Category Archives: Columnist

Double Sagittarius: Bruce Lee and Jimi Hendrix

By Len Wallick

What passes for immortality in our time is attained by those who set young imaginations on fire all over the world so as to live longer in culture than in body. Such is the case for two of the most widely influential figures of our time, Bruce Lee and Jimi Hendrix — both double Sagittarians born on Nov. 27.

Jimi Hendirx

Jimi Hendrix

Sagittarius is the third of three so-called fire signs, following Aries and Leo. As such, Sagittarius represents the most evolved expression of the fire element in astrology — evoking spiritual inspiration and emblematic of the highest aspirations.

You can grasp the symbolism of superlative fire by Sagittarius’ ruling planet: Jupiter, the largest planet in the solar system, named after the ruler of ancient Rome’s pantheon of deities. Hence, it is not surprising that two of the most surpassing modern immortals were Sagittarius twice over in their natal astrology.

Bruce Lee was born on Nov. 27, 1940, in San Francisco, California. Jimi Hendrix was born on the same day two years later in Seattle, Washington. Both were born early enough in the morning to have Sagittarius as both the rising and solar sign in their natal charts. Hence, both were double Sagittarians.

The ascendant (or rising) sign and the Sun are two of the three most important points in any natal chart, along with the Moon.

The Sun represents (among other things), consciousness. The ascendant, (also among other things) corresponds with an apparent reason for undertaking an earthly incarnation expressed physically as a distinguishing proficiency or trait.

In their combination, a Sun and ascendant in Sagittarius correlated with an evident drive for both Jimi Hendrix and Bruce Lee to distinguish themselves as different and original. Tellingly, both are known by names other than those given at birth. Also notable is that in distinguishing themselves Bruce and Jimi polarized people, predominantly along generational lines.

Bruce Lee

Bruce Lee

As a rule, those who were inspired by Jimi Hendrix and Bruce Lee were and continue to be the youth of the world. Young people tend to rebel against the established order they were born into, and as part of normal human development, choose means to express their individual and collective passions, which differ from those handed down by elders.

The subject of passions is meaningfully addressed by another layer of natal astrology Lee and Hendrix had in common: being born with the Moon and Mars in water signs.

The three astrological signs associated with water (Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces) constitute a steamy complement to the triumvirate of fire signs. What fire is to spirituality, water is to intuition. Where inspiration burns, emotions also flood. The hot thirst of aspirations is quenched only by satisfaction. In the combination is something of what sets humanity apart from both machines and other biological beings.

The energy associated with Mars is (in the words of Robert Hand) “a fundamental part of the ego drive.” The Moon, for its part, is well known for its association with emotional attachments. Put a natal Mars and a natal Moon in water signs, then combine with the Sun and ascendant in fiery Sagittarius, and the astrological native is not likely either to express or provoke indifference.

Finally, at least some of their appeal to youth is partly attributable to the tragic fact that neither Jimi Hendrix nor Bruce Lee ever grew old.

Jimi died on Sept. 18, 1970, in London. Lee passed from this mortal coil on July 20, 1973, in Hong Kong. Both were still young by anybody’s standards.

Hence, every surviving image of Bruce Lee and Jimi Hendrix speaks to immortal qualities that persist in those who were born long after their death. Qualities taken up by those who have long been inspired to emulate and honor the memory of two virtually immortal and doubly Sagittarian spirits.

See charts for both Hendrix and Lee below.

Messenger, Not Passenger: Mercury Ingress Sagittarius

Mercury enters tropical Sagittarius in direct motion at 9:26 pm EST tonight (02:26 UT tomorrow) as a messenger, not as a passenger. Planets move through signs, and in doing so bring their archetypal messages to express through a given sign’s ‘nature’ (or ‘signature’, if you will) as an example of change manifesting in your life.

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Perhaps you should take the occasion to at least think about emulating Mercury by your example. After all, you are here, and existence is so much more meaningful with a purpose.

One question rational discourse cannot resolve is whether you came here with a purpose that preceded your existence, or whether purpose is something you bring to being here. Nonetheless, it makes sense to assume nothing you can’t readily prove. Centuries ago a fellow named Rene Descartes covered the first base for you with a premise never disproved: “I think, therefore I am.”

Even so, it’s often the path of least resistance to ride along as a passenger with how others think. It requires conscious effort to get off the bus upon occasion, actually making it your purpose to convey yourself. Mercury’s ingress to Sagittarius tonight is just such an occasion. 

Among versatile Mercury’s many roles in astrology (beyond its mythic image as a messenger) is a representation of how you think. Accordingly, astrology posits that Mercury changing signs indicates some sort of corresponding change of mind is in order.

You don’t need any astrologer to tell you the nature of your thoughts since Mercury re-entered Scorpio (following its last retrograde of 2014) on Nov. 8. However, it would be implicitly helpful if you were to demonstrate a capacity to get off the Scorpio thought-bus and be open to changing how you think with Mercury’s ingress to Sagittarius tonight.

It would also be explicitly helpful if your being open-minded were to serve as an example for others to emulate after Mercury’s implied shift of expression upon entering Sagittarius.

Since most of us cannot assume to read your mind, being an example means being a messenger and expressing yourself as somebody who is open to how others think, somebody who is simply willing to change.

Simply being open to changing your mind may not seem like an exceptional message, but it is. It’s emblematic of what Mercury is doing tonight, and Mercury is profound company to keep.

Indeed (as well as in word), when you consider some of the human company you might be keeping today, a lot of what you see and hear is likely to be from those who have made up their mind.

By simply being open to how others think, you will be the exception among those who have made it their purpose merely to take exception. At the end of the day, it is only by setting such a simple yet profound example that anything or anybody is likely to change.

And change, once started, tends to acquire a momentum as others join in. So, unless you think the world is fine the way it is right now, please consider to what extent you are a passenger in it all. What purpose you might serve by simply moving out of a previous signature and into another, like Mercury the messenger?

Offered In Service

Len is available for astrology readings. You can contact him at lenwallick [at] gmail [dot] com.

Pour that Gravy Slowly: Sun square Neptune

With the Sun newly in Sagittarius and Mercury about to join it — and both squaring Neptune in Pisces — the sky is urging some caution lest you run (or drive) faster than you really need to and hit a slippery patch. That’s a metaphor for human interactions and your inner thought process, but consider taking it literally, too — especially if yo live in the U.S. Today is the busiest travel day of the year thanks to tomorrow’s Thanksgiving holiday.

Photo by Amanda Painter

Photo by Amanda Painter

As Eric Francis wrote in Monday’s Astrology Diary, “Anything square Neptune is slippery, and with the Sun, the bigger they are the more slippery the floor.” He adds that Neptune squares “urge caution, awareness and the gathering of facts. They especially urge keeping a grip on your own idealism and ungrounded expectations.”

If you ever hope or expect that your family will be any different at holidays compared to how they usually are — and then get disappointed — re-read that last sentence. Sun-Neptune aspects lean toward believing what you want to believe, regardless whether it’s true or not. That quality is critical to notice in matters outside of family, too.

Mercury enters Sagittarius at 9:26 pm EST Thursday. Mercury in Sadge generally indicates a quick but potentially unfocused mind, one that is thinking so far ahead about the big picture that it misses the details. It’s also prone to foot-in-mouth disease; its saving grace is that it’s sincere and cannot stand deception.

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Taking Their Time — Jupiter and Saturn

Jupiter and Saturn are taking their time, each in their own way. So, it may seem, is humanity taking its time to decide what we will be. It’s a process in which every one of us is involved, like it or not. Each in our own way we are determining more than just our individual fates — we are determining the fate of our kind.

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It’s not a simple thing to be living now. Nonetheless, it is a great privilege, and a great responsibility you have accrued simply by being alive.

From the cold streets of Ferguson, Missouri, to hot, parched desert battlefields there is both a great raising and a great lowering going on. For as many as are rising above their fear all over the world, there are also many lowered by fear. The net result is taking its time — but like Jupiter and Saturn, not taking forever.

Closer to the Sun than Jupiter and Saturn are the personal planets — Mercury, Venus and Mars — making their appointed rounds swiftly to mark our years. Farther from the Sun, from Uranus outward, are planets of history, distinguishing centuries and even millennial cycles by their own circulations.

In between are Jupiter and Saturn, the inter-personal planets by which decades are determined and generations are judged.

Right now, Jupiter and Saturn are taking their time coming to some astrologically implicit conclusions, giving each and all of us some extra time in the bargain. And a bargain it is, the nature of which each and all of us will determine in the months to come.

In four short months, Jupiter has traversed more than two-thirds of the way through tropical Leo. In recent weeks, however, Jupiter’s progress has slowed practically to a stop as a prelude to a five-month-long retrograde (beginning on Dec. 8), which will enforce a review of nearly half of Jupiter’s advancement so far.

Saturn, for its part, is about to conclude more than two years of slogging through the waters of Scorpio to refresh its spirit in the fires of Sagittarius on Dec. 23. Nevertheless, it is in Scorpio for nearly seven more weeks, and a retrograde next year will compel Saturn’s return — allowing Scorpio to collect what it is justly owed before Saturn is finally free.

So it is that in the immediate future of the inter-personal planets time will be taken, and given. The question is what you will do with the time being given to you.

Will you apply the awareness astrology offers to raise your own and that of others? Or will you lower yourself to indifference as if that will change anything?

The late, great astrologer Rachelle (“Rockie”) Gardiner often preached that, “patience is the key to heaven.” By that pithy observation she did not invoke a mythic key to pearl-encrusted gates.

Rather, she meant that none of us can make the planets, nor their apparently synchronized earthy cycles move any faster. She implied that each and all of us are best served by taking the time given by the heavens gratefully and using it wisely to access what of heaven Earth does indeed offer.

So how will you take your time during the season to come? That’s your question to answer, along with the rest of us, every one, as the heavens patiently watch.

Offered In Service

Len is available for astrology readings. You can contact him at lenwallick [at] gmail [dot] com.

The Ancestor

Dear Friend and Reader:

On the first night that the Sun was in Scorpio, I fell asleep a bit early on the bed in my photo studio and awoke a few hours later from a lucid dream — a dream in which I knew that I was dreaming.

I was in an attic room. John Kennedy was expressing his rage, ever so politely but rage no less, that the American public fell for the cover-up of his murder.

Caroline Kennedy and her father John, at Hyannisport, Mass., aboard the "Honey Fitz" on August 25, 1963. Photo by Cecil Stoughton.

Caroline Kennedy and her father, John, at Hyannis Port, Mass., aboard the “Honey Fitz” on August 25, 1963. Photo by Cecil Stoughton.

He was incredulous that such an obvious fraud could hold up to any scrutiny at all.

What I recall most vividly was his conveying the feeling of, “How could this be possible, how could anyone fall for this?”

He explained that the FBI had killed 150 people in the process of ‘investigating’ his murder.

He was healthy and in good condition, wearing a suit, leaning up on his elbows on a small bed. Kennedy went on for a while, explaining certain particulars of the case.

There was one other person there. I don’t know who; I never saw his/her face. I don’t believe we were direct collaborators but rather that we had a similar mission. I understood that Kennedy was speaking to me in a gesture of trust: that I would understand that it was real, and that I would not be silent.

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The Poetry of Connection

This has been one of those weeks when my phone has been vibrating frequently with people asking if something is up with the stars, when friends have been reporting weariness at best, exhaustion and seemingly insurmountable mood swings at worst, and when I have returned to my cyclical realization of just how difficult the dark days are in the Pacific Northwest. I’ve experienced the drain and moodiness as well, but three distinct events have shown me the importance of maintaining connection during these times.

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Whether you believe it’s the Uranus-Pluto square, Sun conjunct Saturn, wintertime blues, or aren’t aware of a collective malaise at all, connection seems to be a vital thread keeping us warm right now.

I’ve thought a lot this week about connection and poetry. I hated poetry for along time, unless I was writing it myself. Then, in grad school, several teachers introduced me to Rainer Maria Rilke and Mary Oliver. My soul gasped and danced and understood. I felt connected.

Poetry connects my spirit, my words and my intellect with my body through evoking emotional resonance. So does music, actually — translating emotion into memory into physical sensation and back again.

Last weekend my lover and I went to a piano concert. It’s been so long since I’ve considered the fluid enchantment of classical piano, let alone listened to it. We sat there, fingers ruminating on keys, knowing the depth of sensitivity needed to articulate the composer’s dream through ivory and pedal, fluid and floating to our ears and our hearts, cascading into ripples of connection.

I closed my eyes and could feel my lover’s gaze on me, memorizing my shape in those moments, drinking me in, imprinting sound and wonder and enchantment and arousal. I opened my eyes to see him beaming at me, surrounded by all of that color and sound, both of us present and breathing deep, with the experience augmented by a tasty little edible intoxicant — the kind that are so blessedly legal here in Washington state. And there it was — connection, emotion, translated through us through music. Bliss.

Monday I taught a class about constructing New Moon rituals. I had no expectations but was so heartened to have 20 people drop in, mostly strangers, all of whom were so incredibly open to learning. We journeyed to the beginnings of creation, to uncover images relevant to our personal experiences. We sniffed black pepper mixed with orange and clove; frankincense, lemon and cinnamon; rose and sandalwood. I read poetry aloud and we talked and shared our uncertainties about faith and our hopes for the future. Strangers finding connection. And at the end — community, connection, smiling faces and open hearts.

Wednesday I attended a death café. The heart of it, a woman 70-something years young going through her second bout of cancer, and again — poetry and connection as each of us told our tales of holding space, of traumatic loss, of confusion and love and faith and lack of such. We talked about the afterlife, of rotting, while sitting in a circle — some of us uncomfortable, some so right at home. The poetry of the unknown, the inconsistencies and mutability of our oh-so-human life, cascading into experience and connection.

I wonder now about the difference between the poetry of longing and trials and traumas and fears versus the poetry of light and love and hope. Connection is inherent in both. Attachment is as well.

I hope we can all stay connected this winter, even if just to some semblance of holding space for our own souls when we’re feeling isolated or alone. And I hope that we can remain willing to move between contrasts and seeming opposites so that we can come through this phase with some kind of presence that allows us to move forward with our arms around each other, rather than separate.

Weekend Tarot Reading — Sunday, Nov. 23, 2014

By Sarah Taylor

The two outer cards in this week’s reading couldn’t be more contrasted if I had gone through the deck and hand-picked them myself; while the card in the centre is the turning point, away from one, and towards the other.

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Four of Disks, Princess of Swords, Princess of Cups from the Röhrig Tarot deck, created by Carl-W. Röhrig. Click on the image for a larger version.

Like all of the Fours in tarot, the Four of Disks is associated with a ‘pause’ — here, specifically, the pause that happens at the point of a consolidation of power, where a decision is being offered for consideration. In the Two and the Three of Disks, you started to understand how to move through, and work with, the physical world, including how to start working towards a particular material goal. In the Four of Disks, you have amassed enough (possessions, money, repute — take your pick) that you have attached a certain importance to it. It is the outer demonstration of achievement and agency.

And yet here is the decision that is on offer to you, if you are able to recognise its presence.

Do you stay where you are, holding on to what you have — and therefore holding on to the importance that you have attached to it — or do you acknowledge what it has taken to get where you are, and let go, not of what you have, but of a need to preserve what you have for fear of being without?

The Princess of Swords to the right, and facing away from, the Four of Disks tells me that a process of liberation has already started to take place. This is your self-enacted liberation from ideas and beliefs about who you are, and why and how you are in relationship to the world. And, especially, in relationship to power.

The Princess of Swords in her highest expression — the expression that is not held in the shadow of your sub- or unconscious — is the liberator. Her razor-sharp intuition and insight are as keen as the sword-blade that she uses to cut through the chains and ropes that bind her. Her youth, her rebellion, have an “out of the mouths of babes” quality to them. She is asserting her authority over herself. Hers is the embodiment of autonomy and the will and ability to fight for it.

In her shadow expression, she is the rebel for rebellion’s sake — taking an unquestioned and dogged polarised stance that binds her forever to her opponent. In which case, the bonds remain even as she believes that she has severed them.

In this three-card reading, however, the Princess of Swords’ self-liberation releases her into another world entirely: the world of Cups, and her watery counterpart.

Self confidence,” “emotional Freedom.”

The Princess of Cups epitomises bliss in its most felt form. It isn’t simply the idea of bliss; it is the feeling of bliss, which she has the confidence and freedom both to allow to flow in her, and to flow from her and into her environment. She dives through the air, arms outstretched, heart opened and exposed. The vulnerability both of her body-language and her circumstances speaks of surrender. But in this case, it isn’t a surrender to another person, idea or thing; it is a surrender to herself and to life.

Where is it that you are perhaps holding on to something so hard that you have forgotten what it is like to let go into ecstasy? Where is it that you have the ability to discern between true freedom and (self-)sabotage? Where is the part of you who sees, and knows, and is ready to speak out, take action, and free you both?

Letting go doesn’t mean letting go of everything. “Letting go” doesn’t mean letting go of any thing. What it means is letting go of what ties you down and back from who it is that you are, and the value you bring simply by being you. What is meant to stay will stay, but it will no longer define you. Who and what you are is far bigger than that.

Astrology/Elemental correspondences: Four of Disks (Sun in Capricorn), Princess of Swords (the earthy aspect of air), Princess of Cups (the earthy aspect of water)

If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article explains how to use the spread.

Reclaiming a Sexual Identity

Editor’s Note: This week’s sex-and-relationships guest-post comes from Christina Louise Dietrich, whom we’ve featured a couple of times now. You can read more of her writing at her own blog. — Amanda

By Christina Louise Dietrich

It’s a terrifying thing to consider: acquainting myself with an energy I don’t even remember possessing (before it was twisted by my father) and then reclaiming it as Me and mine. An energy that was my divine birthright, now manifested in a persona I call the Cronechild who, in her wisdom, wants so desperately to come out and play. It’s terrifying because it’s leading me to integrate my shame around things like sex and motherhood and status and identity. And power.

Christina Louise Dietrich

Christina Louise Dietrich

After a lifetime of giving her away from a position of powerlessness, convincing her other people’s desires were paramount, telling her she didn’t matter, and compressing her into a space so small and dark that she’d never see the light — I’m now beckoning her to come forward. I’m beseeching her to emerge and tell me, at long last, what she literally almost died to keep secret: what my bodily temple desires most in the world.

How I want to be touched and where. How I prefer a long slow building of energy based on what’s actually happening in my body, as opposed to imagining a fantasy about someone else’s experience and attempting to make it mine Right Fucking Now. How I require safety and an actual connection to really feel safe.

Now that I’m beginning to receive these messages attentively and compassionately, listening to her with an open heart, I realize that to some extent I’ve been able to hear her my whole life. I’d just never trusted what she had to say. I’d never before believed that I could ask for what I wanted and have anyone give it to me because what I wanted required trust and safety and a long, slow build. In a world where sex is often meted out rashly and aggressively on a whim, projected against a pornographic background of desensitized disconnection.

Trust, safety, slow…these are not sexy words according to my programming. And so, I have never believed myself to be sexy.

But the tides are turning and there’s a new Director of Messaging. Lucky for me, the person occupying that role is my husband: a man so beautiful, sensitive, courageous, and insightful that I sometimes think he’s imaginary. Because here is someone who wants to hear what Cronechild has to say and is willing to let her speak in her own time, which he ensures by guaranteeing my safety and building trust. By listening to me and going slowly.

Because he respects and honors me as a person, as a woman, as a sexual creature. Something that he has been able to do only because I did it first. Seven years ago I started the journey that has led me to this place where I actually believe I am worthy of respect, pleasure, and attention. That I don’t have to earn it by offering you my body like a piece of meat or staying small.

Seven years to really start unraveling 38 years of programming based on 5,000 years of women being sexual property.

I’m so grateful to be here with him, listening to her. Because reclamation is no small thing.


Resources

  • I Thought it Was Just Me (But It Isn’t): Making the Journey from “What Will People Think” to “I am Enough” by Brené Brown
  • Slow Sex: The Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm by Nicole Daedone
  • Sacred Pleasure: Sex, Myth, and the Politics of the Body – New Paths to Power by Riane Eisler

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Christina Louise Dietrich, a technical writer by trade, says of herself: “I write because I am claiming the voice my family and my society tried to silence, the voice that was my divine birthright. I am a woman, a mother, a feminist, a wife. I am compassionate, judgmental, loving, a bully, empathetic, obstinate, caring, rigid, and creative. I’m passionate about systems, beauty, process, experience, trees, interconnections, transitions, logistics, balance, and clarity. I manifest the Amazon, the Androgyne, and the Mother-to-be-Crone.”