Sunday, October 15, 2017

Scorpio for a Day

Time for a break from the PsychKicks posts to replay some seasonal favorites. Enjoy!

A Little Halloween Humor

© 2009 - 2017 by Joyce Mason. All Rights Reserved

Back when I was growing up boomer in the 1950s and ‘60s, there was this schmaltzy show called Queen for a Day. On its nostalgic website, Queen is described as an early rags-to-riches reality show. Broadcasting live from the historic theatre-restaurant, Moulin Rouge, in Hollywood, each episode would consist of three to four women competing to become Queen for a Day. The women revealed their most personal stories to the American public. Audience members then decided which woman’s story was most heart wrenching (by use of the applause-o-meter) and the winner was crowned Queen for a Day.

Well, that may be fine for a Leo down on her luck who actually managed to swallow her pride, but it gave me an idea about Halloween. Halloween is the one day a year we can all be Scorpios for a day! It’s even expected of us! Then I got to thinking: How would each sign of the zodiac “do Scorpio?” Naturally, some signs might be more predisposed to Scorpio’s well-known darkness, power tripping, and sex mania. (OK, to be fair, their extreme depth and natural abilities to transform themselves.) Here’s my best guess on what this masquerade party would look like. I’d call it my Halloween Scorp-Off. You’re invited. Please comment if you have other costume ideas!

Aries: Rams love sharp objects. Combine their ruler Mars with Scorpio’s, Pluto, and you have a recipe for torture and death by knives and other sharp objects. Since they are so often attracted to their opposite, Libra, this is your chance to impersonate a carnival knife thrower with the quaking Libra as the “hope-he’ll-Miss.” It would even be more hilarious and astrologically pointed if in a traditional role reversal with a female Aries throwing knives at a male Libra. The juxtaposition of it just makes me tingle! If you’d rather fly solo and very much on the dark side, you can go as Dexter, the CSI turned serial thrill killer who loves to implement comeuppance on the “bad” serial killers. Not to forget, its star, Michael C. Hall, got a lot of experience at death’s door playing an undertaker in Six Feet Under. Don’t forget your CSI kit or medical bag, especially the scalpels and other "possibilities."

Taurus: To be creepy yet pretty for their Venus sensibilities, I suggest a wartless, high-fashion witch or wizard, the kind that eats little children. After all, we know how those Tauri like their snacks. (Heads-up and no Bull! You can still find nostalgic chocolate babies candy—still a sick idea to me today—to carry in your portable cauldron to sink your sweet tooth into and add to the full effect.)

Gemini: Women, dress as Sybil or any other multi-personality maniac and morph dramatically all night. Men might wear a dark cape and one of those creepy masks that has a face on both the back and front. To be witty and symbolic, perhaps the faces are comedy and tragedy—or any pair of opposites, like Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker or George Bush and Barack Obama.

Cancer: It’s difficult for any Cancer, male or female, to play an anti-nurturer, but do it s/he must. It’s Halloween! A women Cancer can bring her date to play her adult son and come as the domineering, evil mom in The Manchurian Candidate. (I love the original version with Angela Lansbury and have not yet seen the more recent, Meryl Streep version. These normally nice ladies prove anyone can be diabolical when acting.) There are many potential characters in the mean mother genre, including Mommy Dearest, Fay Dunaway’s portrayal of Joan Crawford who apparently would not get the normal Cancer’s Mom of the Year Award. Men Cancers might play the evil nurturer more literally and come with various candy pills or powders to slip into people’s drinks, while having ready a string of statements said straight-faced and kindly, such as, “Drink this, my friend. It’ll take any pressure off for being the life of the party.” Or carry fake poisons carried in a Halloween bucket; position the bucket near someone’s foot before saying, “I made this just for you. You’ll get such a kick out of it.” Or you could come smeared in fake blood and grease, carry a skillet and a carving knife, look mean, and be a contestant on Iron Chef (especially good for those who also have a dose of Aries in their charts). For the mother/child relationship gone bad, a couple could play Norman in Psycho and his deceased mom.

Leo: Since both Leo and Scorpio tend to be high-drama signs, this is a natural. Except for the part where sunny Leo has to be “made in the shade.” Since that has a Tony Soprano ring to it, a thug and/or his moll would be the perfect get-up. Leos like to be the center of attention, so he or she could also choose a very limelighty model of mayhem, like Bonnie or Clyde or maybe Al Capone. Girl Lions: How about some real juicy historical murderer like Lucretia Borgia? You’re so fiery; a pyromaniac would be a good choice, too. (Watch those matches.)

Virgo: Poor Virgo would only come to this party with a gun pointed at her head. Not a bad idea. Virgo brings a partner to play the nutcase. As Virgos live to serve, she’s glad to be his victim and knows she also simply must agree to be his sex slave. She arrives at the party in a tasteful, but somewhat revealing submissive costume—preferably, one of those little maid outfits. You know how Virgos love to clean! She will be handcuffed to the perpetrator who will wave his gun around makes her say witty, suggestive things at his direction about what he plans to do with her later. (Anyone who reads The Radical Virgo should be onto the fact that Virgos are really earthy babes with big libidos looking for the right person to do it with.) Guy Virgos: Come as Adrian Monk and try to solve the cases of murder and mayhem rampant in this den of iniquity. Your date can play your assistant, either Natalie or Sharona, depending on personality type. Don’t forget the wipes!

Libra: This sign may have the most difficulty of anyone at this party, because it’s so hard to be nice all the time and be Scorpio. (Sorry, Scorps.) Since they rarely function solo, Libras should attend this “do” with a Scorpio bent on luring them out of their comfort zone. This will not be difficult, as we know Libras are the “yes, dears” of the zodiac. Other partygoers can let out their inner Scorpio as we watch this poor thing become more and more embarrassed and humiliated by her next-door neighbor in the zodiacal pie. (Diabolical laugh.) If she has a costume, she should play someone from a wholesome, nice era of history, like Mrs. C. on Happy Days.

Scorpio: Well, you could come as yourself, of course. Or you could come as a Double Scorpio. After all, being a Scorpio playing a Scorpio—imagine the possibilities! You could impersonate countless famous, fictitious killers, menaces, or sexpots. (Stay away from criminals still living or too recent to avoid turning fun into something truly chilling.) Ideas: Jack the Ripper (give it a playful twist and rip rags near the ear of women you’re trying to seduce), King Kong in an ape costume with a sexy little doll he can menace while not jumping on furniture or threatening to abduct the actual women at the party. (“Wanna come back to my skyscraper and see my etchings?”) Or how ‘bout the ultimate Scorpionic character, Dr. Frank-N-Furter in the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Female Scorpios can do the Scorpio overdose as a dominatrix politician, who runs around the party with a ballot box, forcing you to vote for her in the costume contest on penalty of painful consequences, if you dare resist. Then there’s my favorite, a running pun. Dress in black with white body paint or any washable liquid resembling milk splashed all over yourself. (Don’t forget your milk mustache.) Carry a big bowl of shredded wheat and give it manic stabs every few minutes with a butcher knife. Yep, a Cereal Killer.

Sagittarius: Take the Sag love of travel. Add a little Scorpio. Voilà! Come as a travel agent to dark places: any one of several global torture device museums or traveling displays; the creepy, abandoned Alcatraz whose walls still quiver with the bad vibes of its criminal inhabitants past; or kinky sex cruises. (I refuse to provide links. Go Google yourself.) Be sure to have plenty of flyers as take-homes to distribute at this gala. Dress in black with old-fashioned luggage labels plastered on your shirt, advertising your ports of crawl. Or make your get-up look like the typical tourist with a twist: loud Hawaiian shirt in blood red with people-eating plants, à la Little Shop of Horrors, rounded off with a lei of bones.

Capricorn: Given Capricorn’s well-known issues with control, the consummate Halloween job for this executive type playing Scorpio is Inquisitor or chief torturer from the Inquisition. (Get with Sag for details and that museum link for the easiest medieval torture devices you can replicate as props. There are even more gory ones to Google, but my Libra planets can’t bear it.) It’d be good to bring a date whose head and hands are locked in homemade stocks to drag around and threaten. Or you could live on the edge of life and death with your money as a cruel mogul or greedy financier. (Caps do love dough!). How ‘bout plastering money—play or real--all over you, and saying often, “My money? Not on your life.” It could get playfully nasty if someone tries to nab one of your greenbacks.

Aquarius: Scorpio and Aquarius both can be kinky in their own way. Leave it to Aquarius to do Scorpio to the most outrageous degree. Since Aquarius rules electricity, s/he might come as the executioner, ready to place a hood over the other party-goers, then “juice” him with one of those gag buzzer devices, the kind you shock someone with when you shake hands. (You should have at least two, one for each hand to make the shock worth your time.) Anything that gives them a good jolt will do without doing any real harm. Aquarius can camp it up with frizzed hair and a Doctor Death t-shirt. In terms of live astrodrama, s/he could offer frequently throughout the night to put Libra out of her misery.

Pisces: This act must involve drugs—or, at minimum, lots of smoke and mirrors. The first character that comes to mind is The Gypsy Queen from the rock opera, Tommy. (Can’t lose. Substances and music, blending a Pisces theme with a Scorpio character. Whee!) Here are the Tina Turner visuals on the ultimate version! Suggestion: find the biggest, fattest calking syringe at Home Depot (or several) and insert the longest nail you can find on the end. Maybe supplement it with candy “acid.” Carry paraphernalia and fake drugs in a little medicine pouch. Alternatively, if you’re clever and handy enough to execute making an “acid chamber,” as in this video, you’ll win the costume contest, hands and hypodermics down! (Men, it can be a Gypsy King just as easily, barely changing a word of the lyrics. Carry your iPod/ speakers and dance around the party to this diabolically Scorpio ditty, injecting some spirit into it!)

Happy Halloween!

Although my tongue is planted so far into my cheek in this article I’m sure I’ve sprained it (good thing I’m typing not talking), I think there are still some seriously good costume ideas in this Scorpio for a Day (make that Night) Show. Don’t forget to make voting for the best costume part of the party, complete with applause-o-meter! Let me know if you try it. Disclaimer: The Radical Virgo will not be held responsible for any results. Play a Scorpio at your own risk!


Photo credit: Halloween falls... © James Thew |

Want more costume fun? I love Halloween and costumes. For more inspiration, read Incognito: Costumes and Other Cheap Thrills on my other blog, Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

PsychKicks© - Do You Trust Astrology—or Your Gut?

Psych yourself up with like-minded sidekicks by exploring the symbols all around us—together.

Sources of Inspiration

The Lazaris Teachings, life experience

When it comes down to a choice of following astrology or my instincts, my answer isn’t always that simple. It isn’t always the same, either.

For instance, I researched a good electional day and timing to launch The Radical Virgo blog. The stars more than delivered. My new venture was successful out the gate, quickly exceeding the traffic on my other blog, where I had labored for over two years for relatively minimal participation. In no time flat, the volume of visits here on The Radical Virgo was five times those on my first blog.

Like a good astrologer and cosmic soldier, I applied electional principles to my first meeting with my childhood sweetheart when we reconnected after 36 years. I lived in Sacramento; he lived in Dallas. Around Christmas 1996, we knew seeing each other in person was the natural next step—but Mercury Retrograde was coming up. (I joked that he’d better get used to the part the stars play in my scheduling!) Waiting till January 18, 1997 paid off. There was an impressive kite pattern in our “first re-meeting” chart, a Jupiter, Sun and Neptune conjunction—and a Grand Air Trine between Moon, Uranus and Mars. We alternated traveling between our cities four times from January to April. On his final visit in April, he said he wanted to come back to stay. We were married the next year—on another carefully considered electional day, balancing parameters of romance and practicality (two Virgos with Venus in Libra). We wanted to get him on my health benefits before his ran out from his last job.

In 2009, I had another dilemma, speaking of health. I had to have some rather delicate eye surgery. Like most physicians, my ophthalmologist only does surgeries on certain days of the week—in her case, Thursdays. She wanted to do my surgery on July 23. From an electional perspective, it didn’t look so hot. In fact, some of my astrologer friends were downright worried—one in particular, a well-known colleague whose opinion I highly respect. Trouble is, I couldn’t find another Thursday in the foreseeable future that would work any better. Many of them were worse. I wasn’t sure what to do. And it couldn’t be put off indefinitely.

So, I did what I always do when cogitating gets me “know where”. I got quiet, went within, and got a clear answer: I should go for July 23. The more I sat with it, the more my gut instincts said, keep that date.

I grew increasingly more comfortable with my decision, but I was very guarded about sharing what was going on, especially on the public wall. Among people I trusted and told, I insisted that no one send me worried energy or have any vision except an excellent outcome. This was challenging with one of my relatives who tends to gasp and go to the worst place in her mind when any health situation arises. (I can envision the back of her hand on her forehead in the classic melodrama, damsel-in-distress gesture.) “Please don’t do that” in a loving way worked!

Sirius aka: The Big Dog

Once I surrendered to this cognitive dissonance between my belief in astrology and my instincts, the universe rewarded me with a little help from one of my Twitter friends. A devotee of the channeled teachings of Lazaris, she told me in a series of tweets about his teachings regarding the most powerful day of any year—July 23! Since I talked about the lost civilization of Atlantis in the last post, now it’s Lemuria’s turn:

While Lemurians were present in your world, the Lemurian year revolved around Sirius. The first day of the Lemurian year began on what you now call July 23rd with the Rise of Sirius. That is the day when Sirius rises on your horizon just before the Sun. This brilliant light is immediately swamped, swallowed up by the fires of the Sun, yet an opening has begun. The Rise of Sirius begins a 55-day cycle — July 23 to September 15 — when the Vortex is opened and more fully and widely than at other times. The universe is renewed. It is a time of beginning more profound than spring. ~ Lazaris, Vortex of the Goddess: Birth of the Universe 

It calmed my nerves to know that in some system of cosmic thinking my instincts were validated. The surgery was successful; however, in fairness to those who worried about it, there was a complication. With gentle patience and a conservative stance between my doctor and myself to trust it would resolve itself; it did.  All’s well that ends well.

But there’s more. I am going to have to have the same surgery on my left eye soon. What we learned on that procedure is that I have some anatomical challenges that make it tricky. The “Sirius surgery” gave my doctor the knowledge not to do that procedure on me in the future but to do a different one instead.

There’s nothing for me that overrides the guidance system built into our bodies. Instinct and intuitions steers us in the right direction when we learn to listen.

Mark your calendar now for next year’s July 23 opening of the Sirius Vortex. The fixed star Sirius is at 14 Cancer 05. Where does it fit into your chart?

I thought you’d like to know about this potent day of new beginnings. I usually plan something special, and I’d love to hear your Comments about other times you’ve thrown astrological caution to the wind. How did it work out?

In my case, going to the dogs (Dog Star) was a good thing … and at least so far (hold that vision!), he’s not a seeing-eye dog, either.


Photo Credit: Sirius © elartico -; Kids side kicking - keigo1027yasuda @

Related Posts

Your Relationship with Astrology

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Monday, October 2, 2017

PsychKicks ©:Your Cosmic Tractor Beam

Psych yourself up with like-minded sidekicks by exploring the symbols all around us—together.

Source of Inspiration
Life experience, my first teacher/psychic,
growing up Italian

© 2009 - 2017 by Joyce Mason

This offering and some of the soon-to-follow PsychKicks are updated articles from The Radical Virgo. They fit our PsychKicks themes, and that I thought you’d enjoy or re-enjoy them in their newest incarnations.

There is a law of magnetic attraction in the universe where like attracts like. If being positive didn’t simply feel good on its own, this magnetic quality of “good draws good” is the other reason for adopting a permanently upbeat attitude.

I want to take it a step further. Being yourself—authentically you—is one of the most difficult challenges of being human. No man, woman, or child is an island. We need to belong, and the truly happy person has not just friends and family, but community. All these levels of connection are essential to joy.

Yet we so often give parts of ourselves away to meet the energy of others in the middle, like politicians who tone down their stances and beliefs in order to appeal to the most voters. Our blending behavior creates a bigger zone of safety and acceptance in our minds. But does it really?

Holding Back: A Survival Strategy

I feel especially qualified to talk about holding back your true energy or resonance to blend in. I’ve been trained to do it since childhood. I was adopted when I was three weeks old, and my parents were very different from me in a number of essential ways. We just weren’t wired the same. Yet, they were so loving; I didn’t even realize it until I grew up! Mom and Dad made me feel like I truly I belonged, and I was willing to sacrifice some of my individuality for that sweet prize. As I started coming into my own in my twenties, I was stunned to find out that my way of being, based on their programming, was far different from who I really am. My poor mother didn’t know what hit when my move to California, the women’s movement, the ‘70s and my first group therapy experience all conspired to steal her daughter right out from under her—or the one she thought she knew and had molded.

To be fair, my adoptive parents’ differences from me were also a big plus. I am naturally a non-stop thinker—very mental. They were down-to-earth, practical, and totally heart people. My development would have been lopsided, had I grown up in my birth family. My birth mom made my constant cogitation look like child’s play! (I was reunited with my family of origin in my late thirties, and I have a perspective that not many people enjoy of being able to see which parts of me came from nurture rather than nature.)

Still, “not being you” can harm you in the end.

Drawbacks of the Quick-Change Artist

With all my talents for blending in, I had a knack for finding the wrong relationships, whether friends or prospective mates. There was nothing wrong with these individuals—or me. We were just mismatched at an energetic and evolutionary level. I was not putting out who I really am, but rather, morphing myself, like a chameleon, to fit the energy of the people I wanted to please or whose lives I wanted to be a part of. Frankly, I didn’t think there was anyone like me out there! Never having met people on my beam, I didn’t believe they existed.

What I didn’t understand: I could not draw to me anyone like me because I wasn’t being me.

"Banding” Together

Ultimately, I learned that as energy beings, we emit a frequency of our true selves that is like a radio wave. When we’re “on,” being our essential selves, people on the same bandwidth are drawn to us. When we are broadcasting our frequency, others on the same or nearby frequencies pick up on it and hone onto our signal like a tractor beam.

This all happens in the ethers. It’s invisible—you can’t see or hear it while it’s happening—then presto! Some new person pops into your life who’s an obvious member of your soul family. We hear the expression “putting yourself out there.” That’s what it takes to make energy-based matches with like-minded, compatible people. Only it’s not so much a matter of pushing your energy outward. It’s more about being centered in who you are and allowing the universe to draw in the relationships you need.

It’s so human to make the same mistakes over again. If we’re growing, we make them at higher levels, getting the same lesson more clearly each time. I still morph myself—sometimes all but turn myself inside out—to fit in. It often happens unconsciously, when more kindred spirits aren’t available to play or when I don’t know a person or group well enough yet to realize we’re on a different frequency. Then, of course, there are all the many things we can want from someone or a group of some ones that interfere with being in integrity: love, sex, career advancement, fun.

Recently, I became aware that I was being a contortion artist in some relationships and had to reassess my participation. When I decided to let go of what was becoming negative for me, draining, and far from an energetic match, I created the usual void left by surrender.

While I was still making the decision to let go of my latest energetic mismatches, someone literally honed in on me when I returned to my own center and self. Out of the blue, I got an e-mail from a reader of one of my astrology articles that I had written 17 years prior, a perennial favorite. Soon we were e-mailing like mad and could not believe how much we think alike and share the same views of Spirit, the world, and how to live in it. It was simply exhilarating, and a true testimony to why it is so important to be true to yourself. It takes courage and trust. It’s worth it! This “chance” encounter was the catalyst for creating this blog just after Spring Equinox 2009, named after the article that had touched him deeply, “The Radical Virgo.”

Energetic Shift

In the larger sense, the shift we all need to make is to do less and be more. We are called human beings, not human doings. While I know the importance of frequent meditation—how it strengthens our energy field and helps us resonate to our core selves, it took me 40 years to acquire the discipline of doing it. All that time I even tried to “do” when the practice calls for me just to “be” there. Show up, sit in my meditation spot, and close my eyes. What could be simpler? But “human doings” can’t seem to accept that our value is inherent. Too easy? How the human mind loves to complicate things.

If you’re a helper and a person of compassion, my closing thought is for you. It’s an expression I’ve heard about what it is to really help others—and ourselves.

It’s not what you do; it’s who you are.


Photo Credit: 
Kids side kicking - keigo1027yasuda @; BEAM © magann -

Related Post

Works for both young and old: how your cosmic tractor beam helps you draw in relationships. Happy Sun in Libra!

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Monday, September 25, 2017

PsychKicks©: Synchronicity Made Simple

Psych yourself up with like-minded sidekicks by exploring the symbols all around us—together.

Source of Inspiration
Life experience, astrology,
dictionary, psychic

© 2017 by Joyce Mason

In my previous post, Psychic Impressions, I covered the topic of “cosmic repetitions.” These are little scraps of experience or information that repeat themselves in your life, usually three times or more. Once you hit the magic trio number, you’ve probably got a synchronicity on your hands, a meaningful coincidence. So if you still don’t think you’ve got a psychic bone in your body, let’s move from focusing on your bones and whole body to observing and counting those syncs in hand.

You may expect this kind of tuning-in to be more complicated than it actually is. It’s no different than the game many of us played with siblings or cousins on long car rides. Count the number of red cars! In this case, you just look for repetitious occurrences. The best way I can illustrate is to share a recent sync in my own life that held a simple message.

I noticed this summer that in addition to having a therapist named Andrew (Andy), my new plumber was also named Andy. I like them both a great deal. I have been using Insight Timer for content and tracking in my meditation practice. The other day, I also noticed that the two Timer teachers whose meditations I use most are both named Andrew. Hmm. Not just three but four Andrews. All of them involved in making my life better. (Another Andy delivered food to us from Door Dash just after my first draft of this post.)

Being a symbols player, I immediately looked up the meaning of the name. Andrew means manly or masculine. At first I thought how generic. I wondered what that had to do with the price of eggs.

That’s the thing. You can’t stop when the symbolism doesn’t jump up, grab and shake you. You have to contemplate it a little. It didn’t take me long to realize I should ponder what was going on with masculine energy in my own life.

For starters, I should give you the context that I have Mars in Cancer, not the easiest Mars sign to express. (As I heard someone put it, it’s hard to be nurturing and mad at the same time.) That aside, I started thinking about how many Aries women I have for close friends and how I admire their ability to cut through any crap and just do it, whatever it is. My gearshift is often stuck in park while I wade through all the fear and other emotions that come up around what I have to do, especially if it means being very assertive and possibly testy. Talk about the sideways crab walk. My vehicle has a stick shift as in easily stuck.

My Mars has been really tested in the past couple years, and there is more Marsy behavior that I need to assert in the year to come. Thus, the message of all those “masculine” Andys. Now to come to terms with the message and how I can operate more directly. As if giving me that cosmic nod that I got the message, I had a dream about an old love recently. My first spiritual teacher/psychic told me that I dream about this man when I need to assert my masculine side.

So here’s my simple formula for finding and interpreting synchronicities in your own life.

Treat your synchronicities like a Leo Lion
who loves to be noticed.

How to Develop Your Synch Sensitivity
  1. Notice when a topic, name, place, experience—whatever—happens twice. By three times, know there’s usually a message.
  2. If there’s a name or concept involved that you can look up, do a few minutes of research for some dispassionate light on the subject. Or ask a friend or trusted advisor for input.
  3. Once you’ve got a clue from research or your own hunches, sit with it. Meditate on it a little. Write down what you find out.
  4. If there’s something you need to act on, take the final step and shift into drive. Have a good trip.

I hope this helps you hone that synch-ing feeling and to use it for all its worth—usually a lot. We all love to be noticed. Treat your synchronicities like a Leo who loves to be the center of attention, and you’ll be rewarded with loyalty and more fun than you thought this “random” universe had to offer.


Photo Credit: 
Kids side kicking - keigo1027yasuda @; Lion kids hugging - ©jbrown

Related Posts

The Queen of Synchronicity

A New Timepeace: Bending and Mending Time

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Sunday, September 17, 2017

Goddess Save the Queen!

An Autumn Equinox Poem

© 2017 by Joyce Mason

You come on leaves gently blowing
air crisping
grapes ripening
carousel colors streaming
rich shades cavorting
sounds whispering the gestation of snowflakes.

You are sensuous, ripe, bounty.
Your grand entrance, fashionably on time
same time each year
long awaited
a lover returning from the Other Seasons
and the Other Side
too long gone
outshining the other times of year
not meaning to.

Queen Libra, gentle figurehead
of ardor and fairness
grant me sanctuary
for the one month
I feel at home
in the Monarchy of Love, Beauty,
Sweetness and Connection
Balanced by your Golden Scales.
I lean in for the Kiss of Venus.


Photo Credit: © George Mayer -

Sunday, September 10, 2017

PsychKicks© ~ Karma and Reincarnation: The Great Flow Charters in the Sky

Psych yourself up with like-minded sidekicks by exploring the symbols all around us—together.

Source of Inspiration
Life experience, astrology,
metaphysical teachings, past
life regressions

© 2010 - 2017 by Joyce Mason

This offering and some of the soon-to-follow PsychKicks are updated articles from The Radical Virgo and Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights. They fit our PsychKicks themes, and that I thought you’d enjoy or re-enjoy them in their newest incarnations.

I first became involved in metaphysics in 1977. Little did I know then what a red-letter year ’77 would be. On November 1, the planetary body Chiron was discovered. Chiron would ultimately become my specialty as an astrologer, but not until we “met” eleven years later. Among other things, Chiron’s discovery ushered in a focus on ecology, alternative medicine, and an interest in “New Age” spirituality.

Another iconic event that year awakened the consciousness of many people—the release of the first Star Wars movie. There’s nothing like cinema to coincide with and even help create cultural turning points. Suddenly, we were saying, “May the Force be with you,” acknowledging that there was one joining power we could tap into. We were spouting Yoda-isms, words to live by from the tiny green wizened one.

“Luminous beings are we … not this crude matter.” ~ Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

My intro to these subjects came from psychic and meditation teacher Betty Bethards and Unity Church, but my upbringing influenced the way I saw a melting pot of ideas from different religions and traditions. Take karma for example.

While karma has many dimensions, the rough parallel is the biblical, “As ye sow, so shall ye reap.” However, karma adds the idea of reincarnation, that you may be reaping your crop through several lifetimes. This is much more than “God’ll get you for that,” as Maude used to tell her husband Walter on her hilarious spin-off from All in the Family. Karma is about balance, learning both what nourishes us and what doesn’t work—anything that hurts ourselves or others. If we hurt others, we’ll eventually walk a mile in painful shoes. If we don’t love ourselves enough, we’ll taste the bitterness of that path and be given a chance to try the sweet nectar of self-compassion instead.

What Are the Mechanics?

I was one of those overly curious kids who asked my father why so often, he wished he had a why swatter. When I received new information, sometimes before my physical and emotional maturity to handle it, I would always get hung-up on the mechanics. For instance, when I first heard about sex and how people “do it,” I had to get out two of my dolls, imagining the male to have an anatomically correct appendage, and experiment with how the male and female parts might fit together. I didn’t get it. Grown-ups must be acrobats! At least I got points for an inquiring mind.

The same thing happened to me with karma. Once I heard that you often go through many lifetimes with the same cast of characters, repeating similar scenes until you complete your “business,” I had to figure out a way to wrap my brain around something so complicated. Here’s what I came up with as a touchstone for organizing my thoughts around karma and reincarnation.

The Great Flow Charters in the Sky and Magic Marker Music

I first got this idea before social networking and many tools we take for granted nowadays. I envisioned that each person has a team of advisers, a karma committee, to help map out his or her next incarnation for maximum learning. This is esessentially what Betty taught us.

With my Catholic background and being raised by an Italian mama, I saw my committee as handsome young Italian-American men in blue pinstripe suits, sort of a white-collar version of Tony Soprano’s mob family. Only better looking. Only angels. They didn’t make their bones; they made their wings. Bad guys gone good, now rewarded with the important job of helping others settle  their own scores in their multiple lives.

They’re in a “peace room” of sorts, the heavenly version of a war room where strategies are plotted before the plotted arise and are planted on earth again, body and soul together, one more time. They have to figure out how this complex of people will meet up and have all the experiences they need with all the right people from their past karmic strings of events. What a job!

I envision several flip charts. On them, the well-dressed angels are drawing intricate flow charts. Each chart stands for an individual life. Imagine the number of charts in a room in order to dovetail all of a person’s primary encounters with the people who are their sources of “unfinished business.” I can barely conceive of the complexity of this. If I had come lately to these ideas, I’d probably imagine some sort of computer program or phone app. But I’d lose something important with a more modern image. The visual of the flow charts makes obvious what a complex puzzle karma can be. It’s easier to grasp the idea in the visible foreground rather than thinking about how some magic box or program makes it happen offstage.

When my karmic connections and karmic moments happen, my mind hears the squeak of the Magic Markers the Flow Charters use, dancing furiously on those flip charts. I imagine the entangled strategy it took for all the planets to align and the people nudged to get this moment to synch up.

The Mystique of Karma

Karma has a mystique like marriage. I had a great conversation with a friend once concerning what a minefield it is to offer opinions on someone else’s marriage, no matter how close the friendship. What Anne said is both commonsense and profound:

Ultimately, what's between us and our husbands is part of that mysterious alchemy that no other person can ever fully know (including us, some of the time!) 

I dare say, the same goes for karma—or maybe it goes for karma foremost, because what marriage would not be a karmic relationship?

The resonance of karma is what pulls people together. We recognize each other energetically. Astrologer Barbara Hand Clow believes that we retain our same Ascendant in our birth chart lifetime after lifetime. One thing the Ascendant or rising sign has to do with is how we look. In other words, she believes we retain looks similar enough from one incarnation to the next to be recognized by our karmic posse. Even though it’s a radical idea, it feels plausible to me, especially after noticing how often I have been attracted to men with a certain look.

Karmic connections involve strong magnetism and a sense of rediscovery. It’s like when you haven’t seen an old friend for years, and you pick right up where you left off. Only you don’t consciously “know” this person yet in this lifetime, so you can’t understand why it feels that way using “normal” logic.

Details Please! Past Life Regression

I’ve had several past live regressions, a form of self-exploration that I would recommend that you try only with a trusted practitioner by way of a personal referral. I learned amazing things, including my role as an astrologer in Atlantis and how much trouble it got me into. It explains why I’ve had an approach-avoidance conflict with reclaiming that vocation in my current lifetime.

I know that my husband, Tim, was also my husband in Atlantis. He took care of me when I was disabled, and now I am returning the favor in helping him navigate his health issues and disability in our current life.

“Much to learn you still have…my old padawan. This is just the beginning!” – Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

But What If You Don’t Believe in Reincarnation?

You don’t have to believe in reincarnation for this concept to work. In today’s world, life is so fast and jam-packed with experiences, we live what’s tantamount to numerous lifetimes in a single incarnation. Non-believers might even be more proficient in resolving karma, thinking this lifetime is “it” and all the time they have to work out their relationships.

Completing circles—that’s what it’s all about. Balancing the favors, grievances, love, good and bad feelings and coming to a higher understanding of the essence of each individual on your Great Flow Chart in the Sky, especially yourself.

And, of course, you can see a lot of your karmic story in the ultimate cosmic flow chart of your horoscope, especially when you start comparing yours with others' in your karmic cluster. Some types of astrology such as evolutionary astrology focus on this aspect of birth charts and the Moon's nodes role in the past-life and karmic picture.

I don’t know what is the sound of one hand clapping, but I do love the sound of one marker squeaking.


Photo Credit: Kids side kicking - keigo1027yasuda @; Whiteboard – Tuulijumala @

Related post: Astrology and Past Lives by Lana Wooster

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Thursday, August 31, 2017

Short Shrift: The Season Summer and the Sign Virgo

© 2017 by Joyce Mason

In the Northern Hemisphere, summer ends early in most people’s minds, either on Labor Day (first Monday of September) or when school starts, whichever comes first (nowadays highly varied by locale). In fact, until I studied astrology, I considered myself to be born in autumn. Only then did I learn my exact chart and the difference between 29 Virgo and 1 Libra—the fact that I had a very late summer birth (8 hours from the cusp).

What does this shortened sign and season mean symbolically? Opening thoughts as I started to think about it this morning:

I consider the purest essences of the Summer Signs to be Cancer – nurture and family; Leo—shining of self; and Virgo—serving others. In a perfect world, this sector of the zodiac gives us the loving foundation ultimately to shine ourselves, and then to go on to give back. When we cut summer short, we are truncating Virgo and the season of service, not to mention digestion. I’m not sure we leave enough space to “digest” those summer activities, some of which can be deeply transformative like summer romances, before we’re jumping headlong into fall, skipping up to a third of Virgo. 

I believe we have a subconscious tendency to match our activities with the seasons. Summer is full of family picnics and swimming in the Cancer element water. The family gatherings peak on the 4th of July in the USA, birthday of our bigger family, country. During Leo we catch even more sun on top of our new tans and go on adventures or participate in fiery sports events. Come Virgo, we are usually fixated on summer’s end (wah!) and getting the kids reoriented. Even if you don’t have schoolchildren, Labor Day brings the sobering realization that vacations and play time are over. It’s time to get back to work or school. It’s a psychological adjustment, and it seems to occupy us till the real summer ends at Autumn Equinox. At least the beginning of school matches Virgo’s well known mental pursuits—and maybe her picky planning given all those pencils, books and educational paraphernalia there is to buy.

I think we lose something being focused on these mundane events and how they interrupt the late summer’s Virgoan flow. And I think there’s a solution for overcoming it. Some thoughts:

Set aside 3-5 days, sometime after Labor Day and before Autumn Equinox, to tend to your inner Virgo. (We all have Virgo somewhere in our charts, even if only by house placement.) Think of it as a personal Mercury Retrograde with lots of review and reconsideration:
  •     Review your diet for any changes you might need, especially your digestion and how various foods make you feel after eating them.
  •     What’s the state of your charitable giving, whether financial contributions or volunteer work?
  •     When it comes to “doing for others,” are you doing enough or overdoing? (See The Converse Golden Rule.) Are you suffering from compassion fatigue?
  •     How are you feeding your mind? Set goals for new habits if changes are needed. Meditation and yoga are superb for integrating body, mind and spirit.
  •     How is your health and how are your health providers? On my checklist is getting a second opinion on an upcoming surgery.
  •     How are your small animals? How is your relationship, their health?

These are just a few ideas for celebrating Virgo rather than shorting her. I’m sure you can come up with many more.

I’d love to hear from people in the Southern Hemisphere to find out if you have any challenges in glossing over any sign with your flipped seasons.

And thanks for any thoughts you have on giving Virgo her due.

Photo Credit: © meon04 –

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Related Posts:

The Summer Signs

The Signs Do Summer--in Pictures