Ask Christine Astrology

(I did not put her in the box of astrology books. She’s the one who decided it was a nice place for her bath.)

Happy birthday wishes to John Frawley today, May 16th, as the Sun transits past Caput Algol. Woohoo! If, after all my “Frawley says this” and “Frawley says that” all the time, you still haven’t read anything he’s written, go pick up free downloads of the first four issues of his Astrologer’s Apprentice magazine and have a look. Or poke around his website for excerpts from the magazine and more. Always worthwhile, always insightful, very much fun. Enjoy!

Four of the astrology texts I ordered from Amazon arrived yesterday afternoon, and a nice bit of reading it’s going to be. Let’s see, there’s William Ramesey’s Astrologia Restaurata from 1653… Astrological Practice of Physick by Joseph Blagrave, 1671… ooh, a modern text, Celestial Philosophy or Genethliacal Astronomy from John Worsdale writing in 1825… and Henry Coley’s Clavis Astrologiae Elimata or a Key to the Whole Art of Astrology, 1676. All of these are facsimile reprints from Kessinger Publishing, preserving the texts as they were typeset back in the day.

This last one is making me laugh as I return to Amazon to review its information page. Amazon, you probably know, lists Statistically Improbable Phrases (SIPs). For Coley, apparently Amazon merely scanned the book with some optical character recognition software. All those old-style long S letters, the ones that look like a lower-case f, have come out as f in the SIPs… eighth houfc, tenth houfc, fourth houfc, third houfc, pofited therein, being pofited, fad brown hair, tenth houfe, eighth houfe, confider alto, judge the fame, judge the contrary, fuch kind, fame nature, moft part, fuch perfons, fuch things…

Sorry. I’m probably the only one who thinks it’s funny. I’m easily amused. “Fad brown hair.” Serioufly.

What have you been reading lately?

It seems my old philosophy schoolbooks have much to teach me about astrology. I’m currently rereading On Moral Fiction by John Gardner, which was a text for a philosophy class I took long ago, and it’s given me an “aha” moment on the subway, another way to think about our three modalities: cardinal, fixed, mutable.

Gardner, talking of Tolstoy, says that “Tolstoy argues… that the ideal held up in a proper work of art comes from God, was originally revealed in action by the life of Christ the intermediary… and is passed on to all humanity by artists,” by whom he means everyone from the writers of the Bible to “the framers of folktale and parable” and so forth. “Note the scheme,” says Gardner. “From God comes the standard; it is enacted by a hero and recorded by the poet.”

Three stages: three modalities. The initiating impulse is cardinal; the enacting is fixed; the recording and describing is mutable. Aha…

Gardner goes on to say, “With the worship of Zeus substituted for Christianity, this is almost exactly Homer’s position…. What the warrior-hero does on the battlefield… shows ordinary men what the gods love.” Gardner states, “Every hero’s proper function is to provide a noble image for men to be inspired and guided by in their own actions…. And whereas the hero’s function (like the function of Tolstoy’s Christ) is to set the standard in action, the business of the poet (or ‘memory’ or ‘epic song,’ and also the business of arts other than poetry) is to celebrate the work of the hero, pass the image on, keep the heroic model of behavior fresh, generation on generation.” 

Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn: these signs show the spark of the idea, the standard of each element.
Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius: these signs show the unfolding, the standard in action, enacted.
Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces: these signs show how the message is carried forward to future generations.

Deborah Houlding has a very thorough article about Gemini - the Sun sign, the principle, its relationship to Mercury - in the new issue of The Mountain Astrologer. Reading it on the subway this morning, I was excited to see she’s included the chart of a famous Gemini musician and celebrity with more than one fixed star prominent in his nativity. The detail I love most about this guy’s chart? He’s got 29 degrees of Leo on the MC, conjunct the brightest star in the constellation of the Lion: Regulus. What does Regulus mean in Latin? “Little king.” What’s the musician’s name? Prince. Ta-daa!

A coworker came by Friday afternoon with a question she hoped astrology could answer. “I haven’t seen my silver heart bracelet since last Saturday, when I was out with friends. We went to one restaurant, then another for dessert, and then I came home. Can you help me find my bracelet?”

Chart data: May 9, 2008, 4:09pm EDT, Boston, MA. 7 Libra 11 rising, Moon at 20 Cancer 02.

(Click to enlarge the chart.)

I know astrologers who are fantastic at finding lost objects with horary. I’m not great at it. I know how it’s supposed to work; it’s just that I usually cast charts that say right off the bat, “It’s hopeless, they’ll never find it.”

In this chart, Venus as ruler of the 1st represents the querent; her co-significator is Moon in Cancer. Notice right away that the querent at 11 Taurus is combust the Sun at 19 Taurus. Lord 1 combust can mean that the querent is unable to see the object - you know, the way things can be in plain sight, you just completely overlook them. Also notice that both Sun and Moon are above the horizon; this is a positive sign, suggesting “the lights are on” and what’s lost may be found.

For a lost object, we have three options: ruler of 2nd, ruler of 4th, or “natural” ruler of the type of item. That shows us Mars (Lord 2) in Cancer in the 10th, Saturn (Lord 4) in Virgo in the 11th, or Venus (natural ruler of jewelry) in Taurus in the 8th. (It’s not a problem to have the querent and the object signified by the same planet.)

Because Lord 2, Mars, is in the Moon’s sign, and Moon rules silver, which is what the bracelet is made of, I’ve honed in on Mars as my most likely candidate. The first thing I want to know is whether there’s even a chance of recovering the object, by looking for an applying aspect between Mars and Lord 1, or Mars and Moon. I’m looking for something that shows the object returning to the querent. The problem is that there is no such connection with Mars and my coworker. Mars is at the last gasp of Cancer, at 29 Cancer 59′45″. It will change sign before Moon or Venus (my coworker’s planets) can aspect it. When an aspect is prohibited by one planet’s changing sign, that’s called frustration.

So, right away, I am pretty sure the bracelet is gone for good and my coworker won’t recover it. Bummer.

There’s something I’m curious about, though. Can I fairly say that Mars, once it changes sign, applies immediately to square the 2nd house cusp, and take that as showing the bracelet’s return to the querent’s pocket, metaphorically speaking? I know it’s a reach. Let’s imagine that I can, just for the sake of illustrating what you’d do next if you had a lost object horary on your hands.

If I can determine that the bracelet will return, then I have to describe where it is. Mars in this chart is in the 10th house. This could indicate either her work office or her home office, if she has one. It could also indicate the living room in her home.

Where exactly in this space is it? Mars at the cusp of one sign and entering another can indicate the doorway of the space. Mars in a water sign can indicate a damp space (near a fish tank?); it can also mean a comfortable space, such as a chair or sofa. Mars about to enter a fire sign can mean the bracelet is near a heater or near the walls.

What else can we see about Mars? It’s widely opposite stationary Jupiter in Capricorn. Jupiter means BIG things, royal things, expensive things, purple things. Think large, generous, spreading, proliferating; like a big climbing ivy. The opposition would tell us to look across the room from that big Jupiter thing.

So perhaps the bracelet is in her living room, wedged in a sofa cushion where she can’t see it, or between a sofa and the wall. It could be across from something big and expensive (and, I don’t know, broken or jammed, from Jupiter’s being stationary - stuck - and in its fall - poor condition).

But, again, that’s with the understanding that we are reaching for the Mars square 2nd house cusp to promise recovery. And that may not quite be practicing by the book, as I’ve said.

You can understand why these charts are the toughest ones to get right. First, if you judge “you won’t find it,” you look like you’re not even trying. Second, if you do think it can be found, you’ve got to make seven planets represent the sum of creation, and come up with a plausible description of the location from that.

So I’ll suggest to my coworker that she go through her living room carefully, focusing on the sofa. It’s worth a try, anyway.

It’s as simple as that. Professional astrologer Julie Demboski is offering speed readings (today? tomorrow, too? not forever, that’s for sure) for just US $10 per question. Click to email Julie for more information.

This is Mercury-in-Gemini swift astrology; not the time for lengthy explanations or astrology lessons. (Though I’m sure you can book a full-length reading if you prefer.)

Go ahead. The time is right. The price is, too. Ask Julie.

Jupiter’s been slowing down for the past week or so, preparing to turn retrograde on May 9th. (To correct a common astrological misunderstanding: the change from direct to retrograde motion isn’t instantaneous, like flipping a switch. It’s gradual. I always see people saying things like “Saturn just turned direct today and I feel so much better.” Okay, but it took its time getting there and it’s still moving extremely slowly, like trying to maneuver an 18-wheeler around a hairpin turn. You don’t just slam it into reverse while driving and hope for the best.)

The horary charts I’ve worked on lately all seem to pick up the Jupiter in Capricorn / Mars in Cancer opposition. It’s ugly. Jupiter is a very naughty Jupiter in Capricorn, the sign of its fall. Mars is just as mean in Cancer (and I’m still trying to understand whether and how its being in triplicity takes the edge off the fall). And they adore each other! Jupiter is in the exaltation of Mars, Mars is in the exaltation of Jupiter. So each one is a thug, palling around with another thug it thinks is the bee’s knees. The opposition shows that whatever they do won’t last, or will be utterly regrettable. For all they adore each other, their priorities, shown by the Cancer/Capricorn opposition, are completely at odds.

Just as Jupiter reaches its station around 22 Capricorn 22 on May 9th, Mars finally breaks the opposition/exaltation cycle a few hours later. Mars enters Leo sometime on May 9th. That’s when it finally drops its misguided hero worship of that nasty Jupiter. Mars will still be in Jupiter’s triplicity in night charts, so you will still see some charts where it’s friendly toward Jupiter, but it’s not that same sense of “ooh, my darling Jupiter can do no wrong (crash!).”

How might a Jupiter station in Capricorn feel? Jupiter, expansion. Capricorn, knees. Severely swollen joints, literally or metaphorically, would be my first guess. Richard Saunders in The Astrological Judgement and Practice of Physick states that “Jupiter in the last 18 degrees of Capricorn is [extremely] cold and dry… ingendring diseases of thin Melancholy, corrupting the blood, and Melancholy having the dominion, causing Diseases in the Throat, and swelling in the Jaws and Glandules.” (What’s a glandule? A gland, but smaller.)

Random thoughts as the weekend draws to a close.

• Astrology & ethics: a student of astrology writes to ask if you will join forces with him in applying astrology to solve a missing person case. The student hopes to collect a cash reward for information leading to the missing person. Would you agree to it?

• I wrote a few weeks ago about Saturn’s station in early Virgo. I mentioned, “Lodged in Virgo, the sign ruling the intestines, stationary Saturn is a tummy ache that just won’t move.” This weekend, during Saturn’s station, I visited a relative hospitalized with exactly that complaint. I’ve read in Frawley and elsewhere that second station (the one where the planet finally turns direct after being retrograde) is like an ill person getting up from his sickbed; still severely weak, but just beginning to improve. I hope so.

• A chart I was contemplating this morning had a minor fixed star, Porrima (or Caphir), on the ascendant. This is a star at about 10 Libra, appearing in the sky in the left arm of the constellation Virgo. Virgo, among other things, has been depicted as a winged angel. As I was trying to put together what Virgo’s left arm might signify, the Sarah McLachlan CD on the little stereo behind me played the song “Angel.” Lyrics? “You’re in the arms of an angel, may you find some comfort there.” Chills.

• Planning your next astrological vacation? How about Ibiza? (Stonehenge? Please. So last millennium.) In an article about a new 2009 Audi wagon, which was recently previewed on the Spanish-owned Mediterranean island, reporter Holly Reich manages to work in a nifty side note about Nostradamus. Apparently the 15th century astrologer (he of the cryptically prophetic quatrains) once predicted that Ibiza will be the only habitable place in the world once disaster wipes out the rest of our planet. I’m so there. To paraphrase Emma Goldman, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your cataclysm.”

I wasn’t going to post today, but you have to look at this. It’s so rare.

(Click to enlarge the chart.)

I ran an ordinary chart this morning on a whim of my own and sat down to look at the Moon. First remarkable thing: I asked my question just as the Moon entered Aries (0 degrees 2 minutes). Second and more remarkable thing: It’s not going to make a single Ptolemaic aspect to another classical planet all day long. In fact, it’s not going to do anything until sometime on Sunday, when it reaches the square to Jupiter at 22 Capricorn.

We all know that the unaspected time between the Moon’s last aspect and its entry into a new sign is known as void of course. But what about its time before making its first aspect? When the Moon takes, say, 15 degrees or more to aspect another planet, that’s actually a kind of void of course state, too. In life, it translates to that sense of just taking forever to muster up the energy to do whatever it is you need to do.

Taking 22-plus degrees to get around to something isn’t typical. But there’s an even more rare scenario, when the Moon can get from one end of a sign clear to the other without making a single Ptolemaic aspect. That’s called a feral Moon, as in, completely untamed. I mentioned this in that earlier post about the void of course Moon. I understand feral to mean that Nothing Gets Done, like an extreme void of course situation, but I’ve never taken the time to look for a 2.5-day period when the Moon is feral. I’m sure I’ll get around to it… eventually…

(Curious about why I put up a chart in the first place? I wondered out of the blue whether anything interesting would happen to me today. Lord 1 void of course Mercury; Moon pretty much void too; I think it’ll be pretty emphatically uneventful. Maybe I’ll go make some tea. Eh, maybe later, at the office.)

(Hey! I can hear you! “Pluto! It’s RIGHT THERE! Moon’s going to square it any second now! Aagh!” I know.)

What 17th century astrologer had horary clients lined up to consult him morning to night? Who was not just the best-selling astrology writer in England in his day, but the best-selling writer, period? Who was known as the “English Merlin” who predicted the Great Fire of London - 14 years ahead of time?

It’s William Lilly’s birthday today - sort of. I’m observing Lilly’s birthday today, May 1st, even though this isn’t the day of his actual solar return. His Sun is actually somewhere around 20 degrees of Taurus. The confusion has to do with the shift from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian one, which Great Britain adopted in 1752, moving all calendars forward about 11 days. So although Lilly is said to have been born on May 1st, 1602, in our calendars that comes out to something like May 12.

If it weren’t for William Lilly and his magnum opus, Christian Astrology, I couldn’t do the kind of astrology I practice today. As a guide to astrological practice, it has no equal. Writing in the English of his day, he distills the knowledge gained from a massive library and years upon years of practical experience so that future students like you and me might benefit.

So I’ve composed a poem in his honor. Please withhold your applause.

I used to think astrology was silly.
Then I discovered William Lilly.

If I’m asked to tell a girl, “Will he
marry me?” I turn to Lilly.

If she wants to meet a Tom, Dick, or Billy,
there is only one recourse. I read my Lilly.

Is the land you would purchase flat or hilly?
I know who can tell you. Ask Bill Lilly.

How healthy & strong is that young filly?
Horses are a 12th house matter, says Lilly.

Frawley put me through drill after drill. He
knew I would learn if I just checked Lilly.

Don’t apply what you learn willy-nilly.
Be methodical. Just like Lilly.

You say modern methods work. I say “Oh, really?
I know what does work, and its name is Lilly.”