Birth of An Aries

I am an Aries Sun, born on the very first day of Aries season in 1994. My life began in the most Aries way I can imagine. During a wild blizzard, my mother sent my two older brothers to stay with a friend so she could bring me into the world in a quiet and peaceful house that I would call home for the first twelve years of my life.

My mother first went into labor in her own home on March 11th, squarely in Pisces season. My parents called the midwives, and everything but it turned out it was a false alarm. Despite contractions occurring just 7 minutes apart, my mom would continue to carry me for another 10 days. During the final day of Pisces season, my mother took things into her own hands and in a classically Aries assertion of will she initiated my birth by taking castor oil. She had already had two children and was confident in her birthing, leading her to choose to give birth quite independently. She had the support of my Dad, a physician, and two midwives, one of whom would later become the nurse at my school. (We’re nothing if not connected, integrated on a deep, karmic level.) Just as quickly as labor began, her contractions stopped.

Then, at midnight, on the 21st of March, her contractions began again, this time as fast and furious as the Cardinal Fire sign of the zodiacal new year. Only 12 minutes past midnight, I was born into my family on the Spring equinox.

As I was put on my mother’s chest, my father reached out to jostle my newborn body, encouraging me to cry and take my first breath, as his training had taught him. One of the midwives caught his hand, assuring him I would take my first breath independently. My Dad loves to tell this story, and it’s always helped me understand myself on a deep level that has been integral to my self-actualization. I took my first breath entirely of my own accord and in an instant, turned from blue to pink. Then, much to my mother’s surprise, I took a nap.

Napping is still an essential tool of well-being for me, it acts as a “turning it off and back on again.” Breathing techniques also provide me much comfort and serenity, as I feel the power of recognizing my own equilibrium through balancing the pressure of my lungs and calming my entire nervous system using my own body, my own life force, my own breath.

A sweet friend of mine, who shares the March 21st birthdate, calls us “blast off babies,” because…three…two…one BLAST OFF! This day is the ignition of a new zodiacal season, a new trip around the sun, a new season of growth, an initiation of action for all life on Earth (at least in the northern hemisphere.)

I have always considered my birthday to be special, given the peaceful nature of my birth, too often a traumatizing experience for everyone involved. The fact that it is on the Equinox and often the first day of Spring also gave me an obnoxious sense of originality. But it was only when I became a practicing astrologer that the power of my 0º Sun, exalted in the sign of Aries, became a signature that has supported my compassionate self-actualization and empowered sense of self.

Libra: The Divine Lessons of balance

How do we describe Libra?

The divine lessons of Libra invite us to collaborate and cooperate. The trick is to avoid conjoining, losing the tension that creates the limitations required for creative success. In any good collaboration, there is true divinity in asserting individuality as much as making room for commonality. Harmony is not made beautiful simply by similarity, but through the divine tension between alignment and variance. The best collaborations allow both voices to be heard, both messages to be sent and received, both creators to be challenged, inspired, and admired in connection to a whole that is greater than the sum of either of its parts.

Libra is a love scholar that teaches us through the spectrum of individuation and cooperation. She is the most magickal when she can embody mutuality and independence in one breath.

Libra teaches us lessons of balance.

Very often we learn through the inverse; we may be taught to be gentle through experiences with roughness, we may be taught generosity through selfishness, and we may learn to value connection through lessons of isolation. Libra lessons often come from moving too far in one direction only to have the pendulum return so quickly it’s momentum carries it again, too far in the other direction.

I often witness and experience the lessons of codependency and interdependence in this same swing of the pendulum or struggle to balance scales, to add a new metaphor. For those who were challenged with parentification, who became care takers far too young, the urge to take care is now likely just as strong and the urge to reject care for ourselves. Then, as awareness and healing repair the wound, both the urgency around caring for other and the readiness to be cared for become easier, more available, and less likely to generate activation and reactivity. As things become even more balanced in the healing process, the willingness to allow others to suffer the consequences of their actions begins to expand, and new cycles in the spiral that is healing and balancing are discovered.

What does Libra look like?

She is a gallery, refined, thoughtful, full of tasteful art and reflections of aesthetic symmetry and creativity of the highest value. She is the mark of civilization, of things made legible, clarified, defined and named beautiful for their purity.

What does Libra feel like?

She is most empowered with clear and healthy boundaries. She is most exalted with structure, discipline, limitations, and a clear ethical code. She is dignified in devotion to diplomacy, cooperation, and collaboration. She if soft to the touch but cool and balanced by her careful restraint. Libra feels like the satisfaction of justice.

What does Libra taste like?

She is mild, likeable, even, and appealing. She is a well-balanced wine, refined with time. She is a perfectly ripe fruit at the balance of the equinox.

What does Libra smell like?

If Libra were a perfume she would be gentle, soothing but heady. She would be a scent that is hard to forget but never challenging. She would be clean, pure, and decisively ripe without ever becoming overpowering or unfairly assertive.

The Mythology Connected to the Libra Constellation

The constellation of Libra is considered to be the Titan Goddess Themis who was sister to Nemesis and second wife to Zeus. She is the goddess of justice, legislation, divine law, and harmony with nature. She carries a sword to cut the truth from the lies, and her scales are the symbol of the justice she upholds. Themis is the Goddess of peacemaking, balance, seeing other’s point of view, along with divine awareness, and social graces. If disregarded, it is her sister, Nemesis, who punishes. Nemesis is the consequence of failure to regard Themis and her Libra qualities.

This narrative again conjures the awareness of collaboration and balance. The Libra Titan herself does not operate alone, but she is still quite individual. She is interdependent, offering her magick in divine cooperation with her sister.

The same could be said of her relationship to Zeus. Through this collaboration she birthed the three Horai and the three Morai. While the Horai governed the measure of time, the orderliness of divine law, the Morai determined the path of fate, the purpose and the process of divine law. Even her offspring cooperate to create a sense of order, of fairness, and of divine balance.