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.

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.

Capricorn: Use and Conservation

The archetype of Capricorn exists on a spectrum of use and conservation. It speaks to the governance of resource and intentional management of time, space, and goods. The archetypal opposites that depict the spectrum of Capricorn, the modern capitalist banker, willing to cultivate capital wealth based on a precarious and unsustainable value system at the expense of the environment and future generations on the one hand; and the purposeful indigenous ancestors who planted seeds generations ago, knowing they were creating sustainable wealth for the future based on time tested wisdom that honors the sacred land on the other. The legacy is what matters to ambitious Capricorn, and the lessons of this cool, boundaried, and powerful archetype are focused on whether it’s all worth in the end.

When there’s nothing left but your name, what will it mean?

Capricorn is the archetypal embodiment of economics. The root of the word economy leads us to the original meaning that signifies management of the home or clan. This is where the practical nature of Capricorn shines bright; a great deal of responsibility and pragmatism must go into maintaining the stability of the home, its structure and resources, over time. This means a strong understanding of what is valuable, what is “worth it” must be cultivated to make sustainable choices. It means understanding the needs of the collective and maintaining enough distance to make hard choices that are required of a leader. It means holding space for all of the emotional complexities of the home and supporting healthy boundaries that are the foundation of healthy relationships.

Capricorn is a cardinal sign that is oriented toward initiation of action and the competitive desire to achieve. It is also an Earth sign, making it materially and tangibly inspired and motivated. The Earth, moved by the cardinal modality initiates purpose and meaningful action toward efforts that will last. Capricorn creates structural integrity out of generational wisdom and ancestral tradition to forge a purposeful foundation stable enough to hold the future.

The constellation of the Sea Goat has a number of origins including the goat nymph that raised Zeus in hiding to protect him from his father. Amalthea, the goat nymph was rewarded for her service to Zeus’ Mother, Rhea by being put into the sky for eternity. Another Greek myth tells the story of Pan, Amalthea’s brother, half man and half goat who was turned into a fish so he might survive the waters and escape the rage of Typhon. Some myths go farther back to Babylonian times when the God Ea climbed out of the rivers he ruled in a cape of fish skin. No matter the story, there is a strong connection to Saturnalian as the ancient holiday of debauchery, gluttony, and sexual abandon fell during Capricorn season and celebrates the same God (Saturn) that rules the sign of the Sea Goat.

The ruling planet of Capricorn is Saturn which is the embodiment of time, structure, discipline, authority, boundaries, and maturity. Saturn reinforces the systematic techniques of the intentional steps used to create a lasting of Capricorn. The Saturn cycle marks our path to maturity and responsibility, taking a full 29 years to complete. Saturn is the slowest moving planet of all that can be seen by the naked eye and is also therefore the last planet that can be seen without technological support.

In our body, Capricorn rules the shins and all bones, our joints, skeletal system, and our teeth. The hardest parts of us that provide structure and perhaps remind us of the passage of time the with particular persistence.

Capricorn speaks from purpose.

The etymology of purpose describes the tension between action and intention that Capricorn must learn to articulate and embody. The urge to take action and the need to understand who, what, where, when, why, what for of it all, are at odds. As pro/por indicate the forward action of cardinality, the pauein/pausis/pausa/pausare/poser indicate the need to hold back, take pause, to place before losing track of the goal or target.

Knowing when to end calculations and take action is a lesson of Capricorn. Understanding which actions are worth taking and which costs cannot be avoided is a lesson of Capricorn. Coming to terms with ends justifying the means is a lesson of Capricorn. Balancing the urge to move into the future and hold on to valuable traditions of the past is a lesson of Capricorn.

Boundaries

The archetype of Capricorn teaches through boundaries. It can be challenging to calculate our boundaries and be discerning when it comes to how and when we spend our resources. Often we are taught lessons of boundaries by failing to hold them or by setting such impossible boundaries we must choose not to enforce them. We may learn what too much looks like by missing the indication we have gone too far by hitting our limit and facing harsh consequences. We may learn what not enough looks like my allowing ourselves to be overworked and exploited only to hit a wall of burnout too taxing to ignore. Whatever the context, we learn lessons of boundaries and limitations through the sign of Capricorn and its Ruler Saturn.

The planet Saturn is the symbol of boundaries and demonstrates as much through the structure of the planet with its rings of spinning rocks hurtling through space in an exceptionally organized format. As individuals we must learn to hold onto our own structure to protect us from being forced to conform to a shape that is inauthentic to our systems and values. Boundaries are the structure that support engagement; they are the foundation of any healthy relationship as they allow relating while upholding enough structure that all parties are able to maintain their own authenticity. By developing healthy boundaries, we conserve our own and other’s values and resources and we maintain sovereignty.

Remember:

Boundaries are the distance I can love you and me simultaneously.

We need not treat our boundaries like a series of brick walls that surround us to keep everything out. Instead, we can treat them more like a lovely home with fine doors and windows with secure latches, that is designed to invite folks in when the time and resources allow and keep out whatever or whomever depletes our resources.

Capricorn Keywords

Empowered: ambitious, paternal, pragmatic, developmental, structural, lessons of sustainability and legacy

Disempowered: elitist, high and mighty, unfeeling, singleminded, power-hungry, dissociated

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.