Showing posts with label Chiron and shamanism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chiron and shamanism. Show all posts

Monday, June 21, 2010

Chiron and Vocation: Do What You Love and Wholeness Will Follow



© 2010 by Joyce Mason
All Rights Reserved



This is the thing that I was born to do.

~ Samuel Daniel


The Chiron myth suggests that astrological Chiron has influence over many areas of life—and much more than a chosen profession. Chiron is that force inside you that hones a multitude of skills to prepare you to perform, for the rest of society, that special thing that only you can do. Your unique skills and style of delivery are needed in a certain time/space continuum. One aspect of Chiron insists that you do what you love or suffer an incurable longing for lack of doing it.


Wage Slaves and the Price of Postponing Your “Real” Work in the World

Most of us have had experience with this pain. I began to realize it the first time I heard the term “wage slave.” For most of my 31-year civil service career, I really wanted to do something else. The lure of a steady paycheck and the kind of benefits you no longer even hear of—these things kept my nose to the grindstone for the long haul. For my spirit to survive, however, I had to do what I loved—on top of it. I multi-tasked and spent many of those years doing at least two jobs, working as an astrologer and writer on the side. Those of a certain age will understand my metaphor: I was a one-woman Ed Sullivan Show, riding my unicycle and spinning plates on long rods with both hands, while balancing a ball on the end of my nose.

Eventually, once I added marriage and the weight of a number of personal losses to my spinning plates, I needed to let go of my side jobs and take a time-out for the sake of my health and well-being. I continued to suffer for not having the financial moxie or risk-taking capacity to make the full leap into doing what I loved. The concept behind book title, “Do What You Love and the Money Will Follow” became a bitter cliché. (Sure, in how many years while I starve in the meantime?) For me, the more right-on title would be the title of this article, do what you love and wholeness will follow.

Chironic Counsel

In a perfect world, this would have never happened to me—or you. We would have had a Chiron who assessed our talents, skills and gifts, as mythical Chiron did with his heroes in the making on Mt. Pelion. He would then proceed to give us whatever training we needed to actualize ourselves. There would never have been a moment of putting a round peg into a square hole or a writer into the cubicle/box of a government analyst. We would have been honed from adolescence to be our best selves and to contribute our unique gifts. We would have been fed, clothed, and housed equally, no matter what role we would play once we matured. I’m not sure to whom in society I’d assign this Chironic role in a modern context. It’s probably too “Native American” for most high school guidance counselors, but whoever is the shaman or wise one in a kid’s life—that’s a good place to start. It has more to do with how they see themselves, their heart (what they love) and their unique perspective on living. It probably has little to do with college entrance exam scores. Here’s to a day when making money and making a difference in our own inimitable way are easily one.


"The talent given to you and me, we must develop faithfully—so we can be good Mousketeers!" ~The Original Mickey Mouse Club theme song

The Gift in the Wound

I talk often about how the Chironic wound contains all the gifts we’ll ever need to be fulfilled. In addition to whatever else it holds, our natal Chiron sets up a series of theme-related pains and projects to keep honing the gift of the rare gem inside us that is our authentic self. Whether or not we want to admit it, we sometimes choose the pain. Something inside us knows we need its gifts.

My utopian, “every kid has his Chiron” fantasy, is not how it works for many, if not most people. My biggest regret: That I didn’t do whatever it took to start my adult life as a writer instead of having to beg scraps of my own time to become one by the slow boat of work on the side, decade after decade.

Now I’m retired from my government job, and it’s all coming together for me. I feel like myself for the first time in my life. Bringing the disparate parts of a person back together sounds remarkably like the shaman’s role that many people so clearly see mythical Chiron playing. There were things I learned being a social worker, a government analyst, and all the other roles I played—things I needed to have for wholeness. I needed those jobs to have the content, depth, and experience to write and “read” astrology charts in a soulful way.

I’m old enough to have gone through my midlife transits, Chiron Return and many of the major astrological initiations, including my second Saturn Return. At times along the way, I got glimmers that Do What You Love Deprivation might actually be a curriculum that ultimately ends in becoming the hero of your own life—and heroic in contributing your special something to the world.


What you need for yourself is exactly what others need from you.

Before we get there, each of us is a shaman being torn apart, sometimes by competing realities like making a living and living our true vocation. Before we’re put back together again, in the underworld, it feels like hell—because it is. Being pulled apart that way is akin to being drawn and quartered.

When you’re on your own Chironic journey, looking to find truth, examine what makes you angry. One of the things I cannot abide from my Catholic roots is how, as a kid, people in my home religion talked about priests and nuns getting “a vocation” or the calling to religious life. The word vocation is used only in this context, as if the only calling on earth were the seminary or joining a religious order. Ire rising cued me into how important vocation really is to everyone. No one has a copyright on vocation. It’s as essential to fulfillment as breathing. Most of us need more vacations, but we cannot fulfill ourselves without one good vocation.


Summer Solstice may seem an odd time to write about vocation, but it’s actually perfect. Vocation is something you enjoy doing so much, it feels like play. While you’re out having fun this summer, you might just stumble over your vocation.

If you doubt you’ve found your true vocation, ask yourself from a totally centered place, to fill in the blank: “I am a _____.” My answer has been writer since before I knew the question. Vocation does not necessarily equate to job. Your vocation could be mother, friend, confidant, or life of the party.

I am lucky that despite all my side roads to “make a living,” I still stayed on course with my essential vocation. I used those side trips to hone my craft. I wrote extensively in every job. Chiron tells you something about your vocation, and you begin to become whole when you live and breathe that essential part of yourself. You need it, and your tribe (society) needs it. It’s your calling.


How Will I Come Together?

This think piece offers no simple answers, only an opportunity to explore deeply one area of Chiron’s influence.

Ask yourself these questions about Chiron in your chart: (My own answers are in parentheses for examples)


Chiron’s House – It will tell you about the subject of your vocation (6th/ writing, healing, service)

Chiron’s sign – Style of vocation (Scorpio/drama, depth, mysteries of life)

Chiron aspects – How easy or difficult it is to express your vocation (square Pluto, sextile Moon)


If you’re looking for that Chironic skeleton key to unlock the secrets of your own vocation, remember to look at the path of least resistance when you explore your aspects to Chiron. If you have a trine or sextile or another easy-flow aspect, take a look at what it might have to tell you about getting to vocational wholeness. We are so used to doing things the hard way; we sometimes forget that there are hints in our charts for shortcuts, too.

When Chiron was relieved of his immortality and suffering for an act of self-sacrifice, he was raised to the heavens in a constellation—a group of stars. Helping others and finding our place in a group is the world put right. It’s the happy ending we all crave. There’s no more important fit than how we fit in.

Lastly, when contemplating Chiron’s message and your vocational path, don’t forget those things you said as a kid that you wanted to be—or do—when you grew up. Mine are embarrassing to write down, but here they are. I wanted to save the world (I actually said that out loud as a college freshman!), and I wanted to make people happy.

As a writer, I have the capacity to do both of those things in my own way as I twinkle my distinctive light in the constellation of my community, now as big as the planet, thanks to the Internet. You’re grown up now, too. You have the same capacity share those visions of who you are and what you have to offer. They were conceived from your childhood innocence, the home of great truths. And it doesn’t matter whether your vocation is butcher, baker or astrology maker.

~~~

Photo Credit: PUZZLE TOGETHER © Eric1513 | Dreamstime.com

Thanks to Zane Stein for first publication of this article on his wonderful website, Chiron and Friends. If you’re interested in Chiron and the centaurs, bookmark Zane’s site and visit often.

Summer Solstice Shares

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Chiron: The Shaman Centaur















© 2009 by Larry Williamson, Guest Blogger

Centaurus is one of two constellations said to represent the centaurs, mythical creatures with a human head and torso on top of a horse’s body. Centaurus was the name of the first centaur. The constellation Centaurus is primarily associated with Chiron, a wise, immortal being who was the King of the Centaurs. He was renowned for his healing skills and a wise teacher and mentor.

Chiron was the Son of Chronos (Saturn), ruler of the vanished golden age, where men lived in harmony with nature. His mother was the nymph Philyra, whose name means both “the love of music of the lyre” and “sweet-scented linden tree." Philyra gave birth to Chiron, was horrified by his appearance, and abandoned him. Chiron’s initial wound was the rejection and abandonment by his mother.

Apollo, the Sun God and Diana, Goddess of the Moon became Chiron’s foster parents—and along with the wild animals, his family. Chiron would become their first pupil and, in turn, he would teach humankind. Apollo and Diana taught him the art of healing, medicine, science, music, war, archery and all survival skills. All the greatest kings and heroes were taken to him as children to be raised in his cave. Some of his students were Jason, Achilles, and Hercules. Chiron taught Orpheus, the great musician, how to play the lyre in a way that made trees weep and rocks melt. He taught Asclepius, god of healing, the arts of healing and medicine.

Chiron’s healing powers were so great, it has been said that he cured those who suffered mortal wounds during the Trojan wars. Below Chiron’s cave lies a sacred valley where he grew powerful medicinal herbs, which he shared with his pupils, along with how to turn them into salves and potions. Chiron was the only centaur able to maintain his higher self. The centaurs were known for their rude, drunken and rowdy behavior, but Chiron was above the fray.

But, unfortunately, Chiron was not above harm. A stray arrow from the bow of Hercules accidentally wounded Chiron. The accident occurred during a wedding feast near Chiron’s cave. Pholus was the keeper of the jar of wine that belonged to the centaurs. He had been had been told not to open the jar. However, when Hercules arrived, he coaxed a reluctant Pholus into opening it, stating that the jar had been placed there generations ago waiting for his arrival. When Pholus opened the cask of wine as Hercules requested, the wild centaurs could smell the aroma from miles away. They sped to the scene, drank all the wine, went berserk, and tried to rape the bride. All mayhem broke out and Hercules tried to stop them. Elatus is the centaur associated with the woodlands and his name means “Fir Man,” because he used to pull up whole fir trees and use them as weapons. Elatus was killed by one of the poisoned arrows of Hercules, dipped in the blood of the many-headed Hydra, a poison from which there was no cure. This same arrow from the bow of Hercules passed through Elatus’s arm and continued its path to wound Chiron in the knee.

Hercules ran to him, pulled out the arrow and dressed the wound with a salve Chiron handed to him. Because the wound was incurable, Chiron moved to his cave yearning for death, but could not die because he was immortal. Ultimately, he passed on his immortality to Prometheus. Zeus saw what a grand and noble gesture this was, and then placed Chiron amongst the stars. In another version of the myth, Chiron offers to trade places with Prometheus who was chained to a rock for all eternity because he discovered fire—or as gods saw it, stole fire from them. Prometheus’s liver was being pecked out nightly as punishment, growing back each day for his vicious cycle of suffering. Since he was suffering himself without let-up, anyway, Chiron offered to take Prometheus's place. Both versions have the same ending. Zeus recognizes Chiron’s altruism, releases him from the bonds of his immortality, and raises him up in a constellation of stars.

In some versions of the story, in spite of his own pain and suffering, Chiron continued to help, heal and serve others. The term Wounded Healer seems to have emerged from this aspect of the myth. Others claim Chiron cured his wounds with the plant Centaury, the sacred herb of the centaurs, and never died. The best definition I ever heard of the Wounded Healer is “the ability to do things for others that we cannot necessarily do for ourselves.”

The kicker of the story is once Chiron was transformed into a constellation, it was not the archer centaur (Sagittarius) but actually the shaman centaur (Centaurus). The brilliant shamanic astrologer Daniel Giamario revealed this to me during an interview. Here the Shaman Centaur is dancing with a She-Wolf (Lupus) holding not a lance, or spear, but a magical and sexual Thyrsus, a staff of wild fennel topped by a pine cone, held by the centaurs. There is a region below the southern ecliptic including, Centaurus, the Shaman Centaur, the original constellation of Chiron. This area of the sky was far more elevated in the southern sky, and due to the precession of the equinoxes, it was all but lost to view in northern latitudes. Because the ancients Greeks couldn’t see the constellation Centaurus, they transferred it into the centaur of the archer, Sagittarius.

Before Chiron was discovered, astrologer Dane Rudhyar predicted there would be a new planetary body found between Saturn and Uranus that would act like a higher Moon. This is interesting, as both, Apollo and Diana, Goddess of the Moon, raised Chiron. One of the greatest paradoxes about Chiron astrologically is in our wounding lies the key to our healing, and it all has to do with feelings and emotions. All healing needs to begin with emotional healing.

This same paradox applies from an astrological interpretive point of view. Wherever Chiron is placed in the natal chart points to an area of possible woundedness, but it also indicates the area in which we can awaken the healing process for ourselves, and how we can best help, heal, and serve others towards integration and transformation. One of the first steps to accelerate the healing process is to “own our wounds.” You can’t change or transform anything you’re denying. Chiron, like Pluto, can serve as a powerful attachment breaker. “De-nial” isn’t just a river in Egypt!

Many astronomers believe Chiron is not an original member of our solar system, but rather came from outside it as a maverick, temporary visitor. They believe, in time, that Chiron will eventually leave. This is a symbolic parallel to the idea of the Bodhisattvas, who voluntarily return to the world of suffering to help assist others on the path of enlightenment. This clearly serves as a powerful metaphor of the Chironic themes of healing, helping and serving others.

It is this astrologer’s humble opinion that the connection between Chiron and Virgo seems clear. Both are associated with healing and service.

The humanistic astrologer Dane Rudhyar states that the trans-Saturnian planets owe allegiance to the galaxy, not the Sun! The former seems to imply “outside help,” the latter relates to “inner work,” or the power of change, transformation inherent in each of us. I feel it is incumbent for all astrologers not to become locked in or fixed solely on the principle of wounding with Chiron, but to cultivate and celebrate the teaching, mentoring, and meaningful service function. We all need someone in our lives at times to serve as a teacher, mentor and act as a bridge between two worlds.

Finally, let us honor our Inner Shaman, inner Teacher to help guide us on our journey towards healing, reconciliation and wholeness. The next time you need healing, go and heal someone else, and ask where have I failed to give? Out of the place of our wounds, will come our greatest gifts.

~~~


Laurence Williamson is a practicing astrologer with over thirty years' experience. While maintaining his steady practice, Larry served as the resident astrologer for Sagittarius Books store for over six years. He also teaches classes in astrology and mythology. Listen to Larry's New Moon Podcast at his Skybear Astrology website. Contact him at skybear2@juno.com.

Photo Credit: CEREMONY OF THE SHAMANIrbis769 |Dreamstime.com

References

Catherine Tennant – The Lost Zodiac

Tim Lyons - Astrology Beyond Ego

Daniel Giamario – Reflections on being 52



COMMENT CONTEST WINNER!  Congratulations to Sandra Moseley, second and final winner in our Mercury Direct Comment Contest. Sandra is an astrologer and Radical Virgo. Sandra and husband David Mosely have a wonderful website, Zodiac Arts, a visual feast and delightful to visit! Sandra has won a free copy of Joyce Mason's new e-book,  Chiron and Wholeness: A Primer.