Higher Power + Natal Charts

A professor of genetics once taught me that evolution does not behave linearly.

That is to say, while there is something to the concept of survival of the fittest, genetic mutations or the causes and effects within a sequence of genes are not exclusively ruled by this concept of survival of the fittest. Instead, there is a fifty percent chance that the fittest or ‘more favorable’ genetic outcome occurs and a fifty percent chance the outcome is random, something totally unexpected or even expected and feared. So it’s just as likely all goes according to a positivist evolutionary trajectory and as it is something beyond our understanding occurs, something seemingly random. This served to completely challenge my understanding of the matrix and all her processes. While I had once felt a type of certainty that there was a direction to it all, “an arc to the moral universe [... one that] bends toward justice” as Mart Luther King Jr. said, I was now forced to move my conceptualization of the Universe into a new dimension. I would later find it was not just a new dimension but more dimensions, that must be contended with in order to gain a satisfactory perspective on whatever the Universe is and what we’re all doing here. 

I don’t claim to have all the answers by any means. However, I have a take that allows me a sense of peace I have never accessed before.

In a small college dorm room, several hours into a psychedelic trip and sprawling on any surface that could support our languid and extraterrestrial bodies, I once asked a friend what his definition of God was. He answered more succinctly than I could have ever anticipated.

“God is omnipotent and omniscient.”

…I’ve been chewing on this premium definition ever since. 

If God is omnipotent and omniscient which I feel is the most all-encompassing definition of God and therefore the most appealing and accessible definition of god I have ever found… then God cannot be an entity but instead a process. The only way, at least according to my lil human mind, God could know everything and be everything is for God to be happening over time. Of course, time is one of those mystifying constructs that proves increasingly difficult to understand; linear or otherwise, from our human perspective, time certainly appears to be a process, to have a trajectory, to have some version of a direction even if that is in a multidimensional weblike context. God cannot be omnipotent and omniscient in a static or singular way, it must span time as well, stretching across all dimensions.

The God of the Hebrew Bible (the oldest definition of God I have a relationship with) is in everything, is of everything, and created all. This God is the creator of everything at the same time it is everything. We (Jews) owe our gratitude, awe, and respect to everything, from the smallest stone to the greatest mountain range, from the most brilliant invention to the most humble craft, because it is all God. These two definitions fit quite nicely together, in order for this God to be both omnipotent and omniscient, we must all be God, everything must be God. In fact, in order for God to know everything and be everything, we all must live out our experiences, embody our realities, and be ourselves. All entities from events to animal bodies, constructs to political movements, geological periods to ideas and equations, are God.

It was through this line of thinking that I came to consider natal charts as the most divine filing system, keeping track of every iteration of God. Everything, from a question to an entity, to an event, can have an astrological chart cast for it. Every entity, animal, mineral, and temporal, has a chart that marks its identity as well as trajectory. It’s like a map to that iteration of God; it is the responsibility of that entity to embody those lessons, that vantage point, those coordinates, characteristics, and context. Each natal chart is a depiction of a particular time and space in the galaxy that is interpreted through the multicultural archetypes that have developed over millennia.  A natal chart might just be our contract with the Universe to embody our context in order to participate in the multi-dimensional project that is God. Each of us and everything in between has a chart that acts as a key or blueprint to our nature, our highest self, and the lessons we must learn in our specific timescape.

As we embrace our most connected and aware selves, we contribute to the omniscience and omnipotence that is God.

Finally, to bring this concept into the realm of wellness and mental health. For me, this conceptualization of the Universe and God has allowed the kind of acceptance and humor I have often sought in my most embittered and disillusioned states. If we conceive of ourselves as a version of God, tasked with the lessons we must learn and opportunities that we must take in order for God to know what that reality is like, we may find some grace on our path. Not only are we divine in our own right, but we are living with the purpose of a sacred mission, as part of a numinous collective, not simply aware of a higher power but living as our most empowered and highest self.  

From my perspective, I am but a product of my context. I exist only as an expression of the heritage of causes and effects that have created this particular timespace. My joy, my trauma, my power, are all contained within the context that I occupy, and that context is perfectly articulated by my natal chart. I then have the opportunity to play with this context, test its bounds and challenge its assumptions, all in an effort to engage in the games of the Universe, in the omnipotence and omniscience of God.

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

A Case For Astrology As A Therapeutic Tool

The broadest and perhaps the most useful definition of trauma that I have ever come across is any challenge for which we are not prepared. 

In the mental health world, being well-resourced is considered a crucial factor when assessing trauma and what we refer to as “protective factors.” Someone with many protective factors at their disposal is considered well-resourced, making them less vulnerable to being unprepared for challenges and therefore less likely to experience trauma. That is not to say they will not experience events that many would consider traumatic, it is instead to clarify that with the right resources comes preparedness. Challenging events may remain challenging rather than morph into traumatic events when someone has the resources, the capacity, to approach the event as a challenge rather than something for which they are not prepared. 

So what do resources look like and how can we protect ourselves against trauma?

Resources are an equally broad term as the above, trauma. Resources are most commonly thought of as the tangible, material goods that sustain us; money, food, clothing, housing, fuel etc. Beyond those basic resources lie even more socially complicated access to services, proximity to privilege, and abstract resources like educational/academic access, the skills to calm a reactive nervous system, ecological privilege, physiological and mental health, and the all-important supportive and caring community. I cannot stress enough, the value and importance of a supportive community. When all resources are accessible and sound, someone impacted by a recognizably traumatic event, a devastating hurricane, for example, will be less likely to internalize the experience as traumatic. They are, strangely enough, prepared for this event in that they have a toolbox that is stocked with resources for their protection. They have access to housing or financial resources to keep a roof over their head, they have access to health and healthy coping mechanisms, and they have a caring community to process the tragedy with, all which serve as protective factors that prevent a challenge from becoming trauma. 

Here’s where astrology comes in. 

If protective factors and preparedness are the difference between a challenge and trauma, using the wisdom of the cycles of life and the orbit of the planets as another tool to help prepare us for unforeseen challenges has the potential to protect us against trauma. When using astrology to understand potential or current challenges we can gain an archetypal understanding of what is to come and what we are facing now. With the extremely macro perspective of the planets, asteroids, and their respective orbits, we can implement a protective factor that operates on several levels at once. For one, the orbit of planets offers the promise that as the Persian adage goes,

“this too shall pass.”

Through the naturally orbital quality of life on Earth, we can have faith in the fact that nothing is static, everything will change, and there is something much much greater than us that is operating in the same cyclical format that we experience in our everyday lives. As Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk writes in The Body Keeps Score,

“Awareness that all experience is transitory changes your perspective on yourself.”

While the cosmos promises change, it also can be something we have faith in, we can put our trust in it to just keep spinning, to move in a predictable way as demonstrated in an ephemeris, a record of 9,000 years of planetary positions. As I’ve written about before, faith or trust is a crucial pillar of our mental well-being. To be able to trust despite the seeming chaos of our realities helps to calm the reactivity of such an unpredictable experience. Astrological awareness also serves to highlight the connectedness and archetypal patterns of the cosmos. For me, this offers confidence and trust in a system that is so vast it is beyond my complete understanding; only available to my mind where the universe allows me insight.

 It feels important to note that, as Richard Tarnas says, astrology is archetypally predictive. While some astrologers may be able to give exact predictions that come true in distinctly accurate ways, I find astrology most useful in its ability to make archetypal predictions that speak to the qualities and archetypes of the relevant celestial bodies and how they may offer important life lessons to the individual and the collective. To clarify, I believe some astrologers are deeply intuitive, myself included (hello! grand trine and six planets in water), and are therefore able to offer a look at the future that astrology doesn’t necessarily predict. With clients, and in my own life, I do not make predictions. For one, I am prone to paranoia, and telling myself something bad will happen at the transit of certain planets does nothing but challenge my sense of well-being. For another, the self-fulfilling nature of a predictive dynamic impedes self-determination and one’s sense of empowerment which could not be less aligned with my intentions as a practitioner.

Living an intentional life, with awareness of the gravitational pull of the planets and how certain archetypes may appear in our life is one more tool that we can use as a protective factor. Though we may not be able to see the future outside of its archetypal qualities, that knowledge alone may offer a great deal of support and validation. For example, nearly everyone who makes it to age 44 will experience an archetypally similar urge to liberate, to upset the norms in their life, to try something they have never tried before, perhaps buy a flashy car or end an important relationship; this urge coincides with what astrologers call the Uranus opposition. This astrological signature, defined by the planet Uranus, that is associated with upsetting the status quo, (violent and nonviolent) revolutions, and technological advancement, is called a Uranus opposition. It occurs approximately at age 44 and marks the period when the planet Uranus is positioned opposite the natal placement of Uranus. In American culture, this period is often referred to as a mid-life crisis. With this knowledge, someone around the age of their Uranus opposition has the awareness to respond to the upset of this dynamic with intention and preparedness. The readiness is possible for other transits including a Saturn return; not only is it validating and affirming to know you are in an age marked by challenging lessons but one can even prepare for the archetypal character of these challenges by locating the position of Saturn and drawing on the wisdom of generations of ancestral observers. 

There are many generations of communities that have built on the wisdom of astrology. These communities have spent thousands of years creating a kind of observational and archetypal database of the correlation between human life and the position of the planets. By drawing on this wisdom, we can gain a sense of our place and purpose in the cosmos, cultivate a sort of trust in the cycles of life, bask in the poetry of the universe, and increase our awareness and preparedness for what life has to offer on individual and collective levels. Again, drawing on the wisdom shared in The Body Keeps Score,

“Seeing novel connections is the cardinal feature of creativity; [...] it’s also essential to healing.”

Astrology is nothing if not the perfect opportunity to see new connections, create a new and viable narrative, and thus offer healing through the creative integration of the self, using archetypes that have been maintained through millennia. Though we may not be able to predict the future, it seems we may not even want to, for fear of giving up any semblance of agency and free will. Instead, we can gain an archetypal understanding of the challenges and ease the universe has to offer and approach them with a preparedness that can protect us and offer us greater opportunities for an intentional and present life.

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.

Trust + Purpose

Hungry and restless, just a month into the COVID-19 pandemic, I found myself urgently seeking. I was seeking what it seems we all strive for, purpose and direction or more dogmatically speaking, faith. I looked to the traditions of my family and was drawn to honoring my Grandma Doris by journeying into the traditions of keeping a Jewish household. My Grandma, Doris, has always offered me guidance. She died at what I morbidly consider an ideal age in my life course, as my 6-year-old brain refused to let her go in any spiritual or philosophical sense. She has always been just over my shoulder, sometimes offering a soft touch, other times guiding me with a firm crab-like pinch that is surprisingly strong and pointed. She has never interfered but comes to me when I ask her for guidance, using her strength only when I ask without truly listening. 

It took less than six hour-long zoom calls with a Rabbi for me to experience the significant benefits of what it means to have faith. For years I have repeated my father’s words, “faith, is simply a gift I haven’t been granted.” But a look into Jewish traditions and how they are reflected in my own beliefs directly challenged that spell I had unintentionally cast by repeating my father’s words. Firstly, I don’t believe my father means this in any kind of absolutist way. He is a man who believes and has taught me to believe strongly in the unknowable magick of the cosmos, in the divinity that is nature. Second, what my father taught me to have faith in, is to me, the gift of faith itself, though it doesn’t quite fit the culturally Christian orientation of the English language. Thirdly, and most importantly for me, faith in the magic of the universe is perhaps the most foundational faith expressed in Judaism.

There is a requirement to recognize the value in absolutely everything in and of the universe in Judaism that rests on the idea that G-d is and creates everything. In a fundamental sense, reverence for G-d applies to everything and everyone, quite literally as it is all G-d.

I believe I was taught this subliminally through my father’s ancestral traditions, likely without him realizing the significance of this messaging in his life or his children’s. 

Despite the devastation of a global pandemic, increasingly abhorent social inequality, and environmental collapse, my faith and my sense of purpose have been growing. As I embrace myself within the belief that all things, all beings are owed the love and respect with which I regard the divine, I watched my mental health begin to improve, and with that came the desire to engage more deeply with my life in order to craft an existence that I consider a work of art. I began to care for myself not with routines that ‘I had to complete,’ marked by obligation, but with rituals that I cherish and look forward to practicing. Simply, I reminded myself to look forward to grooming myself, practicing yoga asanas, consuming intentionally, doing my morning pages (The Artist's Way, 1992), cooking; whatever the practice, I ritualize it to stay present with the gifts that are the ability to enact these rituals, the time, the knowledge, the work of the ancestors that brought me to this sacred moment I am in.

This practice gave me trust in myself.

It has also supported a sense of purpose giving me the confidence to invest in a master's program to study Social Work. I thought I chose Social Work because my Grandma Doris was a Social Worker but I believe the part of me that knew to do my research, to investigate the distinctions between the many mental health practices and degrees, saw that there is something bigger to why and how Social Work became my path. The field takes a highly practical (and hopefully accessible) approach to mental health by including the many facets of the individual human experience. For example, a social worker is called to recognize the interconnected nature of mental illness and homelessness as part of the wellness of a client experiencing both, rather than attempting to treat for one or the other. Later, through my studies, I would learn that the code of ethics at the foundation of Social Work played a powerful part in my decision as they seem informed by Jewish values, though potentially a subconscious reflection of Jewish values. This idea clicked into place for me when I studied Frances Perkins, appointed by FDR as the first female to a cabinet seat in the role of crafting social security policy in its nascent form. Since then, it seems Jewish people have continued to play a pivotal role in crafting and practicing in the field of Social Work.   

As it was with my undergraduate education in linguistics and photography, the connections were all so potent I couldn’t stop noticing them. That’s when astrology, a modality that has always fascinated me, was offered to me as the second field of study that would influence me in this phase of life. A mentor of my father’s introduced me to Debra Silverman, a giant in the astrology world and a former psychotherapist. As I dove into the wisdom of the cosmos and what astrology can offer the individual and the collective, I began to see the potential of astrology as a practice to support people’s sense of faith and purpose. Every interpretation I made for myself or reading I have offered has tapped into these two pillars. Meanwhile, many of the texts (here’s another) I read in my Social Work studies suggest purpose and faith or trust to be protective factors against depression, anxiety, and other mental health challenges including addiction. The field of Social Work requires practitioners to abide by a code of ethics, one that preserves social justice and human dignity. The ethical compass of Social Work also reminds practitioners that no method of treatment that offers healing, *ideally* without harm, should be excluded particularly according to social, political, or spiritual bias. Over and over, astrology has presented itself to me as a tool that supports a sense of purpose and trust in self and/or the universe. The principles of Social Work seem to require the respect of the tradition of astrology despite it being culturally regarded as ‘the most woo of all things woo’ to quote Jessica Lanyadoo. At the end of the day, no matter how ‘woo’ one regards the modality, astrology can help people find a sense of trust or faith and purpose, and that is worth doing for the individual and collective sense of well-being.