Ripe

An Autumn Equinox Poem

© 2022 by Joyce Mason

 

I fall off the tree

full of myself

so ripe my essence overflows

oozes back to Earth.

I cannot dam my seeping vitality.

I am the chasing arrows of cosmic creation.

 

I am fullness bearing my own fruit.

I am the autumn of my life,

the autumn of every life cycle,

I am the juice of my own potential.

I will not miss this bloated moment,

fullness over-the-top.

To miss it is to rot,

to cycle without harvest

to stifle everything I can be:

a magical explosion of me-a-tivity.

 

~~~

Photo  Credit: © Raul Garcia Herrera - Dreamstime.com

A Taste of Autumn 2020

Poem © 2020 by Joyce Mason

 

Choking on the smoke of environmental backlash,

I smell autumn beyond the notes of ash and human misery.

A nascent fall breeze sneaks into late summer to say hello.

 

My toes curl at the prospect of clean air blowing dried leaves

in eye-candy colors.

My heart skips a beat as childhood adages ride the wind.

“All good things come to an end.”

All bad things, too.

 

We sit on Libra’s Scales of Balance savoring a tiny appetizer of tomorrow.

Autumn, the Season of Fruition lets go everywhere in Technicolor and Panavision as we must for new winters, springs and summers to recur; their lessons from both beauty and tragedy to revive and rebuild us once more for another thrilling ride on the Roller Coaster known as the Wheel of Life.

 

~~~

Photo Credits:  Autumn Wheel © Kaedeenari | Dreamstime.com; Libra Scales © Tatianakost | Dreamstime.com.

Radical Reposts: The Planets – Sun

Let’s start our year of reposts by topic in the usual way we speak in astrological sentences—by planet, sign and house. (I’d normally say, for instance, that I have Sun in Virgo in the 5^th House or Moon in Capricorn in the 9th.) Given that natural order of astrological conversation, I’ll start this blog bibliography (blogography) with anything I’ve ever posted on the planets, signs and houses in that order. Later we’ll get fancier with aspects, aspect configurations and the multitude of other topics covered here over six years.

Numerous posts are about all 12 Sun signs, comparatively. I’ll put those in a separate recap when we get to signs, because they cover much ground about the entire zodiac. Many of those offerings are humorous. This first grouping will be more specific to exploring your Sun in particular—not emphasizing how it relates to the other Sun signs.

While some posts recapped are specific to a year or timeframe, I have listed those with at least some generic information about the Sun or Sun in a specific sign within the article, poem or post.

Generic Planets

What Planet Are You From? (30-Aug-09)

A tour of the planets to reassess your resonance and determine which planets influence you most.

Who Would Play Your Planets? (20-Jul-09)

A new way to envision your chart by assigning famous people the roles of Sun, Moon, Mercury, etc.

 Generic Sun

And the Sun Stood Still  (17-Dec-13)

A Winter Solstice poem about the power of the Sun’s “putting on the brakes” to herald the introspective time of year. What do we do when the Sun goes down?

Summer Solstice: “Let the Sunshine In”  (13-Jun-09)

The Sun and Summer Solstice. Summer is primarily a celebration of the signs Cancer and Leo. American schools may get out in Gemini and go back in Virgo (so appropriate as the Mercury-ruled mental signs), but most vacations and the bulk of summer occur when the Sun is in Mom and Dad. That’s right! Mom and Dad.

Sunny Side Up!

 These articles help you explore your Sun or explore the Sun in a particular sign.

Explore Your Sun

Planetary Fishing: The Sun  (1-May-13)

Welcome to our first planetary fishing expedition! Today we'll examine the Sun in the sky—and the Sun in your chart—more deeply.

Starstuck: Overcoming Performance Anxiety (15-Aug-11)

Leo, ruled by the Sun, tells us performing has something to do with fire—with being stoked. How the Sun and the 5^th House play into performance anxiety with practical suggestions for overcoming it.

Your Solar Return and Solar Return Meditation (7-Jun-09)

Once a year, the transiting Sun returns to the exact same position it held in the sky at the moment of your birth. This happens at a different moment each year, within a day or two of your birthday. This fun-omenon is known as your Solar Return. A guide for harnessing your Solar energy!

Sun in Specific Sun Signs or Sun Sign Archetypes

Aries

Aries Auntie: Learning Astrology through Children (31-Mar-14)

What I learned about astrology from observing my Aries niece and nephew—and how children often are the best teachers about astrological archetypes.

“God is Not an Aries” (26-Mar-09)

A tongue-in-cheek editorial on why God cannot possibly be an Aries. For starters, the answers to our prayers and most manifestations take much longer than an Aries would wait. Unfortunately, most of us are pretty “Aries,” Aries or not.

Cancer, Leo and Virgo

The Summer Signs (6-Jun-14)

Revisiting the trio of signs that make up any season helps understand the quarter of the year we’re entering and how to make the most of it. Welcome to the cusp of summer—winter’s complement and the extroverted time of year.

Virgo

Virgos of the World UNITE! Get Radical (21-Mar-09) The Radical Virgo blog launch post. The vision behind The Radical Virgo and why you don’t have to be a Virgo to play in this sandbox made of star-stuff.

The Radical Virgo (11-May-09)

A reprint of my article after which this blog was named, first published in The Mountain Astrologer in 1992. The response to my new vision of Virgo has been overwhelmingly positive and timeless. If you have any planet in Virgo, here’s the reason to get radical—or to the root (what “radical” means) of your Virgoness. Even if you have none, find out why the world needs the sign of Virgo more than ever—now!

The Radical Virgo Revisited (13-Sep-13)

An updated expansion of the original article, “The Radical Virgo,” with a focus on information synthesis and global service. When I speak of a Radical Virgo, I mean the word radical in these dictionary senses, the Virgo energy carried (1) to the utmost limit, extreme; or a Virgo known for (2) favoring or effecting evolutionary or revolutionary changes. I want to add to this definition, (3) A Virgo who expresses the very root of the Virgo archetype, because radical also means root.

The Virgin Myths (11-Sep-13)

Exploring the rich mythology of Virgo, “a nurturing mother to all the earth.” How the Virgo Maria and these archetypal maidens round out our understanding of the V-sign: Demeter/Ceres, Dike, Astrea and Erigone.

Wordgo: The Virgo Way with Words (25-Apr-09)

Why are Virgos in love with words? For years, I have used the Celestial Influences astrological calendars. There is a two-word affirmation for each sign every month. The I-statement for Virgo is “I Analyze.” That job would be really difficult to do without words—lots of them!

September: Old Home Month on The Radical Virgo (1-Sep-13)

Prelude to exploring the sign of Virgo and the cusp of autumn in some of the articles, above.

Libra

While this article isn’t about Libra per se, it’s about one of the major Libran concerns—relationship.

Finding Love in Later Live—or Whenever Venus is in the Neighborhood (15-Oct-13)

All the wisdom this Venus in Libra has accumulated in many years of a complex love life, written at the request of a reader, full of tools on how to manifest your relationship … even how to help romantic issues through the use of flower essences.

Scorpio

Scorpio for a Day (26-Oct-09)

This popular Halloween post is much more than a laugh-a-minute and a virtual costume party. You’ll learn more about Scorpio than you ever wanted to know by seeing how all the other signs dress up and act like one!

  

Sagittarius

Jumpin’ Jupiter! Happy Thanksgiving (23-Nov-09)

No holiday could be more “Jupiter” than the typical American Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving in the USA is perfectly placed when the Sun is in Sagittarius, ruled by Jupiter—the pre-game warm-up to the most Jupiterian of all holidays, Christmas. Holy Sag! It’s your time of year.

Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces

The Winter Signs (30-Dec-12)

A quiet contemplation of Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces. Exploring the introverted time of year, as well as introverts and extroverts, the Myers-Briggs Personality inventory, and the gifts of being an “innie” and the inward time of year.

Stillness: Our Retrograde Winter 2014 (2-Jan-14)

Winter starts with Capricorn. Cap sways to rhythm of Saturn, the planet that rules time itself. Winter forces us to face: the sand keeps running in our hourglass. All those questions about fulfillment are more poignant, indeed more urgent, when there’s more sand on the bottom than the top. The gifts of winter and retrogrades revealed.

Aquarius

 

The Chart of HAIR ~ Why We Should Care (14-Oct-10) .

“This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius!” —From Hair by Gerome Ragni and James Rado. Have you noticed? The peace sign is back—and not just on The Radical Virgo logo. The peace sign celebrated its 50th anniversary and Chiron Return in 2008, the same year as the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. The psychedelic movement has weathered its midlife transits!

The Astrology of Independence (2-Jul-14)

Often cited as the archetypal independent sign, Aquarius is often too busy with issues of society to get too close to individuals. Not to mention, with Uranus as its ruler, Aquarius is about as predictable and constant in relationships as lightning in a summer storm. Changeability is deeply woven into the Aquarian nature, and like Sag, Aquarius does not like fences or “shoulds.” On the other hand, when Aquarius—or any of the more independent signs—is there because he or she wants to be and isn’t pressured to commit until ready, Aquarius can ultimately thrive in relationship and learn to relish interdependence.

Pisces

A Prescription for Planets in Pisces: SoulCollage® Your Natal Chart

(7-Mar-11)

Would you like to increase your understanding of how the astrological archetypes express themselves in your life? The abundance of planetary activity currently in Pisces suggests you might find your answer by creating a set of SoulCollage® cards based on your natal chart. This may appeal to people with natal planets in Pisces or other “artsy”Astro-signatures. It’s like a personal Astro-tarot deck.

Mercury Retrograde Stellium in Pisces, Void Moon (26-Feb-13)

A poem of a near-drowning experience in the Pisces archetype. It starts:  So quiet on the Western front. I hear the ear-splitting echoes of my own thinking.

Late Pisces

The Tail of the Fish (13-Mar-13)

Explore the late degrees of Pisces. In a previous article, The Winter Signs, I referred to the Sun's sojourn in Pisces as “the dark of the Sun,” parallel to the “dark of the Moon.” This refers especially to the last days before the Sun cycle starts over. It's a sacred threshold.

~~~

Photo Credit: © Jut - Fotolia.com

Radical Recommendation: Revisit The Top 10 Posts of All Time!

High Signs 2: Living on the Upside of the Zodiac

Leo through Scorpio

© 2009 by Joyce Mason

In Part 1 of High Signs, we covered Aries through Cancer. The purpose of this three-part article series is to identify some of the best ways to express each of the twelve signs in our charts and lives. As I explored the signs with this goal in mind, a natural process of inner evolution became obvious in the 12-stage cycle of the zodiac. I also began to notice key issues that, when resolved, unlock a higher expression of each sign.

To recap, the initial third of the zodiac wheel represents the following aspects of inner growth process:

~ Conception in Aries
~ Rooting in Taurus
~ Growing conditions in Gemini
~ Protection of seedlings in Cancer

Now we move onto the next third of the cycle from Leo through Scorpio—into the blooming, harvesting, and sharing phases of our growth process.

Leo – Don’t Just Catch the Rays; Channel Them

The sign of Leo brings the process of individuation to its exciting first bloom. “Look at me!” Leo says, as he exudes the rays of the Sun and selfhood with no Ray-Bans or sunscreen. It’s a sight to behold; a once drab and scrawny seedling has grown up. It has burst into vibrant color and first flower, reverberating the very Sun that helped make it so.

Here is both the danger and the cure. Leo must avoid believing she is the Sun itself with all its power—and around which the rest of us mere earthlings are lucky to revolve, if she deems us worthy. Creative spark is the ultimate drug, and if Leos hold onto the Sun energy with possessiveness, they become mean kings of the jungle: self-centered, proud, overbearing, bossy, intimidating, grandiose, and demanding of constant flattery (kiss my ring or whatever!).

To be the self-expressive, generous, vital, playful, childlike Lion to whom the rest of us don’t mind giving center stage much of the time, Leos have to let go. I know it’s a fixed sign. If you can resist so well, you can turn it around and resist doing what harms you. You can’t hold the Sun. You’ll get burned. And by the way, letting sunshine flow through you is like a fabulous energy-recycling loop. The more you let the sun come through you without clutching it, the more others beam back your solar energy, recharging your batteries and sense of connection to the sun in the sky. (If we could bottle the beams from all Leos in the world, there would never be an energy crisis. One of my favorite Leos always says she’s sending me “sparkles.” They truly energize!)

Leo brings the inner growth cycle to first bloom, the one that’s most impressive in contrast to the previous stages of seed, seedlings and budding. Leo assures us there’s been a whole lot of energetic shakin’ goin’ on beneath the surface, and now you can see it in living color.

Virgo – Bloomin’ Complete (Well, Almost … )

If Leo is the first bloom of the flower of inner growth, Virgo takes the bloom to fullness and the edge of harvest. Perhaps the Virgo obsession with perfection comes from an innate sense of this “last chance” before the flower is picked, the grain is harvested—choose your favorite plant allusion—and his true usefulness falls into the hands of others in the second half of the zodiac from Libra onward.

Virgo is the last chance for self-possession. (See The Radical Virgo and Wholeness and the Inner Marriage.) If some of the Virgos you know seem a little control freakish to you at times, they are simply worried that the growing season ends and soon the harvest will be upon us. Virgo is the sign of late summer. Virgos see all they could be—and want it!

To express Virgo in a higher way, the Virgin flower has to tune back into life’s cyclical nature with a view from the mountaintop. You don’t get just one season or one lifetime to become the best you. You get seasons and lifetimes. Don’t make everyone miserable with nitpicky perfectionism, faultfinding, and slavery to jobs or service in an “off” attempt to grasp the usefulness of your Self that you fear you will lose control of, starting in Libra. Helping others is Virgo’s prescience of the next season and sign, but unless you are also blooming your Self, you will have defeated your purpose to be the best you—this time around.

Leo brings the inner growth cycle to first bloom; Virgo completes the blooming before harvest.


Libra –Beauty and the Bounty, Share But Eat Something Yourself First

At the Autumn Equinox, when the sign of Libra starts, we begin the process of sharing the wealth of the inner growth process. No man is an island, and once a person has fully bloomed the Self in Virgo, it is time to share the bounty with another in Libra.

The wheat, grain, or flowers are weighed on Libra’s scales of balance. She hopes for beauty, harmony, justice, and pleasure from her interactions, the fruits of others’ growing. If it starts with “co,” she’s “in”—cooperate, coexist, codepend.

Therein lies the rub, a sign so focused on harvesting others’ gifts, he often forgets who he is. Dependence on approval and the need to partner in all things leads to imbalance, indecisiveness (what will she think?), fawning behavior, and a rash of inconsistencies that can be maddening to the other he is trying not to alienate. Too often, he succeeds just the same. A Libra out of balance is a scary thing.

How to avoid tipping the scales? One plus one equals two. You can’t co-create without maintaining the individuality that is part of the 1+1 = 2 equation. Libra easily falls prey to the misconception that she can rest on her inner growth laurels and coast, now that two have become one. Mergers must create synergy to survive and thrive. This does not occur when Self is absorbed into Other, but rather when two selves interact and create a constant growth dynamic. I suspect the legendary Libra laziness is merely this misconception. If you love relationship as much as you claim, Libra, don’t forget to bring your Self forward—the previous lesson of Virgo. Then Us will rock in a whole new way, where pairing is a preference and vibrant, not a fix.

Inner growth cycle recap: Leo brings the inner growth cycle to first bloom; Virgo completes the blooming before harvest. Libra harvests and shares the beauty and bounty of the inner growth crop.

Scorpio – Chemistry Experiments, But Don’t Blow Up the Lab

Like Libra, Scorpio is an autumnal and “other” sign, one of deep merger and mining the mysteries of life. Scorpio doesn’t take the blooms of others just at face value. She finds out how to mix them up in her chemistry lab to create new by-products, often explosions that run the gamut of pain and pleasure. Then, she might even transmute them into gold.

Scorpio seeks to merge and meld into the other’s experience to see how it can transform them both. It is the alchemical mixing of two selves into Love Potion #9—or whatever happens to come out of the mix.

Much like Leo’s Sun fix, this is potent energy—pure power formed in dark places and so electrifying and life-creating, possessiveness and compulsiveness can take over like a bad spell. The image that comes to mind is Dr. Frankenstein raising the monster to the skies for a lightning bolt of life.

Now, not all Scorpios are mad scientists. Some don’t even obsess over people, but rather work, causes, or other power rides that get their juices flowing. Still, the science metaphor stands. Scientists must remain objective and at least somewhat detached from the outcome of their experiments or the results are biased and invalid. To insist on the outcome of the trial (you will love me or else!) is not exactly good science or good romantic chemistry. Like the other fixed signs, there is a letting go required that is the antithesis of what feels natural to a Scorpio clinging for dear life to his beloved or project.

The saying comes to mind (paraphrased), If you love someone (or something), let it go and if they really belong to/with you, they’ll come back on their own. Of course, you’ve probably heard the less than evolved Scorpionic response to that old saw: And if they don’t come back, I’ll hunt them down, drag them back, and kill them.

You cannot own the life force. The force must flow through you and those who enter your orb of influence, similar to the Leo admonition not to hold onto the Sun. Whether it’s the Sun or the lab chemicals of love or other volatile combinations, burn happens if you clutch them. Scorpio’s realm, from high to low, is the stuff of magic and medicine—or explosive Pluto-nium. Birth, death, sexuality—Scorpio’s realms are the ultimate extreme of matters that matter most. The life force that joins you willingly creates a powerful resonance for you and everyone in your sphere. Otherwise, you’re living on the Death Star.

Scorpio is the part of the inner growth cycle where we don’t just mix the flowers of self with those of another to form a bouquet. Here we understand the pure creative potential of combining energies to form something bigger and synergistically more potent. This is the same alchemy that will turn plants into medicine or other powerful products. It benefits not just the donors, but has the potential to change everyone and everything their merger touches.

Final recap: Leo brings first bloom; Virgo completes the blooming before harvest. Libra harvests and shares the beauty and bounty of the self-development crop. Scorpio combines energies to make medicine and other potent by-products of energetic mergers.

~~~

Next week: High Signs, Part 3: Sagittarius through Pisces and conclusion of the series.

Photo Credit: HAPPY CHILDREN GIVING VICTORY SIGN © Maszas Dreamstime.com

Wholeness and the Inner Marriage

The Chiron Sector and Relationship

© By Joyce Mason, 1992 - 2009

Key Words and Concepts
The many keywords for Chiron fit into a one-word concept—wholeness. For instance, Chironic people and things act as a “rainbow bridge” between Saturn and Uranus, synthesizing the best of the old and new. Chiron's job is to intercede between tradition (the way things have always been) and (r) evolution (the way things need to become). Chiron is the ambassador between these extremes, helping us to weave all polarities within the fabric of ourselves. The tapestry that results is wholeness. The threads for weaving into the fabric of our Selves include male/female, light/dark, and the pairs of astrological opposites: Aries/Libra, Taurus/Scorpio, and so on.

Another key word, alternatives, clearly points to Chiron's balancing or equalizing function. When the Establishment becomes too Saturnian (like the American Medical Association), we seek alternatives (in this case, we even call the alternative holistic medicine, another Chironic term).

One of my favorite Chironic words is shamanism. The shamanistic journey creates wholeness by dismembering the shaman. The dark night of the soul involves being ripped apart, facing death and/or demons, then being put back together again. Only when a member of the tribe has successfully faced this initiation does he or she become convincing (and trustworthy) as a healer and guide to help others become whole. Metaphorically, astrologers and other healers fulfill this function by dealing with their own “stuff,” be it physical or emotional dis-ease or other issues. To be perceived as authentic, modern-day shamans, too, must be willing to face their own darkness. We often face darkness by recreating the original wound (Chiron's wounded healer dimension), thereby experiencing some form of psychic death in order to be resurrected.

In another classic exercise in the integration of polarities, shamans were often required to cross-dress and live as the opposite sex. [1] In a modern-day parallel, we're all being asked to put the shoe on the other foot—to try on the recessive characteristics of the opposite sex within us. While we’re getting there, more than thirty years after the women’s movement, many people still aren't used to this, the real sexual revolution. Perhaps if we remember the Chironic balance-to-wholeness function, we'll keep trying to walk in each other's moccasins until we find a pair of comfortable “cross-trainers.” This thought may be difficult to hold while the fabric of how we relate as men and women is being ripped apart, like the shaman-in-training. After all, new shoes often pinch until they're broken in.

Kicking off our shoes for the moment and getting back to key words, some of the following qualities of Chiron are associated with various signs of the zodiac: synthesizes (Virgo), balances (Libra), dies and resurrects (Scorpio). Chiron was a teacher and mentor, dispensing a balanced “higher” education (Sagittarius). Chiron's students learned physical, metaphysical, and artistic skills. Heroes came out of this holistic body-mind-spirit training.

A hero is someone who demonstrates the ability to contact and act unselfishly from his or her Higher Self in urgent circumstances.

The height of wholeness is to be able to give your best with spontaneity, trusting Spirit to flow through you, where instinct and knowledge merge into just the right action.

This ability comes from the development of intuition, and is part of our lost "…oracular and divination skills ... This level of skill is simply reaching a holistic level of integration where we act without the intervention of conscious thought.” [2]

Rulership
How can wholeness be just one thing?

While Al H. Morrison suggested the subject of rulership became moot once we knew Chiron was a comet, [3] I still believe that any astronomical body can be linked by metaphor to any sign, idea, or process. Because the characteristics of several signs of the zodiac appear within the Chiron myth, single-sign rulership is precluded, but those “signs of many signs” support Chiron's consummate keyword, wholeness. In previous writings, I've suggested that Chiron is most strongly affiliated with Virgo, at least “for now.”[4] From this conviction, coupled with my belief that the sign Virgo has been maligned and misunderstood, [5] I've lived up to my Catholic confirmation name, Joan (of Arc), jumping on my white charger to save the sign of Virgo. At first, I thought this mission was self-serving due to my own Virgo Sun sign. It took awhile before I realized that I was on to something much more: Virgo is the key to understanding Chiron's connection to a process of inner marriage that ultimately leads to wholeness. The process of becoming whole—Chiron's process—is linked with the Virgo-to-Sagittarius sector of the zodiac, with Virgo as the pivotal sign.

From as far back as the first years following discovery, the major theories on Chiron's rulership have focused on Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, and Sagittarius. Collective first instincts often give us the best information we'll ever get about the meaning of symbols in our culture. It’s much like taking a test as a student. Your first, instinctual answer is usually correct.

There have been two primary assumptions about Chiron. Because mythological Chiron was a centaur and a great teacher, some astrologers (e.g., Melanie Reinhart) [6] believe Chiron rules Sagittarius. Others (particularly Barbara Hand Clow) [7] make a case for Virgo rulership based on Chiron's work as a holistic healer and herbalist, as well as his unselfish service to the many heroes he mentored. The surge in holistic healing and the reawakening of esoteric knowledge around the time of Chiron's discovery further supports this connection.

Yet others presume some link between Chiron and Libra, the sign it occupies at perihelion or its orbital point of closest approach to the Sun. [8] Since Chiron guides us to wholeness by way of a balancing act, this is easy to see—more so as this article touches on Chiron's role in relationships. A less held, but significant early theory focused both on Chiron's legendary skills as a surgeon and the observation of Chiron's transits, which can involve pregnancy and birth, sex, parenting, illness and death. Tony Joseph thus made a case for Scorpio co-rulership (with Sagittarius). [9]

My answer to the question, ‘Which sign does Chiron rule?’ is “all of the above,” with this qualification: I agree with Dale O'Brien that the concept of rulership is out of mythical character with Chiron. [10] To rule at some level implies domination, which was never Chiron’s way. He never tried to rein in the other centaurs, the rowdy ones so different from him, who could have well used a dose of leadership and Saturn. So rather than “rule,” I think Chiron enlightens, a concept consistent with his teaching and mentoring role. Chiron enlightens us about this special one-third of the zodiac from Virgo to Sagittarius, where we begin to shift the focus from Self to Other. If we choose to, we can take the trip to wholeness, which centers on integrating the masculine and feminine, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. Chiron can even tell us the steps we have to take to get there.

The Inner Marriage
The path to wholeness and Chiron's purpose cannot be understood until we correct our centuries-long misuse of the word virgo. Liz Greene writes that virgo once meant intact or self-contained. Virgo was represented by the Great Goddess, the Magna Mater, the Great Harlot… and in a sexual sense; she was ‘no virgin.’ [11] As an archetype, she is her own person, offering her femininity freely, as she chooses. To clarify:

A virgo or virgin is not someone who doesn't have sex. She isn't a whore, either. She doesn’t have sex for money or other gain or for any other reason except wanting to give herself.

A virgo does not use her sexual power to manipulate; her purity lies in her integrity. She is whole in and of herself, and therefore has her whole Self to offer.

This kind of woman or “virgoness" drives the
patriarchy wild because no one can control her. A woman in total abandon, uninhibited in her shakti or life energy, is awe-inspiring, and can raise fear, even in the heart of the maleness within women. Historically, the matrifocal earth religions, characterized in part by shakti running rampant in drumming and ceremony, scared the male powers-that-be. It scared them enough to bring on the Inquisition. (Their charbroiled past lives could be why some of today's women have had the shakti scared out of them.) Psychologists speak of men's envy of women's creative function, which is much more than baby making. The path to wholeness starts at Virgo, where men (and women with dominant male energy) can develop their feminine and full creative potential.

A true Virgo has done the difficult work of self-betterment, aiming for perfection or the best possibility. She chooses carefully to whom and to what she will give herself. She is very self-reliant, merging the mental (left-brain) aspects of traditional Mercury rulership with her feminine (right brain) sign. It is the same for the male Virgo. I am using the feminine because of Virgo's female symbol.
This is the first step to wholeness and can be easily skipped due to our desire for Cup-a-Soup, instant relationships. For love to work as a deep and lasting bond, a person needs good material in a partner. The Virgo of the zodiac symbol would not have a successful harvest if she planted her seeds in poor soil. This aspect of Virgo asks us to analyze our chances; to be sure we take calculated, reasonable risks in love.

Virgo also tells us this about the Chironic process to wholeness: we will not find salvation in another. In order to find joy and happiness with another, we first find our own integrity, or integrate ourselves—that means balancing our masculine and feminine. We think of Virgo as often choosing to remain single. An evolved Virgo will remain single until she finds good material, because masculine and feminine are in balance. She has relationship because she wants to not because she has to. She partners for synergy, where two wholes are more than sum of their parts.

The more intact we enter relationship, the more problems are averted. Most of us try to do Libra and the 7th house before we have successfully learned the Virgo lessons. For sure, marrying ourselves is hard work. Inner marriage means we can't blame anyone but ourselves for our happiness or lack thereof. It demands tough loving our inner child, the sometimes-bratty part in all of us that wants her own way and someone else to be wrong. We all talk about how we have to give 100% in relationships—we know that at some basic level—but if we don't do Virgo first, we don't have 100% to give.

Typically, Cupid-struck, we enter Libra, unaware that we are looking for qualities in our partners that we have not personally developed. Here's where we begin to get into a lot of trouble. I think the reason the sexes have been at war for eons boils down to the fact that they're sick and tired of doing each other's work. When we project our recessive inner male or female onto our partners, we are handing over our power and asking them to be responsible for us instead of developing our own wholeness. Then we get furious when we lose ourselves, when we discover a piece of us is missing. No wonder we feel controlled. No wonder when we break up, a part of us dies.

Perhaps the most important point about the inner marriage is that it must come before a successful outer marriage or committed partnership is possible. The Chiron Sector of the zodiac not only gives us a step-by-step prescription to wholeness, but it also tells us that those steps must be taken in order.

When we develop Virgo and the 6th house first, the partnership in Libra and the 7th house is much more positive. Our partners then tend to reflect our recessive qualities back to us in a gentler way; we see our Selves in the mirror of the Other. This brings a sense of merging, and focuses on our likenesses instead of the alienation that invariably comes with projection, which involves not owning our recessive masculine or feminine halves. When you or someone you know often verbalizes sentiments like, “men are jerks” or "women are bitches," it’s a symptom of projection in progress. The prescription is to go back and do Virgo—get self-contained and develop the inner opposite before the next trip to Libra.

Outer Marriage
Once we've mastered Virgo, we're ready to give our Selves in partnership, but before you breathe a sigh and figure you've arrived at Happily Ever After, here's another caution. It won't work if you let lust dominate and try to skip over to Scorpio and the 8th house before you've done Libra and the 7th. While the sexual revolution of the 1960s and 1970s was so crucial for balance—to counteract the repressive upbringing most of us did not enjoy—it created, at least for the baby boomer generation, the lousy Neptune-in-Libra illusion that sex is synonymous with intimacy.

Brian Clark gave a brilliant presentation on the 8th house at the April 1992 United Astrology Congress (UAC) in Washington, D.C. According to Clark, the 8th house (and Scorpio) is where we touch into our infantile rage. In a nutshell, we were bonded to mother in utero, and then she abandoned us (kicked us out by the contractions of birthing). Later, we awaken to find out she's in love with somebody else! (Father) All 8th house relationships replay this scenario and the Oedipal triangle. There can be no passion without anger, death, jealousy, and possessiveness. They all go with the territory.

This is a very charged area of life, and if we go there before getting to know one another and developing the romance and trust that goes with the 7th house and Libra, we're bound to have high drama and the worst of Pluto. With a strong 7th, there is a basic bond of good will. We're likely to acknowledge the other's faults and darkness (and our own), and allow each other to express them and therefore to let go of them. Libra has to do with merging based on an ideal, whether that ideal is a shared project, children, or a similar worldview. There's something about being “in it together” for a purpose larger than ourselves that minimizes the tendency to project our darker parts onto the other. When partners view each other as the enemy, it's a sure sign this step has been skipped.

The sexual revolution separated the body from the mind and spirit. Without the entire trinity, sooner or later sex becomes empty. In the 7th house, we have an opportunity to become companions and close friends—the best kind of relationship for facing all that of 8th house darkness that comes with the bright heat of intense sexual merging.

Microcosm to Macrocosm
Why is one-to-one relationship so important? If we learn to love an individual, we can extend love to other ethnic, religious, and political groups—to other nations. The 9th house is the boundary between one other and many others. We meet groups of others the 10th, 11th, and 12th, where we can better the world by giving ourselves to the collective. The 9th house is related to the sign of higher philosophy (Sagittarius) and ruled by the planet of prosperity (Jupiter). Now married, both inside and out, we receive the cornucopia of blessings, and in Jupiter’s typical fashion, we want to give back generously by sharing the higher view we've learned from our experiences. We may want to travel—now that we can relate to one human being intimately, we can relate to the rest of the world.

Chiron appears to have had a positive relationship with his wife, the sea nymph Chariclo. [12] He gave his students a well-rounded education, the kind they would need to balance anima and animus—to become heroes. In these turning-point times, good relationships, both inner and outer, are necessary to equalize the masculine and feminine principles on a global level, to assimilate polarities for the sake of wholeness and survival.

Throughout history, people have considered comets to be omens. The half-comet Chiron, discovered at a critical juncture of human evolution, points to the balance needed to move humanity into an alternative lifestyle of holism that will support Earth and all life upon Her in abundance. By his very nature, both astronomical and mythical, Chiron teaches us that healing is a composite job. The cream of life is actually half ‘n’ half. It’s those opposite illusions that blend somewhere in the middle and add a sweet taste to life.

In the 1960s, the vision of peace, love, and harmony was so ahead of its time, its champions were called the counterculture. During this same era, marked by Pluto conjunct Uranus in Virgo, we started a sexual revolution, but it was just the beginning. Now we are on the brink of a revolution in relationship to ourselves and others that demands nothing less than a whole new world.

The Mayan Prophecy of 2012 tells us we are about to transition from one world to the next. It’s not the literal end of the world, but rather the end of the world, as we knew it. I believe this is a time where we will create our personal and global reality from the inside out—the insight out, too—with our thoughts and intentions. Never has it been more essential to have good self-esteem and self-development, the pivotal lessons of Virgo.

The ‘60s were a premonition. The peace sign is back. This time ‘round, we’re right on time.
~~~

Photo credit: ZODIAC CLOCK © Boggy Dreamstime.com

NOTES
[1] Rogan P. Taylor, The Death and Resurrection Show, Anthony Blond, 1985, pp. 28-30.
[2] Barbara Hand Clow, Chiron: Rainbow Bridge Between the Inner and Outer Planets, Llewellyn, 1987, p.7.
[3] Zane B. Stein, Essence and Application: A View from Chiron, 3rd Edition, CAO Times, Box 75, Old Chelsea Station, New York, NY 10013, 1988. Update/Forward by Al H. Morrison, publisher. Note: Since this article was written in 1992, astronomers have confirmed that Chiron to be the first discovered among a new breed of composite planetary bodies, aptly called centaurs—half-comet and half-planetoid or asteroid.
[4] Joyce Mason, "The Radical Virgo," The Mountain Astrologer, April/May 1992, pp.57-60.
[5] Joyce Mason, "A New Look at Virgo," The Mountain Astrologer, April/May 1990, pp.31-33.
[6] Melanie Reinhart, Chiron and the Healing Journey, Arkana, 1989, 431 pp.
[7] See Clow, Reference #2.
[8] Erminie Lantero, The Continuing Discovery of Chiron, Samuel Weiser, 1983, p. 50.
[9] Ibid., pp. 25 and 51.
[10] Dale O'Brien, The Myth of Chiron, recorded 6/21/91 at The Mountain Astrologer's Planet Camp Conference in Philo, California.
[11] Liz Greene, Star Signs for Lovers, Stein & Day, 1980, p.194.
[12] See O'Brien, reference #10.

This article first appeared in Chironicles in December 1992 and in The Mountain Astrologer in October 1993.