so focused are we on problems of career and public identity. But to keep our outer lives informed by soul, we cannot neglect our psyche's foundation. To live in balance we must stay close to our sealskins and keep a natural rhythm of going and returning.

The sign on our 4th suggests how best to replenish ourselves. It hints at what it feels like to have our sealskin on. Taurus on the 4th will need to ground in earthy sensuality, to be nourished by touch, familiar habits, or the security of material things. Aquarius on the 4th will feel restored by shaking up routines or having the freedom to think and move without entanglements. Aries on the 4th must periodically don the pelt of me, me, me!

I can forget the most important things I know.

Some months ago, past midnight, I awoke suddenly. It was dark, I was alone. My partner had gone on a book tour. The stepkids were with their mom. My own son was with his father. For the first time in the two years since I moved to Oregon, I was sleeping by myself. With a start, I remembered this was my definition of the 4th house. Okay, I said, it's

time. Inwardly, I felt for the familiar walls of my midnight self. But it was awkward, strange. Like that uncomfortable period of silence with an old friend that lets you both know you don't really know each other anymore. I didn't like the silence. I wanted to get back to sleep, read a book, turn on the TV.

When did you grow uncomfortable with the territory of silence? This is one of the quest ions shamans ask of patients who are depressed, displaced, or disheartened. 3 They also ask When did you stop singing? and Why did you quit your dancing? I was no longer singing or dancing at home --signs that the seal skin woman needed her pelt. There were other signs. I was suffering from unbearable fatigue and so many food allergies I couldn't keep track of them. My life had grown thick with entanglements, new demands on my time, new pressures to succeed; as well, many unconscious attachments had returned, old relationship patterns, inner messages of self worth, an addiction to doing. And the part of my root system that used to extend deep into reverie, wonder, and peace, the part that knew deeply who I was and why I came here, was now withering, nearly dry. Could I draw water into those roots again?

I don't know if what happened next was a step forward or backward in my hero's journey. But with Sagittarius in my 4th house I needed freedom. I moved out. I bought my own home down the street. For the first two months I was in a state of collapse. But eventually I began to sing again, inane impromptu tunes. I started to dance in the way that makes my son roll his eyes and groan M-om, like it's a two-syllable word. I could sit in my living room and peel off the outer roles I'm known by, mother, lover, astrologer, daughter, writer, sister, friend. I could dissolve my pressures, fears, the memories of successes and failures, the ache of my desires. I could be nothing but the one who sat there, breathing. And the world around me grew large again. My health and love relationships improved. These things happen when your connection to the 4th is right.

In Deborah Houlding's excellent little book on traditional house meanings, the 4th house rulerships read like poetry: Everything that relates to the foundation and roots of our existence. ... It rules hidden treasure and the treasures of the earth, such as mines and minerals, gems, oil, wells and water supplies. ... It rules land, the quality and nature of the ground (whether it is fertile, swampy, woody, stony or barren), and all the buildings and structures on it. ... It is said to indicate the beginning and end of all things, representing childhood experiences that give rise to an unconscious emotional experience of life, the vulnerability of old age, the process of death, and funerals.5

To look only at the 4th for family or real estate matters diminishes this rich legacy, as does the contentious debate over which parent the 4th house signifies - mother or father. The parent confusion springs from a conflict over planetary rulers. In traditional astrology, the Sun rules the 4th - hence, its association with fathers. Modern astrology

says the Moon rules this house - hence, its link to mothers. But I agree with Howard Sasportas that it's impossible to fix the 4th house to either parent.6

The role each parent plays in a child's development - not planetary rulerships - may be the safest means for locating parents in a chart. Sasportas makes a convincing argument that we'll find the shaping parentin our 10th. This is the one who had the greatest influence on our societal development. The 4th describes the more hidden parent - the one whose influence may have been less outwardly visible, but possibly stronger at an unconscious level.

In The Astrological Houses, Dane Rudhyar sidesteps the parental debate altogether. He acknowledges the traditional view of the 4th. It indeed holds our earthy foundations - from the superficial facts of real estate and home, to all that land implies - the soil from which things grow and to which things return. But this view also suggests an archaic flat land mentality. It forgets the earth is a spinning globe, not a solid floor stretching on that way for ever. If, says Rudhyar, we instead imagine our roots descending into a sphere, we'll reach a new and deeper meaning for the 4th. We'll discover the experience of center. We'll find the matrix of our feeling nature. To be in the 4th is to be centered in the self. The 4th house holds the same kind of life-giving rhythmic power as our heart.

The more one explores the depths of the 4th the less it seems like a place one can point to on a map. It seems more like a state of mind. This is not so different from Clarissa Pinkola Estes' definition of home: Home is that sustained mood or sense that allows us to experience feelings not necessarily sustained in the mundane world: wonder, vision, peace, freedom from worry, freedom from demands, freedom from constant clacking.8 In this home of the imagination, there is room for both the Sun and Moon. This 4th house nurtures us like a lunar mother, it sustains us like a father Sun. It invites us to sing and dance to its shifting rhythms. It holds that castle where we are king.

Notes:

1.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke's Book of Hours, Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy, translators (Riverhead Books, 1996), p. 49.

2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves, (Ballantine Books, 1992), pp.256-297. Angeles Arrien, Gathering Medicine (Sounds True Audio, 1994) J. Edward Chamberlin, If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories? (Alfred A. Knopf, 2003), p 78. Deborah Houlding, The Houses: Temples of the Sky (Ascella Publications, 1998) Howard Sasportas, The Twelve Houses (The Aquarian Press, 1985), p. 57 Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (CRCS Publications, 1972), pp. 73-79

8.

Estes, ibid., p. 284

MOONPRINTS by Dana Gerhardt

Popular with readers of "The Mountain Astrologer" for almost two decades, this beautiful report takes an in-depth look at your emotional foundations. You will gain new insights into your birth moon - its phase, sign, aspects, and house. Discover your life purpose, hidden talents and danger zones through the moon's nodes. Use the moon to position yourself in time - through transits to the moon, your progressed moon sign and house, dates for two progressed lunation cycles, plus a year of new and full moons around your chart. You'll want to read every page of this report, designed to please both beginners and advanced students of astrology.

The Fifth House

by Dana Gerhardt

If you've seen the movie Chocolat, you'll understand an essential problem with the 5th house. This is the house of joy and spontaneous self-expression. It's the house of risk-taking, creativity, children, and love. There's a simplicity and innocence in this house that revels in the unbridled pleasure of being alive. What could be wrong with that? This is the house about which many are curious when they schedule astrology readings: Is a romance on the horizon? Will a child be conceived? Will a creative project come to fruition? The allure of 5th house territory is undeniable. Yet just as the heroine discovered in Chocolat, strangely, unhappily, many people resist their 5th house garden of delights.

In the movie, Vianne Rocher is a scandalously single mother, whose wanderlust takes her to a sleepy village in post-war France. It's the kind of place where people know what's expected. They go to confession.

They dig their flowerbeds. They understand their place in the scheme of things (and if they forget, someone will surely remind them). When they see things they shouldn't see, they know how to turn their heads. When life disappoints them, they learn not to ask for more. But one day, following a sly wind, Vianne arrives with her daughter. Wearing bright red capes, they bring vital new energy to this stone gray town. Soon enough Vianne opens a chocolate shop. During Lent! Made from ancient Mayan recipes, her chocolates have mysterious powers. They unlock hidden yearnings, awaken passion, instill new conviction and strength. The priest condemns her as Satan's helper. The mayor wants her run out of town. Her daughter cries "Why can't you go to church and wear black shoes like the other mothers?"

Vianne is a wild one. Within your 5th house lives a wild spirit too. It wants to shake up your sleepy life. It wants to stimulate your ecstasy for being in the moment. Vianne has an affair with a gypsy. She is clairvoyant too, knowing exactly which chocolate remedy - the rose creme, the chocolate seashells, or the cacao and chili drink - a person's soul might be craving. Your 5th house likewise holds a gypsy spirit that knows just how to make your heart sing. Traditional astrology gives this house a double association with Venus, planet of pleasures and passions. Venus "joys" in this house, which means her natural tendencies find fortunate expression here. The Chaldean order of planets, which assigns Saturn to the 1st house and Jupiter to the 2nd, gives fun-loving Venus to the 5th. It is well known that when transits or progressions energize the 5th house, people do uncharacteristic things. They have affairs. They buy flashy new cars. They dream of running away to the circus. They behave, in short, like children.

There is vital life force energy in the 5th house. This is a natural progression in the wheel of the houses. The emerging self is given a supportive container through 4th house home and family. When the emotional life is thus nurtured, power gathers. There is energy to create. Or procreate. There is enthusiasm for life. One is vibrant and

radiant. This may be why modern astrologers assign rulership of the 5th house to the Sun. The Sun has star quality. It says "I am here!" It needs to express itself dynamically. It wants to feel special. It wants to love and be loved. Do we really need to choose either Venus or the Sun when judging which matters more in this house? It might be wiser to keep both in mind. In the 5th, you must express your Sun without apology. And you must pursue what brings your Venus joy.

People often come to astrology readings because they feel stuck. A question I usually ask clients before the session is "What, if anything, have you been neglecting lately?" The stuck ones usually reply "Myself." What they typically mean is they aren't having any 5th house fun. They aren't taking time off to play. They are being good little girls and boys and doing what's expected of them. They're working without a break, in hopes that some day, all the delayed gratification will pay off. They are like the villagers before Vianne arrives - the widow still wearing mourning black forty years past her husband's death, the village mayor who drinks bitter lemon water and writes sermons about the virtues of denial. They are gripped by a sneaky malady known as "anhedonia," the inability to indulge in fun.

Among working adults in particular, this disease may have reached epidemic

proportions.

At some point people realize something is missing from

their life. Maybe they respond by placing an ad in the personals column. Maybe they visit a therapist and try to locate their inner child. Maybe they buy a book like The Artist's Way to help release creative passion. If they visit a good astrologer, they will be encouraged to open the chocolate shop in their 5th house. Its sweets are no mere luxury. They're critical. When 5th house happiness no longer feeds the psyche, there is little power to move forward in other houses. One's 10th house career grows stale. One's 7th house partnership feels unfulfilling. One's 2nd house income stays flat. Deny your 5th house and your whole chart may suffer.

If resisting pleasure is not your problem, congratulations. Put this magazine down right now. Go out and have some fun! But if your days are overwhelmed with obligations, if your romantic life feels dead, if you have children who drive you nuts, read on. I'll share with you what I've learned from bouts of 5th house anhedonia of my own.

Astrology books make intriguing claims about signs and planets in the 5th. They say that 5th house placements show how you like to be creative and the ways your creativity is best brought out; they reveal your attitude towards children and how you treat your child within; they indicate the ways you like to create romance; they describe how you tackle the "art" of living. There is truth in these assertions. When you catch yourself having fun, you'll find your 5th house archetypes indeed are tingling. But when you're not having fun, trying to strategize from astrology keywords in order to shift your life can be close to hopeless. Try buying a book with suggestions about how to have fun and you'll see what I mean. It's like when my eleven-year-old complains "I'm bored." With loving intentions and all my best creativity, I brightly list several delightful things that he could do. Naturally, he glares back at me, daggers shooting from his eyes. Sorry: there are no pre-fab instructions for waking up a dulled 5th house. It can only be discovered by doing it.

I have Capricorn on my 5th house cusp, which means that Saturn rules this house. From my astrology books, I learned that this is an unfortunate placement. Nothing squashes fun like grim-faced Saturn. (Now you know why I'm writing about 5th house anhedonia!) With Capricorn on the 5th, the astrology books said I likely couldn't have children; if I did, they would bring me grief. I did have my son late in life (Saturn can delay matters). But so far Branden has brought me far more joy than trouble. The books further suggested I would experience inhibitions and insecurities in my creative life. Because I knew nothing about astrology, I spent my twenties as a freedom-loving hippy, I wanted to be creative. I wanted to write the great American novel. Then I decided to be a short story writer. Finally I was hoping to at least write some haiku, but none of these artistic dreams, even as they shrunk, panned out.

Eventually circumstances required I take a job in the corporate world - the very thing I had avoided for years. To my complete surprise, it was fun! I loved it. I found the joy that was missing from my hippy decade. I stayed at that job for 16 years and happily climbed its corporate ladder. Even more surprising, in my spare time, my artistic life blossomed. I finally became a published writer. The structured Capricorn world stimulated the energy in my 5th house. Had anyone suggested this beforehand, I would have thought them nuts. Nor do I think working in the corporate world is the solution for everyone with Capricorn in the 5th. You have to experiment. Especially you must be willing to try things you might otherwise resist. The key to this house is spontaneity - and the willingness to take new risks. Pleasure often arrives in surprising packages.

For many people, opening the 5th house chocolate shop starts up a chorus of inner voices: "You shouldn't! How dare you! Who do you think you are?!" There's a logical reason for this. The 5th house describes one's experience of childhood. And most childhoods are filled with "No's." Parents need to fit a child's wild spirit into society. Their own wild spirits have already been tamed. Some will project their unfulfilled 5th houses on their children, trying to foist on them their repressed ideas of fun. When your 5th house gypsy goes underground in childhood, anhedonia takes over.

You doubt your instincts. You deny the very things that would make you feel glad to be alive. You worry that if you tried them, others would call you naughty or self-indulgent - even when you're not.

I learned about this when my son was two (and my progressed Moon, incidentally, was traveling through my 5th). It was a typical day. I was rushing to get us both out the door, taking Branden to daycare and me to work. I asked my son which jacket he wanted - the red one or the gray. "Red one." I put the gray one back on the hangar. Branden shook his head and cried, "No!" So I gave him the gray one and put the red one back on the hangar. He stamped his feet, "No!"

I went through several rounds of asking which jacket he wanted. It was always "That one," which, it turned out, was never the one I had. I tried a new strategy. "Maybe you want the blue jacket?" "Yes," he nodded. But as the other two jackets went back in the closet, the screaming fit returned. After a few more minutes of this, with the terse, exasperated gestures I swore I'd never acquire, I finally grabbed all three jackets and threw them into the car. We drove for five minutes in a steely silence that made me feel far too much like my mom. I tried digging my way out. I explained to Branden that I was frustrated, how I had a meeting to get to that morning, how I needed his cooperation. From the backseat, he seemed to understand. When we arrived at daycare, I thought we'd reached an accord. "Which jacket do you want?" I asked. "That one," he pointed. Instantly, I knew it was starting up again. So I grabbed all three jackets and threw them at his feet. What happened next stunned me. For the first time that morning, Branden looked genuinely pleased. In a voice so innocent and sweet, he said, "Thank you, Mommy."

Of course! It was a three-jacket day. And what was so wrong with that? Breaking the rules is an essential feature of creative action. An outlaw attitude helps us to jump grids and make new connections. What seems unreasonable to an adult may sometimes be necessary to an artist or a child. Tragic of course is how we fail to hear the special call of every moment. Branden wasn't the unreasonable one that morning - it was me!

In The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron has wonderful suggestions for unleashing your inner 5th house gypsy. (1) In one exercise, called "Forbidden Joys," she suggests listing ten things you would love but aren't allowed to do. Often, she says, the very act of writing your forbidden joys breaks down your barriers to doing them. Doing them is even more

liberating. Last week I did one of my forbidden pleasures. Of course I can't tell you what that was! What I can tell you is that doing it brought a bright smile and new energy to everything else I tackled.

One of the basic tools of Cameron's program for releasing blocked creativity is what she calls an "Artist's Date." This is a fun excursion or play date with yourself alone--that you must commit to once a week. It can be something quite simple and inexpensive, like walking through an unfamiliar neighborhood, just to take in the sights, sounds and smells. You could go bowling or to an art museum, as long as you leave all sense of duty or proper education behind. Watch, Cameron warns, how your inner killjoy wants to avoid or ridicule the experience ("This is a stupid distraction. It's a waste of time.").The trick is letting yourself do it anyway. The rewards, you'll find, are magical. I don't know if Cameron knows about astrology, but it's interesting that she connects the artist date with other 5th house relationships. She notes how play dates can revive a stale romance. And they can increase the affection between a parent and a child. Making time for fun can heal many 5th house wounds.

As you invite more play into your life, you might start recalling some of the dreams you had as a child. These can be another rich source for adult 5th house joy. Sam Keen, author and workshop leader, writes about visiting the circus as a boy. His world stopped when he saw the trapeze artists perform: he wanted to become a flying man too! He rigged pipes and a rope in a front yard tree and acted out his fantasy. Decades later, in his sixties, at a time when his life felt stale, he saw an advertisement for trapeze lessons. The nay-saying voices started up: "You're too old. You're not strong enough. You'll make a fool of yourself." He listened to his inner flying man instead: "Do it!" He enrolled in the school. His body was aching and bruised, but his passion for life was renewed.

Of course, it's fair to wonder: If we jump on all 5th house desires, won't we at times make an ass of ourselves? We've all seen people who've done this: the ridiculously untalented ones at "American Idol" auditions, the software engineer who gets a nose ring in his fifties, the stock broker who leaves a decent marriage for a lap dancer. Shouldn't we apply some 5th house restraints?

In The Golden Ass, the Roman writer Lucius Apuleius tells a pertinent story. The book's hero Lucius visits Thessaly, a place famous for the magical powers of its women. At the home of one such woman, he befriends a maidservant. The maid helps him spy on his hostess as she casts her spells. Lucius watches as she rubs an ointment into her skin, then sprouts feathers and flies out the window like a bird. "What fun!" thinks Lucius. He begs the maid to steal this ointment for him. Unfortunately, she picks up the wrong salve. When he rubs himself with it, he turns into a donkey. He is of course a joyously lewd donkey - and the maid has fun with him. But he remains a donkey for most of the

book, enduring many unfortunate ordeals and punishments, until at last he feeds on roses. Roses are sacred to Venus. Eating them restores his human shape.

The desire to fly is embedded in our 5th house. It is a call from the inner gypsy who wants to let go and be free. But there is a journey here. You must learn to pay attention to what you want. And you must be willing to learn from the inevitable mistakes you will make along the way. It is significant that a friend gives Lucius the wrong ointment. Friends are ruled by the 11th - the house opposite the 5th. A natural, even useful, tension exists between these two houses.

The 11th gives us social feedback. It describes other people - on our playground or in the office lunchroom. Others may join us in 5th house pleasures - at the tavern or the racetrack. But they can also lead us astray, as the maid does Lucius. That Lucius hides behind a curtain and someone else secures his 5th house magic suggests his ego is weak and undeveloped. "Ego" here is not a dirty word. A healthy ego is necessary to face the dangers and vulnerabilities of 5th house risks. Lucius is unconscious when he asks the maid to steal the ointment. But for those consciously trying to fly in the 5th, fears will be strong. Listen to the fears Sam Keen had approaching the trapeze bar at sixty-two. It might sound a lot like your own list before taking a 5th house gamble: "I am afraid of failure. I am afraid of what others will think of me. I am afraid I will lose control. I am afraid I can't trust you. I am afraid I will be abandoned if I do not measure up to your expectations."(2)

Without a healthy ego, we could never face such fears. Ego supplies the confidence and courage to take risks, create art, take up roller blading at fifty-five, or fall in love. Ego is the spark that keeps our passion burning. Children have lots of ego and that's a good thing. Their worlds revolve around their desires. Their innate self-centeredness may be Nature's way of ensuring their survival. Yet all things in proper measure, which is what the 11th house is for. It balances self-centeredness. It will reprimand an out-of-touch ego that disturbs the group and threatens the integrity of the whole. The 11th asks us to be ourselves - but within social reason. If the group likes us enough to applaud our

creations, our ego will win the love and appreciation it craves. Yet if we pursue fame and prestige alone, we will eventually lose the self we first expressed so boldly. The challenge of the 5th is to remain an individual.

The 11th represents the love we receive. The 5th is the love we give. The love in our own hearts is symbolized by the redemptive rose in Lucius' story. The arbiter of 5th house success is how freely and deeply we can love - our children, our romantic partners, our creative work. Writes Dane Rudhyar, "In the fifth house the great test involves the ability to act out one's innermost nature in terms of purity of motive and using in a "pure" manner the means available for the release of one's energies." (3) This then is the only restraint: We must do what we do in the 5th from the purity of love. In this way we serve both others and the energy that flows through us. We lose ourselves in a higher purpose, something only a healthy ego can do.

One of the greatest gifts of the fifth house is its invitation to moments of unself-consciousness. This is the divine self at play, moving with spontaneity and joy. We forget ourselves in the moment. Here, children are the masters. Spy on a couple of kids at play for an hour. Watch how easily they move from one thing to another. No plans, just doing what they please. Count how many times they break into laughter. Can you remember the world ever being so funny? If you try to analyze what's funny, you'll get nowhere. Sometimes I think children laugh just because they can. Their inner gypsy is still free. Your gypsy can endure long past childhood, but she must be continually renewed. This is the opportunity in all transits and progressions through the 5th.

Years ago, when the progressed Moon moved through my own 5th house, I gave birth to my son - a golden event that opened my heart like no other. True to the clich, I "expressed myself" with a flashy new car. I collaborated on a manuscript with a writing partner. I ended a relationship rather than began a new one, but the motive was love. It became impossible to ignore that my relationship had none. By the time the progressed Moon entered the 6th, I was a different woman. I was in love with my life all over again. May your 5th house bring the same delights to you. Now go out and have some fun!

Notes:

1. 2. 3.

Julia Cameron, The Artist's Way (Tarcher, 2002). Sam Keen, Learning to Fly (Broadway Books, 1999), pp. 36-37. Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (CRCS, 1972), p. 84.

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the moon has a powerful influence on daily life, but few are tuned in. If you want to increase your sensitivity to the lunar rhythm, this is the workshop for you. Every month before

The Sixth House

by Dana Gerhardt

Anna Lee was one of my first clients. I gasped when I saw her chart. She had five planets in the 6th house: the Sun, Venus, Mercury, Pluto and Uranus. Whats more, they were all in Virgo, the natural sign of this house. To my novice mind this information jumped from the page with exclamation points. But what did it mean? At the time, I had no idea. I looked forward to the day when I could look at charts and instantly "know." But frankly, that day has never arrived.

I'm alternately envious and suspicious of those who can make instant analyses of a chart with no knowledge of the person whos living it. But there's enough disagreement about the right and wrong ways to practice astrology. I don't want to add to that here. I'll just make a confession: I'm lousy with maps. I have to touch into the territory before the map becomes sensible. Even something apparently simple, like a cluster of planets in the same house and sign, will keep me guessing. For some individuals it does indeed mean an intense and focused life. For others, like Anna Lee, the stellium acts more like a confusing tangle of wires, criss-crossing, by way of rulership, the entire chart. I remember thinking if anyone could teach me about 6th house mysteries, it would be Anna Lee. Saturn was about to oppose her 6th house Sun. I watched the effects of this transit with interest.

Work or health problems often appear during transits to the 6th. It was a good bet that for Anna Lee, one or both areas would be affected. What actually happened, in the months of Saturn's applying orb, was that Anna Lee's boss

Jerry suffered work and health problems. He was asked to leave the company and had a heart bypass operation. Sometimes close associates will do our transits for us, but rarely do we escape untouched. Anna Lee was concerned about her boss' health. But his leaving the firm turned her own world upside-down. She was afraid of two possibilities: upper management would ask her to leave next, or possibly worse, to stay and take his place.

Over the next few months, at Saturn's grueling pace, Anna Lee struggled with her situation. Initially she panicked. Then she interviewed. She got two offers and turned both down. When rumors surfaced that she was leaving, she went straight to the company president and made it clear that she wasn't. It took her boss Jerry months to find a new position, and the company even longer to name his replacement. But as the Saturn opposition became exact, Jerry finally left, and an archenemy was put in his place. Anna Lee was miserable.

" So why didn't you leave?"

Her eyes flickered. She took a breath, "I don't know, I guess I like it there." Moments earlier she'd described her workplace as an intense time-pressured environment that rarely gave her a full lunch hour; upper management never appreciated how hard she, her boss, the whole department worked. She considered her department the nerve center of the company. On the days when Jerry was out, she felt she was holding the whole company together. A Saturn transit sometimes rewards past efforts and brings a promotion: "So why didn't you apply for your boss's position?"

" Oh, I don't think I could do it. It's a lot of pressure..." Her voice trailed off. Her eyes moved to a spot in the distance, then came back. "I just like to work. I don't mind working hard. But I don't want to run things. I'm not ambitious, really."

Victimization, insecurity, a loss of options, plus the willingness to work like a steamroller I checked these qualities against other 6th house Suns that I knew. There was a similarity in their stories. Not all 6th house Suns are hardworking insecure victims. Yet often enough their voices have the same tentative tone when discussing their jobs or their futures. Its not unusual to hear them complain about being overworked or under appreciated. Their resident inner 6th house critic doesn't help. "Do better, work harder" are common 6th house strategies. But they dont always

make the best life solutions. Perhaps this is the downside to the 6ths upside of service6th house Suns tend to wait on others. When the others don't come through, these Suns are stuck.

Ancient astrologers considered the 6th a malefic housenot a happy place for a planet to be. John Frawley, a contemporary practitioner of traditional principles, writes about the 6th: This is the house of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune: of all the things that the harsh, cruel world and that odd bunch of people who inhabit it conspire to inflict upon us.1 Planets in this house are weakened and can harm the other houses that they rule. This is not the house of health, Frawley contends, but the house of illness. The 1st house indicates ones health or vitality; the 6th describes what undermines it. Nor is it the house of work or service, says Frawley. This is a modern invention, loosely based on the 6th ruling servants and tradespeoplethose who work for us. Our own work is still described by the 10th. Contemporary interpretations of the 6th, says Frawley, are simply wrong. They derive from the happy-talk tendency of modern astrologers to whitewash any bad celestial news.

Frawleys views sound harsh to anyone raised on modern interpretations. Yet they fill in a missing note: planets here are often mysteriously under stress. If youre a counseling astrologer, however, its pretty unproductive to tell someone Youre screwed. Perhaps more useful is Dane Rudhyars perspective. He describes the 6th as territory in crisisrequiring reorientation and adjustment. Following the 5th house of creativity, children, and romance, the 6th describes what happens when our 5th house dreams collide with the real world. We realize our creative expressions dont sing with immortality. We notice our romantic life has lost its radiance. Despite our best efforts, our children grumble and disappoint. In the 6th we notice life isnt all its cracked up to be. We can drown in our failure. Or we can do something about it. We can change our approach, acquire new techniques. We can either suffer or grow.

Because the sixth house represents fundamentally everything that deals with personal crises and the way to meet them, writes Rudhyar, it shows, more than any other factor in the whole of the astrological field, how an individual can grow and become transformed.2 To a traditional astrologer, this might sound like happy talk. It depends o n whether you side more with fate or free will. Where traditionalists and moderns can agree is that the 6th often brings the test of suffering. Planets here require patience, endurance, faith, and above all, the effort to learn from ones experience. Anyone with an emphasized natal 6th house, says Rudhyar, cannot escape the call to transform.

As Mars was crossing Anna Lee's 6th house cusp, I received a surprising phone message. Anna Lee had accepted a new position with another company. I was thrilled about the burst of confidence that had brought this change. As I listened to her news, I couldnt help but note the ironies. She was taking a management positionthe very thing shed resisted before. She would be heading a whole new department, in fact, building it from the ground up. It was

funny she was leaving now, she related, because she'd discovered that her new boss at the old company was much better than she'd feared. Upper management was finally making the positive changes shed longed for.

I wondered at her leaving the old company just as things were finally getting better. But I remembered the 6th houses association with illness. As Frawley reminds, illness is a temporary crisis meant to restore ones system to balance. Anna Lees unhappiness with her work was perhaps a useful fever. It allowed her to burn through her passivity and meet life at a higher level. Once this fever passed, she was free to move on. The ancients linked the 6th with alchemy. Perhaps this supports Rudhyars view that the 6th is a transformational house, where one is meant to turn lifes lead into gold. As for Anna Lee, the last I heard she was doing very well.

Both ancient and modern astrologers agree that the planet which naturally rules the 6th is Mercury. Mercury is associated with the mind, in particular the ability to reason. If the 6th brings crises, its the logic of Mercury that helps us respond appropriately. Through Mercury we analyze and organize our experience. We divide our time into useful units of activity. We conjure proactive strategies to keep both crises and illness at bay. Sometimes astrologers talk about the 6th as though they were nagging mothers, reminding us to make our beds and hang up our clothes. When this house is emphasized by transit, progression or solar return, modern astrologers advise: "Eat your vegetables, take your vitamins, exercise, quit smoking; streamline work routines, reduce your stress, get organized."

A few astrologers speak of the 6th in metaphysically trendier terms, a nod perhaps to its alchemical roots. They advise activities like spiritual centering, sacred ritual, discovering magic in mundane details. An emphasized 6th house by transit might prompt a need to bind the sacred to the ordinary. No doubt such statements would make Frawley squirm. But they do address a common 6th house problem. Mercury rules machines. In the 6th, we often act like one. When my progressed Moon entered the 6th, I suffered no monumental crises. My life revolved around work; my days were dull. If I suffered from anything, it was a lack of imagination. I hungered for a more magical perception of my days.

The 6th refers to daily time and how we spend it. Here most of us defer to the cultural norm which is to do time mechanically. We fill it with productive activity: We work. Most of us have no choice. This could indeed be the bad fortune the ancients were talking about! However, most of us would admit that working is not entirely bad. There is something in us that likes a regular structure in our days. Studies have shown that the most depressed individuals are not the ones who have nine-to-five jobs, but the ones who don'tthe unemployed, the infirm, the retiredthose who have nowhere to go and nothing to do. The ancients said that action-oriented Mars joys in this house. Our 6th house likes to be in motion. But does it carry the potential for magic too?

More and more, I find myself taking my cues from children. They are, of course, the undisputed masters of ordinary magic. Initially I laughed when my friend told me the following story about his threeyear-old Zack. Now I see it as a koan of 6th house wisdom. Zack has two toothbrushes: a blue one for bedtime, a green one for mornings. One morning Zack's dad inadvertently squeezed the toothpaste onto the blue toothbrush. Zack was undone. Thinking this was a good time to teach Zack flexibility, Dad tried to cajole him into brushing with the blue one. Zack threw such a fit, his father had to carry him down to the breakfast table, stiff and screaming, teeth unbrushed. The tantrum continued until Dad gave in. He carried Zack back up the stairs. They reeled the day back and started it over again, with the green toothbrush this time.

I thought my friend was raising an unusual child. Then I had a toddler of my own. Branden taught me the importance of childhood rituals: the right activity, with the proper objects, at the right time. When he was two, Branden had breakfast in the green chair, watched TV with the checkered pillow. Mom had to drink her coffee out of the mug with the bird on it, and Dad had to drop his keys on the top (not middle!) shelf. One morning Branden and I left the house after giving the dog one cookie instead of two. The relentless sobs from the back seat "dog cookie, dog cookie" meant I had to drive two blocks back home and right the wrong. I was not happy about this (something the dog knew instantly, cowering in disbelief as I stormed in to toss another cookie her way). That morning was one of those

"battles of wills" between parent and child that the old child-rearing books warn about. All is lost, they say, if the child "wins." Yet when I caught the look on Branden's face that morning, it wasnt triumph, but relief. His magic spell had been preserved. The day had started right.

This is the 6th house for a child, who has neither work nor health concerns, nor even a good grasp of time. Children experience the 6th through their organizing rituals. Adults have routines, but children have rituals. Rituals create energy; routines drain it. Rituals invite assistance from the invisible world. They serve a magical protective function acting as the garlic and sacred cross that keeps the 6th house vampires at bay. What draws a child to certain objects and sequences is a mystery, but the power of this attachment can't be denied. To children what happens in the present matters. The 6th house holds the personal holy rituals that give meaning to their world.

When children enter school, these meaningful attachments are gradually severed. Their unique experience of time is relinquished to society's more efficient rhythms. Personal magic gives way to productivity and practicality. The older one gets, the worse this becomes. The year I had my Sun plus four more planets in the 6th house of my solar return, my daily duties were overwhelming. I was hopping with productive, efficiently scheduled activity. I kept waiting for the avalanche of responsibilities to disappear. They never did. Towards the end of that year I heard Ray Merriman speak about the solar return 6th house Sun. He nailed me when he said, "These people have only themselves to blame. They over-schedule themselves, not realizing they should do the opposite: relax, float, and flow."

Merriman was suggesting that to balance the 6th, we should look to its opposing house, the 12th. This is the house belonging to the invisible world. It is Neptunes territory. To keep Mercurys efficiency in proper measure, we can evoke more Neptuneimagination, spirituality, the unconsciousness of dream. Just as our dreams carry images from our days, we might allow our days to remember images from our dreams.

Jung teaches there are two roots to psychological disease: the gods we forget to honor and the gods we overdo. Too much of Mercurys doing without Neptunes floating in the empty spaces makes "stress" a common 6th house syndrome. When Neptune is forgotten, this uninvited and quietly vengeful guest lies in wait, to throw us under his spell. Driving the freeway home, we suffer brief comas, waking up just minutes before the off-ramp arrives. We forget why we opened the refrigerator or entered the bedroom. Our bodies working like efficient machines, we go numb to the day. When we lose touch with our present, we fall prey to addictions. It's dishonored Neptune who puts the drink, the cigarette, the remote control in our hands.

If the 6th is a dull or harried house, perhaps we have only ourselves to blame. We might buy books like the Goddess in the Office. We might wear red on a Mars day, burn incense at night, or mime a few spells. But it's not finding the "right" magic ritual that will save us. It's finding the ability to attach to itto have what happens in the present matter

again. Im not suggesting we should throw tantrums like a child when our personal routines are disturbed. Rather let's balance Mercury with Neptune. Let's use our reason to preserve spiritual imagination. Like children, lets become the high priests and priestesses of our daily lives.

This is easy enough to say, but how is it really achieved? I dont think simple formulas will do, although Merriman was on to something. Ive noticed that those who do the 6th house well tend to have a good relationship with the 12th. They enjoy floating in the empty spaces, as well as being alert and absorbed when the work of the moment calls. Ive wondered if the sign on the 6th house cusp might prescribe ones optimum daily rhy thmand the best approach to 6th house crises. What I discovered was that most people move through the day in the style of their Ascendant. Ive got Virgo rising, which means I adore planning, making schedules and lists. "An hour for Tibetan prayers, another for reading, then onto my work," Ill tell myself. But then there are phone calls, emails to answer, the electrician who doesnt come when he said he would. Aquarius is on my 6th house cusp. Aquarius more accurately describes the unpredictable rhythms that I meet. Despite my best intentions, my Virgo plans usually break down. If the chart describes ones daily rhythm, its formula goes more like this: The Ascendant shows how you want the day to happen. The 6th describes how it actually does.

In most charts, the sign on the 1st house is inconjunct the sign on the 6th. Inconjuncts are an aspect of disequilibrium. They keep us off balance and require constant adjustments. This natural tension between the Ascendant and the 6th house cusp is like a perpetual motion machine, constantly returning us to the primary work of this house: Reality knocks and we must transform. In the 6th we break down experience and absorb its feedback. We improve our techniques and skills, urged forward towards a perhaps unattainable perfection. This marks the difference between a humans work and a machine's. It's impossible to write perfect articles, give perfect readings, or be a perfect mom. But I keep trying. The awareness of how I fall short is

often painful. Yet in the disequilibrium between my intent and its realization, I'm also urged forward again toward new techniques, approaches, understandings. All of this is unlike my computer, who performs its tasks the same way each time, never caring how theyre received.

The 6th is where we build mastery of our craft. We may want nothing less than consistent success, but disequilibrium is where the magic is. Creativity often springs from failure. We can learn from our 6th house crises. And isnt that the key to mastery of our life?

Imagesfotolia.com Notes:

1. 2.

John Frawley, The Real Astrology Applied (Apprentice Books, 2002), p.177. Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (CRCS Publications, 1972), pp. 90-91.

MOONPRINTS by Dana Gerhardt

Popular with readers of "The Mountain Astrologer" for almost two decades, this beautiful report takes an in-depth look at your emotional foundations. You will gain new insights into your birth moon - its phase, sign, aspects, and house. Discover your life purpose, hidden talents and danger zones through the moon's nodes. Use the moon to position yourself in time - through transits to the moon, your progressed moon sign and house, dates for two progressed lunation cycles, plus a year of new and full moons around your chart. You'll want to read every page of this report, designed to please both beginners and advanced students of astrology. Moonprints at mooncircles.com

The 7th House

by Dana Gerhardt

Dear April,

Writing about the 7th house of partnership, I don't trust myself. That is why, dear friend, I'm asking you to share my column. Not only are you happily married, you have an expressive 7th house Moon. If anyone can balance my approach, its you. You know how I squirm when clients request relationship readings, how I try talking them out of chart comparisons (Tell me--are Jake and I a perfect match?), and if they're insistent, why I refer them to you. The 7th house raises my guilty secret: I don't believe in soul mates. Searching for that perfect someone is (to me) as doomed as hunting down a unicorn or griffin.

You can see why I dont trust myself. Its a risky point of view. Most people call astrologers just to hear some good news about their soul mate (as in, Will the love -of-my-life be arriving soon?). I worry that my theories here are wrong. But I understand why people look for soul mates. Blame the 7th house. This is where we yearn for, and receive, "the other." It urges us to play duets. We strive to harmonize here, one-on-one, with not just one but a parade of significant others teachers and counselors, business colleagues and lovers. We can dance with these partners for just a moment, a season, or for all eternity. But through them we step outside ourselves. They provoke us to grow. Through 7th house people we become more whole. That sounds nice, but its often painful in practice, for the 7th isnt just a dance floor. Its a razor too, scraping the rough edges o ff our personalities. This is in the horoscopes design: our 7th house partners stand opposite our 1st house self. That is why the 7th rules open enemies as well as our "true loves." (And isn't it unfortunate how many true loves become open enemies in the end.)

So if by soul mate one means that idyllic partner who, just like us, loves anchovy sandwiches and hates The Lord of the Rings, who appreciates fine Italian marble and is undaunted by our moods, who understands us, as no one else can, then to hunt this person down in the house of opposites is a risky proposition. Its sad we often finish our romantic fairy tales hating our partners for the very reasons we were drawn to them in the first place.

But why should this be so?

It starts with the Ascendant, our first mask or rising sign. Heres the persona that worked best for us in our earliest environment. It represents but a fraction of our full potential, yet it draws a useful boundary (Im the kind of person who does this and would never do that.). As we crafted this story about ourselves, we had to do something with the rejected qualities that didn't fit our Ascendant myth. We gave them to the 7th house, to meet up with at a later date. This sets up our deep longing to retrieve what was unconsciously tossed away. When people wander on our stage carrying those potentials we repressed, what a mysterious and potent attraction we feel. Yet as we get to know them better, they grow strangely less desirable. Our entrenched resistance has emerged. Walk through any mall and youll hear the endless bickering of rising signs with their 7th house cusps.

Mr. Taurus Rising was once intrigued by his lovers mystery and depth (the forbidden fruits of Scorpio); now hes frightened by that brooding dark intensity. Ms. Capricorn Risings heart flutters at the nurturing sensitivity of her Cancerian prince, until before her eyes he transforms into a needy, childish frog. Alas the poor men whove been with me! My Virgo rising finds Pisces irresistible; Ive been drawn to poets, spiritual seekers, and musicians. We move in together and, Presto Change-o! Mr. Perfect is suddenly a lousy dreamerchaotic, impractical, and vague. If you look at the charts of any two people in partnership, youll find each holds a prominent echo of the others 7th house planets or sign. Thats the hook. But I confess: this is where my interest in chart comparisons ends. I could care less whether Jakes Venus trines Sues Mars. Its the natal chart that mostly makes and breaks relationships. Here are o ur rose-colored glasses and the paper bag pulled over our heads. Jake may be a lovely man, but if Sue cant get past her own projections, their love affair is doomed.

A good rule of thumb is that any individual who provokes us into a strong emotional response, who affects us, has unwittingly invited a shadow dance with our 7th house. Keep your wits. Hold your complaints at arms length and study them. Let them send you on a scavenger hunt for those very qualities inside yourself. Of course this spoils the fun of righteous indignation. But its worth the effort. You can actually do something about your deeper miserybeing internally out of balance. Left to my own devices, I see nothing Pisces-like in me. Im Virgo--analytical, organized,

efficient. But through my partners sundry imperfections, I gain a mirror into the parts of myself I hide. Imagine this: Ive discovered I can be forgetful, deceitful, and escapist too! Accepting my partner now gets a little easier. Whats more, embracing my darker Pisces side allows the positive one to emerge. I become more relaxed, more present, more at peace. Perhaps my partner, Robert, is my soul mate after all if by soul mate we mean those people who patiently provoke us into mating with the forgotten fullness of our s ouls.

The 7th house holds many stories. Another is told by its ruling planet. Its placement suggests a central or recurring theme in ones relationships. Someone with the 7th house ruler in the 10th of career might find her calling in her marriage, start a business with her partner, or go it solo, being married to her lifes work. My Descendant is ruled by a Libra Neptune in the 2nd house of money. I tend to make my financial relationships personal, and my personal relationships financial. This is as romantic as I ever got about marriage: "Darling, we can save money together and buy a house!" And on that dream two of my long-term relationships spun and then dissolved. Neptune has been quite the trickster: its raised my income as if by magic, but its disso lved my partners funds. All three have traveled to the verge of bankruptcy.

Money was the central fact in my parents relationship: they argued about it constantly. Dad let money slip through his fingers; mom had a green thumb to make it grow. Only recently did I notice my 7th house cusp lies trapped within six opposing planets in my parents' charts. There I've always been, a small fish, stuck in that long net those two fishing trawlers dropped in my unconscious sea. Aren't we all subject to the power of our marriage myth? By "marriage myth" I mean that story of our parents' pairing. Those early gods in our unconscious kingdom held as much sway as Zeus and Hera ever did. We can decode the Ascendant by looking at the story of our birth. Perhaps we can unravel the Descendants mysteries by looking at our marriage myth.

Here's my parents' story: Neither claims to have known happiness in love. They married and divorced each other twice. My father left my mother when I was eight; she left him when I was fourteen. They stayed together after that, buying homes together, sometimes living together, in a cranky business partnership that recently meant living in separate homes in the same town. Never did I plan to repeat their unhappiness, but my relationships have been mostly cranky too. They ended at intervals that echoed my parents, the first after eight years, the second after

fourteen. As happened with my mother, my mate left me the first time, I left him the second. Now Im in an LAT relationship, what my friend suggests the Europeans do, living apart together. She says it like its trendy and continental, but I know better: its exactly what my parents did in their later years. Yikes.

Thank goodness theres more to the 7th than marriage alone. Interestingly, t his is the one house on which modern and traditional astrologers wholly agree. Both assign it to relationships, though in horary astrology, the 7th can describe any old other we might be curious about. One such other important to my self -employed clients is potential customers. Rarely do astrologers talk about developing a clientele as a 7th house matter. It's typically seen as a 10th house marketing challenge. But isnt this a relationship issue too? Over the years Ive heard a number of unsuccessful astrologers complain that its their potential clients who are to blame: "This screwed -up town won't support a decent astrologer!" (Note the emotion. Could a projection be at play?) What do you think, April, after starting your own practice fresh, in three towns in a little over three years?

My first year as an astrologer was a lonely one. If the phone rang once in six weeks, it was a busy month. My daily visit to the PO Box was just to catch that once-a-month query should it arrive that day. I was advertising, perhaps in the wrong places, but in retrospect, I think the real problem was with my 7th house: I wasnt ready for these relationships! Above ground I was begging for clients; below ground I was terrified. What could they possibly want from me?! Whatever it was, I knew I couldnt give it to them. My resistance was stronger than my desire. Its the same when an astrologer suggests new love is on the horizon and the client returns a year later complaining no one ever showed. I know it sounds like a convenient rationale for the failed prediction; nonetheless, its a pretty safe bet: this person had a Keep Out! sign on their 7th house.

I began attracting more clients once I made a key decision: I told myself I would only deal with the type of people Id like as friends. Perhaps this simply took the edge off my terror, but in truth, this is exactly who showed up. Over the years I noticed another curious phenomenon: most of the charts showed that my clients were highly intuitive. This is of course a Pisces quality (ie, my 7th house). The 7th suggests the kind of people well attract; whats more, it tells the purpose of our meeting. I gradually adjusted my practice to tease out what my intuitive clients already knew. Together we explore their feelings, unconscious symbols, and their rich imaginations. In other words, we have a Pisces tea party! I provide the cups. Theyre the ones who bring the tea.

But enough of my 7th house stories. Now it's time for yours!

Fondly, Dana

Dear Dana,

Ok, I confessI love the 7th house! Your wonderful hypothesis notwithstanding and I can certainly appreciate the theorymy 7th house doesn't seem to be the repository of my least-loved traits. Philosopher, clown, know-it-all: certainly, I am my Sagittarius Ascendant. Journalist, gossip, communicator: I claim the traits of my Gemini Descendant, even as I am happy to have found them in my nearest and dearest.

I was, however, intrigued by your concept of the 7th house "marriage myth" and its impact on our expectations of marriage; it provided a wealth of insight when applied to my own chart. Mercury rules my 7th, and third house/Mercury/Gemini concerns (communication, letters, even cars) figure prominently in my myth. I have only a handful of memories of my parents together, because my father died when I was young. But I remember the sound of their voices from their bedroom down the hall, soothing me to sleep as they rehashed the dayvoices, that sweetest of Gemini lullabies!and the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, chatting and laughing easily with one other. One summer my mother took my siblings and me on vacation, while Dad stayed behind to get the crops in. Many years later I ran across a bundle of letters he wrote to her while we were awaybeautiful, sensitive, funny letters. The kind you write to your best friend. My Gemini Descendant expectation: The person you marry should be your best friend and confidant. My relationship with my husband was founded over long chats over coffee. In fact, all the important relationships in my life can be traced back to a common Gemini source: conversation.

But there is, ultimately, a tragic ending (my 7th house Moon squares Pluto) to my myth. One day Zeus topples off a cloud (or dies in a car accident, in the case of my dad), leaving Hera without her best friend. What do you do with a script like that, when you're young and impressionable? I opted for a series of romantic relationships with built-in expiration dates. "Oh, he'll be leaving to go off to jail." "He's a zillion years old, he'll die long before me." I could plan on the leaving, you see? I felt a sense of control (there's that Moon/Pluto again). And my romantic projection loosely based on my parents' situationwas that you only open up to someone when you're sure they're going to leave you.

When I did eventually find my best friend and confidant, I was immediately in a bind: I didn't want to live without him, but on the other hand, he lacked a clearly-defined expiration date! I was terrified by the lack of control. To be happily married I had to get past my fear of being left, and learn to trust and love someone whose estimated time of departure is not well-defined.

As for how all this relates to clientshow would I know, this crummy town won't support a decent astrologer! (Hyuck hyuck). Oh hell, Dana, I don't know. I sort of subscribe to the "read everybody" school of astrology a dragnet approach. Works well when you move a lot. I figure, if I see enough people, by sheer dint of numbers I'll end up with a clientele. And a varied one, at thatgotta keep that Gemini Moon happy!

Whereas your positionto only have clients whom you'd want as friends sounds wise and perfect for you. A Pisces Descendant has only one speed in relationship: total immersion. It's lovely, but exhausting, I'm sure. So you're wise to be discerning (helpful Virgo Ascendant!) about your clientele, because you honor the fact that each consultation subtly changes your cosmic DNA in some profound fashion. Each of your consultations is a beautiful, soulful, artistic little gemsound Piscean? Whereas for my Gemini Descendant, each consultation is an opportunity to play Barbara Walters"Let's talk about you!" I just find people incredibly interesting. I like to hear their stories, and then tell their stories back to them in a way that, hopefully, helps them get some perspective on their situation. But I don't necessarily become one with them.

I guess if I'm honest, my interactions with clients are the ultimate "built-in expiration date" relationships. ("They'll be leaving in 90 minutes. It's ok to open up.") In applying my "marriage myth" to this other kind of 7th house relationship, it's easy for me to see why I occasionally find myself in power struggles with clients, usually over the issue of time. I can't stand it when people are late, don't show up, don't send payments on time. I feel a lack of control, and the ensuing power struggles serve to remind me that in order to let others impact me, I have to get past the safety barrier of expiration dates and make peace with powerlessness.

There is a time-honored astrological chestnut that claims that the 7th house describes the kind of partners we'll have, and I don't discount that. But it seems to me there is another dimension to the 7th house: namely, that it's a portrait of what others encounter when they enter into close partnership or enmity with us the kind of relationship environment we provide for others.

For instance, although you focus on the fierce emotional pragmatism of your Virgo Ascendant, Dana, I don't experience you that way. I can see you that waythat is, if I observe your personality, I can see the meticulous, down-to-earth side of your nature--but that is not the side of you I experience in relating with you. What I feel, in stepping into your Piscean 7th house, is Timelessness. In relating to you, lovely friend, I step into a garden of fun, imagining, free associating, andwonderfully, gloriouslywasting time. It's like a wonderful mini-vacation having a long chat with you, or reading one of your letters. It's play. And this is an often forgotten aspect of the Pisces experienceliving ecstatically in the moment. Enjoying the process.

Once someone enters our 7th house (whether as spouse, business partner, or mortal foe), they experience a side of us which is often very different from the initial, welcome-mat Ascendant version of our personality. In sifting with us through the rubble of our rejected dreams, impulses, and personality traits, and mirroring us back to ourselves through our own 7th house, our partners are like Peter Pan's Wendy, sewing Peter's shadow back on: they "sew" the shadow (7th house) self back onto our personality (Ascendant) and make us whole again.

I see the Descendant as a screen through which all the other issues we bring to a relationship must pass. Having rounded up potential relationship candidates, we "interview" them and, based on our Descendant expectations, promote a select few to our 7th house. Perhaps we even charge a gate fee, expecting our partners to act out one or more planets in our own 7th as their price of admission. In the end, does this mean we choose a succession of partners with whom we enact the same relationship patterns over and over again? Maybe. Or maybe we learn to make peace with the Descendant qualities we find.

Saturn's natural exaltation in the 7th house implies that we're responsible for creating the 7th house environment that we want. But it's frustrating to keep running into the same blockages time and time again on the way to formulating satisfying relationships! It's maddening to feel that no matter how hard you try to change, you're doomed to repeat the same old unsuccessful relationship patterns. And the last thing we want to hear when we're frustrated and maddened is that we alone are responsible for changing an unsatisfactory situation. Instead of being empowered by that perspective, and accepting the challenge of reconciling with our shadow self, we insist that others validate our conviction that the universe is picking on us!

My 7th house Moon has made me a life-time student of relationships, and has placed me in the role of astrological "Dear Abby" more times than I can count. Even so, Dana, I by no means have a definitive "take" on the 7th house. But I feel, and I think you would agree, that it minimizes the 7th to call it simply the house of "finding others"; just as legitimately, it is the house of finding ourselves through their eyes. But if you think the 7th house was a toughie... wait 'til you tackle the eighth house in your next column!

Yours, April

April Elliott Kent is an astrologer, writer, and website designer in San Diego, California. Along with readings by phone and in person, April offers customized reports based on her astrological specialties, wedding date electionals and natal eclipse cycles. April's writing has appeared in The Mountain Astrologer and Wholistic Astrologer magazines, and she is a contributor to Llewellyn's 2005 Moon Sign Book.

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the moon has a powerful influence on daily life, but few are tuned in. If you want to increase your sensitivity to the lunar rhythm, this is the workshop for you. Every month before the New Moon, you'll receive a 26-page workbook, personalized to your birth chart and current location. You'll learn about the astrology particulars-the new moon and solar ingress, how these influence your chart, along with moon phases, moon voids, moon signs and house transits. Throughout the cycle, you'll be guided into an ever more intimate appreciation for the moon's workings in your life Twelve Moon

The 9th House

by Dana Gerhardt

I like to think of the 9th house as a happy place. Heres where we don lederhosen, toss a knapsack on our back, and stride gaily through the wide world, singing as we go, Valderee, Valderah, Valderee, Valderah -ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Here we feel adventurous and free. The 9th holds our personal Alps, where the spirit soars, the mind expands, and life acquires new meaning. The 9th takes us to uncharted territories and gifts us with new perspectives. It rules travel to faraway places, higher education, religion, philosophy, mysticism, divination, and publishing endeavors that increase our understanding and broaden the scope of our lives. When there is a 9th house emphasis by transit, progression or solar return, we might get justifiably excited: A new adventure is on the way! Rarely do we worry about planets in this happy house.

The year my Aunt Nancy had five planets in the 9th house of her solar return, she read voraciouslyabout past lives, auras and astral travel. She listened to talk radio shows about mediums, the spirit world and UFOs. She pondered the meaning of life, the lessons of her three marriages. She soared on the airways of her mind. Clearly she was experiencing her 9th house. Thats because she had no choice. Shortly after her birthday, she was hit by a car. She spent most of that year lying flat on her back in bed.

My friend with the 9th house Sun says his happiest memories are the two times he hit the road, without plan, letting serendipity chart his course. The first time Dave traveled with a hitchhikers thumb and knapsack. Fourteen years later he took to the road in a customized van complete with Nintendo and a mini-refrigerator. What launched his two adventures? Was it 9th house wanderlust? No. Hed been stunned by the two great setbacks of his life. The first came when Saturn conjoined his Sun. Daves wife left himfor a woman. Fourteen years later Saturn opposed his Sun. He was fired from the company he had helped to build for the past ten years. Both times his solar identity cracked. Ninth house wandering was how he put himself together again.

Expatriates often have significant placements in their natal 9th. Astrology concurs that such individuals might find their fortunes far from home. My foreign-born clients with 9th house planets often do seem free-spirited, broadminded, and adventurous. Andre emigrated from France in his early twenties and never went back home. With a 9th house Moon, he loves travel, philosophy, politics, and women. He has an incredible joie dvivre. But the year a crisis threatened to return him to his homeland, he told me several horrific childhood stories. Andre left France because he needed to put thousands of miles between himself and his family.

When the 9th is strong in a chart, natally or by transit, we should get curious about whats motivating those planets. Perhaps its a simple urge for adventu re, a desire to cruise around the world, find ones guru, expand ones future with a university degree. Or perhaps the individual has paid a "world -upsidedown" tuition fee, had her passport stamped by crisis. The days after President Bushs re -election, I was stunned to hear so many of my blue state friends threatening to leave for Canada, New Zealand, the south of France. Would they leave everything behind because of an election? As the weeks progressed, most calmed down. I came to understand their initial reaction as a knee-jerk 9th house response. When the hammer falls, we take out the map and look for a new frontier. Theres nothing like a distant horizon to repair a shattered soul. Whenever we reach a personal limit, after a divorce, a career gone ba d, when life doesnt turn out as we hoped it would, to the 9th house well go. Well take a trip. Well return to school. Well seek advice from a 9th house personan astrologer, lawyer, or priest. Well pray for Gods blessings. As we go through the outer 9th house motions, inwardly were reaching, stretching and struggling to acquire a new perspective on our world.

The 9th encourages our quest for meaning in life. But generally we dont go there until life falls apart. Few of us retire gaily to our dens to pen our personal philosophies. Something upends us and starts our questioning. There is an astrological connection between the 9th house and crisis. The 9th follows the 8th house of death and dissolution. In the 8th the ground is razed, monsters crawl up from the basement, our identities are stripped and laid bare. Something weve held onto dies. At such moments, we raise our eyes and seek a higher powers grace. We want to connect with something greater than ourselves. Would we look for the gods if our tummies were full and life were constantly joyful?

The 9th rules the literature of spirit, the metaphors, symbols and myths that bind a culture, its moral codes, its shared ideals and visions. No other house speaks so eloquently of the dignity and intelligence of the human spirit. The 9th is a decidedly human house. What other species builds temples and

universities or courts of law? Perhaps what most distinguishes humankind from the animals is our capacity for abstract thought. We look for underlying patterns, the overarching laws of Nature. We try to master our fates, predicting and planning for the futurebased on our experience of the past or what we can divine from portentous symbols. Animals live in the present. Through language and imagery, we humans travel in time, building on the foundations of past lessons, drawing new futures out of imagination's pocket.

Yet we pay a heavy price for this gift. Knowledge of time also brings awareness of the inevitability of death. And this knowing throws us into an anxious, insecure, even terrified condition. Fear is an unexpected by-product of our awareness of time. As my dog lies peacefully on the couch, I worry about the future, about paying my bills, about dying someday, about watching a loved one die. My dog is blissfully ignorant of the daily news. But as I watch the pictures from Iraq, or Albuquerque for that matter, I wonder, why such suffering? What does it all mean? Against the suffering and impermanence of life, we seek a more enduring grace. Our 9th ideas feed our spirit. Our religious and cultural institutions promise that something good will survive after our last breath. Were comforted by the belief that when we do die, we will pass into something rather than nothing. By making sense of death, the 9th gives new meaning to our existence. Thats why I consider this a happy house. This is where we refill our cupswith dignity, hope, and joy.

We seek truth in the 9th house. But what we get there are beliefs, an entirely different matter. Its opposite, the 3rd house, is built on facts. The 9th is knit with theories and opinions. While its ideals can open up new worlds, they can also shut our borders and lock us into conflict. The 9th rules higher mind, but this can be any belief that guides us. It becomes our personal religion, and religions can cause more wars than peace. Discussing belief systems with clients is tricky work. Their beliefs will come up in almost every reading. But you cant predict them in advance, nor pry troublesome ones loose with any ea se.

Lets say you have a client with the Sun, Mars, and Uranus in the 9th house of her solar return. Shes going to be (Sun), act (Mars), and change (Uranus) in 9th house ways. You start with outer options. Are you doing any traveling this year? No. Are you going back to school? Nuh-uh. Are you doing any teaching or publishing? Your client shakes her head. A little desperate now, Are you involved in a lawsuit? Joining a monastery? Immersed in

philosophy? Your client is wondering why her friend recommended you. Youre wondering why her solar return chart is garbage. Quickly you move on to what your client really wants to talk about: My husband is an ass. There are no transits to relationship planets or houses in her natal chart. Why is marriage o n her mind? Whats going on in her SR 9th house? Why is her SR 7th house empty?

Along with houses 7 and 8, the 9th house is in the relationship quadrant of the horoscope. As Howard Sasportas writes, The 1st house is I am while the opposite house, the 7th is We are. The 2nd is I have and its opposite, the 8th is We have. Correspondingly, the 3rd is I think and the 9th is We think.1

When a husband and wife discover they think or more preciselybelieve differently, they have a 9th house problem. I dont necessarily mean that shes a Catholic and hes a Buddhist. Lets say her husband believes cheating means having physical sex with someone; everything else is harmless fun. But she believes that cheating is anything you do in secret with another woman, including hopping onto pornographic websites or sending salacious emails to online partners. When she discovers hes been indulging his sexual fantasies in cyberspace, she learns that what I think is not what we think. Another way to look at it is the 9th house is the 3rd house from the relationship 7th. The 3rd house describes the mental environment of the 1st house self the 9th house describes the mental environment of the 7th house relationship. When there is a disturbance in this environment, a conflict between one partners ideals and anothers, the solar return will reflect this with planets in the 9th.

Conflicting values are among the most difficult relationship problems to resolve. Its hard enough discussing 9th house subjects with friends. Steve has Uranus and Pluto in the 9th house. Weve had countless debates. Like many with difficult planets here, Steve had a 9th house monkey to get off his back. Raised in a strict Christian household, he traveled a straight and narrow path, living clean ly to keep in Gods good graces. In his early twenties, his progressed Moon entered the 9th house. Not surprisingly, he was studying at a university. But he was troubled. He was living at home, had no girlfriend, no sense of the future, and none of the rewards he expected the Christian life would bring. He became bitter and suspicious, not just of Christianity, but of any religion. By the time I met him, he was fond of quoting Marx: "Religion is the opiate of the masses."

I reminded him of the lines that come before that famous sentence. Marx actually said, "Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of the heartless world, and the soul of the soulless condition. It is the opiate of the masses." Prayers are not the only opiate, I pointed out, also political manifestoes, all philosophy, art and literaturethe many ways we brace ourselves against the incomprehensible sufferings of life. My friend wrapped himself in existentialist despair. "Okay, so if we just make it all up, then what's the point? If there is no God, no 'something else,' it's all a lie, and life is just plain meaningless." There was both anger and triumph in his voice. There was no use getting him to see the irony of his own religion, that his nihilism was how he'd written meaning into his life. Our debate fizzled because neither of us was willing to change. Several years later, when the progressed Moon again entered Steves 9th house, he sent me an email from faraway India. His 9th house horizons had expanded. He was traveling with a quantum physics professor who was introducing him to a new religion. I now know God is consciousness, Steve wrote, existing everywhere in everything!

The 9th is a cadent house. In cadent houses we adapt to changing circumstances. We are acted upon by the world and we must adjust. No matter how certain our beliefs at any time, we should remember theyre not fixed. Do you still believe what you believed when you were 12? Twenty-four? Forty-two? If your client is stuck with a limiting belief, shes calling because she needs a door opened in her 9th. The sign on her 9th house cusp wont tell you what she does or what she should believe. But it can tell you how she holds her beliefs and how you can help her shift to one more workable. Water signs will need you to speak to their feelings. Earth signs will want you to speak in practical, tangible terms. Fire signs want to be inspired. Air signs will enjoy the play of ideas. Sometimes the best assistance you can offer is simply naming what feels like truth as a belief. Lets say your client or friend is in a relationship with an unfaithful husband. Shes miserable. Its slowly killing her, but she cant bring herself to leave. After some discussion, the underlying belief comes out. Im afraid that Brian is my last chance. If I leave him, Ill never find love again.

To help someone dismantle a limiting belief, questions work better than lectures. Thats because the transformation must happen inside that person rather than come from you. Questions help till the mental soil so a new thought can

take root. But empathy is important. I can see how youd feel that way, and how scary it would be to live alone for the rest of your life. Until your friend or client feels heard, she wont relax enough to shift he r thinking. Hold her truth respectfully in the space between you. Then ask another question. How do you know for sure that youll never meet someone new? What evidence tells you this is true? Usually theres no rational evidence for such beliefs. Of cour se its every astrologers dream to find a lovely Venus/Sun progression in such a persons future. Youd like to say you know for sure that shell find true love next June. But you cant prove futures with astrology. You can only make an educated guess. And if a person doesnt believe that love is possible, her Venus/Sun progression might arrive as a box of chocolates or a delightful shopping spree.

I know that women my age dont often find romance. And good men are always hard to find. One of the advanta ges of being an astrologer is you that know plenty of real-life examples to disprove such dismal logic. Just last week I talked with a woman who met her soul mate at sixty-two. She had no idea thats what would happen when she divorced at fifty-five. What would change for you if you believed new love was possible? How would you act? What would you do? Well I guess I wouldnt feel so weak. Maybe Id lose some weight. Id start doing some of the things Ive always wanted to do, like taking that metal sculpting class, and seeing if I could get my poetry published. You hear a new strength in her voice and reflect that back. Spend some time in the spaciousness of this new belief. You cant force people to change their thinking. But you can pluck a thread loos e from their personal religion, and hope that after the conversation, their perceived limitations will continue to unravel.

As a writer, my own confidence routinely wavers. When inspiration disappears, my belief becomes Im just no good and should give it up. During one such season, I did what I encourage my clients to do. I called an astrologer, James Braha, a Vedic practitioner. He said my Vedic chart confirmed that writing was my destiny; no bad planets were standing in the way. Nonetheless, I was stuck. "Perhaps it's the lack of confidence in your 12th house Moon," Braha suggested. The Vedic remedy? A Hindu ceremony known as a nava graha (or, nine planets) yagya.

I had heard of this ceremony. You pay some money, a priest in India chants for a while, and your problems disappeargroovy! Here was foreign travel and religious ritual rolled into one, and I could do it all with a credit card and phone number! "No," Braha cautioned, "you should do it in person. These are powerful ceremonies. But if the priest gets interrupted, it won't take. Check the yellow pages and find a local temple."

I arrived at a temple in the hills above Malibu on a Monday, the Moon's day. It was an auspicious waxing Moon. I had the items I'd been instructed to bring: two coconuts, two pounds of rice, 25 sticks of wood, a pack of camphor, a pack

of incense, a pound of ghee, some assorted fruit, a bouquet of flowers, and a check for $101 made out to the temple. I was given a receipt and told to hand it to one of the two priests sitting by Shiva's shrine.

There was just one priest. When I produced my receipt, he scowled, then hollered in a foreign tongue, perhaps calling the other priest who was nowhere to be found. I was told to sit near the fire pit. Grumpy, the priest unpacked my rice and other items and poured them in a silver bowl. He instructed me in placing the fruit and flowers. He started the fire, then, in somewhat broken English, confessed he had a headache from praying in the morning sun. Braha had said nothing about a headache ruining the ceremony, but I was beginning to wonder.

The priest lit the fire and began chanting. Then he looked at me expectantly. I was supposed to do something? Yes, I was supposed to repeat the strange Sanskrit words. I took a deep breath. Real Hindu devotees were coming and going all around us. I felt like an idiot tourist, then made a split-second decision to abandon myself to the experience. Over the next hour, I chanted with passion, threw incense and ghee into the fire at the appointed moments (unfortunately I had brought oil-treated kindling sticks which flamed up so vigorously they nearly singed the priest's brows). I circled the fire pit nine times, bowed up and down nine times. Then the dreaded event occurred: the other priest arrived and interrupted us!

Did it matter? Lost in the ceremony, I had almost forgotten why I was there, until the priest, friendlier now, instructed me to ask the planets for what I wanted. I closed my eyes, tried to formulate the words carefully. Suddenly I felt such a powerful in-rush of energy, I was almost knocked off my feet. It was brief, but it was strong.

What happened after the ceremony surprised me. No shafts of light poured from the heavens, no divine voice thundered in my head. I did not run to my computer and start typing. But by the end of that day, a new conviction had quietly stolen in to replace my lack of confidence. I had a different perspective on my work. I hadn't reached this in any logical way. Id leapt somewhere, but how? Perhaps its just this mystery that makes the 9th house so appealing -how your world can change with just an idea, a prayer, or a strange ritual. What is this power we petition here? Why has every civilization made offerings to it? How has this power poured into us as new concepts, moral guidance, art that endures for centuries? Certainly our 9th house beliefs can trap us and draw a curtain on our growth. They also

can take us so far beyond ourselves that we conceive ourselves anew. Thats why mankind is so devoted to the 9th, connecting with God, searching for answers, believing in miracles. There is much in this house to ponder. And definitely much to love.

Notes:

1.

Howard Sasportas, The Twelve Houses (The Aquarian Press, 1985), p. 85.

MOONPRINTS by Dana Gerhardt

Popular with readers of "The Mountain Astrologer" for almost two decades, this beautiful report takes an in-depth look at your emotional foundations. You will gain new insights into your birth moon - its phase, sign, aspects, and house. Discover your life purpose, hidden talents and danger zones through the moon's nodes. Use the moon to position yourself in time - through transits to the moon, your progressed moon sign and house, dates for two progressed lunation cycles, plus a year of new and full moons around your chart. You'll want to read every page of this report,

The 10th House

by Dana Gerhardt

"I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody-instead of a bum, which is what I am."

Who among us does not ache with Marlon Brando, as the has-been prizefighter Terry Malloy, when he utters these famous lines in On the Waterfront? Every astrological house has its secret anguish. In the 10th house it's failure, the discovery that we didn't make good on our dreams. I'll never forget the chilling confession of one of my high school English teachers, the one with the impressive Jesuit education and the faint smell of alcohol always on his breath. He stared at his folded hands one day and quietly told me that his life was second rate: "I settled for a second rate job, a second rate wife, a second rate home, and second rate kids." I stammered a vague reply. But inwardly I vowed-as perhaps he did at my age?-that I would never do the same.

What you make of yourself is a 10th house matter. The 10th describes your career, your public reputation, your worldly status. It suggests your optimum contribution to society, the qualities for which you'd like to be admired and respected. To investigate the "name" you might make for yourself, look to planets in the 10th and the sign on your 10th house cusp. The cusp of the 10th is known as the "Midheaven," one of the four important angles of the chart. Early Egyptian astrologers associated these angles with the daily circuit of the Sun. The Ascendant signified sunrise; the Descendent, sunset; the bottom of the chart, or the IC, midnight; and the Midheaven at the top, high noon, when the Sun reaches maximum glory and strength. The Midheaven represents the Sun's culmination, its highest reach on the day you were born. Correspondingly, it signifies how high you can go this lifetime. But it doesn't say how high you will. And therein lies the drama. The 10th describes how society measures your life. Are you a hero? Or a bum.

So intimately is the 10th house tied to success or failure, we can use it to predict success in simple horary questions. Whatever the endeavor ("Will I succeed on my test tomorrow?"), assess the relationship between the planet signifying the questioner and the planet ruling the 10th house cusp. Good aspects promise a good result. But the natal chart is not nearly so definitive. Planets in (or ruling) the natal 10th don't assure us of anything. They will be prominent, but for what reason, and how widely they'll be seen, is much less clear. The Moon in the 10th could make you famous. Or notorious. Your face could be on the cover of People magazine. Or the neighbors could discover you sleeping in the hedges as they drive off to work.

The 10th shows how others see us-especially those who don't know us too well. It suggests our reputation among acquaintances, bosses and coworkers, our mother's book club, distant relatives, strangers too. We don't care enough about these people to get to know them better. Yet if their opinion of us is poor, it will bother us greatly. We care about our public image. And it's nice to have an impressive 10th house calling card. Walk through any graveyard,

however, and the 10th house quickly loses its importance. You won't see "wealthy banker," "top insurance salesman," or "the sexiest guy on the block" etched onto any headstone. All the worldly success people struggle for and achieve dissolves at the cemetery into more personal descriptions: "beloved husband," "loving mother," "devoted sister." These terms belong to the house opposite the 10th, the 4th, which rules not only family, but endings. In deathbed scenes, people rarely express regret or gather comfort from their life's career choices. They don't wish for a little extra time to finish up that memo or earn another few thousand dollars. Rather, they wonder if they loved well enough, if they used their time to touch life deeply enough, if they traveled far enough on the spiritual path. Rarely do the dying obsess about 10th house things.

Yet among the living, preoccupation with the 10th is perhaps unmatched by any other house (except of course the 7th of relationships). Career matters are often the reason people schedule readings. "What's my life direction? Is it time for a change? Am I in the right field?" Into the 10th we're pushed and prodded more than any other area of life. Meet someone new and you can't help asking a 10th house question: "What do you do for a living?" And if that person is young: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" When Branden was in my womb I vowed not to torment him with this line of inquiry until he was at least 27. I know many people at ages 37, 47, even 57, who still don't know what to do with their lives. Yet parents will often ask astrologers to look at a child's chart and divine what Junior will be when he grows up. Why apply the pressure so soon?

As with many of the things I vowed not to do with my own child (like threatening Santa Claus would skip our house if Branden didn't go to sleep on Christmas Eve. it was two in the morning), I succumbed. There I was, walking with my dog and my then 3-year-old Branden. The red-tailed hawks floated in wide circles above us, the curious ravens rattled and cawed from the eucalyptus trees. Suddenly, the dreaded question came out of my mouth: "So, uh, what are you going to be when you grow up?" Branden's expression was blank, so I

offered a few suggestions. "A fireman?" "Yes," he said. "Or how about a trash truck driver?" "Mm-hmm." "A space man?" "Sure." Part of me felt defeated that I'd asked. And part of me felt this was exactly what we should be talking about. Giving my son a sense of destination seemed a responsible plan.

Perhaps it's not the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" that's so bad. It's the expectation of nailing down an answer. I like what Bill Herbst has to say about it: "The question is relevant whether one's age is nine or ninety, for 'adulthood' usually seems oddly far off, in the distance yet to come."1 This is especially true for the always-a-child Pluto in Leos; for them, being four or forty can feel strangely similar. Their Pluto in Cancer parents would select a career in their twenties and stick with it until retirement. Pluto in Libras and Pluto in Virgos are being advised to prepare for a future of two or three different careers, in order to keep pace with the changing world ahead of them. Whatever the generation, where is it written that we're supposed to answer the 10th house question just once? This is the house of destiny, after all. When you look at a real life, it's clear that several destinies can appear in the course of it.

I have a friend with Neptune closely conjunct his Libra Midheaven. He is currently in the enviable position of having reached one of the few goals of his life: to retire in his early forties with a six-figure income. Yet, surprisingly, Gabriel recently admitted that reaching that milestone hasn't made him particularly happy. Nor does it much delight or impress his friends, who seem oddly uncomfortable with him. This is partly due to the circumstances surrounding his retirement. Gabe's career dissolved with scandal and betrayal, resulting in a lawsuit against the former business partners with whom he shared ownership of his company. This brought on a severe depression during which Gabe virtually disappeared from the world. He is beyond that funk now, and though his friends don't much press him, to each other they frequently pose the question, "So, what is he going to do with his life now?!"

As the most elevated planet in a chart, the one closest to the Midheaven exerts a potent influence on an individual's life. When Gabriel was born, Neptune took position as sentry to all his future 10th house passages. Neptune works with veils, sometimes idealizing, sometimes disguising material realities. Neptune acts by dissolving, quite different from the confident structuring we usually want for 10th house activities. Scandal, betrayal, disillusionment and dropping out of the world are certainly Neptune-appropriate themes. Gabe's business was Neptunian too-advertising and marketing-fields that invent fantasies and sell them to consumers.

Gabe's early retirement wasn't the first time Neptune wrote itself into his life script. A decade or so earlier, Gabe left his position as a successful brand manager for one of the top packaged goods companies in the country. He voluntarily dropped out of corporate America to work at a dive shop in Mexico, under another cloud of betrayal. His

fiance had been lying and cheating on him. Here was Neptune again, dissolving one public persona, and summoning him to another. To recover and renew himself, Gabe led tourists on dives into Neptune's sea. He knew nothing about his chart, but there was that planet, guiding his choices again. Is it cosmic chance, comedic fate, or a kind of divine love that keeps drawing these planetary energies so vividly into our dramas, timing their unfolding too?

When Neptune and Uranus conjoined in the early 90's, they squared Gabe's Midheaven/Neptune exactly, bringing the sudden change, disillusionment, and disappearance that followed. Astrologers interpreted the sudden changes the Uranus/Neptune conjunction brought as somehow necessary, liberating even, despite their sometimes trauma or shock. Gabriel's experience of the transit was no exception. Though he hadn't planned on leaving his company so soon, for as long as I'd known him he seemed unhappy in his 10th house corporate role. Neptune on his Midheaven had always been hard for me to reconcile with his businessman image: "You should be a poet or a mystic, or a liar and alcoholic" I would tease. The latter was not too far off. He drank alcohol and smoked pot heavily. In the final months at his company, rumors about his substance abuse and mood swings were high. His psyche was begging him to shift his professional course.

Like a stone falling slowly through water, a planet in a house drops through all the years of our experience there. It will somehow touch us at each life stage. Gabe's earliest experience of his Neptune Midheaven was at seventeen months-he lost his father. In a child's chart, the 10th represents the parents. Neptune here suggests some loss, confusion, or deception with one's parents. Modern astrology designates the 10th as the father's house; traditional astrology says it's the mother's. An in-between view is that this house describes the "shaping parent," the one with the greatest influence on that child's social persona. In Gabe's case, both parents were clothed in Neptune's garb. One day, Gabe's mom left her husband a good-bye note on the kitchen table and took the kids a thousand miles away. Gabriel didn't meet his real dad again until many years later, at his Saturn return. When Gabe was six, his mother remarried. Cornering him in his bedroom, her instructions were emphatic: Gabe was never to let anyone know, under any circumstance, that her new husband was not his real dad.

This is Gabriel's first memory of a Neptune family message he would hear many times: Hide who you are. He adopted his stepdad's last name. Here was Neptune again, for "Harper" wasn't even a real family name. It was the stage name of his step-grandad, who had tried to make it as a Hollywood actor under that handle and failed.

A planet in a house is a cosmic transmitting station. It draws down that energy from the cosmos, and through us, sends it out again. Gabe claims he can't remember much of his childhood (Neptune can stimulate the imagination and depress one's consciousness). Gabe does remember figuring out the smartest policy was to pick a neutral corner and stay out of the way. Watching his older sister on the losing end of many battles with his judgmental, look-goodon-the-outside mother, he learned how to hide. With Libra on his Midheaven he got good at hiding in a charming, sociable way. He discovered how to be what people wanted him to be. He carried a world inside his head that rarely spilled outside of it. Given Gabriel's 10th house, he might have been an artist or a spiritual devotee. Like an artist, he has a rich inner life. Like a mystic, he can be in the world, but not of it. Yet Gabe spent most of his professional life hiding his true nature. This was the child's 10th house strategy, not the expression of a confident adult.

Whatever the sign in your 10th house, add the adjective "professional" and that's what you should be when you grow up. If you've got Gemini on the Midheaven, you should aspire to become a "professional Gemini." Be talkative, be curious, be versatile. Be a good listener. Tell lots of stories. Surprise people with your multiple skills. These requirements can serve you well in lots of occupations. But be advised: Gemini traits can make you unsuccessful too. Perhaps you can't stop gossiping. You can't pick a single direction and commit. Maybe you're too restless to finish what you start. You change your mind so much, no one trusts you with a responsible position.

How do you ensure your expression of your 10th house is a positive one? Whatever the sign in your 10th house, you've got to grow your professional image beyond your childhood strategies and take your place in the world with maturity and strength. To do this, you must take a journey as old as myth. Just getting older won't do it. You have to kill the king, or in modern parlance, face the boss. Modern astrologers give Saturn the natural rulership of this house. Saturn is the planet of authority. And claiming your authority is THE 10th house passage. A child has no choice but to listen to its authority figures. An adult must grapple with these figures, good or bad, and overtake them.

Long ago, the link between your parents and your professional status was easy to understand. In other days and other cultures, your birthright, your family's social standing, had everything to do with who you would become. Many literally joined the family business or followed the family trade. Today we're told we can be whatever we want; we can go as far as we're willing to take ourselves. Yet the shadow of our family legacy still must be faced. Opposite the 10th is the 4th house, that midnight place which whispers to us in the dark, echoing with old, remembered voices that tell us who we really are. It's these voices we need to examine and confront on the way to claiming our authority. Think of John Lennon in his 10th house onstage at the Madison Square Gardens. It didn't matter that he had won the acclaim of millions. There he was alone with a piano, in a howling infantile rage, screaming, "Mother, I loved you, but you didn't love me," ending with a pain-filled chorus of "Mama don't go, Daddy come home!" One's psychological inheritance defines the new 10th house battlefield.

For years I worked as a manager in a corporate setting. There were over a hundred people where I worked, and just as many family dramas. Some days it seemed that mythical parent-child battles were all that was really going on. Become an authority figure and you'll quickly find this out. Your intentions are misperceived, your praise is never enough, your criticisms are exaggerated and devastating. In fact you're not really you at all, but some god or monster, depending on their filter. If you want to be liked, forget it, because everyone really does need to kill you in order to grow.

Planets in the 10th and/or ruling the Midheaven suggest how you perceive authority figures. Of course this conditions the way they'll see you too. My sister and I shared the same family nest, but Jupiter occupies my 10th, Pluto hers. We saw our parents, and our own positions in the family, quite differently. True to Jupiter, I was the "lucky" one. I was successful. I was encouraged to continually expand my horizons. I won awards in school. I made my teachers happy. Later I found bosses who encouraged, praised, and promoted me. Still, I was dancing to their tune; if I wasn't successful in their eyes, I was a nervous child. Jupiter was expected of me. Wherever I went, I was looking for an "A" from those in charge. It was a highly functional strategy, but a child's nonetheless. Transits and progressions to the

Midheaven time significant opportunities in claiming one's own authority. When the progressed Moon opposed my Midheaven, I quit my job and did many months of inner work. When I returned to the company, my boss was no longer the mommy and daddy I was trying to please. He was just a businessman, a plain old human with strengths and flaws. I didn't need his approval anymore. I had my own. Since that time, I began to give my Jupiter to others, continually encouraging those who worked for me to expand their horizons and grow.

My sister breathed Pluto in her childhood, sensing hidden agendas and overt power struggles everywhere, a perception she's carried into her adult universe. Just as bright as I was, she nontheless dropped out of college a number of times, and worked sporadically at dozens of jobs and careers. Donna Cunningham has called Pluto the "fail for spite" planet2, and this is never more true than when it falls in the 10th. My sister has spent years struggling with the powerlessness my parents' authority made her feel. She's lived awhile on money from the state, still supported like a child. When Pluto squared her Midheaven, she began her inner work, including facing incest issues (appropriate for Pluto). When her progressed Moon crossed into her 10th, she made some dramatic changes. She enrolled in school again and started studying for a career as therapist (also appropriate for Pluto). The biggest change in her 10th house was that she'd recently become a parent herself. She was finally ready to become the boss herself.

Getting married, divorced, or becoming a parent will often be indicated by transits to the Midheaven, for these are public as well as personal milestones. They change our social status. But for every outer change there must be an inner resonance. The 10th and 4th houses are in constant dialogue. We could think of planets in both these houses as having before and after pictures-before we "face the boss" and after. Often the "before" picture is something a child's eyes would conceive-idealized or exaggerated. The inner child's need for approval often drives one's early 10th-house dreams. In On the Waterfront, you can hear this child in Terry Malloy's angry and wistful claim that he could have been a contender. For most of the movie Malloy is trapped in the past. He's nothing but a former prizefighter whose career was trashed when he was forced to take a dive. Though a man, he's called "kid" by the union boss who continues to push him around.

According to traditional astrology, no planet "joys" in the 10th house, but Mars is its natural ruler. Mars is the action planet. It goes after and/or fights for what it wants. Through Mars, we express our will. Wherever Mars falls in our chart, we cannot go far in the 10th house, if we don't also apply it there. At the end of On The Waterfront, Malloy finally understands this mandate. He stands up to boss Johnny Friendly and tells the truth about the corrupt union system. He fights Friendly in a climactic scene, a sloppy fight, where he is outnumbered and badly beaten. Yet his fearless testimony ultimately brings the union down, and as Malloy struggles to stand on the docks, supported by a

grateful and admiring crowd, he walks like a genuine hero. This is the real fighter he was meant to become. He faced the boss in the 10th and came out a winner.

Such a victory can belong to you, too. For details, check out the story in your 10th house.

Notes:

1. 2.

Bill Herbst, Houses of the Horoscope, (ACS: 1988), p. p.55. Donna Cunningham, Healing Pluto Problems, (Weiser: 1988), p. 19

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the moon has a powerful influence on daily life, but few are tuned in. If you want to increase your sensitivity to the lunar rhythm, this is the workshop for you. Every month before the New Moon, you'll receive a 26-page workbook, personalized to your birth chart and current location. You'll learn about the astrology particulars-the new moon and solar ingress, how these influence your chart, along with moon phases, moon voids, moon signs and house transits. Throughout the cyc

The 11th House

by Dana Gerhardt

From my cozy vantage in one of the overstuffed reading chairs at the local Barnes & Noble, I heard a strident voice, followed by a distinctly snotty laugh: "No you're not. That's silly. You're just a little boy." Likely it was the seven-yearold girl who'd been holding court at the children's table, organizing puzzles and, with an oozing superiority, instructing the three and four year-olds not to fold pages or run in the aisles. What poor child was she humiliating, I wondered. Then I heard the voice of my then three-year-old son: "I am too. I am Batman."

Instinctively I got up, my hand in a fist. I sat back down. A middle-aged woman shouldn't take on a seven-year-old girl, no matter how badly she wants to preserve her sons innocence. Better of course to watch what he would do. "I'm Batman," I heard Branden repeat defiantly. A moment later he was running circles around the aisles of books, issuing guttural hero sounds and stabbing at the air with an invisible sword. Another boy joined him. "I'm Batman and you're Superman," Branden sang. He had found a friend and all was well. His super powers had been preserved.

The 11th is the house of friends. Opposite the 5th, that sandbox of child-like innocence and fantasies of our specialness, the 11th house describes our first experience of tribal society, the playground where we meet the world. In the 11th we discover we're not alone, which, as my son had just found out, can be both good and bad. The 11th house brings us allies, the comforts of shared experience, the strength of a collective stand. It also turns a critical eye on our behavior, makes us vulnerable to group opinion, and defines us as "out" or "in." The house of groups and organizations, the 11th immerses us in the society of others. Like a jeweler's wheel, it grinds and polishes the individualism and creativity of our 5th house self, fitting us to the larger world.

But that's not all. There's a garage sale of concepts associated with this house. When I began this series, a colleague wrote to say she couldn't wait to read what I'd make of the 11th house. I replied, "Me too!" For if theres a theme that strings its varied keywords together, it has mostly eluded me. Were told that the 11th symbolizes the social codes that bind a society and the revolutionary zeal that breaks it apart. It rules both astrologers and the legislators who would outlaw them. It describes what we have in common and what makes us different. It's a future-oriented house, but its social web is often sticky with the past. Were told the 11th is about warm and loving relationshipsand the ones about which we feel much less. Here were detached. And we subordinate ourselves to collective aims. Yet were also acknowledged. Astrologers like to say that the 5th is where

we give love, and the 11th is where we receive it. Then theres that mos t curious assignment, which says the 11th is the house of hopes and dreams. As if that werent enough, the 11th also rules airplanes, computers, varicose veins, electricity, galaxies, ballots, advisors, humanitarian causes, and unexpected gains.

Multiple keywords are a bothersome feature of many houses. But what troubles me most about the 11th is how little confirmation Ive gotten from matching its keywords to my clients experiences. When this house is active, I cannot confidently state, as some astrology cookbooks do, that a person will be inspired to join a 12-step group or volunteer for the PTA. Or that when this house is challenged, it signals difficulty with friends. When a friendship becomes so problematic that an individual needs to discuss it with an astrologer, often enough the 7th house of partnerships or the 5th of playmates is involved. Perhaps the most surprising feature of this house is how differently its described by classical astrologers and contemporary ones. Modern astrology is often accused of white-washing all traditional forecasts of misfortune. But the 11th is one house which modern astrology has actually stripped of its happy fairy wings!

Classical astrologers called the 11th Bona Fortuna (Good Fortune) and the House of Good Spirit. The logic, according to Deborah Houlding1, a modern expert in traditional astrology, is that a planet in the 11th is distant enough from the Ascendant that it can be seen clearly. Symbolically, it has passed the danger of being combust the rising Sun. And, it has freed itself from the 12th house hazards of incarceration or invisibility. Planets here are elevated above earth, and in their diurnal motion, are heading toward the Midheaven. Attaining ones desires are the promise of this position. Manilu s considered the 11th the most fortunate of all the houses, superior even to the 10th. The Midheaven suggests completion; power in the 10th has nowhere to go but down. A planet in the 11th, however, is on the way up. And so this house is festooned with hope, optimism, faith, ambition, and triumph. Lucky, benevolent Jupiter is said to joy in this house.

According to John Frawley, another modern expert in the traditional approach, the 11ths good fortune further derives from its position as second house from the 10th. It therefore indicates gifts (2nd house possessions) that come from the King (10th house). By extension, the 11th holds all manner of lucky breaks, from pennies on the sidewalk to lottery wins, any bounty that drops unexpectedly from above. Its this logic that first put friends in this house too. Friends are natural benefactors. Full of goodwill for us, theyre ready to help whenever were in need; a man rich in

friends is indeed wealthy. But it is a mistake, says Frawley, to keep adding people to this house, going from friends to all the groups and organizations to which we might belong. The Chaldean order of planets makes the Sun ruler of the 11th. As is only fitting, writes Frawley, for as the eleventh shows the good things that descend to us from Heaven, so the Sun is the image of this endless, inexhaustible bounty permeating and sustaining the cosmos.2

Classical astrologers saw a rainbow in this house and a pot of gold. But what happened to them? How did we fall into that more turbulent modern zone where we doand sometimes dontbelong?

Traditional astrology speaks feebly of the eleventh house as the house of hopes and wishes. How weak a conception for one of the most vibrant of all the houses!3 Thats what the father of modern h umanistic astrology, Dane Rudhyar, had to say about the 11th. And what did Rudhyar believe was more vital than good fortune? "(B)anding together with friends, with companions fired by a similar yearning for vision and creative social or religious change. Which makes me think of a beer commercial full of visionaries and humanitarians. The 11th lost the benefits of its position between the 12th and 10th houses, its planets out of danger and on their way up. Modern astrology uses the alphabet system. That means the 11th house is allotted the attributes of the 11th sign of the zodiac: visionary, humanitarian, and future-oriented Aquarius. Thats how friends and benefactors grew to include community in general. And how we got the assignment to join with others here, to work for the greater good. In the 11th, says Rudhyar, the power of society, of the collectivity or the group, is released through the individual or more specifically, through the activities the individual performs through the social unit. 4 Gone are personal hopes and dreams, also gifts from the king. Were now meant to join with our brothers and sisters and map a shiny future of the world. Go to PTA meetings! Join Overeaters Anonymous! Save the Whales!

Trained as a modern astrologer, I discovered this houses legacy of good fortune only recently. If planets here attract unexpected blessings, my eyes have not been trained to look for them. I would like to tell you happy stories of fortunate 11th house planets and transits. But its perhaps an occupational hazard that clients rarely call astrologers to say good fortune has struck them and theyd like to know what the devil is going on. Nor am I experienced enough in the art of horary astrology, for which the 11ths fortunate

meanings are largely intended. Horary erects a chart for the moment a client asks a question of an astrologer. If the question is Will I get what Im hoping for? the condition of the 11th house ruler will indicate whether the answer is yes or no. What I did learn from my clients was that planets or transits through this house do not always signal a particular delight in saving humanity, joining groups or even sharing good times with friends. In fact, a number of clients have even told me that after reading the astrology books, they wondered if their birth chart was wrong. Despite their Sun or Moon, or Mercury or Venus, being in the 11th, they often felt lost and unhappy in social situations.

Invariably peoples stories about the 11th, their journeys to connect with the fam ily of man, are filled with vulnerabilities, and more than one emotional scar. Eleventh house memories often go back to that first experience of a social unit, ones family of origin. And planets here, by way of aspect or archetypal qualities, hold these s tories in succinct astrological code. Jean has Pluto in the 11th squaring her Sun. Plutos position shows where we must change. It challenges us to find our power, though for a long time we may feel powerless in this particular area of life. Jean always felt like an outcast in her family. She's been dogged since childhood by the feeling she doesn't fit in, that perhaps she doesn't deserve to belong. Shes spent most of her adult life working as a freelance computer consultant, never settling in one place too long. But her real passion is working as a healer. Her greatest success and joy has been finding the tribe who welcomes and accepts her gift.

My friend Bill has both Moon and Saturn in his 11th. Bill's Moon wants to nest in the comforts of a convivial circle of friends. His greatest joy is sitting at the corner espresso bar, listening to lively debates about politics and culture. Bill once told me that hes often had a deep desire to throw himself into a pile of people and merge. But his Saturn has given him an equally strong need to erect barriers between himself and others. As I watch Bill move through the world, his rigid body language often sends a Saturn message: "Don't look; dont touch." For as long as I've known Bill, he's been searching for community, but his Saturn insists it must be the right community, the right company, the right neighborhood, the right book discussion club. After years of looking, he hasnt found it yet. While his North Node in Aquarius supports, demands, the search, his South Node in Leo holds back in royal isolation.

Moon and Saturn can be reflections of ones mother and father in a chart. Bill's parents make a spooky haunting of his 11th house world. Both upstanding Christians, they cared what the neighbors thought, but never mixed with them. For years they roamed the churches of their town, but never joined one. Bill's father opened a one-man law office and stayed in that isolation his whole adult life, shaking his head at "all the lunatics out there." Mom planted more seeds of distrust, "Your friends dont really like you. They just want to play with your toys." Despite an upper middle class income, the family lived in a lower middle class neighborhood, like nobility in exile. The "rich boys" the other families talked about, Bill and his brother became the targets of playmates who should have been friends. The neighbor boys used to lie in wait to throw rocks as they walked home from school.

The modern 11th house is a complicated place. Instead of that warm and benevolent pair, Sun and Jupiter, presiding over its activities, we have Uranus and Saturn, the ruling planets of Aquarius. The mythology of these two suggests a never-ending conflict. Uranus had the nasty habit of eating his children. Saturn (as Kronos) was the son who escaped this fate and struck his father down. Uranus is lord of the sky. Indeed, all innovation, all progress, all revolutions begin as creative concepts sky god stuff. When we are filled with Uranian inspiration in this house we are like Prometheus, stealing the fire of the gods. We are brilliant and daring. But sure as Uranus was cut down by Saturn, so must our lofty ideals inevitably fall to Saturns limits. Thats how it ended for Prometheus too. He was punished and bound to a rock as birds pecked his liver. The rock is Saturn, the hard reality of this house. Here is the establishmentthe group that disapproves. Uranus may inspire us to breakthroughs, but Saturn resists change or co-opts it. The tension between these two planets suggests our experience in this house will have its ups and downs. At times our progressive and unorthodox inclinations will find the utopia of likeminded community that Rudhyar celebrated. Other times well be the oddball surrounded by a forbidding Saturn crowd.

The 11th house gives us friends and community, but it requires something of us in return. It expects us to periodically relinquish self, to balance individuality with hive mind. What's striking about indigenous cultures is how they can live in exactly the same way for hundreds, even thousands of years. Indigenous

(earth) cultures are heavy with Saturn. The tradeoff is that in such tribes innovating individuals are shunned. There are no parades for being different; individuality is death to the group. In the myth, Sat urn follows in his fathers footsteps and eats his children too, until his son, the new sky god Zeus eventually cuts him down. The tension between earth and sky is always present in society. The too rigid community makes it impossible to individuate. The too individualistic society makes for a dangerous, unstable world.

I once read (so long ago that I dont remember where) that prominent 11th house and/or Aquarian placements suggest a significant experience of social rejection, a suffering of banishment at the hands of the tribe. Starting out as an astrologer, whenever I met someone whose chart carried this potential, Id ask if this were true. Most indeed had at least one painful story of being drummed from a social circle. Years later it occurred to me that I might have gotten the same response had I asked everyone this question, prominent 11th house placements or not. The needs of the 5th house individual are inherently antagonistic to the needs of the 11th house group. Who among us hasnt been wounded by this collision? Indeed, its often this very experience that puts us in touch with our own humanity. Rejection makes us question our 5th house creativity. It also calls in question the rules of our 11th house community. We might suffer in this house, but such suffering increases our sensitivity to the sufferings of others. Experiences here inspire us to dream of a better world.

The modern 11th house is a turbulent and changing field. Its feedback keeps us on our toes. The social organizations ruled by the 11th are forever in a kind of flux, the tension between the inspiration that set them in motion and the forces of time that pull them apart. Friends are a constantly shifting circle. Groups are good for a couple years then fall apart. In the 11th we meet the constantly changing world. Whatever self we set up in the 5th gets jostled here, tested, to stand or sink in its shifting ground. The 10th describes our role in society. But the 11th shows how we actually do it, how we must "realize" ourselves in shifting circumstances, over and over again.

When planets transit or progress through the 11th, people often feel the urge to take their interests, gifts or skills into a larger world. Whatever sandbox theyve been playing in is no longer big enough. They need to see a new reflection of themselves. With 11th house transits, we grow bold enough to enter a new field or widen the circle were already in. Something may happen to us that radically shifts our priorities. We may indeed meet fortunate allies and benefactors. Or we may encounter resistanceespecially from the group we might be leaving behind. In her excellent book about solar returns5, Mary Shea suggests that planets in this house signal a year when you should question all the rules, particularly your own. Let Uranus challenge your familiar Saturn structures. Investigate what holds you back. Let yourself ask daring new questions. Why not quit your job and start a new business? Why not sail around the world all by yourself? You dont have to act on every crazy impulse that pops into your head. But if dont have any crazy ideas stretching your sense of whats possible, how can wonderful surprises happen in your future?

One way to reconcile Uranus and Saturn is to refine your wild ideas into realistic goals. It is wise to think about your future whenever this house is emphasized by transit or progression. And that takes us full circle. It brings us back to the classical view that this is the house of hopes and dreams.

For years I avoided this phrase until I discovered its actually useful and true. I was inspired by Robert Coles wonderful book on the annual path of the Sun through the houses.6 Each year, for approximately one month, the Sun returns to your 11th house. This is the month, says Cole, when you should choose the seeds for whatever you want to plant in the year ahead. It is the time when hoping and dreaming are most beneficial. The Sun has just transited through your 10th houserepresenting an annual peak, when your work has ripened and is most visible. Now you must start preparing for the next years harvest. What do you want to grow in the year ahead? This is the month to list everything youd like to accomplish.

Whats even better is that you dont have to start working on these goals right away. You get a month to think about them. When the Sun leaves the 11th and enters your 12th house, you need to let these visions soak into your dreams, like germinating seeds. Its common, during the 12th house month for your hopes to turn into doubts and fears. But well talk about that next time, when we reach the final installment of this series!

Notes:

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

1 Deborah Houlding, The Houses: Temples of the Sky (Ascella Publications: 1998), pp. 43-45. John Frawley, The Real Astrology Applied (Apprentice Books: 2002), p. 206 Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (CRCS Publications, 1972), pp. 126-127. ibid., p. 123 Mary Fortier Shea, Planets in Solar Returns (Twin Stars: 1998). Robert Cole (with Paul Williams), The Book of Houses (Entwhistle Books: 1980).

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the moon has a powerful influence on daily life, but few are tuned in. If you want to increase your sensitivity to the lunar rhythm, this is the workshop for you. Every month before the New Moon, you'll receive a 26-page workbook, personalized to your birth chart and current location. You'll learn about the astrology particulars-the new moon and solar ingress, how these influence your chart, along with moon phases, moon voids, moon signs and house transits. Throughout the cycle, you'll be guided into an ever more intimate appreciation for the moon's workings in your life Tw

The Twelfth House

by Dana Gerhardt

Over the years, Ive received more inquiries about the 12th than any other house. The ones who write are usually in distress. Sometimes theyre new to astrology and are panicked to learn theyve got planets here: Ive heard the 12th is a terrible house. Am I doomed? Other times, its people who know all about the 12th. In fact, theyve got a long tale of 12th house woe and are hoping I can predict the precise moment its trials will end. Classical astrologers have called this house the valley of miseries, the dark den of sorrow and horror, the portal of toil, and the house of Bad Spirit.

There is karma here. That means bad things will happen to bad people. Even good people will suffer misfortune if theyre carrying some mysterious past -life debt. This house can bring frustration, anxiety, confinement, and loss; also slavery, sickness, and imprisonment. It rules hospitals, prisons, mental institutions, and monasteries (the kind you were sent to when the family wanted to keep you from public view). The 12th also rules hidden enemies. These are the evil doers you dont even know about, like the smiling beautician who Moonlights as a sorcerer, and is even now sticking pins into a voodoo doll tied with a strand of your hair.

Thank goodness Dane Rudhyar, the father of modern a strology, declared, There are no bad houses. [1] And so modern astrologers, like a happy Extreme Makeover crew, took their axes to this structure of doom. They hollowed out its dingy cells and remade the 12th into a vast womb of invisible potencies. It is now the matrix of divine unity, holding the Oneness from which we all emerge and to which we all return. Draped in the gauzy veils of Neptune and Pisces, the 12th has become an inner dream factory, residence of the collective unconscious, wellspring of symbols and archetypes, favorite haunt of the imagination. It is a house of intuition, compassion and spiritual transcendence. Youre advised to serve here, so that you dont have to suffer. For even modern astrologers couldnt erase all the difficulties in this house. They warn that in such a potent unbounded space, you can easily lose your bearings. Functions and gifts of planets here may be hard to access. You might lack a clear life direction or be confused about who you are. You may feel shy, insignificant, or anonymousor you could suffer from delusions of grandeur. Saviors and martyrs live here. Your psychic boundaries might be so porous, you could be an easy mark for predators, or become a slick predator yourself. All of this could drive you to deception and drink.

Things you cannot see would be the game show category for this house. Whether you favor the traditional or modern view, analyzing this house poses a similar problem: How do you accurately see its territory? All of its dangers are invisible, whether caused by karma, hidden enemies, or the perverted logic of your own subconscious. According to Ptolemy, the 12th corresponded to that part of the sky, just above the horizon, where stars were obscured by the thick, misty exhalations from the moistures of earth. According to the Egyptians, stars here were lost in, and debilitated by, the suns light at sunrise. [2] For both traditionalists and moderns, the 12th represents a colossal blind spot. Therefore with the problem of perception is where we should begin. Consider the cautionary tale of the Emperor of Chin.

The First Emperor of Chin was a tyrant. Ambitious and powerful, he conquered a vast territory and was the first to unite the Chinese into a single empire. Obsessed with immortality, he aimed to conquer death too. He secured a spiritual text that promised to deliver the secret of everlasting life. But the book was written in esoteric language. All he could understand was a single sentence: "The one who shall destroy Chin is Hu." Thinking "Hu" referred to a tribe from Northern China, he mobilized his entire country to build a great defensive wall. It

stretched for thousands of miles to keep the presaged invaders at bay. The wall is still standing, but Chins empire crumbled a scant few years after his death. What destroyed it? Not the northern tribe of Hu, but Chins irresponsible and idiotic son, who was also named Hu. Talk about blind spots! Chin literally planted the seed that took his own empire down.

Most of us make a similar mistake with our 12th house, for it too is an esoteric spiritual text. And its cryptic sentences, coming as intuitions, irritations, and fears, may misdirect us into battle against some Hu in the outer world. Like the emperor, we may exert great effort walling out phantom enemies while missing the real situation. Self -undoing is the most relevant of the traditional keywords to survive in the modern 12th house, and its potent enough to make us just as sick, imprisoned or enslaved as all the others. When you approach the veiled gates of this house, come armed with a healthy suspicion of your own blind spots. Pay attention to what irritates or frightens you out there, because its quite likely this enemy lurks in the shadows of your own nature, described by your 12th house planets or signs.

Katie has a 12th house Moon. On Ingrids 12th house cusp is Cancer, ruled by the Moon. Both women have a similar "enemy" in the outer world. Katie's nemesis is an actress in her community theater group. I've listened to Katie complain about her countless times. "She drives me nuts! She's always feeling sorry for herself. She's just a high school teacher but all you hear about is how hard she works, how stressful her job is. Shes forever bringing homework to rehearsals and cast parties, so she can fall asleep on a pile of papers. Does she think well give her an Oscar for martyr of the year?"

Ingrid's nemesis is Katie, whom she talks about constantly. Her complaint is surprisingly similar. "I just can't stand Katie. Listening to her is like fingernails on chalk to me. She drives me crazy, always playing the victim. Will she ever stop whining and feeling sorry for herself?" I once asked Ingrid why she thought Katie had such an effect on her. "I guess it's because I've always had it so hard. My mother was an alcoholic, you know, and I had to take care of myself. I never got to whine like that... No one ever cared if I cried."

Er, excuse me while I get my violin. I don't mean to sound unsympathetic, but I've got a 12th house Moon too. Thats why I'm writing about Katie and Ingrid. Their whining about whiners bugs me! Because of her mother's alcoholism, Ingrid was robbed of much of the emotional comforts of her Moon. But Katie and I didnt have it much better. Twelfth house Moons often have mothers who are sick, narcissistic, or otherwise un nurturing, reversing the mother-child dynamic so the child has to mother the mother. Twelfth house Moons learn to disguise their own vulnerability and pretend it isnt there. They become masters of self -sufficiency. Often theyre particularly gifted at taking care of others. But repressing their needines s doesnt make it disappear; it goes to their 12th house blind spot, where it lives as an emotionally hungry child. Trailing the competent nurturer, the little orphan cries out with an unconscious Poor me!which everyone but the 12th house Moon person can hear.

Chin had two sons. He gave all his attention to his first-born, Fu, the promised heir to the throne. Overlooked, the second-born Hu remained ignorant, silly and petulant, in effect never quite growing up. But when Chin died, wicked insiders prevented Fu from taking power and Hu was installed as a puppet leader. An empire that should have lasted a few hundred years died virtually overnight. If planets in the 12th were children, theyd be reared much like the neglected son Hu. Without our conscious attention, theyre neither tested nor trained. They dont get the same opportunities to grow and mature. Yet in moments of unconsciousness, they will take over, and can cause plenty of damage.

Consider the case of a 12th house Mars. Mars is the archetypal warrior, representing the ability to set boundaries, be self-assertive, get angry when necessary. People with a 12th house Mars often have difficulty going after what they want. Theyre outwardly gentle and agreeable, for the most part lacking Mars sharp at tacks. You can cross them several times and get no reaction, but one day, someone, possibly you, will receive a full-blown Mars explosion. The 35-year-old computer programmer will disappear and a 2-year-old in tantrum will take his place. But the person acting out won't know what hit you. He may have sent you vicious emails, vilified your name in the public square, but when

its time for an apology, hell brush it off. To truly regret his actions, his 12th house Mars would have to reach consciousness first.

Our 12th house planets and signs are like children with special needs. Theyve suffered a critical deprivation. In some way our early environment didnt encourage or support their expression. They may be usurped, denied or shamed by our caretakers. Somehow we got the message they're unsafe to express. With Mars or Aries in the 12th, I may fear the expression of my competitive drive or deny my selfishness. With Pluto or Scorpio, I may be too embarrassed to reveal my passion, my sexuality, my power. With Mercury or Gemini in the 12th, I may decide to keep my mouth shut. With Uranus or Aquarius in the 12th, I'll cover up what makes me different, and keep my creative genius under wraps. With Venus there, or Taurus or Libra, I wont know how beautiful, how sensuous, how artistic or loving I can be.

Whatever the rejected planet or sign, the subconscious awareness of its loss leads to a kind of victim consciousness, a conviction, in fact, that it's morally right to feel sorry for ourselves. Weren't we robbed after all? A businessman I know with a 12th house Mars was keenly aware of his inability to be self-assertive: "My mom co-opted all the anger in our house. I didnt dare cross her. But then I never got to be me." When he learned he had a reputation among his co-workers for being ruthless and cruelhis shadow Marshe was actually thrilled. "Doesn't it bother you that you might really be hurting people?" I asked. There was a momentary confusion in his eyes before they glazed over. Lost in the memories of his past, and unable to fit them with a different picture of his present, he spaced out and forgot my question.

I like the modern view of the 12th simply because Ive found it more useful and true. From the modern perspective, to redeem 12th house planets, you must first become aware that you have them. The next step is to choose metaphoricallyamong the more traditional options: Are you going to put yourself in prison, a mental institution, the hospital, or a monastery? You can pace a prison cell of past mistakes. You can go crazy with frustration or anger. You can lie on a sick bed of wounds. Or you can get on your knees and appeal to a higher power. In this vast inner world, time and space have no meaning. In restructuring your 12th house psyche, you have infinite choices. In imagination, you can, like a young Dalai Lama, roam an inner residence a quarter mile long with a thousand rooms,

enjoying this precious incarnation, and taking advantage of centuries of history and learning from vast inner libraries. Whatever your past, shining a light in your 12th can open a field of new possibilities.

The invisible world doesnt operate like the world of matter, so we shouldn't act like it does. In the visible world if I am harmed, I can go about crying and blaming. If I am just a material being, and my early environment didn't support my Venus or Mercury, I can say Im just a piece of genetic material with the bad fortune to be born in a dismal circumstance. Not so in the world of spirit. If I accept my spiritual nature, then I must somehow account for my existence before and after the womb. I may come to believe that my choices influence the course of my soul, that past actions have determined my situation this lifetime, bringing me to the right place for the next stage of my development, and that what I do now will affect what happens after I die. If we shift our perspective beyond this lifetime, the 12th takes on a whole new look. We acquire new responsibilities. Planets and signs here are no longer victimized or deprived. What looks like loss on the material plane becomes a sacred initiation or ritual sacrifice in the spiritual realm.

Eric has a 12th house Aries Sunopposed by Saturn and Neptune. He lost his father when he was five. His alcoholic gambler dad walked out the door and never returned. The Sun describes our will, our purpose, also our experience of father (just as the Moon describes our experience of mother). Not everyone with a 12th house Sun loses a father so literally, but in some way, the fathering influence will be dampened or sacrificed. Dads support or encouragement of the childs special gifts will be lacking. Eric tried on a variety of identities growing up, becoming a troublemaker, then a varsity athlete, then a rebel journalist, finally a poet. In college he had the good fortune to find a strong poetry mentor, and under the influence of this surrogate father, he found his way in the world. Astrology cookbooks often say that 12th house Suns are shy and tend to work behind the scenes. But you cant always believe the cookbooks. Eric is a strong and opinionated Aries, who like a true individualist, refused to fit into any corporate mold. He founded his own publishing company and continued to write prize-winning poems. In spite of his 12th house historyor perhaps because of ithe became a devoted father of three and served as a father figure to many younger writers,

supporting, encouraging, and publishing their work. His early 12th house sacrifice was the initiation leading to his later success.

When the progressed Moon entered Erics 12th house, his publishing company started to fail. The 12th is uniquely positioned on the horoscope wheel, coming as the last house, before the first begins again. Likewise, transits and progressions through this house mark an end that precedes another beginning. When the progressed Moon or Saturn goes through this house, this transition can last approximately two years. Life structures that have served their usefulness may dissolve. Relationships can go, losses may be suffered. We may be tested on how well weve developed this house, what weve learned from our initial sacrifice, how clearly weve seen into and mapped our blind spot. During the Moons progression, Eric struggled with his fathers legacy; he started drinking, fighting with his wife, and losing money just as his father had done. A whole lifetime of saying Ill never do what my father did to me brought him face-to-face with that same potential in himself. Twelfth house transits and progressions will take us deep. Theyll show us parts of ourselves weve never seen before. This isnt always bad. New beauty, streng th, and talent can hide in our blind spot too. By the time the progressed Moon crossed out of the 12th, Eric was a new man. He had cleaned up his life, found an entirely new path, and on renewed terms, was a strong and inspiring Aries Sun once again.

Paul is a writer and photographer with Neptune in his 12th. I described Neptune to him once, how it speaks through music, art, and poetry. Astrologers associate the 12th house with conception. I suggested that Neptunes imprint may have been knowledge Paul gained in the womb. His eyes lit up. His mother had played the piano throughout her pregnancy, he said, and he always felt this had made a deep impression on him; his thoughts tend to move in musical patterns. An intensely private man, Paul has a Scorpio Sun squared by a controlling Pluto/Saturn conjunction and, not surprisingly, he is known for bouts of intolerance and rigidity. As one might surmise from his chart, his father was strict. As a child Paul wasnt allowed to drift and dream or float in Neptunes sea; that was the early deprivation of this planet. As a young man Paul served in the military and later went to school for a business career. But in the past ten years I've watched him steadily withdraw from worldly concerns to submerge in the Neptunian world of his art. For the past two years he has been so deep in Neptune that he disappears for months at a time. Yet whenever I see him, he is intensely alive. More than anyone I know, Paul lives an artist's life, completely on artist's time. He will spend hours catching just the right light for a photograph. He will go days without sleep, living with the characters in his novel as though they were roommates. His 12th house Neptune has become the center of his life. It is the sunken treasure he has been working his whole life to retrieve. It is something truly divine.

When I look at an individuals chart and see planets in the 12th, doom and misery arent the first words that come to my mind. I rather think that here lies a great gift, in fact, the true wealth of the chart. But its like a trust fund. The 12th house individual must come of age first, spiritual age. Ego might greedily appropriate the rest of the chart for its desires, but this house refuses to give up its goods so easily. There will be sacrifice; there will be immaturity, weakness, and whining; there will be a long journey requiring selfawareness, humility, and spiritual responsibility. However long it takes, the 12th house treasure will not disappear. Won perhaps over many lifetimes, it is deep and instinctive. The potential for a wide appreciation of its gifts is also huge.

Im not alone in thinking this way. Michel Gauquelin, a psychologist who used statistical models to investigate astrologys accuracy, discovered that while many astro logy factors have no relevance, planets in the 12th house [3] did have a strong correlation with an individuals career success. Mars in the 12th house was often found in the charts of sports figures. Actors, politicians, and journalists showed Jupiter in the 12th; scientists and doctors, Saturn or Mars; painters and musicians, Venus; and writers, the Moon. This finding surprised even astrologers, who typically locate career indicators in the 10th. Contemporary astrologer Maurice Fernandez makes even stronger claims for 12th house planets. [4] According to Fernandez, people who have positions of influence or fame will more often have an emphasized 12th house than a strong 10th. Since the 12th house rules both the collective unconscious and the masses, planets here indicate the potential to tune in to whats popular and have an effect on a wide audience. They may also bear the burden of mass projection, sacrificing the personal life to become a product or symbol. Think of the different measures of fame the following 12th house Suns have achieved: Ghandi, Madonna, George Bush, and Rodney King.

As with any astrology factor, what really counts is what the individual does with it. I know behind every worried email I get about the 12th, lies someone with great potential for success. Since Ive come to appreciate the special quality of 12th house planets, the rest of the chart seems to pale. Without question, this house of self-undoing, confinement, and loss is my favorite house in the chart.

Notes:

1. 2.

Dane Rudhyar, The Astrological Houses (CRCS: 1972), p. 141 See Deborah Houlding, The Houses: Temples of the Sky (Ascella Publications, 1998), p. 56 and 115, for a discussion of the Ptolomeic and Egyptian views.

3.

Gauquelins studies also showed that planets in the 9th, and to a certain extent, the 3rd and 6th had a similar influence. See Michel Gauquelin, The Truth About Astrology, (Hutchinson, 1984).

4.

Maurice Fernandez, Neptune, The 12th House and Pisces (Trafford, 2004).

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My Venus Research Results

Part One, by Dana Gerhardt

Felicity sat on the fence of her family's ranch in Wyoming, her eyes scanning across miles of wide open fields and flat land. "I am so f.king bored," she complained, tossing her thick mane of blue-black hair across her shoulders. With a heavy sigh, she wondered if she would ever get out of this hellhole of a town full of nobodies. She wanted to explore the world. Maybe then she would finally find the place where she belonged.

If a 9th house Venus in Cancer were a romance-novel heroine, her story might begin just this way. Astride the family fence, looking out at a wider world, she surrenders to her deepest longing, the central paradox of her nature: her 9th house desire for freedom and her Cancer need to belong. Felicity's tale was in fact written by a 9th house Venus in Cancer. The author was one of hundreds who responded to a brief note appearing at the end of my last Venus article (which launched this planet series two years ago): I'm currently working on a book about Venus. If you'd like to

participate in my research, I have a juicy questionnaire which will help you explore your Venus placement and help me verify what the goddess wants us astrologers to know. Email if you're interested.

I expected a dozen, maybe twenty or thirty brave souls would reply. That number would surely dwindle once they saw my questionnaire with 32 open-ended questions probing into all facets of the Venus experience-love, relationship, aesthetic tastes, creativity, finances, sex, sorrows, and happiness. Having worked for years in market research, I well knew the odds against getting respondents to complete a lengthy survey, especially one so intimate. I hadn't planned on joining the ranks of Michel Gauquelin with a vast statistical project. (1) Mine would be qualitative, not quantitative research.

Quantitative speaks in percentages. It requires a carefully controlled sample and non-ambiguous questions, focused to support or disprove some in-going hypothesis. Qualitative is used when a researcher isn't sure what she'll find. It's exploratory and subjective, as when gathering a dozen people in a focus group to discuss potato chips or lighter fluid. The patterns and design of the study become clear only after the talk gets going. The data gathering instrument is not a computer, but the mind of the researcher, who must become like a sponge in a bucket, fully immersed in whatever shows up.

Quickly I was more than immersed. I was drowning. I was inundated with surveys for months. When the same article appeared a year later on the Astrodienst website (and I forgot to delete my author's note), more Venuses stepped forward to volunteer. After some dropped out and I had to turn others away, I tallied up 426 completed surveys. This in itself was a finding. It affirmed that interest in the Venus archetype was compelling enough to drag many otherwise busy people through an extensive self-revealing questionnaire. Happily, quite a few reported that just answering the survey had brought them closer to Venus. This was indeed my hope-that the questions would reward both the respondents and researcher with a new awareness of her presence.

Delighted as I was, many days I was afraid to enter my office. The intimacy, depth and sheer number of the responses was daunting. Like many practicing astrologers, I was oblivious to my own transits. Eventually I realized

that by transit, Neptune was squaring my Venus. I could have hoped this would lift the veils of creative inspiration, bringing a feeling of timeless absorption as I spent days reading questionnaires and nights receiving dream messages from the goddess herself. Sadly we don't often get the transit we want; we get the one that shows up. I got the "lost" Neptune transit. Imagination froze and I went blank. Any understanding I thought I had of Venus disappeared. I'd alternate between reading questionnaires and avoiding them, feeling perpetually at sea with the project. Once my Neptune transit was complete, virtually on the day it lifted, a vision of how to organize and report the results arrived like a storm. As is often true of Neptune transits, a part of me, shrouded in unconsciousness, had been working all along. The result is "Your Venus Unleashed," not a book, but a computerized report designed to give the reader the best of what I'd experienced, deep immersion in the Venus archetype. It contains what I've learned on my personal Venus journey over the past five years, but more importantly, it's filled with the voices of my generous research participants, who allowed me to quote (with anonymity) their insights and experiences.

Many stories brought tears to my eyes, like this one from a Gemini Venus conjunct Uranus. Gemini is the messenger and Uranus can bring flashes of otherworldly knowledge; combine that with a very psychic Moon/Neptune conjunction in the 12th house, and it's not surprising that this woman works as a channel. Quite literally in the following account of a happy memory, her Gemini Venus became Love's messenger.

"For a long time I've known that life continues after death. I needed no proof; it was simply a part of my awareness. Within hours of my daughter's Beloved being killed by an impaired driver, I began to hear-as if they were dropped into my mind-the words and music 'I will always love you' and I had an image of a dozen dark red roses with one white rose. Please understand, I rarely get clairvoyant messages. I 'know' things; I don't 'see' them. At first I ignored the words but they kept repeating-not the entire song, just 'I will always love you' with the image of the roses over and over. I finally decided to act on my intuition. On the way to my daughter's home, I arranged for the red roses with the one white one to be sent to her, writing on the card, 'I will always love you.' No signature. The moment I finished writing, I heard deep within me, in Arthur's voice, 'Thank you, Mother.' I was flooded with such a feeling of love and gratitude I could hardly contain it. It may seem strange that such an unhappy occasion was also an occasion for happiness, but I'll never forget how glad I was for this sign of continuing love and how grateful I was to be able to help."

In the three happy memories shared by respondents, themes related to their Venus sign, house or aspects often appeared. The same was true when I asked about three unhappy times, for if Venus defines what brings us joy, she also defines our sorrows. Venus can be saucy and sexy, but as the principle of receptivity, she is tender and sensitive too, exposing herself by what she cannot bear. The following anecdote comes from a Venus in Libra. It's a small event, but likely it lingers in memory because it confronts themes so central to this placement-the attunement to others, the desire for beauty and harmony, and the horror of anything rough, rude, or ugly.

"When I was a teenager, I went to boarding school, leaving my sweet boyfriend behind. When I came home for the Christmas holidays, I had caught the measles from an epidemic at school. My face was all swollen. In those days in the country we didn't have a phone. My sweet boyfriend showed up without me having had a chance to tell him not to come. I did hide in my bedroom as I didn't want him to see me so ugly, but my mother insisted I show up. She insisted so much that it became more uncomfortable to hide than to appear. I felt profoundly unsupported by her, profoundly humiliated to briefly show up and to watch the horrified expression on his face, which was, in fact, the last time I ever saw him."

If only the mother of this Venus in Libra had known some astrology! When I drafted my questionnaire, I didn't know which questions would be most productive. Happy and unhappy memories were telling, but the most imaginative portraits of each sign's Venus came from two questions in particular: I asked people to describe someone whose feminine expression they most admired and to describe their idea of a goddess-either one met in real life or imagined. These answers were often strikingly on sign, with women and goddesses of independence and strength appearing for the Venuses in Aries, compassionate and nurturing women/goddesses for the Venuses in Cancer, and for the Venuses in Leo, bright laughing women/goddesses expressing themselves with confidence. Although the following account is not typical of the Venuses in Aquarius (who tended to admire independence, unorthodoxy and the capacity to love unconditionally), it's quite appropriate for this sign. Who else but Venus in Aquarius would describe a goddess ET!

"Yes I have met a goddess. One rainy night our sky-watching group vectored in a craft in Britain and I, along with two other men, one from the BBC, were sent to investigate the unusual lights about a quarter mile away. We came upon a most perfect woman floating over the mud in the field. She came within a foot of my face, repeating my greeting back to me. I found I could not move my body; neither could the others. Frozen to the spot, we were silent, calm and stunned. She moved on. After a minute we found we could move again. The three of us agreed we had seen an ET Queen or a Goddess. She was shorter than 5'6" and of perfect form and face. Her movements were superb, full of grace and her cloak glowed with radiance. She acted regal but without false ego. I'm still impressed by this and it occurred over ten years ago."

By research standards, my sample was healthy, but hardly representative of the population as a whole. I heard from women and men, but predominantly women. Ages ranged from 17 to 79, with the majority being between 40 and 65. All had an interest in astrology and many were involved in creative Venus-ruled professions. That the sample was self-selected limits my authority to generalize about everyone's experience of Venus. But which signs elected to participate is itself an interesting finding. For each sign, the average number of surveys completed was roughly the same-with four notable exceptions. The Virgo and Scorpio samples were nearly double those of the other signs; the Taurus and Libra surveys were almost half the average.

Why had I heard from so many Venuses in Virgo and Scorpio and so few in Taurus and Libra? My theory on this evolved over time, until it eventually led to the finding I consider most important. At first the sample skew made simple astrological sense. Virgo and Scorpio are the signs most associated with research. Virgo has the patience and analytical curiosity to complete a lengthy survey. Scorpio enjoys probing beneath the surface into psychological patterns and causes. What's more, in the article carrying my invitation, I had expressed confusion about my own Venus in Scorpio, prompting many others with a Scorpio Venus to commiserate.

But why were the Taurus and Libra samples in such short supply? As Venus-ruled signs, these might have been most eager to explore Venus matters. I suspected the tone of my article had driven the sample in the opposite direction. I had been dissatisfied and mystified by my experience of Venus, inadvertently skewing representation toward the traditionally unhappy placements. Venus is in detriment in Scorpio, in her fall in Virgo; in Taurus and Libra, she's more regally disposed. Perhaps my sample merely confirmed astrology's system of rulership and detriments. Those with a well-placed Venus were busy enjoying their happy lives and had little need for further exploration. Those with troubled placements were more amenable to recounting and hopefully unraveling their difficulties. (2)

Yet once I read through the surveys, I no longer believed this. Many of the Virgos and Scorpios had wonderful Venus expressions. The level of their sensuous awareness and creative engagement indicated a strong alignment with Venus in their daily lives. These signs weren't at all bad for the goddess. In fact, I later discovered that among the Sumerians, Virgo and Scorpio were the two constellations most associated with Venus (as Inanna/Ishtar). (3) Among Venuses in Aries, a sign also in detriment, I found a passionate sensibility that was reminiscent of early historical descriptions of this archetype-as both a goddess of love andof war. The group with Venus in Pisces, a sign considered favorable for Venus because she's exalted here, did have a special Piscean flavor of creativity, idealism, and supernatural leanings. But the group's overall blessings fell into the same bell curve as the other signs, with a few at the fringe seeming inordinately graced or cursed, and the rest enjoying an average range of Venus ups and downs. In survey after survey, difficulty or ease with the Venus archetype seemed less conditioned by sign or house than by life experiences-which often showed a greater correlation with aspects to Venus. But the real meaning of these experiences was decided by free will, that is, by the individual's attitude toward what had occurred.

So what caused the Virgo/Scorpio and Taurus/Libra skew? I now believe it was astrology itself. My readers are astrologically savvy people. I suspect those with Venus in Taurus and Libra were less inclined to participate because they were generally happy and inspired by what they'd heard or read about their Venus. Those with Venus in Virgo and Scorpio were left dissatisfied or mystified by astrology's experts. In their questionnaires, many respondents were openly angry with these judgments; others agreed ("Yes I'm cold and picky," or "Yes I'm withdrawn and vengeful. Am I doomed?") Often enough, I found myself delighting in someone's unique portrayal of Venusian sensibilities throughout a survey, only to find at the end, when I asked for an opinion of their Venus placement, the individual would fall sadly into line, thinking he or she was cursed.

This led to what I felt was my most significant finding: astrology has some cleaning up to do. We've got to look beyond the cultural Venus stereotypes. And we need to abandon our habit of naming "good" or "bad" placements. Assessing planetary weakness or strength, quite valuable in horary judgments, (4) has less relevance in natal astrology. In birth charts, detriments, falls or exaltations aren't particularly useful, except as they make people feel blessed or cursed. Better is determining why a person was born with a particular arrangement of Venus sign, house

and aspects. I've come to believe that whatever this is, it's the ideal position for that person's feminine expression. It is their assignment, the road to their happiness. Helping that person travel this road in confidence and joy is a good use for astrology, although it requires new listening and new learning. The more questionnaires I read, the more convinced I became that every Venus placement is beautiful. It was simply my job to discover why. This is indeed a Venusian approach, as her core values are acceptance and appreciation.

Consider Venus in Virgo. Astrology books typically portray her as an uptight school marm, cold in love, full of criticism. But as a group, the Virgo Venuses I found were more sensuous than any other sign-if sensuality is measured not by how quickly one falls into bed with a lover, but how developed are one's senses, how attuned one is to the pleasures of taste, sight, touch, and sound. The Venus Virgos loved quality more than criticism. They were so at home in the natural world, that shy as they indeed were, they enjoyed being naked to a much higher degree than any other sign. How should we write this up for a cookbook? Consider the following description from one of my Venus-in-Virgo participants:

"My Venus is strong, willowy, and magical. Amazonian. Very grounded yet full of life force. She can perform seemingly impossible feats. She is a loner. Connected to nature. Out in the moonlight conversing with stars. She has the kind of eyes you fall into and don't want to climb out of. She is pure openness and fluidity. She can't be held or possessed, only delighted in-if you are fortunate enough to encounter her. She is strangely powerful yet timid, rare as a unicorn and equally as shy."

The portrait is fanciful, but captures Virgo's femininity better than anything I've seen in an astrology book. Venus in Capricorn is another sign often mistreated by astrologers. This Venus is typically described as unaffectionate and reserved, tending to marry for status more than love, choosing partners who can bring her material advantages. Among the Capricorn Venuses I looked at, I found little indication this was true. The problem with most Venus interpretations is they do nothing more than drape a Sun sign in a dress. Because Capricorn Suns can be stodgy and calculating, the same traits are presumed of Capricorn Venus. Such thinking altogether misses the Venus archetype, whose qualities are universal. Venus brings everyone access to pleasure, passion, abundance, joy, creativity, sexual potency and self-love. The challenge is discovering how her values best thrive in a particular sign. The possibilities are more diverse than is usually imagined. Consider the following portrait from a Capricorn Venus. The person whose feminine expression she most admired was not some Donald Trump in a dress, but someone earthy, responsible, and beautiful by being both sturdy and soft, who valued tradition and was willing to work. These are also Capricorn traits.

"I admire my grandmother-a formidable old lady. She was very hard and very strong. She had a hard life as many of her generation had and she'd been widowed and therefore single for all but 6 years of her adult life. She embodies women for me as she demonstrated such strength of character. So fierce in some ways-a former nurse, a single parent, a meticulous housekeeper and cook-yet so feminine in others-always dressed correctly, always jewelry or hats or brooches, always the right coat, always dignified. There were handmade lace mats all over her house and hand knit shawls for babies she adored. Her display cabinet held remnants of bridal bouquets from both her daughter's and daughter-in-law's weddings."

Who knows whether the grandmother described actually was a Venus in Capricorn. Beauty lives in the beholder's eye, so the portrait reveals a kind of feminine beauty that inspires a Capricorn Venus. Another Venus sign often labeled as less than passionate is Gemini. It's believed that androgynous Mercury, who rules this placement, somehow dilutes her sensuality. I found the opposite was true. Clever, playful, and flirtatious, the Gemini Venus group was delightfully adept in many Venusian arts. Even more than Venus in Libra, who's often praised for her social charms, the Venuses in Gemini had no qualms about walking up to people and turning on the charm (while Venus in Libra was more reticent and sensitive, being more easily mortified if she was rejected).

Contrary to astrology's party line, Mercury gives Venus a special advantage. That's because of this truth: Love and Sex are intimately connected to the Mind. Knowing this was actually Cleopatra's secret weapon. (5) She was no beauty-her nose was hooked, her lips were thin, her body was squat. But she rolled herself up in a rug and had this delivered to Julius Caesar. When he unrolled it, Cleo immediately began dazzling him with conversation, speaking in perfect Latin and Greek, charming him with poems, stories and laughter. She conquered him that night. Like Cleopatra (who, by the way, adored libraries), Venus in Gemini has mad skills. She is the ultimate courtesan.

But then every Venus has mad skills. To discover your own, you must learn to approach her as a lover. See her as Don Juan deMarco sees women. (6) "I see women for who they truly are-glorious, radiant, spectacular. . I am not limited by my eyesight. Women react to me the way they do . because I sense out the beauty that dwells within them until it overwhelms everything else and then they cannot avoid their desire to release that beauty and envelop me in it." Your Venus merely wants the same from you.

1.

Michel Gauquelin is a French statistician and astrologer who demonstrated the strength of planets within ten degrees on either side of the angles through correlating celebrity and career with planetary positions in thousands of charts. >>

2.

Venus in Aries is also in detriment and Venus in Pisces is exalted. Both of these signs, however, showed representation within the average. >>

3. 4.

Anne Baring and Jules Cashford, The Myth of the Goddess (Arkana, 1993), p. 200. >> In horary astrology, a chart is calculated for the moment a client asks an astrologer a question. Planets are symbolic of certain persons or outcomes; their strength and weakness is used to predict their likely success. >>

5.

For this the information on Cleopatra and many seductresses who used brains over beauty, I'm grateful to Betsy Prioleau's book, Seductress: Women Who Ravished the World and Their Lost Art of Love (Penguin, 2003).>>

6.

This quote refers to the character played by Johnny Depp in the 1995 film,Don Juan deMarco. >>

"YOUR VENUS UNLEASHED", report by Dana Gerhardt

Unleashing Venus will change your life. See her as you've never Seen her before. Acknowledge her whispered desires and insistent shouts. Follow her trail of clues toward greater happiness. Based on extensive research, Dana Gerhard's unique report offers an inspiring analysis of your

Venus sign, house, and aspects, including transits and progressions, and so much more.
More information at mooncircles.com

Venus Revisited
Part Two, by Dana Gerhardt

The Darker Angel of Our Nature

Venus suggests flowing robes, laughter like music, and a sensuous ease with life. She's feminine receptivity, beauty and grace, unless you're talking to an astrologer, for whom Venus the planet is primarily a symbol of love and money. But are these associations accurate? What is our real experience of the Venus archetype? And how does this correlate with her position in our charts? This wondering inspired a two-year research project (see part one of "Venus Revisited" last issue), in which I compared Venus placements of 426 individuals against their responses to an indepth questionnaire probing into all facets of the Venus experience-love, relationship, aesthetic tastes, creativity, finances, sex, sorrows, and happiness. In survey after survey, it was apparent that along with the harmonious, loving and sensuous Venus, there was another one, who was edgier, more conflicted, even divisive.

It is this other Venus, as in the old Flip Wilson joke, "The devil made me do it," who inspires our more questionable choices, ones that evoke pain and confusion, even as they irrevocably alter our lives. She is the darker angel of our nature, full of desire, craving excitement over peace, urging us to fling ourselves off the precipice of the status quo. If this other Venus were a romance novel heroine, her story might begin with the following paragraph (written by a 5th house Venus in Pisces):

Something indescribable has taken over her senses. With pain running deep in her heart, the warmth from the hearth is inappropriate-too warm and cozy. Outside the howling wind churns the ocean waves from a soft waltz to a passionate aggressive tango. The urge to be violently caressed by the wind overtakes

her. She grabs her thickest shawl and heads for the edge of the cliff, where the wind is at full intensity. The waves are reaching for her, spraying her face with salt water. The wind tugs at her clothing and hair-in turmoil-just like her heart. Still, there is so much beauty to be seen, even now.

Astrologers don't need to search among the asteroids or at the far reaches of the solar system to locate this more tumultuous goddess. As feminine receptivity, Venus signifies our capacity to open to life. This brings delight, but also vulnerability, penetration and pain, and even that, by Venus standards can be beautiful. The goddess who craves pleasure and passion loves variety and intensity, which can be exhilarating. It's also disruptive, inspiring choices that shame or humiliate us, sending us to lovers who aren't good for us, into orgies of consumption we later regret, stimulating jealousy, inadequacy, and fear of loss. As an archetype, Venus maps our route to happiness. But she refuses to take only safe, well-lit roads. By her very nature, she keeps turning us into the dark.

Ancient sky-watching cultures understood this, observing her cycle with a mixture of reverence, awe, and fear. Being our closest and brightest star, her influence was undeniable. To the Mayans, Sumerians, Babylonians, and many indigenous cultures, her cycle demonstrated shamanic initiation and change, as she transformed from morning star to evening star and back again, disappearing into the underworld in between. (1) The modern view of Venus as promising constant joy reveals our disconnection from the sky's demonstration of process.

The two most frequent complaints people make about their Venus is that she hasn't brought them everlasting love or piles of money. But these are astrologer promises. I've never read a Venus/Aphrodite myth that shows the goddess counting piles of money or declaring her fidelity to one true love. She is sexy and creative, also clever, curious, and promiscuous. When we want only "happy Venus," we tend to re-enact Pandora's myth. As Hesiod tells it, Pandora was the first woman. She was commissioned by Zeus as a punishment for Prometheus' thievery. Shaped by Hephaestus from water and earth, and blessed with gifts from every deity, including desire and grace from Aphrodite, Pandora arrived with a jar she'd been told not to open. Curiosity got the better of her and she peered under the lid, letting all the evils of the world pour out. We may get a similar surprise, when we expect to steal only goodies from Venus. We inevitably release her shadow.

The misogyny in Hesiod's tale is unmistakable. Feminists see it as one more parry in the patriarchy's war against the feminine. Hesiod likely revised an earlier goddess myth, in which the first woman arrived bearing a jar that held not evil, but the feminine mysteries, powers associated with intuition, dream, and prophecy, as well as the unconscious and the fertile unknown. Early fertility goddesses were the matrix from which all life sprang. But in patriarchal pantheons, they were stripped of their fullness and splintered into multiple goddesses with lesser powers. To understand how Venus operates in our charts, we must reconnect her to her matriarchal lineage. We must see her as a force of nature. She's a scented flower enticing lovers and bees-also an earthquake or hurricane. She's not always safe. Her fertility can inspire artistic creativity, a sexual union producing a child, or an experience that shocks and forces us to grow. As feminine receptivity, Venus takes us to our edge, the brink of growth; the pain she brings is generative. As psychologist and author Ginette Paris writes, Aphrodite ".is not just a source of joy, but a path of inner knowledge." (2) In other words, she brings more than love and money. She immerses us in life.

Technical Interlude

Which dark roads a person's Venus might travel can be suggested by her sign or house. But the most articulate placements are often the aspects to Venus-the conjunctions, squares, oppositions, trines and sextiles from other planets. I'll share some quotes and stories, but first I must confess my method. If you have little concern for technical precision, skip ahead. I've always been persnickety about tight orbs, having been trained by my teacher to dial charts down into minor aspects, harmonics, and midpoints. Most days I even sniff in disapproval at the "alphabet" system that draws equivalents between signs, houses, and planets. (3) I started my Venus research with elaborate worksheets to calibrate each chart's technical features. This would have been fine if I'd gotten the 30-50 participants I'd expected, but with 426, it became overwhelming. I had no choice but to shift toward intuitive techniques (which of course are more Venusian).

Working intuitively means listening. I read respondent questionnaires and listened for patterns, then observed how the words did or didn't match the charts. I gathered all the Sagittarian Venuses, or the 8th house Venus group, and listened for similarities among them. Important too was what people didn't say. Indeed more than one astrology

chestnut dissolved this way. One of the first to go was "jealousy is a Venus Scorpio affliction" (or an 8th house/Pluto influence). When over half my respondents admitted to problems with jealousy, it confirmed this was a generic Venusian trait; it's not only silly, but inaccurate to limit it to just one sign. Most exciting was hearing that there were indeed similarities that bound each Venus group and made them different from the others. The Venuses in Aquarius related similar aspirations for love, unlike what the Venuses in Cancer shared. Even after twenty years of practicing astrology, I'm always thrilled and a little surprised that astrology works!

Yet reading the questionnaires also brought significant moments of confusion, when I would hear the unmistakable note of a planet that was not connected to the Venus tree. A Venus conjunct Mars would complain more than once of despair or low self esteem and I'd expect to see Saturn waving his gloomy hand over Venus or Mars, but it wasn't there. Even though my questions were focused on Venus matters, there was nothing to prevent the Sun or Moon or anything else from responding. And sometimes that's where the Saturn aspect would be hiding. But anything important in a chart is said at least three times. As I raised my eyes and brought them into softer focus, a whole new network of Venusian relationships came into view. Often enough, a planet would influence Venus through an aspect whose orb was just over ten degrees or even wider. Sometimes an outer planet whose only connection with Venus was occupying the same sign, twenty degrees away, would still figure in that person's Venus story. These wide and sloppy aspects often spoke louder than the tight minor ones, like quintiles or biquintiles with a one degree orb.

I've met astrologers who interpret aspects by sign rather than orb (as in reading any Taurus planet in square to any Aquarius planet, no matter their degrees). This practice used to make me roll my eyes. I did not expect that studying so many charts in this focused way would relax my astrological precision, but it has. Perhaps it's just the technician's fantasy that gods stay within discrete numerical boundaries. Real lives are messy. Archetypal edges mix and blur. I'm now more comfortable with the alphabet system. I've seen how vigorously it works. A 9th house Venus can indeed be like a Venus in Sagittarius or in aspect to Jupiter. I've also found that the particular nature of an aspect-whether it's a square, trine, or sesquiquadrate-can have less significance than is usually given it. In real life experience, a square may not be so different from an inconjunct. What matters is that the planets are connected. Among respondents

whose Venus aspected the Moon, I heard similar themes, whether the planets were bound by conjunction, trine, or opposition. How well the planets worked seemed more to do with a person's background and willingness to grow-a mystery which often trumps the math.

I've had sensual desires even before knowing what sex was. When I was only four, my mother took me to the beach. Once she was settled she noticed that my attention had gone to an incredibly handsome man who was sunbathing close to us. I suddenly got up and walked straight to this man, kneeled beside him, stroked him gently from his upper thigh to his knee and said, "Hmmm, you smell like a man." My mother was horrified. I've always had boys on my mind, but funnily enough "sex" scared me. I was a virgin until the age of 19. . My relationships have been a disaster. As I have been on my own since the age of 16, I think I have confused love and security, settling for second best because I did not feel I could do better. . I feel very self-conscious about my body, not keen on being naked. I don't want to feel shame, but I do; however, when aroused and during sex, this disappears. I no longer fear not being perfect. My inner goddess takes over and it feels wonderful to be unclothed. (Venus square the Moon)

The dark side of the Moon/Venus aspect goes all the way back to Mount Olympus, where the divided Feminine began quarrelling with itself. Competition between Hera, queen of heaven, and sex goddess Aphrodite sparked not only the Trojan War, but an unconscious friction between nurture and sex, or the security of relationships and their lusty pleasure. We can understand a mother's horror at her daughter's early sexual awakening, but the reaction may inspire a child to turn against herself, feeling guilty for sexual feelings or learning to compromise desire for safe commitments. Many with this aspect battle against their bodies: "It's not perfect," "It's disgusting," or "It reminds me of my mother's." They tell stories of feeling criticized by their mother or embarrassed by their mother's own flirtatiousness. They are on the front lines of what is a larger cultural dilemma, where the divided feminine flares as eating disorders, the inability of women to share power with other women, or men confusing wives with mothers who they must sneak out on with their mistresses.

Many with Moon/Venus feel a sweet connection with their mothers, even if the relationship is sometimes fractious. A positive feminine influence-a mother, aunt, or grandmother who's able to contain both Hera and Aphrodite with easecan help to give this aspect a beautiful expression: confident, creative, sensitive, sensuous, and nurturing. The soul assignment of Venus/Moon is to reunite the Feminine into its original fullness. Loving the body and reclaiming its sacredness can be a significant step toward integrating these two feminine potencies. This was an important discovery for one Moon/Venus square in my study:

I learned a valuable lesson while on a summer vacation in Brazil when I was 17. In Rio they walk practically naked on the streets. Men wear those tiny Speedo bathing suits and women of all shapes, ages, and sizes wear bikinis or 2piece tangas, and no one takes a second look at them. They feel so free with their bodies. I reflected on that. After the initial shock, something clicked inside about the beauty of the human body and the different shapes it takes. If someone else doesn't like it, he or she can just look the other way.

Venus awakens in the body naturally, sometimes before the culturally accepted age, but when she's in aspect to Pluto, there may be an unwanted initiation. It would be irresponsible and incorrect to say that every Venus/Pluto connection indicates sexual abuse. Yet much like Pluto abducting Persephone into the underworld, there may be a premature and unwanted awareness of sex, too big for innocence to fully process. This is another aspect that can carry shame with the body, or a sense of being damaged in some way. With Venus/Pluto, it's almost as if a layer of protection is missing, intensifying the vulnerability and raising the voltage of emotions. There is great strength with this aspect, but initially its sensitivity can inspire extremes of either shutting Venus down or throwing her to the wolves.

What did I learn about love before I was five? That I was unlovable, unwanted. Somehow sex was tangled up with that, but I don't fully understand how. I was sexually abused at nine, but I just know it wasn't the first time and I have strange fragments of memories. I learned that sex could buy me an illusion of love. Love is still very difficult to trust even after years of therapy. Once, despite my better judgment, I got involved with a chilling man (intensely possessive and very dishonest) quite quickly after I parted with my ex-husband. Our sexual relationship was both passionate and sometimes dark (involving S&M) which was both exciting, disturbing, and at times, towards the end, frightening. I was the masochist in the relationship in lots of ways, including sexually. After the relationship ended (which was intensely painful, because I had grown to "love"/need him?) I decided to get my head sorted out! (Venus opposite Pluto)

When one journeys in the underworld, it helps to have a guide. A painful Venus/Pluto experience can be the catalyst for seeking counseling, joining support groups, or attending workshops leading to greater insight into self and others, identifying deeper motivations and unconscious patterns. Some of the most dramatically painful stories of loss, abuse, and betrayal were told by the Venus/Plutos in my study, yet they also showed a survivor's strength and keen self-awareness. It is helpful to remember that in the myth, Persephone becomes a Queen. We could say she learns to protect her treasures carefully, revealing them to only those worthy of her trust. With mastery, she inspires others with her emotional authenticity, her readiness to meet the unknown, her skill in clearing the past, releasing relationships that no longer serve.

Astrology books raise high expectations for Venus/Jupiter aspects. The conjunction is considered the most fortunate of all planetary combinations, bringing abundance, luck, and popularity. The dark side of this and other Venus/Jupiter combinations is usually reported as over-indulgence-too much eating, drinking, or spending-or overbearing judgment and hypocrisy. Among the Venus/Jupiters in my study and even those I've known, I've not often seen these high or low extremes. Philandering Zeus and promiscuous Aphrodite did have reputations for indulgence. But in other myths, they were father and daughter, with Zeus raising Aphrodite to deity status, alternately protecting her or reigning her in. It was this "raising up" quality that I most consistently heard in the Venus/Jupiters in my study. There was an aspiration for journeying, geographical and spiritual, and delight in experiences that brought freedom, new perspectives, and a connection to truth. There was often good fortune through teachers. In the following story from a woman with Venus trine Jupiter, one can almost see Zeus looking out for his daughter, calling her to journey to his own wife's temple. Maybe it was Zeus masquerading as the guard who allowed her in to receive an important message.

Years ago I took a trip to Greece and was drawn to see the Heraion, a temple dedicated to the Goddess Hera. This is a desolate site on the Argive plane. I could not understand why I was driven to see it. The day was scorching hot but I had to go. Nothing would stop me. When I got to the site, the guard, who said he seldom got visitors, was so happy to see me that he let me in for free. I climbed onto the temple wall and sat on it, staring out at the mountains in the distance. Insects buzzed in the dry grasses and the sun beat down, but I was oblivious to everything, mesmerized by

the heat and the quiet. Suddenly, a very clear, decisive, imperious statement entered my consciousness. "How long to you think you can live a lie?" it asked. It shocked me. This was nothing like my inner voice. The question was repeated and I knew immediately what it was about. I had been living in a very difficult and unhappy marriage for many years. The experience was killing my spirit. I began to cry softly, then the tears came with great heaving sobs. I finally pulled myself together and returned to my hotel. When I realized what had happened I was overwhelmed. The archetype of the great goddess had come to life, there in the Heraion. When I returned to the US, I asked for a divorce and moved to live and work in Greece. (Venus trine Jupiter)

Whatever the planetary aspect, if we see our difficult Venus experiences as our unique path to growth, we too are raised up, no longer victims or screw-ups. People can be quite judgmental about their own love failures. Perhaps it is Venus who journeys through us, to reach the fullness of her bliss again and again. When she takes us through the underworld, if we do not fall into unconsciousness or remain there, if we keep our traveling, we may have moments when we know what the gods know.

I had always experienced my Venus opposite Neptune as heartbreak, falling in love with all the wrong men-longing for a deeper connection I could never find with the men I was attracted to, loving men who didn't love me back or had other women in their lives. The "horoscope of heartbreak" I used to call it, until I hit 48 years old. I met an artist who connected with me instantly. We've been together 3 years. As a portrait artist, he has painted both of my daughters, and a nude of me which is now hanging in an art gallery. How's that for Venus at work!

1.

See Daniel Giamario's excellent article about the Venus cycle in the Feb/Mar 1997 issue of TMA, "A Shamanic Investigation of Venus and Mars." >>

2. 3.

Ginette Paris, Pagan Meditations (Spring Publications, 1986), p. 60. >> In "alphabet" astrology, Mars, for example, is considered equivalent to Aries and the 1st house, Moon is equal to Cancer and the 4th house, etc. >>

"YOUR VENUS UNLEASHED", report by Dana Gerhardt

Unleashing Venus will change your life. See her as you've never Seen her before. Acknowledge her whispered desires and insistent shouts. Follow her trail of clues toward greater happiness. Based on extensive research, Dana Gerhard's unique report offers an inspiring analysis of your Venus sign, house, and aspects, including transits and progressions, and so much more.
M

Venus
by Dana Gerhardt

Venus has always been my guilty secret. I've got Venus in Scorpio. As a beginning astrologer I learned this meant I had an intense, seductive, and smoldering femininity. I wouldn't mind claiming this energy at all. I'd even make do with its shadow reputation as a vengeful sorceress. Yet the usual observations about Venus in Scorpio have never rung true for me. This is my unconscious planet. Years ago, my husband left me for a woman who probably was a Venus in Scorpio. She was dark, mysterious, and passionately sexual, "Everything," he said, "you're not."

My chart tells the story of my planet's dispossession. Venus falls in the 3rd house of siblings: My sister got the Venus in the family. She was my father's favorite. With long dark hair and almond eyes, she could ride bikes, roller skate, and gallop on a horse with ease. I was clumsy, wore glasses, and had short mousy brown hair, with nothing seductive about me. I always felt invisibly thwarted attempting Venus things. That's Pluto squaring Venus from my 12th house. Were Pluto in another house, I might be more intense, impassioned and perhaps obsessive, as this Pluto square is sometimes described. But mostly I've experienced this aspect as a deep inadequacy, even fear around men. My Venus is further squared by the Moon, a common signature for female rivalry. Typically this describes a mother-daughter competition, with the mother subtly undercutting the femininity of her rival daughter. Perhaps it was because of that other triangle in our family that my mother undercut my girly-ness by making me her favorite, with an ambiguous gender message. She praised me often for my brains and strength of character, but never for my beauty. Quite early, at age four or five perhaps, I gave up on being a girl. With Venus conjunct brainy Mercury, I've always gone for an androgynous, bookish style. Whatever passions I'm due from the Scorpio vibration, I've sublimated into 3rd house pursuits, as an ardent love for the beauty of language, a zeal for learning, a desire to probe the depths of thought. I was quite relieved during my pregnancy to learn I was having a son. Feeling so helpless around pink bows and lace, I was terrified of having a daughter. How would I dress her? How would I comb her hair? What could I possibly teach her? Being so absorbed in my own discomforts with Venus, it was some time before I lifted my head and discovered that many of you don't have such a good relationship with her either. We've got different stories indicating different dispossessions. But if we judge the health of the cultural Venus by the questions people ask astrologers, it's easy to conclude she is but scarcely held. After issues of purpose ("Who am I really?" and "What should I do with my life?), most people

want to know how to get more Venus things. They want more love, more money, more happiness, They want to be more attractive and feel appreciated by those they love. Cultural epidemics of low self esteem, marriages without passion, and work without joy are further proof of how much we lack and crave her.

So who is Venus really? She's more than sheer femininity. She presides over many of life's good things. Sure, she's the happy, flawless girls in beer commercials. But she's also a sensuous drip of chocolate, a lusty, carefree laugh. She's a string of diamonds, a deliciously lazy afternoon. If you want to raise your inner Venus, just dance your fingers across a silk sheet, or sniff the fine leather of a luxury car. Venus is wicked too, orgasmic, fun. She's also graceful and artistic. She's Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Onassis. She's the sensuality and fertility of earth in her Taurus emanation. She's sweet harmony and judicious balance in her aesthetic, airy Libra nature. You can locate her in an elegant mathematical equation. You can hear her singing through a wind chime or the morning chorus of birds. Drop an ice cube down your back and she'll squeal with delight. She's both poise and eroticism, wild abandon and good taste. As the goddess of love and abundance, she's what makes this earth so pleasurable. So why on earth should we have trouble with her at all? The Venus of today is hopelessly frustrated. Our most enduring pop Venus icon, Marilyn Monroe, is known at once for two qualities: her allure and her unhappiness. She's not alone. Consider Elizabeth Taylor, Jacqueline Kennedy and Lady Di, other late twentieth century Venus icons. Each had so much, yet was poignantly unsatisfied. What they possessed in money, status, and beauty, they seemed to lack in true love or personal happiness. Or so our myths about them go. Their stories confirm our modern expectationsof dashed hopes and great beauty yoked to

personal tragedy. Our romantic fantasies often glorify unhappinessthe ache of longing, the sweet sorrow of parting. It's truenot having something, can flush its best qualities to the surface. Yet how often, when we our desires are fulfilled, do we become complacent or critical, fully neglecting our joy? We may yearn after our romantic partners and make gods of them, so that they may (sigh) make up for all our life might lack. When they fall to earth with feet of clay, we go hunting for another fantasy. The essential poverty of this approach is the continual emptiness that inspires it. When we need someone or something to complete us, we have sent our Venus into the streets carrying a begging bowl.

It is no wonder that so many people go to astrologers hoping for some happy Venus news. Astrologers study Venus in a chart for clues about people's relationships and finances. Love and money represent our ideas of happiness. But are they Hers? What if the Venus placement actually suggests where we're meant to serve Her interests, rather than the other way around? In ancient times, if someone's life was going badly, the oracle's job was to identify which god or goddess had been offended and which offering would set things right. Most astrology books will tell me that Venus in Scorpio means I'm jealous and full of lust. But wouldn't it be more interesting if they revealed what Venus in Scorpio wants from meif they said not what I am like, but rather what I need to do? Until then my potential for pleasure may remain a sleeping beauty in a thorned forest. Can astrology bring the magic kiss that will wake my Venus up? Who is Venus really? And what matters to her? The Greeks knew her as Aphrodite. Their goddess is not a brilliant strategist like Athene, nor an able huntress like Artemis. She travels with men, but not as a competitor. Radiantly beautiful and exquisitely graceful, she is an irresistible femme, skilled in countless arts of attraction. She knows how to pleaseand is delighted to be pleased. The smith-god Hephaestos married her, but she's linked romantically with a host of others, including the gods Ares, Dionysus and Hermes, as well as mortals Adonis and Anchises. There are even incestuous whispers about

Zeus, her earth-aspect father. Among her many sons are the hero Aeneas, Priapus with his huge phallus, and Hermaphroditus with both male and female genitalia. Unabashed sexuality surrounds her. Of course her most famous son is Eros, that cherub of desire with devastating arrows. There are varied stories about her birth, but the most famous is that she rose up, fully formed, from the sea foam of Ouranos' severed genitals Temples were built to her and priestesses honored her with sexual arts. Often she's pictured standing naked on a giant sea shell (symbol of the vulva). Aphrodite's connection to both male and female genitalia is so pronounced, we must consider this key to understanding her values. Yet how do we draw that into our astrology charts? And how do we reconcile her unabashed sexuality with our twenty-first century feminist values? We've fought hard to take women beyond being sexual objects. We must further acknowledge the stain that two thousand years of Christianity has spilled on Aphrodite's unabashed erotic freefor-all. Most of us discover our erotic feelings in youth, alone and in secret. Not being able to share them with anyone forever taints our sexuality with a certain uneasiness and shame. We're constantly taught about the methods and virtues of work, but little is ever said about the skills and importance of pleasure. Nor can we take much comfort from the Middle Age legacy of courtly love. Despite being an affliction of a few privileged knights and troubadours, this chaste and idealistic style of loving has profoundly shapedand distortedour contemporary notions of romance. Pass sexy Aphrodite through all these filters and she comes out rather strained which may be why, unlike the Greeks, we've built no honest temple to her. Of course such neglect is the sort of thing to make a goddess mad.

In fact, psychologist James Hillman thinks Aphrodite is quite angry. This goddess of sexuality expects us to recognize that sex is a sacred and soulful force. She wants us to ignite with her divine spark, to become instruments of pleasure. She wants us to obliterate boredom and fatigue with heavenly joy, to taste, touch, and

smell our rich and beautiful world. She wants us to know that ecstatic communion with life force during sacred sex will make us feel healed and whole. Then our lives and all that we encounter will be blessed with Aphroditic laughter, sparkle and grace. But when we minimize her gift, when we secularize it, sneak it, shun it, and feel guilty about it, we have deeply dishonored her powers. A goddess scorned is a goddess out for revenge, and Venus does this, says Hillman through a pink madness. Says Venus, I shall invade every nook of the contemporary world that has refused me so long with a pink madness. I shall pornographize your cars and food, your ads and vacations, your books and films, your schools and your families. I'll get into your T-shirts and underwear, even into your diapers, into teenie boppers, their slogans and songs, and into the old ladies and gents in retirement colonies, on walkers in San Diego and Miami Beach. I'll show you by showing, until your minds are fuzzed pink with romantic desires, with longings to getawaytrysts, nests, sweets. That is, the civilization will be crazed to get into my preserve, my secret garden. I will excite your entire culture so that even those attempting to cure their neuroses, as well as their sober psychoanalysts, will have nothing better to talk about than desire, jouissance, seductions, incest, molestations and the gaze into the mirror. [1] With her abundant sexual encounters, Venus names our capacity to be promiscuous with all of life, to enjoy it, surrender to it, play with it, and create from it. When the Sun is creative, it wants to express itself and be acknowledged. Venus, however, creates just for the thrill of it. When Venus is engaged, our creativity is erotic. Her absence, therefore, may be why some creative projects fail, burdened with too much purpose and expectation. Venus reminds us that having fun is high art. And it's a deep value of the cosmos. Without the Sun there would be no life, but without Aphrodite's desire, represented by the embrace of gravity and the fertile, receptive body of earth, there would be no garden here, no creation, no beauty. That our earthly paradise should exist at all is quite remarkable. None of it is necessary. In a sense, it's all frills. But what frills! If we don't take pleasure in these daily frills of our existence, then we truly miss Venus/Aphrodite's point.

Dana Gerhardt

Having Venus in a chart, therefore, implies certain obligations. Whether she's in your 4th house of family and home, your 11th of friends, your 9th house of philosophy, wherever she appears, you need to answer her questions. Do you make this part of your life beautiful? Do you offer time for sensuous experiences here? Do you allow yourself to open and surrender? Do you laugh, do you appreciate, About Dana Gerhardt and are you playful, so that everyone around you is inspired by your joy? Venus' sign suggests how to decorate her temple, filling it with things that most comfort, honor, and please you. Read her aspects to other planets as stories of her escapades, where she was most delighted or perhaps challenged and even overcome. Let learning about your Venus be an act of pleasure, not a chore. Start with whatever happiness you find in her house and sign and build from that. Everyone has some joy, no matter how bleak their landscape. I'm reminded of a story a professor once told. He was walking through a cafeteria line with a suicidal colleague, when this man interrupted his depressed and misery-filled narration to instruct the server about a baked potato. Carefully he chose the one he wanted and all the extra treats to put on top of it. That was a moment, no matter how small, when Venus was alive, when desire overcame death.
Venus demands that we embrace our own delight. But given the cultural suppression of Venus, this isn't always easy. The Louvre's famousand armlessstatue of Venus de Milo names our psychic condition with cunning accuracy. A Venus without arms lacks the capacity for sensuous engagement with the world. She's incapable of the very embrace that defines her, wanting with eyes, mind and heart, but unable to have and hold. More instructive is Boticelli's La Primavera. In this painting Venus raises one hand in approval of the scene around her. She is Venus the appreciator, the aesthetic one. With her other hand she holds her robes, a gesture of selfpossession. Also inspiring is Boticelli's The Birth of Venus. Unlike the lovers on Keats' urn, forever reaching out, into the future, here Venus stands naked on her giant shell, fully centered in the moment, embracing her pleasure-body, queenly in her joy.

Those of us who don't come by this expression naturally need good Venus role models. I've been lucky to have three friends with Venus in the Gauquelin sectors [2] of their charts. One has Venus conjunct her Ascendant. Her situation is a striking echo of Aphrodite's story: She has a Hephaestos-like artisan husband who adorns her with his hand-made jewelry, and there's another man with whom she's having a passionate affair. Jill is an incurable flirt. When she's just outdone a rival, she makes a very convincing Venusian gesture of a proud and contented cat licking its paw. I once quizzed her about her flirting, an activity that's always confused me. She felt her secret was her laugh. "Men," she said, "know exactly what I mean when I laugh." Among the Greeks, Aphrodite was known as the laughterloving goddess. Laughter is Aphrodite's means to put us at ease. And it can send a signalthat we know a thing or two about having fun. My second friend has Venus conjunct the Midheaven. Carol has enjoyed good career success, having risen to a position of authority with a nice salary, despite just a high school education and being so much younger her peers. In the office, she's often the center of attention. And she's beautiful, knows exactly how to line and shade her eyes, and in a world that glorifies the anorectic female, is unashamed of the voluptuous curves inside her skin-tight jeans. She can be both bawdy and proper. At formal (Midheaven) occasions, she's quite keen on observing correct social forms. At her bridal shower, I watched how with remarkable grace and skill she transformed the modest livingroom gathering into the most important and elegant event in the world (it was to her). From Carol I've learned how Aphrodite's confidence and commitment to beauty makes the rest of us enjoy it too. My third friend has Venus conjunct her Descendant, in its own house, a place of honor. Andrea is tall and elegant. She wears pearls so naturally they look appropriate even in the laundromat. She has an almost obsessive passion for fine sheets. Early in life she wanted to be an artist, but contented herself with marrying one. I once asked her how she dealt with the attentions of men

she wasn't interested in, something that's always made me co-dependently apologetic. I suspected that kind of thing had happened to her a lot. She thought for a moment, then instinctively went into her 7th house for the answer. "I always try to put myself in their position, and then tell them in a way that I would like to hear." "But what if they don't get it?" I asked. "Then the kindest thing is to say it gently but very direct." It was the voice of Aphrodite, sweet but self-possessed. I've seen moments where each of these women went beyond mere mortal feminine skill. However, if I were to put my finger on the one feature that binds all three, it's this: I was incredibly disappointed when I finally met their men. There was nothing wrong with their fellows. It's just the way each woman had always talked about her lover, I expected someone no less than a god. Despite being with her mate for some time, each still speaks of her man with heavenly sighs and gauzy eyes, in that gushy way the rest of us reserve for our partners during the first three months. But their adoration is neither the fantasy of early romance nor a woman's subservience. All three are strong women and clearly aware of their lover's humanity. Yet they still see someone who delights them. And that is Aphrodite's deepest secret: She knows how to keep herself delighted in love. We might wonder therefore about Aphrodite's legendary promiscuity. What does promiscuity imply? Those who are promiscuous never settle into a relationship; therefore, each liaison has the excitement and curiosity of something new. At some point in our partnering, most of us trade Venus for the more demanding presence of our Moon. We want security, we have needs, we have a sense of the past. Losing spontaneity, we read deeper meanings into every action. If the Moon's partner forgets a request, the Moon is sure he or she just doesn't care. Slipping into old patterns, the Moon wonders whether her mate will ever make her happy. But self-possessed Venus sees disappointments otherwise, not as a reflection of her worthlessness, but as chance to discover more about her other. She may even be amusedtickled at the intensity that makes her lover absent-minded, delighted with his journal carried everywhere, crammed full of notes, because her lover, enthusiastic as a child, can't remember anything unless it's written down. It might even be what makes her mate more dear.

Venus as courtesan delights herself by being delighted. She loves to love whatever she sees. There's something thrilling about this kind of promiscuity. It's a willingness to be surprised. And it's a willingness to be insecure, not knowing where it all will lead. This kind of Eros is something we can take anywhereInto our marriages, our careers, even our relationships with children and friends, into each encounter with our world. This erotic engagement is well described well by the Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, [3] who suggests we should move through life with an expectant wonder, wondering, for example, when you flush a toilet if the water will swirl down or up, and how delightful when it swirls down. Can you imagine how interesting dinner will taste tonight if you don't know what to expect from your pasta? Can you imagine how delightful your child's presence will be if you're constantly unsure of who he or she is becoming? Perceived with fresh eyes and open heart, anything might be beautiful or fascinating, anything might inspire your love. Not all of Venus' stories are happy ones. After all, it was she who started the Trojan War. And there was that time her husband Hephaestos, suspecting infidelity, trapped her in a net lying naked with Ares, caught for all Mt. Olympus to ogle and laugh. The lesson here is clear: When you act from your Venus nature, you might just expose yourself. With Venus you name your values, which will reveal and may entrap you. She is the goddess of choices. And choices bring consequences. So there may always be a price to pay for her. You can play it cool but then your passion will disappear. Venus says Get hot. You may get into trouble. Maybe you'll start a war. Life won't be quite as safe. But then, without your Venus, would it really be much of a life?

1. 2.

James Hillman, "Pink Madness," Spring 57, Connecticut: Spring 1995, p. 41. Michel Gauquelin is a French statistician and astrologer who demonstrated the strength of planets within ten degrees on either side of the angles.

3.

Pema Chodron, Awakening Compassion, (Sounds True Audio, 1995)

MOONPRINTS by Dana Gerhardt

Popular with readers of "The Mountain Astrologer" for almost two decades, this beautiful report takes an in-depth look at your emotional foundations. You will gain new insights into your birth moon - its phase, sign, aspects, and house. Discover your life purpose, hidden talents and danger zones through the moon's nodes. Use the moon to position yourself in time - through transits to the moon, your progressed moon sign and house, dates for two progressed lunation cycles, plus a year of new and full moons around your chart. You'll want to read every page of this report, designed to please both beginners and advanced students of astrology.

The Moon Watching series by Dana Gerhardt

Part One: Lunar Intimacy

People often ask why I have devoted so much study to Moon phases. Initially it was an act of insecurity. I figured Moon phases were something every astrologer knew about, except me. As a child I had been told if I saw the Crescent Moon, it was wise to make a wish. A neighbor who gardened told me that the Moon guided her planting and pruning. Television taught me that when the Moon was Full people could go crazy. But my astrology classes hadn't taught me much beyond that.

I reviewed my collection of astrology texts. Across six shelves, I couldn't find more than a dozen pages about the phases of the Moon. I visited my favorite metaphysical bookstore. There was an entire aisle of astrology books, but not one was about the Moon. After four trips to other bookstores, I finally discovered The Lunation Cycle by Dane Rudhyar. I later learned this is the modern bible of lunar phases. Just about any astrologer working with the phases today draws heavily from this book.

But at the time, I found it a tough read. Three chapters into it, I was just turning pages, not digesting a single word. Rudhyar had an elegant conceptual understanding of the Moon, but his ideas seemed as remote from my personal experience as that tight-lipped, distant orb herself. Enter serendipity. A friend invited me to a Full Moon ceremony with a group of spiritual women. At last I would be initiated into the lunar mysteries!

On the night of the Full Moon, we drove to a small apartment behind a gas station and above a used rug shop. We entered to find a medicine wheel of stones and crystals on the floor of a windowless room. So much for my fantasy of dancing naked in a shaft of moonlight! Instead we smudged with sage and sweet grass and positioned ourselves

around the wheel. We chanted, meditated, took personal visionary journeys and shared. It was a lovely evening. But later that night, looking up at the glowing round Moon overhead, I felt no closer to her than before.

"I learned that earthworms, oysters, carrots, salamanders and other organisms move in rhythm to the Moon. But what about people?"

Maybe it would take time. I was eager for the next Moon ceremony until I learned there wouldn't be one. What I had assumed was a monthly ritual had been a novel event. Over the past year, the women in the circle had tried keeping up with the Moon, but life kept getting in their way. Kids got sick, somebody had a class, it was the holidays, cars broke down, relatives came from out of town. The Full Moon emerged as an ever lower priority.

It was another dead end in my quest for Moon knowledge. Disappointed, I began to question whether my goal had any real value. Given the paucity of written material, and the difficulty of real-time commitment to the lunar rhythms, perhaps the Moon's phases signified nothing at all!

It was time for science, where we eventually turn to verify if something is real or not. I checked Gauquelin's The Cosmic Clocks and other books, looking for statistical proof of Moon phase influence. I learned that earthworms, oysters, carrots, salamanders and other organisms move in rhythm to the Moon. But what about people? Folklore has it that the number of births, suicides, homicides, arsons, and incidents of domestic violence rise at certain phases of the Moon. Yet scientific evidence of this is remarkably hard to come by. Given the persistent popularity of beliefs about the Moon, you'd think the empiricists would have resolved this issue long ago. But formal scientific inquiries are few. And for every study claiming human behavior is Luna linked, another swears that it's not.

Statistics are tricky (or, science isn't always scientific). An example is a study which seemed to prove that traffic accidents increase during New and Full Moons. It was later observed that during the course of this study the lunar events fell on weekends, a time also correlated with greater accidents. When statistical controls for holidays and weekends were added by the researchers, the relationship between Moon phase and car wrecks disappeared. Another study showed that homicides were disproportionately high during the 24 hours before and after Full Moons. However, to get to this finding the data was run through such a myriad of statistical tests, discarding all negative results until the desired positive one was achieved, that the conclusion was virtually meaningless.[1]

"This fact never ceases to amaze me. People believe in the Moon's power enough to say so, but not enough to actually look up and keep track."

Most Moon lovers believe the studies that prove their faith and most scientists believe the ones that disprove it. Beyond that, I'm not sure what I learned from empirical investigations. Actually, one of my favorite studies is an informal one I've conducted myself over the years. I'll ask people, singly or in groups, whether they believe Moon phases have an influence. The majority will usually say yes. Yet when I ask the same people if they can tell me what phase the Moon is in now, remarkably few have any idea.

This fact never ceases to amaze me. People believe in the Moon's power enough to say so, but not enough to actually look up and keep track. By now it was my fascination with the whole Moon problem that glued me to it more than anything else. I was perpetually edgy about the Moon, trying to narrow the gap between folklore and fact, between lunar legends and my own experience, between my desire to touch the Moon's secrets and my fear that maybe there weren't any.

About this time Dane Rudhyar started looking really good to me. And so I pursued Moon phase knowledge within his conceptual framework. I was as rewarded by his perspective as I've been by any good astrological technique. Rudhyar likens the eight phases of the Moon cycle to an unfolding organic process. In Rudhyar's model, there's a gestation at the New Moon, a gradual growth and laying down of roots at the Crescent, a crisis of commitment at the First Quarter, adjustments and struggle for survival at the Gibbous phase. An illumination or flowering comes at the Full Moon; a pollinating or dispersal of knowledge is facilitated at the Disseminating phase. During the Last Quarter Moon, there's a crisis in belief as the fruit, or seed capsule for the next cycle, is prepared. The Balsamic Moon brings decay and letting go, releasing the seed for the wheel's next turn.

Rudhyar's framework is sound and remarkably versatile. It works for understanding the monthly lunation cycle (from one New Moon to the next). It works for describing life purpose and personality types based on the Moon phase one

was born under. It works remarkably well with more advanced techniques like secondary progressions; in fact, charting the progressing Moon phases over a 30-year period reveals a powerful life blueprint. Looking first at this technique in my own chart brought one of those spine-tingling moments as an astrologer: "My god, this really works!"

"Charting the progressing Moon phases over a 30-year period reveals a powerful life blueprint. Looking first at this technique in my own chart brought one of those spine-tingling moments as an astrologer: 'My god, this really works!'."

What Rudhyar teaches about the Moon also works for planets in aspect. A good grasp of the First Quarter phase, for example, can bring new understanding to any pair of natal planets in waxing square; or, from a transiting planet in opening square to a natal. Rudhyar's framework makes new sense not just of the Moon, it opens the whole chart, giving new meaning to Buddhist Shunryu Suzuki's sentiment, "When you understand one thing through and through, you can understand everything."

At last I knew more about the Moon than I did as a girl. As an astrologer I'd grown using Rudhyar's insights. I brought them into my readings. I gave talks about the lunation cycle at conferences. I was inspired to start designing my Moonprints report from this foundation. And I continued to explore Rudhyar's framework in the first version of thisMoon Watching series, published in TMA nine years ago. You'd think then, I would have finally found happiness in my quest for Moon knowledge.

But it wasn't so. Many nights, the Moon still seemed like a stranger to me. And, like the grit of sand-in-the-shoes after a walk on the beach, discomforting thoughts persisted. Rudhyar was good, but why did most astrologers, myself included, tend to simply parrot Rudhyar's phrases, rather than build upon,

evolve them? And why did the expectations for certain Moon phases fall flat at times? Some Quarter Moons, for example, were just as Rudhyar said, remarkably crisis-ridden; others were calm.

Sometimes we have to live with a question for years, which is what happened with my wondering about the Moon. Sometimes it can't be answered it's the wrong question. Such was the case with my Moon puzzle. As with most of my astrology studies, I had been looking for information, the kind of knowledge that would make me expert in the ways of the sky. Yet information alone does not make a good astrologer. Over time I've learned there's a big difference between acquiring concepts about charts and developing an active relationship with a living cosmos.

"In all my wanderings I'd come back to where I began, with the Moon as mystery, although I had stripped away a significant veil. It wasn't the Moon's veil. It was my own. My approach had been wrong, as an astrologer, as a goddess-worshiper dancing in a ceremonial circle, as an empiricist, a historian, as a wouldbe crone looking for herbal Moon secrets and cures. I had forgotten the most critical element of lunar expertise: the aspect of relationship. It had to be personal."

I've often pondered what Thomas Moore said in The Living Planets. He suggested that with the arrival of science and astronomy came something less fortunate: the steady loss of intimacy with the sky. Our analytical and mathematical intelligence resulted in a kind of technological wipeout of the Moon, culminating on July 20, 1969, when, says Moore, "through the omniscient eye of television we could all see the dust of Luna, the imprint of a human foot, wellheeled of course, and later a golf club teeing off on the body of what once was a daimon, a god, a celestial governor or archon." It was then, Moore argues, that "deeply felt ties with the planets were severed."[2]

To measure how much we've lost in our relationship with the Moon, we might imagine what it was like before written records, when the Moon was our calendar, making agriculture and migration, and ultimately, civilization, possible. Timing then was serious business. Fail to plant at the right time and the food supply would be destroyed by frost. Success could come, however, from counting five Moons after the winter solstice, an easier measure than 148 days. The Moon also helped in the business of tracking game, providing a measure of distance traveled, timing when a tribe should start moving again. She was a partner, intimately bound up in life's course.

Before electricity, our friend Moon helped to differentiate the weeks, with certain activities emerging as more phase-appropriate than others. During the waxing Moon, for example, each night brought an increase of evening light. We don't have to be too mystical to see why the waxing Moon was associated with a building time, for bringing projects to fruition during its greater bounty of useful hours. It's perfectly logical why the Full Moon was associated with lively times. Under its light communities could gather and celebrate after sundown, lovers could sneak into the forest for Moonlit trysts. Women's hormones may actually entrain to other women's more than they do to the Moon, but it makes sense that a village of women would ovulate together when the Moon was made for lovers.

Even as the practical need for moonlight diminished, poets and musicians and artists were still fascinated with her mystery. When the Eagle landed and Neil Armstrong took his one giant leap for mankind, the intimacy of this relationship may have reached its final limit. Mysterious Luna was undressed. That delicious enticement to the imaginations of lovers, sailors and gardeners, and the poet within us all, was literalized into gray rock and dust. So rudely exposed as that airless orb, that soundless satellite, the Moon fell off our imaginative landscape.

What happens when a revered body is grounded? Perhaps its divinity splinters in our psyches, hanging on as superstition or a kind of nostalgic fascination. Fanciful pictures of the Moon appear everywhere, in advertisements, on note cards, necklaces, earrings, wrapping paper, bed sheets, kitchen towels. We haven't fully let go of her. Yet our reverence and longing have been consumerized, intimate imaginings relinquished to borrowed imagery that we know is not exactly "real".

Lunar folklore and superstitions also rely on borrowed imagination. Belief may persist, but genuine awareness is lost. When things get crazy and someone wonders whether the Moon is Full, many will nod, but few will turn a confirming glance skyward. Game four of the 1993 World Series, for example, was so wild and unpredictable, the television commentator exclaimed "It must be a Full Moon!" The Moon was in her First Quarter phase, something anyone could have seen. Of course this didn't go into the annals of television history as much of a gaff.[3]

We might be forgiven. No one needs to know whether the Moon is full or not. And cognitive laziness is a fact of our species. We tend only to notice what confirms our beliefs; refuting evidence often escapes our attention. This is not,

however, a good practice for astrologers in the details of their profession. Observing life events against the phases of the Moon, I found that many Moon beliefs and astrology interpretations simply didn't hold. Was the information nonsense? Or did it mean that lunar influence just doesn't work with the mechanical regularity of a clock? Or was something further implied?

I think back to Moore's comment on intimacy. What if, as so many spiritual traditions affirm, the cosmos is indeed alive? If we take this as true, then our way is obvious: we need to approach the Moon as a living being. This is certainly easier said than done, given the modern tendency to see everything (including ourselves) as a machine, composed of parts that either work, require fixing, or discarding. The alternative is to read Luna as an influence that is neither controlling nor controllable, rather, predictable and capricious, alternately speaking and demurring, reaching toward us and turning away, knowable, but never completely, a being capable, in fact, of change. To relate this way requires a willingness to go beyond astrological information into the skill sets of receptivity and intuition, emptiness and imagination. It means renewed respect for her mystery, a word Moore defined as not an unsolvable puzzle, but "in the religious sense: unfathomable, beyond manipulation, showing traces of the finger of God at work."[4]

"Moon watching means loving mystery and being sensitive to the aliveness all around, on earth and in the sky. As the phases unfold each Moon cycle, there will be moments when we can indeed be the sage, like Rudhyar and others, working from our intellects. Other times we may need to be the lover, feeling the time's moods with our hearts."

In all my wanderings I'd come back to where I began, with the Moon as mystery, although I had stripped away a significant veil. It wasn't the Moon's veil. It was my own. My approach had been wrong, as an astrologer, as a goddess-worshiper dancing in a ceremonial circle, as an empiricist, a historian, as a would-be crone looking for herbal Moon secrets and cures. I had forgotten the most critical element of lunar expertise: the aspect of relationship. It had to be personal. And it had to be something much more dynamic than acquiring concepts. To be in relationship with the Moon suggests something as challenging and rewarding as any relationship, full of passion, gradual learning and delights, increasing comfort and frustrations, friction, boredom and surprise.

Relationship has never been my strong suit. It's fitting, however, that I should come to this aspect of the Moon now. I've recently moved, from California to Oregon. For the third time in my life, I'm embarking on the adventure of a committed relationship. I've sold the house I loved, quit the job I had for 16 years, uprooted my son - to marry a man

I've known and cherished for 31 years. Most days I feel blessed beyond measure. Some days I wonder what I've done. I wonder if I'm any readier to have a relationship with a man, than I am to have one with the Moon.

Intimacy, whether with a person or the sky, requires acceptance of many mysteries, including, perhaps especially, our own. It requires an alertness to the interactive dance that draws us all. In the end we may have to acknowledge that the Moon, or our lover, is less the cause of things and rather more our collaborator. We may have to accept a greater unpredictability in our endeavors and that we are as much implicated in our outcomes as any human or celestial "other". Such a perspective may seem at first to make us less secure. But it also brings new energy into the situation, opens up more room. It is a way to update our beliefs over time, a gift that can keep any relationship, including our astrological ones, fresh.

Yesterday was the Cancer New Moon. Days before I printed out and studied the chart. I considered the Cancer themes of nurture and mothering, of security and holding on, of this sign's element base, miraculous, life-giving water. I wondered about the oppositions of Pluto/Mars and Venus/Saturn, and on the day of the New Moon, I headed into the mystery of it all. At sundown I went out to the front yard. I started to gather stones into a ceremonial circle above our underground well, which along with others in the valley may be running dry. From nowhere my son appeared and we completed it together. We thought about the small dead frog we'd found that morning and placed it in the wheel. I was deeply moved by our impromptu ritual, though I was less an expert astrologer or ceremonial artist than I was simply the New Moon's playmate. Perhaps all that occurred was that the day was now a position against which the coming weeks' unfolding could be measured. And perhaps something unfathomable, beyond manipulation, full of divinity was also at play.

Moon watching means loving mystery and being sensitive to the aliveness all around, on earth and in the sky. As the phases unfold each Moon cycle, there will be moments when we can indeed be the sage, like Rudhyar and others, working from our intellects. Other times we may need to be the lover, feeling the time's moods with our hearts. And there may be moments in between when we are the hunter, hungry for nourishment, in pursuit of lunar secrets.

I look forward to writing this Moon Watching series again, endeavoring more consciously to take the ways of hunter, lover and sage, sharing astrology knowledge and a certain romantic imagination. In the coming eight installments, one for each Moon phase, we can collect the old concepts and deconstruct them when necessary. Let's listen to the cycle's rhythm. Let's take ourselves all the way to the Moon.

1.

See I. W. Kelly, James Rotton, and Roger Culver, "The Moon Was Full and Nothing Happened", The Outer Edge, Classic Investigations of the Paranormal, edited by Joe Nickell, Barry Karr and Tom Genoni, CSICOP (NY: 1996).

2. 3. 4.

Thomas Moore, The Planets Within, Lindisfarne Press (NY: 1990), p. 17-18. See Kelly, Rotton, Culver, op cit, p. 27-28. Thomas Moore, Soul Mates, HarperCollins (NY, 1994), p.xi.

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

The Moon Watching series by Dana Gerhardt

Part Two: The New Moon

I've been doing New Moon rituals for years. There's always a voice inside that wonders: "What good is this anyway?" Another voice usually replies, "Shut up, this is magic. You want magic, don't you?" The skeptical voice persists: "So what. You do a ritual or you skip it. It doesn't change the world." Cries the magic-loving voice: "Skip the New Moon and the gods will be angry. Better do it." When all else fails, guilt wins. I do it. And because I've kept the commitment, I've received a teaching over the years that goes beyond the intelligence of either the skeptic or the magic-lover. This knowledge is deeply lunar. And that it came gradually, across many New Moon rituals, is precisely the point.

Rituals can be a means for joining with the natural order. In ancient traditions, ceremonies timed to the Sun, Moon and seasons were genuinely collaborative, a way to ensure that the natural rhythms were sustained. Fail to keep the rhythms and the world would sicken. Today we're hampered by knowing the Sun and Moon will rise without our help. We cannot be as convinced, however, that the world hasn't sickened without our ritual attentions.

This is not my reason for keeping New Moon ceremonies. It's more personal. It's about the developmental value of repetition, returning to the same moment, with a similar intent, over time. This is what the Moon does, always bringing the Full Moon to the eastern horizon at sunset, without fail returning the waxing Crescent to the western sky two weeks later. I return too. At times I'll simply mouth words or mime gestures without much feeling or connection, until at one New Moon, I get such a deep "aha!" it resonates backwards and forward, charging both past and future ceremonies. Over the next New Moon something else is building. Nourished by the subtle weave of change, reflection and return, transformations come.

"The princess ventures out one day into the cool forest to play with her golden ball (symbolically, to find wholeness). By accident she drops the ball into a spring. Alas! Then a frog appears (he's really an enchanted prince). He retrieves the ball for her, and after one thing and another, the princess marries him (wholeness achieved). Who would have predicted where that innocent walk would lead?"

We get what anthropologist Mary Catherine Bateson calls "longitudinal epiphanies," discoveries that can only be made by walking the same path again and again.[1] It's a natural mode of learning well suited to ritual. Bates worries that we are losing our capacity for it. Our desires for freedom, novelty, entertainment, and speed make a stronger call. We hate being boxed in. Repeating traditional words and forms feels artificial. We worry that our ritualized spiritual experience lacks sincerity. We get bored. Especially if the ritual doesn't bring instant results, we may feel like we've been conned.

Perhaps we could learn from children, who can watch, with remarkably little restlessness, the same video, play the same game, listen to the same story, again and again. Not only can they do it, they love to do it. To the observing parent what the child gets from such repetition is often a mystery. But it might draw from the same reassuring secret the Moon tells every month: "You're back! Stay awhile. Let's go deeper. Who are you now? What do you see?" With each New Moon return, the particulars of our lives may have altered, but there is both continuity and opportunity in reaching the same temporal crossroads again.

A child watching Land Before Time over and over can seem possessed, as though the video had captured her, not

the other way around.

But what if no ritual form ever captures us? Can we

borrow a ritual from some foreign tradition? Without its heritage or training, will it have meaning for us? Or if we

decide to invent our own, will it lack the secret substance and power of forms created by ones spiritually wiser? What if we regularly show up for the New Moon, but improvise our ceremony every time? Does that count?

I wish I knew the answers. We live in chaotic times. My sense is that in the coming years, especially as Pluto moves through Capricorn, our desire to find stable forms and build stable structures will increase. (Editor's note: Pluto entered Capricorn 2008 and stays there till 2024.) In the meantime I think of one of my favorite B movies, "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome." In the movie, a group of post-apocalyptic children are stranded after an airplane crash. They learn how to survive in the deserted landscape. But they also develop rituals honoring their presumed past world, based on objects they find in the airplane debris - a broken videocassette, a girlie photo, a post card of the New York skyline. Their assumptions about the past are wildly inaccurate, but their rituals are creative and inspired. Reciting their stories, returning to their ritual container, is what binds the spirit of these stranded innocents together.

We might profit from their intelligence, despite its fictional source. In the end, it may matter less which ritual we choose, but that we choose one at all. It may not matter when we do our rituals either. At the Full Moon. On the fifteenth of every month. When a favorite flower blooms. I happen to like the New Moon. A nature-inspired time of renewal, it returns us, again and again, to the energy of beginning. Truth is, we begin many times, astrologically and otherwise. Every progressed or transiting conjunction or every move and job change represents another new start, just like the New Moon. When you keep a New Moon practice, you get wiser and wiser about what beginning means.

A good way to enter into the feeling quality of the New Moon is to recall a childhood "first time". Childhood beginnings are more pure, less burdened by experience's drag of expectations. I remember the first time I fed ducks. I was three and nobody had bothered to tell me what we were doing. We were in a car, then a parking lot, then somebody handed me a bag full of torn-up bread pieces. Uncomprehending, I started eating them. The adults laughed, the bag was pulled from my hands, I cried.

"Truth is, we begin many times, astrologically and otherwise. Every progressed or transiting conjunction or every move and job change represents another new start, just like the New Moon. When you keep a New Moon practice, you get wiser and wiser about what beginning means."

A not too auspicious beginning. And not unlike many a New Moon. We don't yet know about the duck-filled lake beyond the parking lot. The sky is dark then, the Moon having dipped below the horizon with the setting Sun. The

visual announcement of a new cycle's start won't show until a day or two later, when a slim Crescent appears in the west.

At first the subtlety of this eluded me. From my early studies I'd somehow gotten it into my head that the New Moon is like the cymbal crash at the beginning of a parade, a loud, frenetic time when everybody runs around, full of energy, enthusiastically starting new projects. During New Moons I watched the news and people around me, expecting to see major events and activity. Sometimes this happened, just as often it didn't. I wondered, was astrology wrong?

The Sun and Moon are conjunct at the New Moon. This does signal a tremendous concentration of energy, but it occurs outside our view. This suggests energy but little awareness, a common feature of beginnings. We like to think we direct ourselves into desired new directions, but more typically, we start our new cycles like the New Moon, in the dark. It's much like conception, another divine conjunction outside our view. We don't really know what we've begun until well after it's started.

Acting in darkness, we're feeling our way, not sure where it will all lead. This fits the special energy of conjunctions whether a New Moon, or a progressed or transiting planet comes into conjunction with a natal, even when there are conjunctions in the natal chart. There is a fusion of energy, a blurring of forces that brings a new opportunity, and some confusion. An urge is stirred, but toward what end? Which planet leads? Do the energies struggle against each other or blend to create something fresh?

Though the end isn't certain at the New Moon, go we must. We're headed for our first New Moon test. Stirred by energy without conscious intent, we can create anew or fall back on instinct. Most often we do what we already know, veering away from beckoning change. I ate the bread because, at three years of age, that's what I did with bread. Who knew you were supposed to feed it to ducks? Who even knew there were ducks?

What I've learned from keeping a regular New Moon practice is that without a lunar calendar, this moment is easy to miss. One busy work-week after another, we're rushed forward at the machine-like pace of modern life. Unwittingly we send our New Moon steps into old footprints. Despite twelve to thirteen New Moons every year, each one a celestial chance to build anew, people commonly land in the same situations month after month.

Astrology can help, but it can also make us cocky. We know when it's a New Moon. What's more, we have New Moon charts that can tell us what's coming. We can energize new goals by coordinating them with the house in our chart where the New Moon falls. I used to especially favor the goal approach. Then one Aquarian cycle I got my come-uppance and my paradigm changed.

The degree of that Aquarius New Moon fell into my 6th house. I considered 6th house things, my work, my health, my daily routines, and made the bright resolution to get newly organized in all these areas. As the lunar month advanced, I was caught completely off guard. My astrology business suddenly doubled, capricious computers at the office constantly came down with problems, storms strangled the traffic and abruptly changed schedules. Instead of making progress on my goals, I was stressed out of my mind. Then, in an Aquarian flash, I got it. The point of the cycle was to learn something new - to develop more Aquarian ingenuity.

Aquarius has always been in my 6th house and I've approached it as any Virgo Rising would. I'm forever trying to organize my work, health, and daily routines. That's what my goals were about, year after year at the Aquarius New Moon. I thought this was drawing down change! That cycle I finally tuned into the exquisite play of chaos and invention in my Aquarian 6th house. I learned to loosen up some of my Virgo rigidity, embrace the unexpected, and refine my astrological technique to include greater spontaneity and intuition. These gifts were not the result of conscious seed planting. They came from receptivity to the energy of the time.

"The Sun and Moon are conjunct at the New Moon. This does signal a tremendous concentration of energy, but it occurs outside our view. This suggests energy but little awareness, a common feature of beginnings. We like to think we direct ourselves into desired new directions, but more typically, we start our new cycles like the New Moon, in the dark."

It all made new sense to me. Because the New Moon is a Sun/Moon conjunction, we could be both solar (conscious) and lunar (receptive). We could set goals. We could strike out for some new adventure. But we should also remain alert for signs of a different adventure the gods might have planned. Some would say this is exactly what New Moon charts can reveal.

Yesterday I got an email from my friend Gloria who's been studying prediction and New Moon charts. The text she's been reading says when a 6th house New Moon squares a 3rd house natal planet, dire events can result. The Virgo New Moon was squaring Gloria's 3rd house Venus from the 6th. She was submitting her second novel to her publisher that week. She was worried: "Is something awful going to happen with my book?"

Though it's possible to see futures in New Moon charts, it runs so counter to the requirements of the time, I like it less and less. As an astrologer friend recently said, "Predictions rarely inspire us". In this case, the prediction had contracted Gloria to a worried point, hardly the best frame of mind to submit her project, let alone launch a new cycle.

If she withdrew her book because the chart said it was the wrong time, she would curtail the dance of the book's unfolding and whatever learning awaited her. She might also plant seed thoughts of insecurity for its next submission. Anyone working with predictions knows that a coming hard aspect holds many possibilities. It may be that the square wouldn't touch Gloria's book at all, but would bring yet another event. Whatever a New Moon chart might promise, going at it with an open readiness appears more optimal. I read New Moon charts more lightly now, preferring to "discover" their manifestations as a cycle progresses. Even goal-setting has begun to feel too aggressive, too hard-pointed, too premature for the nature of the time. That activity feels better at the next phase, the Crescent Moon. At New Moons I now fill with a soft aspiration towards the energized house in my chart. I don't paint the symbols in so much as open to them. The New Moon is a call to mindfulness in that part of my life.

This includes a readiness to raze what's old as much as to build something new. There's something slightly apocalyptic about each New Moon, that wants our old world, our old selves, to

die.

The deity most appropriate for this phase may be the Hindu god

Shiva, dancing in an awesome fire that builds as it destroys. Shiva would say "Lose that tense and studied gaze. New

Moons require an opening of body and soul. Raise your arms to the sky. Step your feet on the earth. Empty! Wonder! Dance!"

Each month the New Moon phase lasts from three to four days. It goes from the Sun/Moon conjunction, through their semi-sextile (30 degrees apart), to their semi-square, when the Moon is 45 degrees ahead of the Sun. Whenever I can, I like to take a brief "walkabout" during this period, heading out on foot or by car, with no other aim than to go somewhere and see what will happen. I go in the spirit of the princess in "The Frog King."

The princess embodies the maiden Moon. She's young and so beautiful that even the Sun, who's seen so many things, fills with wonder when he shines on her face. The princess ventures out one day into the cool forest to play with her golden ball (symbolically, to find wholeness). By accident she drops the ball into a spring. Alas! Then a frog appears (he's really an enchanted prince). He retrieves the ball for her, and after one thing and another, the princess marries him (wholeness achieved). Who would have predicted where that innocent walk would lead?

"The princess playing catch with her golden ball evokes the feel of a New Moon conjunction. Remember what it was like to play catch with just yourself? To soar with the ball as you thrust it and your spirit skyward? How you lost all sense of time and the outer world as you positioned yourself beneath the ball watching it fall towards you? We're infused with energy and a natural self-absorption."

My New Moon walkabouts are rarely so dramatic. (Though I'll admit there's been three lunations where I've indeed found a prince!) Mostly I go out each New Moon just to break my routine. Sometimes new inspirations dawn. Sometimes, as with the princess, an irritation or seeming misfortune leads to something new. The point is, I don't plan. As "The Frog King" suggests, during New Moon beginnings, even encounters with small common things, like forest frogs, can be auspicious.

The princess playing catch with her golden ball evokes the feel of a New Moon conjunction. Remember what it was like to play catch with just yourself? To soar with the ball as you thrust it and your spirit skyward? How you lost all sense of time and the outer world as you positioned yourself beneath the ball watching it fall towards you? We're infused with energy and a natural self-absorption. We're more into ourselves and less aware of the outer environment. Oppositions and squares remind us that the world is full of others, but at conjunctions, we aren't so provoked. It's as though all the world were self.

This strong subjectivity carries over to those born at the New Moon, gracing them with desires the rest of us wouldn't dare pursue. Blissfully unaware of our points-of-view, they don't know that what they're reaching for is so unheard of or impossible. New Moon types are pioneers, the great initiators and mavericks of our culture. They're here to say "yes" to their own special bundle of interests and abilities, taking that package as far as they can.

Find a few New Moon individuals and ask about their lives. These are interesting, eclectic people, like a successful businessman I know, who's president of a multi-million dollar research corporation and writes poetry, often sharing with his secretaries and clients CD's of the songs he's composed and performed.

Sometimes this unique collection of talents is more curse than blessing. With so many possibilities to choose from, New Moon types can find themselves stalled at the beginning again and again. These are the founders who haven't yet discovered what they'll found. There are no ready-made role models - they've got to blaze their own trail. But declaring one and sticking to it is hard. True to the nature of this phase, these New Moon babies tend to act instinctively without a clear sense of where it will lead.

"As with characters in our favorite books and movies, what we discover in the end is usually different from what we originally sought. The most important thing is to get moving. The next most important thing is to be alert for the moment when, like the princess, our golden ball drops in the pond. This is the semi-sextile, an aspect that's half of a sextile, or half an opportunity. It's one of those "castor oil" aspects. In the end it's good for us, but at the time it makes us grimace."

Astrology can help. Look to other planets in their chart to bring their potentials to fruition; in particular seek out placements in fixed signs. With a scattered chart or many mutable and cardinal planets or placements in the zero degree, focusing their aims may be especially hard. For these people Saturn or Pluto can help, by natal position or transit. Guide them towards transforming their Pluto obsession into a power to commit. Encourage them to reposition Saturn's limitations and fears into an application of diligence.

I remember a reading with a bright and talented New Moon woman nearing her 40th birthday. A painful metaphor for her persistent New Moon confusion was that she'd had several miscarriages and abortions over the years, but no children. She also had nearly a dozen careers and half as many relationships. She'd worked on an oil rig, trained horses, had been a carpenter, groomed lamas, sold vitamins, was an accountant, worked in a law office, on a farm,

and designed stained-glass windows. Ahead of her were transits most don't look forward to: Pluto was squaring natal Pluto, Saturn was crossing her North Node. But for her they worked well. What happened was she got pregnant and finally carried the birth to full term. Now she's a unique and happy mom.

We all become New Moon babies at one time or another. When our progressed Sun and Moon conjoin, an average two to three times in a lifetime, we enter a New Moon period that lasts from three to four years. Transiting outer planet conjunctions and inner planet returns can also have this character; understanding their "New-Moonness" may be an important way to read them. If we embrace new possibilities, we can certainly be forgiven our self absorption at these times. Our subjective self will be altered by coming events. Now it's the petrie dish that starts growing our quest.

As with characters in our favorite books and movies, what we discover in the end is usually different from what we originally sought. The most important thing is to get moving. The next most important thing is to be alert for the moment when, like the princess, our golden ball drops in the pond. This is the semi-sextile, an aspect that's half of a sextile, or half an opportunity. It's one of those "castor oil" aspects. In the end it's good for us, but at the time it makes us grimace.

Something occurs to interrupt our reverie. We don't like it, even though it's the uncomfortable moments that get us down to the business of change. We envy our friends' successes. Our spouse is mean to us. Our house is too small. Whatever it is, we're ready to deal with the frog, who says if we agree to his terms, we'll feel better again. The frog says if he retrieves the princess' ball, she must take him into her bed and share her meals with him forever after. Without any thought she says yes. At some point during this phase, we make a New Moon promise. Perhaps we have such an unbearable encounter with our boss that we rise up with renewed determination: "That's it, I'm getting a new career!" We feel good again, we get our wholeness back. We head back to the castle in our happy little dream, and, like the princess, suddenly discover this wart-filled frog hopping alongside. "But you promised!" he cries.

"What?! I didn't really mean it." We make a nasty face. The frog is pissed. It's the semi-square. What happens now? You'll have to wait until the next issue when we discuss the Crescent Moon!

1.

Mary Catherine Bateson, Peripheral Visions, (HarperCollins, 1994), p. 113

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

As earth's closest celestial ally, the m

Moon Watching series (6) by Dana Gerhardt

The Full Moon

I'd been too busy for any metaphysical life, but it was the night of the Full Moon, so I forced myself onto the balcony for a brief ceremony. It was the first time in days I'd sat quietly with myself. I was surprised to discover how peaceful the night was. A veil of blue-white moonlight fell gently over the patio. A faint odor of lemon blossoms played somewhat coyly with my senses. I locked my gaze onto the Moon and breathed in deeply. I felt my barriers dissolve. My etheric body seemed to merge with the night, as though I'd been drawn

into an invisible current of Full Moon tide... until... Until I could push it away no longer. Three balconies away, a dog was yapping. Nonstop. It was one of those tiny dogs, the kind with a bark so piercing, it goes straight to the center of your forehead like a small, well-placed hatchet. Possessing the stamina of long distance runners, dogs like this can go on for hours. My mood swung precariously... watching the Moon... trying to ignore the yips and yaps... when my desire for peace suddenly jumped off its end of the teeter totter and I fell headlong into a whine of persecution, "All I wanted was to honor the Moon, my life is so harried, can't I have just these few brief moments in peace... poor me, poor..." And then I got it. The message was as clear as the great round Moon above: Nothing was in my way. The dog was not my opponent, but an ally, bringing enlightenment. He was a mirror, reflecting the jittering, complaining, insecure, lonely state I'd been denying in myself for weeks. That night I was illuminated: There could be no outer peace in my life until first there was an inner one.

"Part of insights' mystique is their seemingly sudden and random appearance. Why do insights come when they do? We might be stumbling in the dark for days, desperate for illumination, yet nothing comes. According to Eastern traditions, the explanation may lie with the Moon."

Likely I saw this once on a bumper sticker. Or read it in one of those daily meditation books. But on this Full Moon it arrived as an insight, meaning I no longer heard the barking dog once I got it. That sound dissolved. Insights have a power that ideas do not. Ideas are cheap, easy to find. They swirl around us like dust devils. Insights, however, are sharp and penetrating. They go to the center of situations, illumine our stuck places, propel us toward new actions and perspectives. Insights pop. They're liberating. And their intensity can nourish us long after the moment they show up. Part of insights' mystique is their seemingly sudden and random appearance. Why do insights come when they do? We might be stumbling in the dark for days, desperate for illumination, yet nothing comes. According to Eastern traditions, the explanation may lie with the Moon. My

barking-dog insight appeared on the night of the Full Moon. The Full Moon period itself straddles both day and night - it's not necessary to make reference to the night here. Tibetan lamas and Hindu sages believe that at certain moments in the lunar cycle, especially at New and Full Moons, energetic doorways can open and receiving insights is easier. "Lunar gaps" is, what astrologer Michael Erlewine calls them, "regular opportunities, joints in the nick of time, when insights are somehow more possible than at other times."[1] Lest we start imagining a dramatic tear in the fabric of space/time, where insights rain down like a special effect in some sci fi movie, Erlewine is quick to point out that the gap he describes is actually a gap "in our particular set of obscurations, our own cloudiness."[2] The gap opens in our own (normally muddled) mind. It's the Eastern belief that insights appear at certain Moon times because there's a greater likelihood for mental clarity then. This is why many Eastern religions routinely set these days aside for fasting, meditation, and worship. One of the most auspicious of these lunar times is the Full Moon.

Years ago when I got the notion to start honoring the Full Moon, I went searching for a vaguely imagined pagan something-or-other, like dancing naked around a purple lunar maypole. Not surprisingly I never found (even in Southern California!) anywhere this was done. I settled for arranging my crystals in a medicine wheel in my backyard, lighting incense, sage or candles, and circumambulating it all, maybe holding a positive visualization, something lofty like world peace. But over the years my rituals acquired a greater and greater simplicity. I now honor the Full Moon with a quiet sit. I head out after sundown and wait for the Moon to come peeking over the mountains. I sit there watching till the Moon is fully above the mountains. This slows me down nicely. I head back into the house with a calmer mind, but I don't always bring enlightenment back inside. When I need an insight at the Full Moon, however, I do what Erlewine advises: I observe. Writes Erlewine, "The word 'observe' is a lot closer to what happens

during these lunar gaps. OBSERVE the nature of the day. OBSERVE your mind at that time. (...) It is while being present - observing these seed times - that the so-called lunar gap can show itself."[3] This is a fine formula for making the most of the Full Moon: Tune into whatever is happening. By devoting quiet attention to the outer and inner worlds, your mind can settle and clear. A gap will open in the chatter of conditioned thinking. An insight pops. You see into your situation with new and greater precision. Just as the Moon is made full with the opposing Sun's light, so you will be illuminated too. Mist covers the landscape. A Full Moon peers ominously through the clouds. In the distance, a wolf howls. Alone in his room, a man grabs his face in horror. Wolf hair sprouts from his hands and face, and quickly covers his whole body. His agonized screams convert to throaty growls. Racing into the night on all fours, teeth bared, he's ready to kill. This was a familiar scene in the horror films I grew up on. Of course I never met a real werewolf. But I often heard it said: the Full Moon drives people crazy.

Why is it that the Full Moon brings greater clarity to the East, but in the West on Full Moon nights, nurses and cocktail waitresses steel themselves for a wild and challenging time? In the West it's widely reported that murders, arson, and suicides increase at the Full Moon; also, traffic accidents, domestic violence, fights at hockey games and prisons; calls to poison centers and admissions to psychiatric hospitals soar. At least that's what people say, although most scientific research has failed to prove them right. That doesn't deter the believers, who chalk it up to a conspiracy among scientists to deny the obvious, that the Full Moon makes us nuts. There are a few empirical studies that have successfully proven this belief. They're widely quoted. They're also criticized for lacking proper research controls (one covered a period where a high percentage of Full Moons fell on weekends, days that also show a high correlation with the

reported behaviors). Bottom line, the Full-Moon-makes-us-crazy statistics can't be replicated. What's more, they often contradict each other, with some studies confirming that Quarter Moons bring the greater tension. Nonetheless, in a study among students at universities in Florida, Canada, and Hawaii, when queried about the Moon, half agreed that people are strange when the Moon is full.[4] Why does the belief in full-Moon crazies persist? Scientists point to the believers. The human mind is irrational and easy to fool, they say. It likes solutions, but rarely wants to work at them. When something odd occurs it's easy enough to look up and finger the giant lone culprit in the sky. Who can miss the Full Moon - although when wild, wacky events occur at other times, few seem to notice its absence. Cognition studies have shown the mind typically seeks to confirm its beliefs and conveniently ignores or discredits contrary evidence. In other words, we believe what we want to believe. "People don't realize how much trouble they invoke by their own expectations," says psychiatrist Melvin G. Goldzband. "When people take something like Friday the thirteenth or a Full Moon seriously, and they begin to dread what will happen on those days, trouble results. If you expect trouble to come, it'll come."[5]

"What's empirically true shows up in research reports. Imaginative truth comes out in rumors, myths and stories. Scientific truths happen to a statistically significant portion of us. Imaginative truths can capture an equally significant percentage, even though the literal event happened to just a handful of people, or never even happened at all. Imagination responds more to image than literal incident. And its force can shudder through millions at once."

After years of watching Full Moons, I'm inclined to side with the scientists. Blaming the Moon for bad behavior seems generally unfair. Many Full Moons are positively lovely. Nor have I killed anyone, gone into a hospital, or even gotten into an accident when the Moon was full. But I'm intrigued by the persistence of the lunacy rumor. Unlike a scientist, I can allow there are two different kinds of truth: the empirical and the imaginative.

What's empirically true shows up in research reports. Imaginative truth comes out in rumors, myths and stories. Scientific truths happen to a statistically significant portion of us. Imaginative truths can capture an equally significant percentage, even though the literal event happened to just a handful of people, or never even happened at all. Imagination responds more to image than literal incident. And its force can shudder through millions at once. Empirical facts we can count, but of imaginative ones, we need to ask: What does this story serve? What is it trying to tell us?

According to folklore, if you sleep outdoors under a Full Moon, you'll either be attacked by a werewolf or become one. Werewolf stories have appeared everywhere, in cultures diverse as England, Bavaria, Navajo, and Babylon. Why? A common thread seems to be the human one. As image, werewolves do describe an essential human conflict - from wild nature we emerged, but into societies we go. What do we do with our wild instincts? How do we quell them to abide peacefully with our fellows? How do we cope with those who don't? Like the opposing forces of Sun and Moon at Full Moon time, the werewolf evokes at once our desire for the wild and its repression. Today this dilemma is as difficult as ever. Cemented, corralled and cowed into our cubicles, or racing hither and yon, it's a wonder we don't hear more breakout werewolf rumors. But then maybe we do. With our connection to the wild so thinned, we may have simply upgraded the werewolf story, calling it "Full Moon crazies" rather than a literal turn back to the beast. The Full Moon may evoke strange behaviors when our natural spirit goes too long unrecognized - or when

we're around someone else like that. The more pent up and disconnected we are, the greater our need to erupt from civilized codes. If my theory is true, then reckless driving, domestic violence and suicide attempts can happen at anytime - not just when the Moon is full (which seems to agree with the statistics). But perhaps these events hit us more deeply when we see the Full Moon rise, evoking memories of all that we've lost, provoking our yearning to connect with the wholeness of nature again.

"So here's another formula for honoring the Full Moon: Instead of running from werewolves, become one. Mark your calendar and plan a Full Moon dropout from your regular routine. Make it a date between just you, your spirit, and the Moon. Surrender fully to your ancient wild self."

So here's another formula for honoring the Full Moon: Instead of running from werewolves, become one. Mark your calendar and plan a Full Moon dropout from your regular routine. Make it a date between just you, your spirit, and the Moon. Surrender fully to your ancient wild self. I doubt you'll really go crazy. You just might feel more sane. And if you've got the urge, know that it's quite all right to howl. A peaceful monk or a howling werewolf: the Full Moon makes sense of them both. There may be no greater emblem for reconciliation and wholeness than the Full Moon, rising at sunset and setting at dawn, filtering the dark with light. It's the only Moon phase that shines the whole night through. That one side of the planet finds clarity in the Full Moon and the other sees lunacy simply sings of the moment's astronomy: there is an opposition between Sun and Moon. The East, with its dharma of contemplation and greater identification with lunar impermanence, does what the Moon does: it reflects. It stills and offers itself to receive the light of awareness. Insights illumine the inner world. The West, with its dharma of action and greater identification with solar will, does what the Sun does: it projects. It finds its reflection in the outer world, staring back from a lunar mirror. Western Full Moon insights often come by way of conflict, via a meaningful meeting with someone other. Either approach might bring enlightenment. Both are routes to resolving the opposition and achieving a wider perspective on life.

"Resistance to the opposition brings conflicts, instability, resentment, blame, bad timing, stalemates, and a feeling of being pulled in two directions at once. Criticism or judgements suggest we've become overly identified with one side of the opposition. In a natal chart, one planet's expression may be easier for us than another's, so we make that other planet (or person who seems to embody it) wrong. And at the Full Moon, we may be standing too much in the Sun, full of ego, unable to relax into the necessary and more lunar dynamics of give-and-take."

If we meet an "other" on Full Moon nights (or by way of transit or opposition in our natal chart through planets separated by 180 degrees), the encounter will frequently mirror a neglected or unconscious aspect of ourselves. What we repress or deny in our personalities, what we shove into our own personal darkness, will often attract its expression in the outer world. The man who thinks he has no anger will meet someone who does. The woman who thinks she is supremely compassionate will keep finding people who aren't. An astrologer who thinks she's in tune with the lunar vibrations will suddenly hear her own nervous mind in a yapping dog three balconies away. Against the sometimes chaotic, sometimes endlessly routine experience of life, oppositions remind us of the need for balance. Whether by natal aspect or transit, oppositions challenge us to reach compromises between our expectations and reality, to embrace our inner contradictions, to move beyond our experience of a separate self into an acknowledgement of our unity with the world.They challenge us to realize that sometimes there are two valid and distinctly opposite points of view. Because life accommodates them, we can and should learn to as well. Resistance to the opposition brings conflicts, instability, resentment, blame, bad timing, stalemates, and a feeling of being pulled in two directions at once. Criticism or judgements suggest we've become overly identified with one side of the opposition. In a natal chart, one planet's expression may be easier for us than another's, so we make that other planet (or person who seems to embody it) wrong. And at the Full Moon, we may be standing too much in the Sun, full of ego, unable to relax into the necessary and more lunar dynamics of give-andtake. Until we allow ourselves to embrace multiple sides of an issue, there can be no experience of wholeness. Nothing resolves an opposition like acceptance.

This is a hard truth for me sometimes. Having no planetary oppositions in my chart, it's not natural for me to think this way. Ask the partners I've been with! They'll tell you that according to Dana, there is only one way to meditate, load a dishwasher or train a dog. I've got the bottom line on raising children, and if I need to do laundry, the washing machine is suddenly, quite exclusively mine. Those without oppositions tend more towards self-containment than compromise. Where there's a void in the chart, we attract those who have what we lack. Typically I've been with men whose charts are laced with oppositions. The draw between us is powerful. Yet on the surface we can both appear pretty uncompromising. My opposition-rich partners are trying to work out a balance between opposing inner urges. They want things to be fair, but are also afraid of being swept into acquiescence or paralyzed by feelings of dependency. I take a stand, they resist it; we switch and do it the other way around. Straining and stumbling, we're trying to learn what healthy compromise really is. Perhaps the only real difference between us is that I end arguments with "I'd be fine by myself," while they conclude "I'd be fine with somebody else"! Oppositions offer a tantalizing gift of wholeness. But like a wise teacher using skillful means, they lead us first to what stands in our way. So strong has the pressure of Saturn-and-Pluto's opposition been this past year (in 2001/2002; editor's note), few among us have escaped its confrontation of our limits and obstinacy. Where this pair of planets has straddled our charts is where our cherished beliefs, like so many World Trade Centers, have been toppled, however traumatically, so that we might more seriously begin the work toward inner and outer peace. Whatever your politics, the stalemate between the Palestinians and the Israelis, stands as a kind of global Sabian image of an opposition not worked through.

"The Full Moon can bring achievements, awards and honors too. Particularly at the progressed Full Moon. This is a three-to-four-year period occurring once every twenty-eight years, when we reap the rewards of our efforts during the preceding fourteen. Luna presides with neutrality over the following axiom: Whatever seeds we sow at the New Moon, and consciously or unconsciously tend during the waxing hemi-cycle, at the Full Moon we will see what comes of the plant."

Oppositions reveal. Just as Luna on Full Moon nights fully accepts the light of the Sun, so must we accept whatever truths shine toward us. These won't always be negative. The Full Moon can bring achievements, awards and honors too. Particularly at the progressed Full Moon. This is a three-to-four-year period occurring once every twenty-eight years, when we reap the rewards of our efforts during the preceding fourteen. Luna presides with neutrality over the following axiom: Whatever seeds we sow at the New Moon, and consciously or unconsciously tend during the waxing hemi-cycle, at the Full Moon we will see what comes of the plant. The lunation cycle's climax can bring fulfillment or failure. Either way, life goes on. The Full Moon is also a turning point. It begins the waning hemi-cycle. After the Sun/Moon opposition, comes the Full Moon period's inconjunct - an aspect of disequilibrium. The waxing inconjunct at the Gibbous phase asks us to make last minute adjustments and refinements. The Full Moon's inconjunct reminds us that no matter what pinnacles or valleys we've reached, life doesn't stop. Perhaps it's this awareness that inspires a more philosophical tone during the waning hemi-cycle. We're drawn to build and achieve during the waxing days, but in the waning days we're moved to review, discard, and perhaps reorient ourselves. It's a more thoughtful,internal time. Those born at the Full Moon are often pulled between these two orientations. And typically their stress is worked out through relationships. For virtually every Full Mooner I've known, relationships are a central theme in their lives. Whether it's one key relationship that seems to supply their center of gravity, or a series of traumatic relationships that gradually matures their understanding, or even a repudiation of relationships to keep themselves sane - negotiating a balance via the "other" is an important way to reconcile the special lunar energy in their chart.

Achieving wholeness is a weighty birthright. Full Moon babies may instinctively (and perhaps overwhelmingly) feel, to paraphrase Walt Whitman, that they "contain multitudes." They often have high expectations of themselves, an urge towards greatness, a desire to achieve something significant this lifetime. It's said that Buddha was born on the Full Moon. His influence has endured for thousands of years. And at the core of his teachings lies an incredible reconciliation of life's myriad oppositions: all selves, says Buddha, are one. That's a nice thing to contemplate during the next Full Moon.

1.

Michael Erlewine, "Lunar Gaps: Taking Advantage of the Lunar Cycle", in Astrology's Special Measurements, ed. By Noel Tyl, (Saint Paul, Minnesota: Llewellyn Publications, 1994), p. 123-124.

2. 3. 4.

ibid, p. 123. ibid, p. 119-120. These studies can be found I. W. Kelly, James Rotton, Roger Culver, "The Moon Was Full and Nothing Happened: A Review of Studies on the Moon and Human Behavior and Human Belief" (Skeptical Enquirer, Vol. 10, Winter '85-'86).

5.

Quoted in Rosemary Ellen Guiley, Moonscapes (Prentice Hall Press, 1991), p. 148-149.

TWELVE MOONS WORKSHOP

Planets in astrology
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Astrology

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Background

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Planets in astrology have a meaning different from the modern astronomical understanding of what a planet is. Before the age of telescopes, the night sky was thought to consist of two very similar components: fixed stars, which remained motionless in relation to each other, and "wandering stars" (Ancient Greek: asteres planetai), which moved relative to the fixed stars over the course of the year. To the Greeks and the other earliest astronomers, this group comprised the five planets visible to the naked eye, and excluded the Earth. Although strictly the term "planet" applied only to those five objects, the term was latterly broadened, particularly in the Middle Ages, to include the Sun and theMoon (sometimes referred to as "Lights"[1]), making a total of seven planets. Astrologers retain this definition today. To ancient astrologers, the planets represented the will of the gods and their direct influence upon human affairs. To modern astrologers the planets represent basic drives or urges in the unconscious,[2] or energy flow

regulators representing dimensions of experience.[3] They express themselves with different qualities in the twelve signs of the zodiac and in the twelve houses. The planets are also related to each other in the form of aspects. Modern astrologers differ on the source of the planets' influence. Hone writes that the planets exert it directly through gravitation or another, unknown influence.[4] Others hold that the planets have no direct influence in themselves, but are mirrors of basic organizing principles in the universe. In other words, the basic patterns of the universe repeat themselves everywhere, in fractal-like fashion, and "as above so below".[citation
needed]

Therefore, the patterns that the planets make in the sky reflect the ebb and flow of basic human impulses.

The planets are also associated, especially in the Chinese tradition, with the basic forces of nature. Listed below are the specific meanings and domains associated with the astrological planets since ancient times, with the main focus on the Western astrological tradition. The planets in Hindu astrology are known as the Navagraha or "nine realms". In Chinese astrology, the planets are associated with the life forces of yin and yang and the five elements, which play an important role in the Chinese form of geomancy known as Feng Shui.
Contents
[hide]

1 Planetary symbolism

1.1 Daily motion

2 History 3 Classical planets

o o o o o o o

3.1 Sun 3.2 Moon 3.3 Mercury 3.4 Venus 3.5 Mars 3.6 Jupiter 3.7 Saturn

4 Modern planets

o o o o

4.1 Uranus 4.2 Neptune 4.3 Pluto 4.4 Ceres

5 Planetary traditions compared 6 Other solar system bodies 7 Hypothetical planets 8 Ruling planets of the astrological signs and houses 9 See also 10 Notes 11 References 12 External links

Planetary symbolism[edit]
Main article: Astrological symbol This table shows the astrological planets (as distinct from the astronomical) and the Greek and Roman deities associated with them. In most cases, the English name for planets derives from the name of a Roman god or goddess. Also of interest is the conflation of the Roman god with a similar Greek god. In some cases, it is the same deity with two different names.

Plane Symb t ol

Roma n deity

Greek God

Hindu God

Meaning Connecti (Europea on n)

Meaning (Vedic)

Sun

(Helios) Sol (Apol Apollo lo)

(Surya)

ancient

Solar incarnatio n God of Prophecy; Helios means "sun."

The Sun God Son of Aditi and Kashyap; Surya means "the supreme light."

Moon

Luna Diana

(Selene ) (Arte mis)

(Chandra)

ancient

Lunar incarnatio n Goddess of Hunt; Selene means "moon."

The Moon God Associated with impatience of human nature. Always found feathered on the head of Lord Shiva; Chandra means

"shining."

Mercu ry

Mercu ry (Hermes)

(Buddha)

ancient

A planet god known for his intelligence; Budha means Messenger "awakening, God clever, intelligent, wise, learned man, wise man, or sage."[5]

Venus

Venus

(Aphrodite)

(Shukra)

ancient

The mentor of Asuras. Associated with Goddess of fertility and romance; enthusiasm. Venus Always helped means demons in the war "love" or against gods; "sexual Shukra means desire."[6] "clear, pure, brightness, or clearness."

Mars

Mars

(Ares)

(Mangala)

ancient

God of War

Son of Earth. This planet is associated with unluckiness of brides. Also associated with strength.

Ceres

Ceres

(Demeter)

(Shakti)

modern

Goddess of the seasons; Demeter means "Earth Mother."[7]

[8]

The Great Divine Mother in Hinduism; Shakti means "power, strength, might, energy, or capacity."[9]

Jupite r

Jupite (Zeus) r

, (Guru,Brihas ancient pati)

Leader of the Gods; Jupiter means "Sky Father."

Mentor/Guru /tea cher of gods. Always helped gods in war against demons. Guru means "teacher" or "priest." Brihaspati means "lord of prayer or devotion."[10]

Saturn

Saturn

(Cronus)

(Shani)

ancient

God of Agricultur Shani ( ) comes e from the following: Shanaye Kramati Sa: ( ) i.e. the one who moves slowly, as Saturn takes about 30 years to revolve around the sun.

God of "Duty". Punishes the person who does not do his duty properly. Saturn (Shani) tests a person every 22.5 years; the test lasts for a period of 7.5 years (Sadesati). The origin of word

Uranu s

Caelus

(Uranos)

(Vasuki) modern

Incarnatio n of the Sky; "Uranus" and "Caelus" both mean

A mythological snake king in Indian Puranas. Vasuki means "of divine being."[11]

"sky."

Neptu ne

Neptu ne (Poseidon)

(Varuna)

modern

God of rain in Indian mythology; God of the Varuna means Sea "God of the sea."[12]

Pluto

Pluto

(Pluton)/ (Hades)

(Kubera)

modern

God of wealth. Kubera gave a God of the loan to Underworl lord Vishnu to d; Hades search for his means wife Lakshmi who "the had quarreled unseen" with Vishnu and and Pluto left their home. means Kubera means "wealth." "deformed" or "monstrous."

Daily motion[edit]
Planet Average speed (geocentric)
[13]

Highest speed (geocentric)

[13]

Lowest speed (geocentric)

[14]

Sun

0059'08"

0103'00"

0057'10"

Moon

1310'35"

1630'00"

1145'36"

Mercury

0123'00"

0225'00"

0130'00"

Venus

0112'00"

0122'00"

0041'12"

Mars

0031'27"

0052'00"

0026'12"

Planet

Average speed (geocentric)

[13]

Highest speed (geocentric)

[13]

Lowest speed (geocentric)

[14]

Ceres

0012'40"

0030'00"

0016'00"

Jupiter

0004'59"

0015'40"

0008'50"

Saturn

0002'01"

0008'48"

0005'30"

Uranus

0000'42"

0004'00"

0002'40"

Neptune

0000'24"

0002'25"

0001'45"

Pluto

0000'15"

0002'30"

0001'48"

Pallas

0012'20"

0040'30"

0022'30"

Juno

0014'15"

0039'00"

0018'00"

Vesta

0016'15"

0036'00"

0017'32"

Chiron

0002'00"

0010'00"

0006'00"

History[edit]

The geocentric Ptolemaic system of the universe depicted by Andreas Cellarius, 166061

Treatises on the Ptolemaic planets and their influence on people born "under their reign" appear in block book form, so-called "planet books" orPlanetebcher, from about 1460 in southern Germany, and remain popular throughout the German Renaissance, exerting great iconographical influence far into the 17th century. A notable early example is the Hausbuch of Wolfegg of c. 1470. Even earlier, Hans Talhoffer, in a 1459 manuscript, includes a treatise on planets and planet-children. These books usually list a male and a female Titan with each planet, Cronus and Rhea with Saturn, Eurymedon and Themis with Jupiter, Hyperion andTheia with Sun, Atlas and Phoebe with Moon, Coeus and Metis with Mercury and Oceanus and Tethys with Venus.[15] The qualities inherited from the planets by their children are as follows:

Saturn: melancholy and apathy Jupiter: hunting Mars: soldiering and warfare Sun: music and athleticism Moon: association with water and travel Mercury: money and commerce Venus: amorousness and passion.[16]

Classical planets[edit]
The seven classical planets are those easily seen with the naked eye, and were thus known to ancient astrologers. They are the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. Sometimes, the Sun and Moon were referred to as "the lights" or the "luminaries". Ceres and Uranus can also just be seen with the

naked eye, though no ancient culture appears to have taken note of them. The astrological descriptions attached to the seven classical planets have been preserved since ancient times. Astrologers call the seven classical planets "the seven personal and social planets", because they are said to represent the basic human drives of every individual.[citation needed] The personal planets are the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus and Mars. The social or transpersonal planets are Jupiter and Saturn. Jupiter and Saturn are often called the first of the "transpersonal" or "transcendent" planets as they represent a transition from the inner personal planets to the outer modern, impersonal planets. The outer modern planets Uranus, Neptune and Pluto are often called the collective or transcendental planets.[17] The following is a list of the planets and their associated characteristics.[18]

Sun[edit]

Helios on a relief from Ilion, early 4th-century BC

The Sun (

) is the planetary ruler of Leo and is exalted in Aries. In Greek mythology, the Sun was

represented by the Titans Hyperion and Helios(Roman Sol, and later by Apollo, the god of light. The Sun is the star at the center of our solar system, around which the Earth and other planets revolve and provides us with heat and light. The arc that the Sun travels in every year, rising and setting in a slightly different place each day, is therefore in reality a reflection of the Earth's own orbit around the Sun. This arc is larger the farther north or south from the equator latitude, giving a more extreme difference between day and night and between seasons during the year. The Sun travels through the twelve signs of the zodiac on its annual journey, spending about a month in each. The Sun's position on a person's birthday therefore determines what is usually called his or her "sun" sign. However, the sun sign allotment varies between Western (sign change around 22-23 of every month) and Hindu astrology (sign change around 14-15 of every month) due the different systems of planetary calculations, following the tropical and sidereal definitions respectively.

The Sun, the star at the center of the Solar System

Astrologically, the Sun is usually thought to represent the conscious ego, the self and its expression, personal power, pride and authority, leadership qualities and the principles of creativity, spontaneity, health and vitality, the sum of which is named the "life force". The 1st-century poet Marcus Manilius in his epic, 8000-verse poem, Astronomica, described the Sun, or Sol, as benign and favorable. In medicine, the Sun is associated with the heart, circulatory system,[19] and the thymus. In Ayurveda, it rules over life-force (praan-shakti), governs bile temperament (pitta), stomach, bones and eyes. In modern astrology, the Sun is the ruler of the fifth house and the zodiac sign of Leo. The Sun is associated with Sunday. Dante Alighieri associated the Sun with the liberal art of music. In Chinese astrology, the Sun represents Yang, the active, assertive masculine life principle.

Moon[edit]

Luna or Diana, wearing a crescent-moon crown and driving her ox-drawn chariot (biga), on theParabiago plate (2nd5th centuries AD)

The Moon (

) is the ruling planet of Cancer and is exalted in Taurus. In Roman mythology, the Moon

was Luna, at times identified with Diana. The Moon is large enough for its gravity to affect the Earth, stabilizing its orbit and producing the regular ebb and flow of the tides. The lunar day syncs up with its orbit around Earth in such a manner that the same side of the Moon always faces the Earth and the other side, known as the "far side of the Moon" faces towards space. The moon is used to characterise the inner child within us, as well as the past and how we have been as individuals rather than how we are now. It is also used to represent the perception one has of one's mother, so someone with a Pisces Moon would be more likely to see their mother as a Piscean type, even if in reality that was not the case. In the horoscope the aspects the moon makes with other planets and the transits the slower moving planets make to the moon are all said to have a strong impact on how our lives unfold.

Full Moon

Astrologically the Moon is associated with a person's emotional make-up, unconscious habits, rhythms, memories, moods and their ability to react and adapt to those around them. It is also associated with the mother, maternal instincts or the urge to nurture, the home, the need for security and the past, especially early experiences and childhood. The 1st-century poet Manilius, described the Moon or Luna, as melancholic. In medicine, the Moon is associated with the digestive system, stomach, breasts, the ovaries and menstruation (which does occur on a monthly cycle)[20] and the pancreas. Despite Manilius' assignation, the Moon is commonly associated with the phlegmatic humor; it ruled the animal spirits. In modern astrology, the Moon is the ruler of the fourth house, Cancer. The Moon or Luna is associated with Monday, and in Romance languages, the name for Monday comes from luna (e.g., luni in Romanian, lundi in French, lunes in Spanish and lunedi in Italian). In Chinese astrology, the Moon represents Yin, the passive and receptive feminine life principle. In Indian astrology, the Moon is called Chandra or Soma and represents the mind, queenship and mother. The north lunar node (called Rahu) and the south lunar node (called Ketu) are considered to be of particular importance and are given an equal place alongside the seven classical planets as part of the nine navagraha.

Mercury[edit]

Flying Mercury (late 16th-century) by Giambologna

Mercury (

) is the ruling planet of Gemini and Virgo and is exalted in the latter; it is the only planet with

rulership and exaltation both in the same sign (Virgo). In Roman mythology, Mercury is the messenger of the

gods, noted for his speed and swiftness. Echoing this, the scorching, airless world Mercury circles the Sun on the fastest orbit of any planet. Mercury takes only 88 days to orbit the Sun, spending about 7.33 days in each sign of the zodiac. Mercury is so close to the Sun that only a brief period exists after the Sun has set where it can be seen with the naked eye, before following the Sun beyond the horizon.[citation needed] Astrologically, Mercury represents the principles of communication, mentality, thinking patterns, rationality and reasoning and adaptability and variability. Mercury governs schooling and education, the immediate environment of neighbors, siblings and cousins, transport over short distances, messages and forms of communication such as post, email and telephone, newspapers, journalism and writing, information gathering skills and physical dexterity. The 1st-century poet Manilius described Mercury as an inconstant, vivacious and curious planet.

The planetMercury

In medicine, Mercury is associated with the nervous system, the brain, the respiratory system, the thyroid and the sense organs. It is traditionally held to be essentially cold and dry, according to its placement in the zodiac and in any aspects to other planets. It is linked to the animal spirits. Today, Mercury is regarded as the ruler of the third and sixth houses; traditionally, it had the joy in the first house. Mercury is the messenger of the gods in mythology. It is the planet of day-to-day expression and relationships. Mercury's action is to take things apart and put them back together again. It is an opportunistic planet, decidedly unemotional and curious. Mercury rules over Wednesday. In Romance languages, the word for Wednesday is often similar to Mercury (miercuri in Romanian, mercredi in French, miercoles in Spanish and "mercoled" in Italian). Dante Alighieri associated Mercury with the liberal art of dialectic.[citation needed] In Indian astrology, Mercury is called Budha, a word related toBuddhi ("intelligence") and represents communication.[citation needed]

Venus[edit]

Venus, wearing the sign of Libra on her midsection, and Taurus at her feet, at Cardiff Castle, Wales

Venus (

) is the ruling planet of Taurus and Libra and is exalted in Pisces. In roman mythology, Venus is the

goddess of love and beauty, famous for the passions she could stir among the gods. Her cults may represent the religiously legitimate charm and seduction of the divine by mortals, in contrast to the formal, contractual relations between most members of Rome's official pantheon and the state, and the unofficial, illicit manipulation of divine forces through magic. The ambivalence of her function is suggested in the etymological relationship of the root *venes- with Latin venenum (poison, venom), in the sense of "a charm, magic philtre". Venus orbits the Sun in 225 days, spending about 18.75 days in each sign of the zodiac. Venus is the second brightest object in the night sky, the Moon being the brightest. It is usually beheld as a twin planet to Earth. Astrologically, Venus is associated with the principles of harmony, beauty, balance, feelings and affections and the urge to sympathize and unite with others. It is involved with the desire for pleasure, comfort and ease. It governs romantic relations, marriage and business partnerships, sex (the origin of the words 'venery' and 'venereal'), the arts, fashion and social life. The 1st-century poet Marcus Manilius described Venus as generous and fecund and the lesser benefic.

The planet Venus

The planet Venus In medicine, Venus is associated with the lumbar region, the veins, parathyroids, throat and kidneys. Venus was thought to be moderately warm and moist and was associated with the phlegmatic humor. Venus is the ruler of the second and seventh houses. Venus is the planet of Friday. In languages deriving from Latin, such as Romanian, Spanish, French, and Italian, the word for Friday often resembles the word Venus (vineri, viernes, vendredi and "venerd" respectively). Dante Alighieri associated Venus with the liberal art ofrhetoric.[21]In Chinese astrology, Venus is associated with the element metal, which is unyielding, strong and persistent. In Indian astrology, Venus is known as Shukra and represents wealth, pleasure and reproduction. In Norse Paganism, the planet is associated toFreyja, the goddess of love, beauty and fertility.[citation needed]

Mars[edit]

Early 18th-century illustration of Mars (al-mirrikh) for the Bestiary of Zakariya al-Qazwini(Walters Art Museum)

Mars (

) is the ruling planet of Aries,Scorpio]] and is exalted in Capricorn. Mars is the Roman god of war and

bloodshed, whose symbol is a spear and shield. Both the soil of Mars and the hemoglobin of human blood are rich in iron and because of this they share its distinct deep red color.[22] He was second in importance only to Jupiter, and he was the most prominent of the military gods worshipped by the Roman legions. Mars orbits the Sun in 687 days, spending about 57.25 days in each sign of the zodiac. It is also the first planet that orbits outside of Earth's orbit, making it the first planet that does not set along with the Sun. Mars has two permanent polar ice caps. During a pole's winter, it lies in continuous darkness, chilling the surface and causing the deposition of 2530% of the atmosphere into slabs of CO2 ice (dry ice). Astrologically, Mars is associated with confidence and self-assertion, aggression, sexuality, energy, strength, ambition and impulsiveness. Mars governs sports, competitions and physical activities in general. The 1stcentury poet Manilius, described the planet as ardent and as the lesser malefic. In medicine, Mars presides over the genitals, the muscular system, the gonads and adrenal glands. It was traditionally held to be hot and excessively dry and ruled the cholerichumor. It was associated with fever, accidents, trauma, pain and surgery.

The planet Mars

In modern astrology, Mars is said to rule the first and eighth houses; traditionally, however, Mars ruled the third and tenth houses. While Venus tends to the overall relationship atmosphere, Mars is the passionate impulse and action, the masculine aspect, discipline, will-power and stamina. Mars is associated with Tuesday and in Romance languages the word for Tuesday often resembles Mars (in Romanian, mari, in Spanish,martes, in French, mardi and in Italian "marted"). The English "Tuesday" is a modernised form of "Tyr's Day", Tyr being the Germanic analogue to Mars. Dante Alighieri associated Mars with the liberal art of arithmetic. In Chinese astrology, Mars is ruled by the element fire, which is passionate, energetic and adventurous. In Indian astrology, Mars is called Mangala and represents energy, confidence and ego.[citation needed]

Jupiter[edit]

Jupiter enthroned, with the symbols of Pisces and Sagittarius at his feet (woodcutby Johannes Regiomontanus, 1512)

Jupiter (

) is the ruling planet of Sagittarius and is exalted in Cancer. In Roman mythology, Jupiter is the

ruler of the gods and their guardian and protector, and his symbol is the thunderbolt. The Romans believed that Jupiter granted them supremacy because they had honored him more than any other people had. Jupiter was "the fount of the auspices upon which the relationship of the city with the gods rested." He personified the divine authority of Rome's highest offices, internal organization, and external relations. His image in the Republican and Imperial Capitol bore regalia associated with Rome's ancient kings and the highest consular and Imperial honours. In the same way, the planet Jupiter is the king of the other planets, a giant in size with spectacular, brightly colored clouds and intense storms.[23]Some astronomers believe that it plays an important protecting role in using its massive gravity to capture or expel from the solar system many comets and asteroids that would

otherwise threaten Earth and the inner planets.[24] Jupiter takes 11.9 years to orbit the Sun, spending almost an earth year (361 days) in each sign of the zodiac. Furthermore Jupiter is usually the fourth brightest object in the sky (after the Sun, the Moon and Venus). Astrologically, Jupiter is associated with the principles of growth, expansion, prosperity, and good fortune. Jupiter governs long distance and foreign travel, higher education, religion, and the law. It is also associated with the urge for freedom and exploration, humanitarian and protecting roles, and with gambling and merrymaking.

The planetJupiter

The 1st-century poet Manilius described Jupiter as temperate and benign, and the greater benefic. It was regarded as warm and moist in nature, and therefore favorable to life. In medicine, Jupiter is associated with the liver, pituitary gland, and the disposition of fats; it governed the sanguine humor. In modern times, Jupiter is said to be the ruler of the ninth and twelfth houses, but traditionally, Jupiter was assigned to the second and ninth houses: the house of values and the house of beliefs, respectively. Jupiter is associated with Thursday, and in Romance languages, the name for Thursday often comes from Jupiter (e.g., joi in Romanian, jeudi in French, jueves in Spanish, and gioved in Italian). Dante Alighieri associated Jupiter with the liberal art of geometry. In Chinese astrology, Jupiter is ruled by the element wood, which is patient, hard-working, and reliable. In Indian astrology, Jupiter is known as Guru or Brihaspati and is known as the 'great teacher'.[citation needed]

Saturn[edit]

Saturn, with Capricorn at his feet and the New Year in his arms, from The Seven Planets with the Signs of the Zodiac (1539) by Hans Sebald Beham

Saturn (

) is the ruling planet of Capricorn and is exalted in Libra. In Roman mythology, Saturn is the god of

agriculture, founder of civilizations and of social order, and conformity. The glyph is most often seen as scythelike[by whom?], but it is primarily known as the "crescent below the cross", whereas Jupiter's glyph is the "crescent above the cross". The famous rings of the planet Saturn that enclose and surround it, reflect this principle of man's limitations. Saturn takes 29.5 years to orbit the Sun, spending about 2.46 years in each sign of the zodiac. Astrologically, Saturn is associated with the principles of limitation, restrictions, boundaries, practicality and reality, crystallizing, and structures. Saturn governs ambition, career, authority and hierarchy, and conforming social structures. It concerns a person's sense of duty, discipline and responsibility, and their physical and emotional endurance during hardships. Saturn is also considered to represent the part of a person concerned with long-term planning. The Return of Saturnis said to mark significant events in each person's life. According to the 1st-century poet Manilius, Saturn is sad, morose, and cold, and is the greater malefic. According to Claudius Ptolemy, "Saturn is lord of the right ear, the spleen, the bladder, the phlegm, and the bones."[25] Saturn symbolized processes and things that were dry and cold, and therefore inimical to life. It governed the melancholic humor. According to Sefer Yetzirah GRA Version Kaplan 4:13[26] "He made the letter Resh king over Peace And He bound a crown to it And He combined one with another And with them He formed Saturn in the Universe Friday in the Year The left nostril in the Soul, male and female."

The planet Saturn

Before the discovery of Uranus, Saturn was regarded as the ruling planet of Aquarius. Many astrologers[who?] still use Saturn as the planetary ruler of both Capricorn and Aquarius; in modern astrology it is accordingly the ruler of the tenth and eleventh houses. Traditionally, however, Saturn was associated with the first and eighth houses. Saturn is associated with Saturday, which was named after the deity Saturn. Dante Alighieri associated Saturn with the liberal art ofastronomia (astrology and astronomy). In Chinese astrology, Saturn is ruled by the element earth, which is warm, generous, and co-operative. In Indian astrology, Saturn is called Shani or "Sani", and represents career and longevity. It is also the bringer of bad luck and hardship. [citation needed]

Modern planets[edit]
Since the invention of the telescope, Western astrology has incorporated Uranus, Neptune, Ceres, Pluto, and other bodies into its methodology. The Indian and Chinese astrologies have tended to retain the ancient sevenplanet system. Meanings have had to be assigned to them by modern astrologers, usually according to the major events that occurred in the world at the time of their discovery. As these astrologers are usually Western, the social and historical events they describe have an inevitable Western emphasis. Astrologers consider the "extra-Saturnian" planets to be "impersonal" or generational planets, meaning their effects are felt more across whole generations of society. Their effects in individuals depend upon how strongly they feature in that individual's birth-chart. The following are their characteristics as accepted by most astrologers. [27]

Uranus[edit]

Syncretic figure of Aion-Uranus standing within a zodiac wheel, with a reclining Earth goddess and four children representing theSeasons (Roman-era mosaic from Sentinum, AD 200-250)

For some modern Western astrologers, the planet Uranus (

) is the ruling planet of Aquarius and is exalted

in Scorpio. In Greek mythology, Uranus is the personification of the heavens and the night sky. The planet Uranus is very unusual among the planets in that it rotates on its side, so that it presents each of its poles to the Sun in turn during its orbit; causing both hemispheres to alternate between being bathed in light and lying in total darkness over the course of the orbit. Uranus takes 84 years to orbit the Sun, spending about 7 years in each sign of the zodiac. Uranus was discovered only in 1781 by Sir William Herschel. Astrologically modern interpretations associate Uranus with the principles of genius, individuality, new and unconventional ideas, discoveries, electricity, inventions, and the beginnings of the industrial revolution. Uranus, among all planets, most governs genius.

The planetUranus

Uranus governs societies, clubs, and any group dedicated to humanitarian or progressive ideals. Uranus, the planet of sudden and unexpected changes, rules freedom and originality. In society, it rules radical ideas and people, as well as revolutionary events that upset established structures. In art and literature, the discovery of Uranus coincided with the Romantic movement, which emphasized individuality and freedom of expression. In medicine, Uranus is believed to be particularly associated with the sympathetic nervous system, mental disorders, breakdowns and hysteria, spasms, and cramps. Uranus is considered by modern astrologers to be ruler of the eleventh house.[citation needed]

Neptune[edit]
For many astrologers, Neptune ( ) is the ruling planet of Pisces. In Roman mythology, Neptune is the god of the sea, and the deep, ocean blue color of the planet Neptune reflects this.[original research?] Its glyph is taken directly from Neptune's trident, symbolizing the curve of spirit being pierced by the cross of matter. Neptune takes 165 years to orbit the Sun, spending approximately 14 years (13.75) in each sign of the zodiac. Neptune was discovered in 1846.[citation needed]

The planetNeptune

Astrologically, modern Western astrologers associate the planet Neptune with creativity, idealism and compassion, but also with illusion, confusion, and deception. Neptune governs hospitals, prisons, mental institutions, and any other place, such as a monastery, that involves a retreat from society. Its appearance coincided with the discovery ofanesthetics and hypnotism. In political terms, Neptune was linked to the rise of nationalist movements throughout Europe in countries like Germany, Italy, Hungary, Ireland, and Serbia, seeking independence for their nations inspired by an idealized past of legend. It was also linked to the rise of socialism and the beginnings of the welfare state. Neptune coincided with the utopian ideals of Communism, when Marx and Engels first published 'The Communist Manifesto' in 1848. [citation needed]

Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto,ceiling mural (ca. 1597) created by Caravaggio for a room adjacent to the alchemical distilleryof Cardinal Francesco Maria Del Monte: hovering around a translucent globe that represents the world are Jupiter with his eagle, Neptune holding a bident, and Pluto with a horse andCerberus[28]

In art, the impressionist movement began a trend away from literal representation, to one based on the subtle, changing moods of light and color. In medicine, Neptune is seen to be particularly associated with the thalamus, the spinal canal, and severe or mysterious illnesses and neuroses. Neptune is considered by modern astrologers to be ruler of the twelfth house. Nowadays, modern astrologers consider Neptune the ruler of Pisces. Some astrologers do not believe that Neptune rules any particular sign, although they may use the planet in interpretation.

Pluto[edit]
To most modern Western astrologers, Pluto ( ) is the ruling planet of Scorpio. In Roman mythology, Pluto is

the god of the underworld and of wealth. The alchemy symbol was given to Pluto on its discovery, three centuries after Alchemy practices had all but disappeared. The alchemy symbol can therefore be read as spirit over mind, transcending matter. The symbols were chosen given the close association with Mars which has a similar symbol. Pluto takes 247 years to make a full circuit of the zodiac, but its progress is highly variable: it spends between 15 and 26 years in each sign. Astrologically, Pluto is called "the great renewer", and is considered to represent the part of a person that destroys in order to renew, through bringing buried, but intense needs and drives to the surface, and expressing them, even at the expense of the existing order. A commonly used keyword for Pluto is "transformation".[citation needed] It is associated with power and personal mastery, and the need to cooperate and share with another, if each is not to be destroyed. Pluto governs big business and wealth, mining, surgery and detective work, and any enterprise that involves digging under the surface to bring the truth to light. Pluto is also associated with the day Tuesday. Pluto is also associated with extreme power and corruption; the discovery of Pluto in 1930 coincided with the rise of fascism and Stalinism in Europe, leading to World War II. It also coincided with the Great Depression and the major proliferation of organized crime in the United States.[citation needed]

The dwarf planet Pluto

Its entry in Cancer in 1913, the sign in which it was later discovered, coincided with World War I. It is also associated with nuclear armament, which had its genesis in the research of the 1930s and 40s. Later on, it gave rise to the polarized nuclear stand off of the Cold War, with the mass consumer societies of the United States and other democracies facing the totalitarian state of the USSR. The discovery of Pluto also occurred just after the birth of modern psychoanalysis, when Freud and Jung began to explore the depths of the unconscious. In real life events and culture, Pluto has been a major astrological aspect. In art, movements like Cubism and Surrealism began to de-construct the "normal" view of the world. In medicine, Pluto is seen to be associated with regenerative forces in the body involving cell formation and the reproductive system.[citation
needed]

Pluto is considered by modern astrologers to be co-ruler of the eighth house. Many traditional astrologers

do not use Pluto as a ruling planet, but do use the planet for interpretation and predictive work, obliquely making reference to projections of influences from higher to lower dimensional spaces.[citation needed]

Ceres[edit]

Ceres with torch in search of Proserpina (medaillon by Martial Reymond, early 17th century)

Ceres (

) is the smallest identified dwarf planet in the Solar System. It was discovered on 1 January 1801 by

Giuseppe Piazzi, and is named after Ceres, the Roman goddess of growing plants, the harvest, and of motherly love. It was the first asteroid discovered, taking up about one-third of the entire mass of its asteroid belt.[29] The classification of Ceres has changed more than once and has been the subject of some disagreement.[citation needed] Johann Elert Bodebelieved Ceres to be the "missing planet" he had proposed to exist between Mars and Jupiter, at a distance of 419 million km (2.8 AU) from the Sun. Ceres was assigned a planetary symbol, and remained listed as a planet in astronomy books and tables for about half a century. The 2006 debate surrounding Pluto and what constitutes a planet led to Ceres being considered for reclassification

as a planet, but in the end Ceres and Pluto were classified as the first members of the new dwarf planet category. Ceres passes through the zodiac every 4 years and 7 months, passing through a little more than 2 signs every year. In mythology, Ceres is the Roman equivalent of the Greek goddess Demeter, and is the goddess of agriculture. The goddess (and metaphorically the planet) is also associated with the reproductive issues of an adult woman, as well as pregnancy and other major transitions in a woman's life, including the nine months of gestation time, family bonds and relationships. For some astrologers Ceres is the ruling planet of Virgo[citation
needed]

. Although a mother, Ceres is also the archetype of a virgin goddess. Ceres epitomizes independent

women who are often unmarried (since, according to myth, Ceres is an unmarried goddess who chose to become a mother without a husband or partner.) While the moon represents our ideal of "motherhood", Ceres would represent how our real and nature motherhood should be.[30]

The dwarf planet Ceres

Ceres, as the Goddess who has control over nature's resources and cycles, may astrologically be considered the planet of the Environment. Returning to mythology, an early environmental villain is the figure of Erysichthon, the tearer up of the earth, who cut down trees in a grove sacred to Ceres-Demeter, for which he was punished by the goddess with fearful hunger. In this sense Ceres became an emerging archetype in the awareness of recent climate change, and is entering our collective consciousness as a need to take care of our natural and irreplaceable resources in the 21st century. Ceres represents a leap towards a future of ecological responsibility and knowledge. As an indicator for environmental or community activism, Ceres would represent for some astrologers the wave of the future.[31] The status of Ceres is unknown at the moment in astrology. The possibility exists that Ceres is not involved with any sign, but it has been strongly suggested as the ruler of Virgo. As in all cases of newer discoveries, Ceres will likely never be used in horoscopes by traditionalist astrologers.

Planetary traditions compared[edit]

Main article: List of astrological traditions

The three most popular Eurasian traditions, Western astrology, Chinese astrology, and Hindu Astrology, accordingly share a large amount of common themes in their zodiacs and concepts of planetary meanings.[citation needed] This could fallaciously inflect that the three have an ancient common origin, whereas in fact the three developed mutually over millennia by diffusion, assimilation, scholarship, and trade across the whole of Eurasia and Africa. The Western and Hindu zodiacs essentially correspond to twelve similar archetypes, despite differences in tone, emphasis, motifs, and right ascension of their constellations, as do the twelve signs of the Chinese zodiac; however, both Western and Hindu astrology are based on four elements: fire, earth, air, water; whereas the Chinese is based on five: metal, water, wood, fire, and earth. Chinese elemental conceptions of the planets clearly correlate to their Western and Hindu counterparts in the case of Mars (Fire), Saturn (Earth), and Jupiter (Wood).[citation needed] The Chinese linkage of Mercury with Water is alien to Western astrology, but this combination shares the water themes, much of what is coined "mercurial" in Western thought, such as intellect, reason and communication.[citation needed] The Chinese association of Venus to Metal appears at first fundamentally different from Western notions of love and romance. In Babylonian mythology, her equivalent was Ishtar, goddess of both love and war. The Chinese metal representative is unyielding and forceful, set in their ways and taciturn; yet Venus' Western element is air, which is logical and sanguine. Metal is also sophisticated, and enjoys the good things in life. In Western astrology, Venus rules both Libra, which is sophisticated, logical, and romantic, and Taurus, which is reserved, sensual, and unyielding. In addition, some sources claim that Venus has an association with gold (metal) where counterpart of Venus is Freyja who is related to the element gold in Norse mythology. Some Western astrologers believe that metal is better associated with the qualities of the planet Saturn, arguing that metal equates to air in the western system, and that Saturn is linked to air in Vedic astrology.[32][33] The cycle of the five Chinese elements operate completely differently from the Western cycle of four. This discrepancy between elements can be clarified by their geomancy, which is locked with Chinese astrology. On the Feng Shui compass, the five elements and the five visible planets are placed on the cardinal directions and center point, with Mercury-Water to the north, Jupiter-Wood to the east, Mars-Fire to the south, Venus-Metal to the west, and Saturn-Earth in the center.[clarification needed] This also suggests that Western air best corresponds to metal, while Venus rules the west in both traditions. Wood in Chinese philosophy describes characteristics found in the Western element of fire.[citation needed]

Other solar system bodies[edit]

See also: Asteroids in astrology and Centaurs in astrology Some asteroids such as Pallas ( ) and Vesta ( ), as well as dwarf planet Ceres, can easily be seen with

binoculars (Vesta even with the naked eye), but these were not recognized as planetary, and perhaps not even

noticed, until the early 19th century.[citation needed] In the early 19th century, Ceres, Juno (

), and the other two

aforementioned asteroids were for a time regarded as planets. Although asteroids have been known to both astronomers and astrologers for more than 200 years, they are often ignored by astrologers. The tradition of some astrologers casting charts with minor planets originates with these asteroids. Since the discovery of Chiron ( ) in the 1970s, some astrologers have been casting the new "planet", although astronomers

consider it a centaur (a kind of intermediate object between comet and asteroid).[34] In the 21st century, several new planet-sized bodies, including Sedna, Quaoar, Haumea, and Eris, have been discovered, but not yet incorporated into mainstream astrological predictions, although some more avant-garde groups have attempted to incorporate them.[35][36] Comets and novae have been observed and discussed for several thousand years.[citation needed] Comets in particular were portents of great interest to ancient people and given various astrological interpretations. Both phenomena are rarely visible to the naked-eye, and are ignored by most modern astrologers.[citation needed] The near-earth asteroid Cruithne is thought to influence the zodiac and some personal horoscopes.[citation
needed]

Not to be confused with Chiron, Pluto's only moon Charon is treated like a "minor planet" or given the

same status as a dwarf planet, the title given to Pluto when in 2006 the International Astronomical Union demoted its status from the farthest planet.[citation needed]

Hypothetical planets[edit]
Some astrologers have hypothesized about the existence of unseen or undiscovered planets. In 1918, astrologer Sepharial proposed the existence of Earth's "Dark Moon" Lilith, and since then, some astrologers have been using it in their charts; though the same name is also (and now, more commonly) used in astrology to refer to the axis of the actual Moon's orbit. The 20th-century German school of astrology known as Uranian astrology also claimed that many undiscovered planets existed beyond the orbit of Neptune, giving them names such as Cupido, Hades, Zeus, Kronos, Apollon, Admetos, Vulcanus, and Poseidon, and charting their supposed orbits. These orbits have not coincided, however, with more recent discoveries by astronomers of objects beyond Neptune. Other astrologers have focused on the theory that in time, all twelve signs of the zodiac will each have their own ruler, so that another two planets have yet to be discovered; namely the "true" rulers of Taurus and Virgo. The names of the planets mentioned in this regard by some are Vulcan (ruler of Virgo) and Apollo, the Roman god of the Sun (ruler of Taurus).[37] Another version of this theory states that the modern planets discovered so far correspond to the elements known to the ancientsair (Uranus, god of the heavens), water (Neptune, god of the sea), and fire (Pluto, god of the underworld)which leaves the elements earth and ether (the fifth element of the fiery upper air). In other words, it is claimed that the two planets to be discovered will be named

after anearth god or goddess (such as the Horae), and after Aether, the Roman and Greek god of the upper air and stars.[citation needed]

The Thema Mundi

Ruling planets of the astrological signs and houses[edit]

Main article: Domicile (astrology) In Western astrology, the symbolism associated with the planets also relates to the zodiac signs and houses of the horoscope in their variousrulerships. For instance, the description of Mars is masculine, impulsive, and active. Aries is ruled by Mars and has a similar description, representing an active, masculine archetype. Similarly, the first house is also ruled by Mars, and deals with a person's physical health and strength, and the manner in which they project themselves. Table 1: Modern signs, houses and planetary associations

Sign

House

Domicile Detriment Exaltation

Fall

Planetary Joy

Aries

1st House

Mars

Venus

Sun

Saturn

Jupiter

Taurus

2nd House Terra

Pluto

Moon

N/A

Jupiter

Gemini

3rd House Mercury

Jupiter

N/A

N/A

Venus

Cancer

4th House Moon

Saturn

Jupiter

Mars

Mercury

Leo

5th House

Sun

Uranus

Neptune

N/A

Mars

Virgo

6th House Ceres

Neptune

Mercury

Venus

Saturn

Libra

7th House

Venus

Mars

Saturn

Sun

Moon

Scorpio

8th House Pluto

Terra

Sun, Uranus Moon

Saturn

Sagittarius 9th House Jupiter

Mercury

N/A

N/A

Sun

Capricorn 10th House Saturn

Moon

Mars

Jupiter

Mars

Aquarius

11th House Uranus

Sun

N/A

N/A

Mercury

Pisces

12th House Neptune

Ceres

Venus

Mercury Moon

Note: The planets in the table rule the signs on the same row, and the houses do correspond with the signs on the same row (i.e. Mars rules Aries; Aries and first house share some correspondences). However, it is only modern astrology that links the planets to the houses in this order.[citation needed] The bulk of the tradition assigns planetary rulerships according to the ancient Chaldean astronomical order of the planets[citation needed] (Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Sun, Venus, Mercury, Moon; the former order of the planets in distance from Earth geocentrically): Table 2: Traditional houses and planetary relationships.

House

Traditional Ruling planet Planetary Joy

1st House

Saturn

Mercury

2nd House Jupiter

N/A

3rd House Mars

Moon

4th House Sun

N/A

5th House

Venus

Venus

6th House Mercury

Mars

7th House

Moon

N/A

8th House Saturn

N/A

9th House Jupiter

Sun

10th House Mars

N/A

11th House Sun

Jupiter

12th House Venus

Saturn

See also[edit]

Asteroids in astrology Centaurs in astrology Stars in astrology Classical planets

Notes[edit]
1. ^ Hone (1978), p.22

2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8.

^ Hone (1978) p. 19 ^ Arroyo (1989) pp. 7, 27 ^ Hone (1978), p.19 8th paragraph ^ http://spokensanskrit.de/index.php?tinput=budha&direction=SE&script=HK&link=yes ^ http://www.behindthename.com/name/venus ^ http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=Demeter ^ Doric d, Proto-Greek *d, "earth" + mtr, "mother". Thed element is not so simply equated with "earth" according to John Chadwick (Chadwick, The Mycenaean World[Cambridge University Press] 1976, p 87): "Every Greek was aware of the maternal functions of Demeter; if her name bore the slightest resemblance to the Greek word for 'mother', it would inevitably have been deformed to emphasize that resemblance. [...] How did it escape transformation into *Gmtr, a name transparent to any Greek speaker?" Compare the Latin transformation Iuppiterand Diespiter vis-a-vis *Deus pter.

9.

^ http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/

10. ^ Monier-Williams, also "he is the chief offerer of prayers and sacrifices, and therefore represented as the type of the priestly order, and the Purohita of the gods with whom he intercedes for men" 11. ^ http://spokensanskrit.de/index.php?tinput=vaasuki&direction=SE&script=HK&link=yes 12. ^ http://spokensanskrit.de/index.php?script=HK&tinput=Varuna&country_ID=&trans=Translate&direction=A U 13. ^
a b

All speeds taken from StarFisher

14. ^ With the exceptions of the Sun and the Moon, all planets are capable of turning into retrograde motion and temporarily appearing to not move at all, this is not what lowest speed refers to in this case. "Lowest speed" in the section refers to the fastest speed a planet may move at when retrograde, reversing its progress. 15. ^ B. A. Fuchs, Die Ikonographie der sieben Planeten in der Kunst Italiens bis zum Ausgang des Mittelalters , Diss. Munich 1909; E. Panofsky, F. Saxl, Saturn und Melancholie, Frankfurt 1990. 16. ^ A. Hauber, Planetenkinderbilder und Sternbilder, Straburg 1916; E. Baer, Representations of "planetchildren" in Turkish manuscripts, in: Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 31, 1968 17. ^ Michael Meyer at khaldea.com, Rob Hand "Horoscope Symbols" 18. ^ Jeff Mayo, Teach Yourself Astrology, pp17 28, Hodder and Stoughton, London, 1964; Sasha Fenton Understanding Astrology, pp106 112, The Aquarian Press (Harper Collins), London, 1991; Derek and Julia Parker, The New Compleat Astrologer, pp86 99, Crescent Books, New York, 1971; Maritha Pottinger Astro Essentials, pp11 -14, 1718, ACS Publications, San Diego, 1991 19. ^ Back de Surany, Gza. Manual de Astrologa Mdica. ndigo.1988. 214 pginas, pag. 32 20. ^ Back de Sarany, Gza Ibid., 37.

21. ^ New Yorker, 20 May 2013. 22. ^ Henbest, ibid 23. ^ Ingersoll, A. P.; Dowling, T. E.; Gierasch, P. J.; Orton, G. S.; Read, P. L.; Sanchez-Lavega, A.; Showman, A. P.; Simon-Miller, A. A.; Vasavada, A. R. "Dynamics of Jupiters Atmosphere" (PDF). Lunar & Planetary Institute. Retrieved 2007-02-01. 24. ^ George W. Wetherill (1994). "Possible consequences of absence of "Jupiters" in planetary systems". Astrophysics and Space Science 212: 23 32.Bibcode:1994Ap&SS.212...23W.doi:10.1007/BF00984505. PMID 11539457. 25. ^ .html Tetrabiblos by Claudius Ptolemy published in the Loeb Classical Library, 1940 26. ^ "Sefer ha-Yetzirah (The Book of Formation)". Gra Version Translated by Aryeh Kaplan. 27. ^ Jeff Mayo, Ibid, pp 28 33, 1964; Sasha Fenton Ibid, pp 112 115, 1991; Derek and Julia Parker, Ibid, pp 100 105, 1971; Maritha Pottinger Ibid, pp 1519, 1991 28. ^ Creighton Gilbert, Caravaggio and His Two Cardinals(Penn State University Press, 1995), pp. 124125. 29. ^ E. V. Pitjeva, "Precise determination of the motion of planets and some astronomical constants from modern observations", 2004 International Astronomical Union,http://journals.cambridge.org/production/action/cjoGetFulltext?fulltextid=303499 30. ^ Martin, Helena Planets in the astrological universe (los planetas en el universo astrolgico) , p333-334, Ed. Indigo, Barcelona, 1990 31. ^ http://www.astrostar.com/articles/Ceres.htm 32. ^http://www.holisticwebworks.com/traditional_chinese_medicine/yin_and_yang_and_the_five_element_the ory.html 33. ^ http://www.findyourfate.com/indianastro/grahas.htm 34. ^ [1] 35. ^ Karmastrology.com: New Planets 36. ^ AstroTransits.blogspot.com New dwarf planets in Astrology (Sedna, Eris, Haumea, Quaoar, Makemake, 2002 TC302, Orcus, and others 37. ^ Linda Goodman, Sun Signs, p226, Pan Books, London, 1982

References[edit]

Arroyo, Stephen (1989). Chart Interpretation Handbook. California: CCRS Publications. Hone, Margaret (1978). The Modern Text-Book of Astrology. Revised edition. England: L. N. Fowler & Co. Ltd. Houlding, D (2006). The Houses Temples of the Sky The Wessex Astrologer, Bournemouth, England. Ptolemy, C.trans Ashmand, J. (2002). Tetrabiblos Astrology Classics, Maryland, USA.

External links[edit]

New planets won't affect Vedic astrology (Anubha Sawhney). Times of India, 18 August 2006 Redefining the stars, one planet at a time Houston Chronicle: (JEANNIE KEVER) 17 August 2006, 11:36 am

Pluto Dissed: What Now for Astrologers? (Lynn Hayes) National Ledger: 25 August 2006
(English) (Latin) Flowers of Abu Ma'shar, by 8th century Arabic astrology Jafar ibn Muammad al-Balkh,

discusses and depicts the planets and their role in astrology. This translation, in Latin, is by John of Seville.
[hide]

Astrology

History of astrology

History of astrology

Astrology and astronomy

Musica universalis

Astrologers

Tetrabiblos Astrologers by nationality

List of astrologers

Astrology by tradition

Babylonian astrology

Traditions, types, branches and systems

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Christianity and astrology Magi

The effects of SATURN & remedies to nullify them

Saturn, commonly known as Shani is the slowest moving planet in space, but has quite strong effects on kundalis. It gives good as well as bad effects according to your job. Its presence is considered auspicious in 2nd, 7th, 3rd, 10th and 11th House, but inauspicious in 4th, 5th and 8th House. It controls life, death, wealth, home, children, results of legal suit, theft, illness related to intestines, etc. It can do wonders if it is favourable, but can be very evil if inauspicious. In case of benefic Saturn, a person becomes a great scholar with a good command over language. Saturn is capable of turning gold into ashes, but when it is benevolent it gives immense profit. The people whom Saturn favours have high possibilities of engaging into

the trade of machinery, furnace, leather, cement, wood, iron, oil, transport, astrology, rubber, etc. However, if Saturn is malefic, the person has to face struggles in life. He may suffer from diseases related to stomach. There are high chances that he may also lose wealth or fall prey to imprisonment. Some Effects of Saturn in Different Yogas And Combinations:1. As Saturn is the Lord of the 8th House, it shall adversely affect any other House, regardless of where it is placed. 2. Drinking, gambling, telling lies or indulging into frivolities suppress the positive effects of Saturn. 3. If Saturn is placed with Rahu and Ketu, it becomes insignificant. 4. If Saturn comes under the aspect of Sun, it brings harm to Venus. 5. If Saturn is under the effect of Venus, then the native may experience financial loss. But, on the contrary, if Venus is under the aspect of Saturn, it may prove beneficial. 6. If Saturn is debilitated at the time of birth and comes in the debilitated Houses in the annual horoscope, then it causes great loss in 9th, 18th, 27th and 36th year of life. 7. The beneficial effects of Saturn normally begin after the 36th year of birth. 8. Saturn gives evil impact when it is alone, or placed with Moon or it is placed with Rahu in the 12th House of Horoscope. If there is a friendly planet in 2nd House and Mars, Venus is established. In such a situation, a person may overcome a prolonged illness and live a healthy life. 9. Saturn never gives debilitated effects in the Houses of Saturn viz. 2nd,9th,12th, but when it is placed in the 3rd or the 8th House, the person becomes mangalik. It hurts the Moon in the 4th House and causes accident in 8th House. 10. Saturn gives very beneficial effects when placed in the 9th House provided there is a friendly planet in the 2nd House. 11. A person may have to go for an eye surgery when Saturn and Moon clash with each other. 12. When Sun and Venus are in each others aspect, it indicates loss of wealth and the wife may have to suffer.

Remedies for the adverse effects of Saturn in all the Houses as per Red Book / Lal Kitab: 1st House:(a) Abstinence from consuming alcohol and non vegetarian food. (b) Burying surma in the ground will be beneficial for promotion at work. (c) Feeding monkey will lead to prosperity. (d)Offering sweet milk to the roots of a banyan tree will give good results in education and health. 2nd (a) House:days.

Going

barefoot

to

temple

for

forty-three

(b) (c) 3rd (a) (b) (c) 4th (a) (b) (c) 5th (a) (b) 6th (a) (b) (c) 7th (a) (b)

Putting

a tilak Offering

of

curd milk

or

milk

on to

the

forehead snake.

Feeding Donating medicines for eyes Keeping a dark room

House:three dogs. or distributing free medications for eyes. in the house may prove beneficial. House:buffalo. well. water.

Offering

milk to Pouring Pouring

snake

and offering milk rum

milk or in in

rice

crow the running

to

or

Distributing salty things Offering almonds in the temple

while celebrating and keeping half of

sons it in

House:birthday. the house. House:dog. water. children. House:place. cow.

Offering food to a Putting coconut and almonds in Feeding snakes will prove advantageous for the

black flowing welfare of

Bury

flute Feeding

filled

with a

sugar

in

a black

deserted

8th House:(a) Keeping a square piece of silver. (b) Putting milk in bathing water; sitting on a stone or wooden plank while taking bath. 9th House:(a) Putting rice or almonds in flowing water. (b) Donating gold and kesar for work associated with Jupiter, and donating silver and clothes for work associated with Moon; all these for good results. 10th (a) (b) (c) House:temple. eggs. people.

Abstinence Offering

Going from food

to to meat, ten wine and visually-impaired

11th House:(a) Before going for an important work, place a vessel filled with water on the ground and pour few drops of oil or wine for forty-three days. (b) Abstinence from consuming alcohol; try maintaining good moral character.

12th House:(a) Trying twelve almonds in a black cloth and placing it in an iron pot and keeping it in a dark room will give good results. Click here to ask a question to our celebrity astrologer.

Meaning of the 9 grahas or planets

By Krishna Wiuker

The 9 Grahas
According to the Vedas, the planets are the instruments of God, by which the law of karma operates. The Sun, Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Rahu and Ketu are called the 9 Grahas (Sanskrit meaning is to grab or to hold). According to the ancient scripture Brihat Parashara Hora Shastra: Vishnu (God) has incarnated as the Navagrahas (9 planets) to bestow on living beings the results of their Karmas or actions. He assumed the auspicious form of Grahas to destroy the strength of the demons (evil forces), to sustain the strength of the Devas (the divine beings) and to establish Dharma (cosmic order or law). The planets, besides their huge physical mass and gravitational force, are tremendous fields of subtle psychic or spiritual energies, and it is at that level that we have to understand their effects. This understanding is the basis of the science of astrology. Each planet corresponds to a specific vibratory frequency, color, subtle element, geometrical form, and even a personality type with its own likes and dislikes, friendships and enmities. Each individual person is made of a specific and unique combination of the energies of these planets that determines his characteristics, likes and dislikes, personality and behavior. It is interesting to note that Vedic astrology doesnt use the outer planetsUranus, Neptune and Plutoeven though there is some historical evidence that the ancient Rishis knew about them; in the ancient scripture the Mahabharata, three planets are mentioned which correspond with the location and coordinates of the outer planets.

THE SUN (SURYA) The Sun, being the center of our planetary system, represents the central position: the king, the soul, the government, the masculine principle and our vital energy (together with the Moon). Without the Sun, life on earth wouldnt be possible, therefore it represents the life force and energy. Even though the Sun represents our true nature (the soul or Atman), due to human beings spiritual ignorance, it manifests more as the individual self or ego. The Sun represents what the individual identifies with. According to the sign and house in which it is located in the birth chart, we can understand which areas will be important for the person, or areas the individual has to experience to find out his true nature and Self. Because of its fiery nature, the Sun is considered a malefic planet in Jyotish; it hurts or damages the areas it affects. By identifying with a particular area of life which is not the true self or soul, it brings a fall of consciousness, leading to the experience of suffering, which will eventually lead us to develop humility and recognition of our true nature. The Sun represents the authority figure, the king, the government or the boss. A strong Sun in the birth chart will indicate a person with some authoritarian and leader personality, who will tend to be in an important position in society or have some relationship with the government. It also represents the father or paternal figure. A

strong Sun usually indicates a rich or powerful father or a good relation with him. A strong Sun in the chart indicates a mature soul with a developed consciousness, strong personality, and good self-esteem. A too-strong or predominant sun can indicate an overly authoritative person, or someone who is too self-centered, always wanting to be the center of attention, someone who has difficulties working with or under other people, and, in general, a lack of humility. A weak or afflicted Sun will usually indicate a difficult relationship with the father or that the father has some problem, or a low self-esteem, low vitality or health problems. The Sun rules the heart, blood circulation, the sight, right eye, head and headaches, hair growth or baldness, the abdomen and digestive fire, dryness and fever. The ayurvedic constitution is Pitta or fiery. THE MOON - (CHANDRA or SOMA) The Moon is considered the most important heavenly body in Vedic astrology, due to its influence on the mind and emotions. These are the instruments by which we perceive the world, and act and relate with it, being the cause of the play of karma. The Moon reflects the energy of the Sun and balances its fire with her fresh, cooling, nourishing and vitalizing light and nectar. It represents the mind, emotions, prana, water and liquids. Moon also represents the mother. Its position indicates the type of relation with her and her well-being, factors that have a deep effect on a persons psychology and life. It also represents the nourishment, food and material needs for survival, all of which are provided by the mother. Therefore, a strong Moon is a great strength in the chart and helps to overcome difficulties in life. The waxing and waning cycles of the Moon are well-known for their effect on all life on earth: plants, ocean tides, climate, the female cycle, fertility and emotional moods. The Moon cycles directly affect the psychological and physiological state of humans and all living beings. Statistical studies have shown that mentally disturbed people feel more affected or aggravated during the full Moon. Being born during the waxing Moon usually leads to a more extroverted mind and personality, while the waning Moon leads to a more introverted mind. The position of the Moon in the birth chart indicates the way the person thinks and feels, his important subjects in life and his relationship with the external world. A strong Moon in the chart reflects mental and psychological stability, good concentration and capacity of well-being and emotional satisfaction. An afflicted Moon usually reflects emotional difficulties, mental or psychological disturbances or health problems. The effects of a weak Moon can be overcome by meditation and spiritual practices, living in calm places, in contact with nature, and by white or light colors. The exact degree of the Moon at birth determines the successive planetary periods

known as Maha Dashas, and it is an important factor to predict the energies and issues that will predominate over the course of time. Moon represents female fertility, blood and body fluids, the lungs, breasts, milk and the chest area. The ayurvedic constitution is Kapha or phlegmatic, and partially Vata or airy. MARS (KARTIK, MANGAL or KUJA) Mars represents energy, courage, initiative and action. It also represents war and aggression. Depending on its position it can be a positive spiritual energy to overcome obstacles and grow spiritually, or it can become a destructive force, causing harm, injuries, accidents and uncontrolled passions. Mars is action-oriented, related to initiative, youth and the conquering of enemies. It can lead to a very dynamic, active and enthusiastic personality, or alternatively, to one who wants to dominate others by force. Mars also represents brothers, technology, technical or mechanical skills, mathematics, computing, athletics and sports, medicine and surgery, blood pressure, police and military people, dictators, fire and explosions. A strong and well-placed Mars in the birth chart indicates a spiritual warriora lack of fear to face the difficulties and enemies of life, internally and externally; control over ones own body and aggression. An afflicted Mars can indicate a fearful, aggressive or violent person. A weak Mars can lead to an uncontrolled dissipation or loss of the vital energy in many directions. It can create muscular weakness. Physical exercise is a good way to strengthen Mars energy. Physically it represents the marrow, muscles, physical strength, the head, testicles and virility, and has a Pitta or fiery ayurvedic constitution. MERCURY (BUDDHA) Mercury represents the intellect or Buddhi, the capacity for discrimination, communication, language, learning, youth, childhood, plays, sports and friends. Mercury has a constant desire for learning, but it also creates a duality in the mind, always comparing between the pairs of opposites. The Moon represents the subconscious or emotional mind, but Mercury represents the pure analytical and rational mind. A strong and well-placed Mercury indicates good intelligence and capacity for learning, oral or written communication skills and good speech. Mercury, when too strong or predominant, can lead to repressing the emotions with reason, and can make for a very critical nature. A weakly-placed Mercury can lead a person to rely more on emotions and instinct rather than on reason, and it can bring some difficulties in learning, speech, the skin, nervous system, and diminish the capacity to retain knowledge.

Mercury can behave as a benefic or malefic planet depending on its association with other planets. A person can have a good intelligence, but use it on a selfish and destructive way, if afflicted by malefic planets. Physically it represents the skin and breathing passages, and it has a Vata or airy ayurvedic constitution. JUPITER (GURU or BRIHASPATI) Jupiter represents the teacher, the Guru, the one who leads us from the darkness of ignorance to the light of knowledge. He stands for wisdom, knowledge, learning, goodness, good luck, good karma and expansion. In the Vedas, Brihaspati is called the Guru of the Devas, the celestial or angelical beings. He is represented as a priestfull of wisdom, righteousness, justice, goodness; desirous to bless and give prosperity to everyone. Jupiter also represents children, mainly the eldest son, and in case of woman, it represents the husband. It is considered the most benefic planet because of its nature of giving and expanding, without expectations. Jupiter usually blesses the areas related with its placement, but for some ascendants like Taurus, Libra or Capricorn, it can be adverse or bring inauspicious effects, because it is the ruler of difficult houses. The position of Jupiter in a birth chart will indicate the ways of spiritual learning, type of faith or religion, teachers and material prosperity. A strong and well-placed Jupiter in a chart is an indicator of optimism, faith, interest in religion of philosophy, sense of righteousness and justice, positive contacts with teachers, wise or religious people, and good prosperity, caused by some good past karmas and spiritual tendencies. It is very common in the charts of religious people, priests, teachers, philosophers, judges, lawyers, or prosperous people. But in some cases, an excessively strong Jupiter can lead a person to not make any effort to improve his life situationan excessive optimism that can lead to spiritual stagnation. An afflicted Jupiter can indicate difficulty in getting a spiritual teacher, or sometimes even getting a wrong, dishonest or fake teacher, or a difficult relationship with teachers in general. It can bring lack of faith and optimism in life, or a more materialistic view of life, or material difficulties that dont allow the mind to expand into a more spiritual awareness. An afflicted or weak Jupiter can indicate marital difficulties or husbands bad health, or difficulties to have children. Physically it is related to the fat tissues, accumulation of fluids, obesity, liver, pancreas and the sugar and fat metabolism, the hips and the feet. Its nature is Kapha or phlegmatic.

VENUS (SHUKRA) Venus is also a spiritual teacher, but he is the teacher of the Asuras or demons beings who were spiritually evolved at some past time, but fell from grace due to strong materialistic or selfish tendencies. Venus helps them find their path of return. Venus represents the feminine, the beautiful, refined; attraction, the desires and human passions; the sexual and marital relationships. Venus is also associated with wealth, clothes, jewelry, music, dance, the fine arts, creativity, semen, love, attraction and sexuality. For a man, Venus is a significator for woman or the spouse, whose characteristics and relationship can be assessed from the position of Venus in the birth chart. A strong and well-located Venus tends to bestow artistic talents and creativity, physical beauty, good sense of esthetics and harmony, prosperity, wealth and divine grace. A well-located Venus has a spiritual potential of transforming the energy of love and sensuality into devotion, cosmic love and a feeling of the divine grace. If there are no other spiritual indications in the chart, a too-strong or dominating Venus can lead to an excessive attachment to sensual pleasure, and the material objects of the world and its physical pleasures An afflicted or debilitated Venus usually brings a difficulty to obtain pleasure or enjoyment in life, which can lead a person to look for exaggerated means of sensual gratification to compensate. It can also indicate weakness or diseases of the reproductive organs, or sexual disorders. In some cases, if there are other spiritual indications, a debilitated Venus can lead a parson to a sincere spiritual path, developing a strong devotion, looking for Gods love alone. Physically it represents the reproductive organs, urinary tract and semen. Its ayurvedic constitution is Kapha and Vata. SATURN (SHANI) Saturn represents austerity, discipline, restrictions and sufferings. He is also a spiritual teacher, but one who teaches through restriction, hard work, purification, service and humility, leading the person to face his weaknesses and more negative tendencies, to recognize and change them. Saturn makes us face and work out the negative karma we created in the past in the form of restrictions and sufferings, which will lead us eventually to recognize our negative patterns and develop responsibility and self-discipline to change them. Saturn represents longevity, old age, concentration and meditation. The position of Saturn in the chart indicates the areas of struggle and difficulties in life, though in Vedic astrology it is considered a very important planetary energy for spiritual advancement and evolution. A strong and well-located Saturn in a chart will indicate a good capacity to endure the hardships of life, the capacity for hard work, a strong sense of responsibility, seriousness, self-discipline, austerity or tapas.

An afflicted Saturn can show a difficulty in facing responsibilities, or trying to evade them, which leads to more suffering. It can cause mental depression, loneliness, feelings of isolation, addictions and chronic diseases. The more one tries to escape from Saturns restrictions, the more intense those sufferings become, leading eventually to extremely difficult situations. Saturns restrictions lead to disappointment and detachment from the worldly happiness, which eventually leads to the search for true happiness within the spirit. The best way to relate with Saturns energy is to understand and accept his restrictions consciously through self-discipline and self-purification. Saturn moves slowly, an indication that his lessons will have to be learned over a long period of perseverance and hard work. But after that, Saturn can give immense blessings and spiritual strength. He usually tends to postpone or delay things and the areas of life that it affects in the chart. A strong and dominant Saturn can be found in the birth charts of hard-workers, servants, politicians, yogis and ascetic people. Its energy can be positively channeled through fasting, selfless service, seclusion and meditation. Physically it is associated with the nerves and it has a Vata or airy ayurvedic constitution. RAHU and KETU (the nodes of the Moon) Rahu and Ketu are not physical planets; they dont have a physical mass, but are very powerful energetic points in the sky. They are the points of intersection between the path of the Sun and the path of the Moon, causing the solar and lunar eclipses. They are very important on the spiritual level, as they are related with the unconscious shades, unresolved karmas and conflicts coming from previous lives. They are mythologicaly represented by a snake that was cut in two: the head (Rahu) and the tail (Ketu). This inner conflict manifests as two antagonistic, opposite forces in the subconscious mind that generate conflicts, dualities, fears, compulsive desires, rejections or phobias, and karmic situations which lead us to face them and work them out. When we can understand and connect those two antagonistic forces, the Kundalinithe inner spiritual power and strengthawakens, leading to inner healing, peace of mind and spiritual illumination. Therefore, Rahu and Ketu can be the cause of great conflicts, dissatisfactions and diseases, but by understanding and working them out spiritually, we can connect them and transform them into a great spiritual power. RAHU (the north node) Rahu is related with the unconscious desires, dissatisfactions, fears, obsessions, ambitions and unresolved issues from previous lives that need to be experienced in

this life. The houses and signs where Rahu is located indicate areas where there will be mental restlessness, hypersensitivity, strong desires to experience that area, but fears to do so and dissatisfaction with it at the same time. It tends to create very strong but unconscious desires, without really understanding their causes, which can lead to compulsive behavior, addictions, fantasies, unrealistic imaginations or suggestions. Rahu represents the unconventional, illegal, dark but desired; also foreigners, people out of the social system and its norms, or outcasts. It can also be transformed and sublimated into a spiritual energy, knowledge of the occult side of the mind, or knowledge of psychology. Understanding and control of this energy leads to esoteric knowledge and awakening of the Kundalini power. KETU (the south node) Ketu is represented by a Sadhu, a mendicant ascetic monk, one who rejects the world and its vanity, instead looking for the essential truth alone. Ketu indicates areas where detachment has to be developed, areas that will be the source of some sufferingwith the purpose of being spiritualized, searching for lifes very essence. Ketu is considered a very important planet for spiritual evolution, because it represents the capacity for renunciation, detachment from the ephemeral, and a search for the truth and the essence of life. It also represents Moksha, liberation from the cycle of births and deaths and attainment of illumination. A predominant Ketu can be seen in the charts of monks, ascetics, renunciates, and psychic and clairvoyant people. The placement of Ketu in the birth chart indicates areas that have been experienced in excess in previous lives, now causing feelings of dissatisfaction and rejection towards them. Ketu can cause damage and restrictions in the areas it affects, but it is also a way of spiritual learning. An adverse Ketu can cause ruptures, breaks, accidents or diseases, but alternatively it can bestow intuitive knowledge coming from past life experiences.