Aries: independence + integration

We begin the zodiacal cycle with the Sun transiting across the constellation of Aries. This marks the zodiacal new year, the beginning of Spring in the northern hemisphere, and the Spring equinox. It is a time of renewal, of life returning to a sleeping environment.

The words of Aries are “I AM.” This archetype speaks to individuality while encapsulating the oneness of the collective. At first glance Aries may appear selfish or self-interested but in it’s most empowered expression, the individuality is wholly integrated into the collective One. The baby of the zodiac is much like human baby who may present like a tiny tyrant but who have not yet developed a distinction between themselves and others. Their demands are not tyrannical, but an assertion of willful desire for collective needs to be met. Like the Warrior who may be seen as bold, brash, and ego driven, empowered Aries offers these qualities to the collective with the wisdom and purpose of selfless devotion to the common good.

The lessons of Aries are of independence and integration, assertion of will, ambition, leadership, and pioneering or initiating action. Aries is called to go first, to bleed first for the cause, to start sh*t. Without a leader, or at least someone willing to go first, we are stagnant and stuck in chaos without a beginning or an end. The bravery, independence, and audacity of this archetype teaches us the value of the individual in service to the collective.

While independence is one side of the spectrum navigated by the archetype of Aries, the other is integration. As shown in the etymology of the word, integration embodies oneness, wholeness, completeness. Empowered independence is not about isolation or detachment from the collective, it is the embodiment of leadership that is conscious of and devoted to the community it leads. Integration is not the loss of individuality to the group, but the awareness of unity and wholeness in the self.

Selfishness is the art of Aries. To articulate need and desire, is what this archetype teaches us. While we cannot guarantee receipt of our needs and desires, we are nearly promised never to receive them without asking. We may risk disappointment or the vulnerability of exposing our will, but this act of vulnerability is the price we pay for a chance to have our needs and desires met.

In American culture, independence is a highly glorified quality. From a therapeutic perspective however, this privileging of independence can present some concerning issues. While it is often Libra, the opposite sign from Aries, that is associated with codependency, the other side of the codependent coin is hyper-independence. This is the deluded belief that an individual can ‘do it all alone.’ The behavior that insists on never sharing it’s needs for fear of exposing the need to receive support or worse, asking and being rejected. Not only does absolutely nothing occur in a vacuum on our planet, but humans are a pack animal, communally oriented and requiring of family, a village, to achieve anything.

While leadership is an honorable quality, it is nothing without a community to lead. The same is true for the archetype of Aries; independence is noble but without a sense of integration, connection to the collective, it is isolated and adrift without purpose.

Scorpio: surrender + control

The archetype of Scorpio exists on a spectrum of surrender and control. By surrendering to what cannot be controlled, by choosing power over force, by demonstrating the ability to control only the self, Scorpio can access an empowered expression of self-actualization. When we refuse to engage in a power struggle that was never ours to control in the first place, we liberate ourselves, achieving freedom from the trap of control issues that leave us disempowered and exhausted.

Scorpio manages the realms of secrets, power, trauma, sexuality, and the hidden depths. One of the most powerful commitments any of us can make is one of trust in the self and the divine, ultimately one in same.

When we swallow poison, the harm caused by another, it becomes an opportunity to heal, to tend to our wound, and process the vulnerability, the pain, the betrayal. When we offer ourselves the grace, the antidote to our wound, we make space for the healing cycle to begin. If instead, we hold on to the trauma, turning it over and over, clutching it close as a key part of our identity, we are promised greater suffering. Scorpio is a mark of the healer and in our astrological charts, it speaks to where we must heal old ancestral wounds and unearth secrets of trauma and betrayal.

Scorpio is a water sign in the fixed mode. This means that while it has all the emotional, intuitive, and liquid qualities of water, the fixed mode gives it the solid, contained, and rigid textures of the fixed mode. This can make the Scorpio uniquely capable of holding emotional truth and operating with intuitive discernment. By the same token, if we consider what it means for water to be contained and rigid, we could describe it as a block of ice or a well.

To explore the well metaphor, what happens when poison lands in a well?

The entire well is poisoned. The walls hold the water, now tainted by pain and wounding and the only solution is to find an antidote to the poison.

By holding onto the pain, the trauma of betrayal, and treachery, we keep the poisoned water of the well inside. But when we finally offer ourselves forgiveness, we become the antidote to our own suffering. Often times when we experience a brutal loss or trauma, it is not an apology or amends from the offending party that is the solution to our pain, but the forgiveness and grace we offer ourselves for not being able to protect ourselves, for not maintaining control when we so wish we could have, that will heal our wound. If we can return to ourselves, commit to trusting ourselves to craft the antidote that we need, we can transform our reality and heal.

As a master of transformation and transmutation, the Scorpio archetype is not only embodied and depicted by the form of the Scorpion but by two other incarnations.

The Scorpion

The scorpion is reactive, aggressive, sharp, and biting. It can express possessiveness, it keeps secrets, and refuses to admit emotional vulnerability. The scorpion is prone to jealousy and holds grudges, never letting go of the past, choosing instead to hold resentment and anger. In this way the scorpion can poison itself by refusing to heal from wounds it alone must tend to.

The Eagle

The eagle has achieved more liberty and perspective, no longer crawling on the earth or drinking its own poison. The eagle takes an elevated approach though still deeply judgemental and razor-sharp in its approach. The awareness and presence of the eagle is powerful and even lethal but it is still deeply self-protective and unwilling to find grace in vulnerability.

The Phoenix

Finally, the phoenix embodies the transformation of compassion for the self and the healing balm it can create. By accessing the antidote to the poison from traumas beyond its control, the phoenix can find alchemical solutions to powerlessness by asserting the power that resides within. Surrendering to what cannot be controlled and choosing to control the only entity within our control, ourselves, offers the phoenix a chance to rise from the ashes, stronger than ever before. All this can be achieved by trusting the self and relinquishing the urge to control what is beyond our power.

The magick of Scorpio is to transcend and transform through the discipline of trust. When we trust ourselves to be present and mindful through the process of healing, when we forgive ourselves for being wounded and vulnerable, we access the blessing of transformational liberation.

Scorpio speaks from desire.

As shown in the etymology of the word desire, there is something greater than wanting in the expression of desire. It is not just lust or covetousness, it is an inspiration of longing from beyond, from a heavenly body, one that is set upon a soul with celestial significance. It is a sacred wanting, the expression of desire and it can lead us to purpose.

To express desire is to be vulnerable in longing. It acknowledges a force external to our own power, one that moves us to action and inspires feeling. For Scorpio to truly embody its power, it must acknowledge its vulnerability and learn to trust in what it can control and honor what it must surrender to. Empowerment is not the absence of vulnerability but the awareness of desire, the willingness to be inspired, and the compassion to offer healing and forgiveness.

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.

The Aquarius Archetype: Understanding The Water Bearer

Why is Aquarius the water bearer but an air sign?

Does understanding this peculiarity illuminate how we understand the Aquarian archetype? Let’s find out.

I was pondering this matter in preparation for Aquarius season and in honor of my husband who is born right at the very beginning of Aquarius season. Suddenly something clicked when I considered Mark Solms’ latest discoveries in neuropsychology. I highly recommend watching the linked video but the abridged version is, neuroscience has long considered the cerebral cortex to be the seat of our consciousness, however, new evidence suggests it is the brain stem, the emotional and primal locus in our brain, that is the seat of our consciousness.

It is not, as Descartes would have us believe “I think therefore I am.” But instead, it is I feel therefore I am.

Consciousness and what it is, where it is, and how we define it, is a great debate, one that has been discussed since the forums of ancient times.

Since modern science has long considered consciousness to reside in the cerebral cortex, the distinctly human part of the brain, it could be argued that this line of thinking has contributed to the human propensity for exceptionalism and even elitism. This line of thinking has been used to perpetuate eugenics and other racist theories along with distancing human beings from the rest of the animal species that occupy our Earthly habitats. In my undergraduate thesis, I posit that it is in part this exceptionalism and the language that has developed around this construct that has cost especially white folks, particularly those in America, their sustainable relationship with the environment. In an effort to distinguish white folks and whiteness from the Other and from animals, religious and political voices promoted exceptionalism and distinction from the Earth and the natural world. Today it has proven to be a convoluted challenge for white folks and many Americans to take responsibility for their impact on the environment and practices of sustainability.

In this vain, I often ask, how conscientious is the animal that destroys its own habitat?

So what if we consider Solms’ findings? What if we assume his discovery of consciousness as residing in the brain stem is correct? First, we must recognize that many many other species share this part of the brain, and next, we must consider the nature of the impulses that emanate from our brain stem. It is an emotional, instinctive core, and dare I say, an intuitive center. Suddenly it is not our intellectualism that proves our consciousness but our emotionality, our intuitive nature that confirms our consciousness. “Raw feelings are the fundamental form of consciousness,” says Solms, later explaining that this is a survival tactic. The ability to feel allows us to react appropriately to danger. If we were unable to feel suffocation, we would fail to at least attempt to remove ourselves from a burning building, for example. We do not intentionally process the notion that we are gasping for air, we feel the urgency and need to escape danger and return to the kind of breathing that requires none of our attention.

Consciousness is often associated with presence and awareness. With this and Solms’ findings in mind, I agree that feelings and our emotional experiences are our most conscious states.

It is a presence described by our responsiveness to the current moment.

Now let’s consider the elements of water and air along with their archetypes. Water represents an emotional, intuitive, and feeling archetype. Air is a cognitive, intellectual, and communicative archetype. Aquarius is an air sign, and the zodiac that is archetypally associated with systems of ideas, higher consciousness, and collective communications. For Aquarius to be a water bearer but an air sign, is, as we have established, somewhat curious if not mystifying.

So what if we consider Aquarius the water bearer, the archetype of intellectual innovation, systemic psychology, and collective understanding, the structure by which consciousness, Solms’ emotionally defined consciousness, can be contained? Without a vessel, consciousness is another ingredient in the primordial soup. But with the vessel of the Aquarian, the emotional consciousness can be carried, contained, and sustained. It is not at all that the Aquarian is an emotional archetype but instead that it is the one that offers a container for emotionality, thus giving space and form to our collective consciousness.

As a symbol of consciousness, of communal understanding, and mass communication, Aquarius forms the vessel, to bear the water of emotions, of consciousness.

A Devotional Love: Virgo

Virgo is often associated with a virgin, but that word means something very different now than when ancients named the constellations.

The muses of this constellation were the women that tended the sacred fire of Rome, using their flexible and intuitive magic to keep the fire burning as long as the Roman Empire held power (for better or worse). These women were considered to ‘belong to themselves,’ they were not owned or partnered and held sovereign dignity over their own abilities and bodies. They were called the Vestal Virgins and it is this archetype of earthly mutability that describes Virgo. 

Mutable signs adapt and use flexibility to respond to the world and life. They are called to lessons of transmitting and transmuting, of alchemical transformation. The Vestal Virgins of Rome were called to adapt and accommodate every gust of wind, every storm, every fuel shortage, and every elemental reality on Earth as they fulfilled their sacred duty. They act in service to a greater cause, they perform their devotion consistently and with close attention to the soil, to reality, to the Earth. This is the magic of Virgo, to act in service with intention and devotion to the community. 

It takes a discerning eye, a conscious mind, and a tasteful palette to embody the Virgo magic; and while these qualities can make for remarkable designers, care practitioners, and chefs, the very same discernment can make for a master of criticism, perfectionism, and even narrow-mindedness. A great deal of care must be taken, a balance of awe and open-heartedness is needed with this shrewdness. As the archetype of service, the magic lays in the dignity and honor of the devotion of care, and the downfall appears in the form of enslavement and victimhood. We all know what happens when we act in service, expecting gratitude and recognition only to receive nothing in response. Resentment forms a callous over the generosity of devotion and a bitter taste comes to the mouth. After days, maybe weeks of bending over backward to accommodate someone's needs, without the selflessness of caregiving we are sure to feel burnt out and taken advantage of, even victimized. If instead, we consider that our rituals of care are as much for us as they are for the other, a serenely spiritual quality comes over the mess of changing a diaper, or cooking and cleaning. It is also kind to remind ourselves that if we offer ourselves those same acts of care, we may find more ease in offering them to others.

Virgo teaches us there is magic to the sharing of care, there is a special alchemy that comes from giving to the self as much as the other, and there is a spell cast by the call to flexibility in our everyday lives. 

Virgo Archetypal characters:

Chef

Gardener

Any Care Practitioner (Therapist, Nurse, etc.)

Data Analyst

Scientific Researcher

Alchemist

Hair Stylist

Designer

confidence

Building confidence is one of those things you can see a therapist for. There are techniques mental health researchers have studied carefully that are considered proven to build a sense of self-efficacy. In fact, the principles of social work require practitioners to uphold a belief in the client even when they themselves cannot see their own strength or capacity for change. A beloved phrase among mental health practitioners that was said to me at a crucial moment, just before my very first talk therapy session with a real live human,

“Borrow my confidence in you. If you can’t find the confidence, know that I have confidence in you, and let that be enough.”

I held on to that vote of confidence and over time I proved to myself that I had every reason to trust my abilities. And that’s what we do in therapy, gather data to help reflect strengths and self-efficacy rather than perpetuate a narrative of failure, incapacity, and limitation. 

Sticky Note Affirmation Exercise

1. Secure a fresh stack of sticky-notes (found these cuties)

2. Pick a mirror, maybe a private one for you and your meditation

3. Pick a regular time you’ll return to that mirror at

4. Each day, write one thing you love and appreciate about yourself on a sticky-note

5. Make eye contact with yourself and say what you wrote out loud

6. Stick the note on the mirror 

7. Repeat every day, as consistently as you’re able ‘til the stack is gone, more if it’s still supporting you 

Full disclosure, when my therapist had me do this exercise, I cried almost every morning for at least the first month. I cried because I felt ashamed I couldn’t think of anything. I cried because I thought it was f%#ed up I was so mean to myself. I cried because I knew there was something and how dare I waste a life hating myself!  I cried because I could think of a million things for virtually anyone else but somehow I couldn’t appreciate myself?! I cried because I knew so much of my challenge was a product of oppressive and hateful forces. I felt absurd until one day I could look myself in the eyes with gratitude and humbly remind myself of what unique magic I bring to the world, of how far I have come, and how far I am willing to go. 

I suspect this technique works best for people that are particularly validated by words of affirmation, which I am. It’s fairly simple, if words of affirmation work well for a you, then whether they’re kind or critical affirmations, they’re likely to stick. Intentionally replacing the critical and even hateful affirmations with self-appreciation requires us to create a new vocabulary and with eye contact, develop mirror neurons that sustain our memory, our understanding of self from that appreciative perspective. 

The Meaning of Life

Y’all heard the new social media mantra? 

“What is the meaning of life? I’ll answer in five words. Enjoying the passage of time.” 

I believe the phrase went viral because of its truth and simplicity. It makes perhaps the most significantly confrontational question of life into an accessible, albeit challenging daily practice of devotion to the art of enjoyment and pleasure. It flies in the face of generations of living for the sake of production and labor.  

When I was traveling in Europe with my best friend, I spent a lot of time ‘waiting.’ There were lines and layovers that required a certain amount of patience I don’t relate to. In my frustration, I offered myself a reframe in the form of a promise. 

I promised myself I would never waste time in my life.

I devoted myself to a lifestyle of enjoying time spent, valuing it, and creating intentional presence. Practically, this just means I usually bring a book with me or read from my phone, I strike up conversations with strangers with the intention of learning from them, I complete little tasks when I have ‘time to kill’ and I consider taking a nap or watching a fun show a task I must complete. 

Everything on my to-do list on paper or in my head holds equal importance. Some things may be more urgent, more time-sensitive but no chore is more important than rest, no job is more important than play. By allowing everything to be equally valuable I can avoid the traps of finance capitalism's productivity-oriented version of success. I can orient myself toward the lifestyle I wish to lead which is governed by the premise that a successful life is one in which I have fully enjoyed the passage of time. 

A ritual in intentionality…

I often ask therapy clients to try a mindfulness technique. It’s a simple question with a big purpose. When passing time and not feeling the best, check-in with yourself and ask

“is this actually what I want to be doing?”

Feel into the question and answer honestly and without judgment.  The only correct answer is the truthful one. Proceed from this place if affirmation. You have not confirmed this is how you’d like to spend your time or empower yourself to change your dynamic.

Everything does not Happens for a Reason

I will never accept that ‘everything happens for a reason,’ but as someone who believes in the power of faith, and someone who desires to assert my own sense of free will, I have chosen to believe that I can make meaning from anything.

That is not to say I can make sense of tragedy or justify the unjust, but in an effort to find peace, I can accept that I become stronger through the endurance of the catastrophe. 

As someone who has survived sexual assault, I can hardly imagine a way I could be convinced that what happened to me, what happens to more than a third of the women in the world, was reasonable or happened for a reason. Neither am I willing to attach to a victim identity. Instead, I have chosen to make meaning of my experiences. This practice of meaning-making is by no means my own innovation, in fact, I imagine it is as ancient a practice as the development of mythology. Just as myth is the creation of a story, the telling of a tale for the understanding and sense-making of an entire culture, so too is meaning-making, the process of creating a story from the fragmented, chaotic, and seemingly meaningless parts of our inner culture. 

Our own narratives are, more often than not, a reflection of the myths of our culture. 

The real challenge comes when we attempt to liberate ourselves from the toxic mythologies of our own cultures. The stories of blame and shame seem to punish us just for being born into a world full of dangerous and violent narratives.

In Man’s Search for Meaning, a book I cannot recommend highly enough, Viktor Frankl recounts the atrocities of surviving the Holocaust and explains the therapeutic technique he developed. He refrains from many of the narratives that depict the incredible violence of this genocide, instead focusing on the opportunities for meaning-making that he would develop into the therapeutic technique called logotherapy, the therapy of making meaning. As with all senseless violence, there is absolutely no justification or reasoning that can be used to address the Holocaust, instead, the author makes meaning of who he is and how he became who he was meant to be. Despite the irreconcilable losses and violence that Frankl endured, he was able to shift his perspective from one of victim of circumstance to one of purpose. His purpose? To survive. To endure the impossible, to go on to make meaningful written works, and to fulfill his sense of purpose as a therapist with a greater understanding of traumatic experiences than most. Not only did he live on to create meaningful therapeutic techniques and texts, but Frankl credits his ability to maintain a sense of meaning as the reason he was able to survive torture and enslavement in the Nazi internment camps. 

Frankl seems to have created an inner narrative that could sustain him even in the face of the murder of his wife, parents, and all of his family. Not only this, he maintained a sense of purpose and trust in his purpose whether he survived the internment camps or not. He continued to provide medical care and relief to his fellow prisoners even as he was tortured and fell terribly ill himself. In the face of senseless violence, he stayed connected to his own reasons for living, his own meaning of it all. Though there was no reason Viktor Frankl should have faced the devastation he endured, from his own sense of free will and belief, he created meaning and purpose, tools that helped him survive spiritually and literally.

In The Myth of Normal, Gabor Maté, an infant when he and his mother fled Nazi-occupied Hungary, the renowned physician and author speaks to both the empowering and disempowering qualities of myth. He begins his book with a critique of the modern myth of productivism and the symptoms of ill health we have normalized in the name of work, propped up by certain concerning practices in modern medicine.

He demonstrates the power of myth and how significantly it impacts human behavior and therefore our culture and sense of health and well-being.

Finally, he calls on the power of myth to guide us to more sustainable and regenerative behavior. He points to how, generations ago, people took lessons of moral obligation from mythology, learning how to grow food sustainably and treat one another well from ancient mythological resources. Without regenerative cultural stories to guide us, what meaning do we make of our experience as over-worked and highly traumatized beings, paying handsomely to live in a culture that challenges our health at every turn?

While Nietzsche said “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger” he couldn’t have meant that trauma itself makes for stronger stock. Instead, the overcoming of adversity, the growth in spite of violence, and pain is the fire where strength is forged.

No one should have to be so strong as to look assault or any trauma in the face with the determination to go on, yet so many of us are called to this strength training. We face it, hopefully with the support system that reminds us that nothing we have ever done deserves the trauma we have received. The kind of fortitude that we must find within us is our reward granted in the face of a punishing society full of false and toxic narratives.

Not everything happens for a reason and we certainly don’t deserve to be learning the lessons of what it means to live in this violent time. Since we’re here though, what meaning do you make of all the lessons you never should have been responsible for learning?