Showing posts with label Scorpio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scorpio. Show all posts

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 | Fotolia.com



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.

Friday, January 16, 2015

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 5th 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

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

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

 Generic Sun

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?

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

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

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

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

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!

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.

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!

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.

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

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.

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
 
“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!

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

(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.

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!


Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Moonwalk: Scorpio



© 2010 by Joyce Mason
All Rights Reserved

Get naked under the New Moon! Even though the Moon in this photo is Full (New Moons are almost invisible and hard to capture), the idea’s the same. The Scorpio Moon is time for emotional and physical intimacy. To see yourself, warts and all. To become comfortable with your own vulnerability.

Scorpio Moon people are not usually open to exposure in public, even in the moonlight, unless they’ve got some other more exhibitionistic signs in their chart to support such abandon. (Hi, Leos!) The compulsion to be secretive, jealous, possessive, and keep intimacies between you and one other are more what Scorpio Moon craves. People tell me you know your own dark side and suspect others of having a shadow as big as yours. Our Scorpio Moon model is not looking at her own reflection in the water. It’s hard. She’s busy trying to hide her nakedness.

Yet under Scorpio Moon, self-reflection is called for. Have you been gloating on hurts? Fantasizing vengeance? Trust and openness are difficult for natal Scorpio Moons when their feelings are hurt so easily. Like all the water signs, Scorpio Moon lives by feelings and sensations. This New Moon, it’s time for all of us to go deep sea diving in our own psyches to see what’s down there. Be sure to bring plenty of air in your tank, the air element corresponding to your mind and ideas. Take your most objective and positive thinking so that you will be able to sustain a good analysis of what you find. Later under this Moon cycle, you can decide what to do about feelings that may need some work, release, or rehabilitation.

Moonlore: Touch a silver coin when you see the New Moon. It will bring you luck.
~ Moon Wisdom by Sally Morningstar

One of the most important things to embrace, if you have a Scorpio Moon natally or are just experiencing this Scorpio New Moon with the rest of us: This Moon sign is extremely intuitive, even psychic. Suppressing this tendency can cause all kinds of physical and emotional ailments. Learning to work with your sensitivities and finding the right mentors to help you harness them for good are vital. If you’re not a Scorpio Moon native, could be this New Moon lights up your chart in just the right way. You, too, may find yourself having unusual experiences. Don’t run. Don’t hide. Get yourself to someone who knows what it’s like, someone who uses their highly sensitive skills on a regular basis. Ask your trusted friends for a referral, and if it feels right, see an intuitive, a shaman, or a dream interpreter. Many useful visions come in our sleep. Before you go to bed, ask for guidance in your dreams to make the most out of this deep, watery and truth-telling Moon.

The Dance of Dark and Light

All this talk of dark and our own reflection helps us prepare for winter. Even though this New Moon comes in the middle of autumn, the Scorpio turf of darkness and examining your interior foreshadows winter. Now that we’re past Autumn Equinox, we are in the waning time of the year. Light decreases. Dark increases. If we are living in harmony with the earth and sky, our activity levels also need to come down a notch. We need to spend more time on introspection and less on “running around.” Take this patch before Thanksgiving to practice, because as soon as the biggest part of the holiday preparation and whirlwind is over, this inner place is where you want to return and spend important spiritual growth time during winter.

Click to enlarge

This New Moon

First, I’ve decided to make our Moonwalk charts more universal and less geocentric to myself as author of these articles. Now we’ll be viewing the New Moon from a theoretical 0o Aries Rising, Equal House chart and from Greenwich, England—the central point from which we measure our worldwide time zones.

Second, while I cover the Sabian symbol in depth in the monthly Moongram to my e-mail list subscribers, it’s too important in the scheme of this New Moon not to mention it to everyone.



Scorpio 14:
Telephone linemen at work installing new connections.


This month’s Sabian speaks to receiving information and networking it. All the more reason for us to tune into our psyche and psychic messages—and to learn to live by them.

An aside and personal share: I have an over-emphasized Moon in my chart including a close sextile with Chiron in Scorpio. My first spiritual teacher, Betty Bethards, used to credit her Scorpio planets as the source of her psychic gifts. While it has taken many years to develop, I am finally learning to trust my lunar information—a cumulative “arrival.” Here’s the part I want to share as my testimonial. I cannot believe how much easier my life is and how much better it  works now that I listen to that inner voice with barely a second thought. It probably sounds corny and like a big metaphysical platitude, but I invite you to try it just for this Moon cycle. Tell us what happens in the Comments!

Back to the sky, you may notice that the Sun/Moon conjunction in Scorpio stands alone in a sense. The pair makes no major aspects to other planets in the chart. That fact gives this New Moon no “extra coloring” and emphasizes the direct Scorpio meanings mentioned above all the more. (If you want to add the asteroid Vesta, not shown but at 15 Scorpio, you can increase the feminine and intuitive influence. Are we having group visions yet?)

Other things in the chart are quite significant. Chiron and Neptune station and go direct within a day of the New Moon. Chiron and Neptune have been retrograde since spring, and they are also planets that symbolize the psychic and intuitive realms, as well as those of compassion and caring. Chiron’s mother, Philyra, was a sea nymph or Oceanid. The sea nymphs were very psychic, and this is Chiron’s maternal lineage. With his father as Chronos/Saturn, Chiron had the gift of bringing intuitive information down to earth for practical application—something we might all want to emulate. Mercury trine Chiron/Neptune in this chart is yet another symbol for trusting inner wisdom and our Higher Self when it taps into All That Is—easy under this Moon cycle.

As Chiron and Neptune move forward into Pisces, they will become additional symbols of the Oneness Consciousness predicted by the Mayans and others, the real way the world will end and start anew. Pluto conjunct the North Node in Capricorn in this chart continues to give us a heads-up that where we’re headed is a major tear-down and reconstruction of our institutions and the structures that no longer function well and keep us stuck.

This New Moon is no small potatoes. It invites us to align our sensory perception to the changes that are coming and to hone our inner rudder for a world where this kind of inner communication is the norm and our new way of life.

~~~

Photo Credit: Reflections in Water © René Valenta | Fantasy Art Visions

René Valenta was born in the Czech Republic and moved to the US when he was 19, not knowing he would stay here. Always fascinated by the inner human soul and motivations, René captures his observations in his art. He studies acupuncture to heal the human body, mind and soul. How to help people grow in a positive direction and bring healing to our world is what motivates him most. René is a devoted fan of The Radical Virgo and notes that with his “RV” initials, he’s obviously in the right place!




Have you joined the New Moongram Mailing List? The monthly New Moongram complements this monthly Moonwalk feature with additional information and special offers. This month’s coupon is a $50 Chiron Reading by E-mail, an average two-page, single spaced, typewritten and completely personalized report. Joyce will comment on how your Chiron and its house, sign and aspects fit into your chart; how your Chiron configuration may help you identify and overcome your personal stumbling blocks toward wholeness; and your vocational potentials. Sign up on the sidebar to get details, coupon, and purchase link. This offer is currently running for one month only!

Sunday, August 9, 2009

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


Thursday, May 28, 2009

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.