What if all your planets are kings & queens?

Thanks to astrologer Judy Westley for showing me the unusual birth chart of modern astrologer Isabel Hickey, author of Astrology: A Cosmic Science.*

Isabel Hickey: 19 August 1903, 12:30pm, Brookline, Massachusetts, USA

Click to enlarge it if you like. Every single traditional planet is in its own domicile. That is…

• Sun is in Leo.
• Moon is in Cancer.
• Mercury is in Virgo.
• Venus has just entered Libra.
• Mars is in Scorpio, which it rules in the tradition.
• Jupiter is in Pisces, which it rules in the tradition.
• Saturn is in Aquarius, which it rules in the tradition.

To which I said, “Wow.” But what I meant was, “Whoa.”

Judy’s question is, how do you determine the Lord of the Geniture when you have so many promising candidates to choose from? Which of these planets would the native want to put in charge of the ship, piloting her soul? I know which one I would choose. Let’s have a look.

First, knowing there are so many strong choices, I’d eliminate planets in the 6th, 8th, and 12th houses. In these traditionally malefic places, planets are hard pressed to express themselves. They might be pillars of virtue by essential dignity, but they’re less able to help us if they’re accidentally imprisoned or down a well. So strike Mars (in the 12th) and Moon (in the 8th).

Next, given a choice of retrograde or direct planets, I’d prefer a direct one. Saturn and Jupiter, though highly dignified essentially, are both retrograde. They’re leading the vessel in the wrong direction. So let’s drop them from the running.

We still have Sun in the cadent 9th, Mercury in the angular 10th, and Venus in the succedent 11th. I vote for Mercury, being angular, and therefore best placed to shake what its mama gave it.** This pilot, this Lord of the Geniture, has the best combination of essential and accidental dignity of all the seven. That said, Sun is in its joy in the 9th – the house in which it is most delighted to find itself – and thus gains somewhat in accidental dignity. But I think Mercury wins the day for being angular.

But seriously, embarrassment of riches. We should all have such problems. What I wonder is how all of these planets interacted with each other in Hickey’s life. All admirals, no sailors. Plus, the receptions! Sun and Saturn can’t stand each other, being in each other’s detriment. Same with Venus and Mars. Same with Mercury and Jupiter. Moon hates Saturn but Saturn doesn’t reciprocate its animosity. There’s some exaltation among some of them: Moon exalts Jupiter, Jupiter exalts Venus, Venus exalts Saturn… but how can any one of these monarchs persuade the others that its way is best?

 

* I actually haven’t read this or any of Hickey’s work. Too 20th century for me.

** this is straight out of Ptolemy, I swear on a stack of Tetrabibli

Take a look at this natal chart.

Notice anything unusual?

Click to enlarge it. What makes it special? More commentary coming soon.

Astrology software: your recommendations, please?

I’m going to need some proper astrology software for the PC soon. Some full-featured package that’s friendly to the traditional astrologer. What do you use? Do you like it? What do you wish you’d known about it before buying?

July 29: Mercury is cazimi. Roar!

Start that autobiography, practice your French (or Italian), open up and roar! Mercury is cazimi from just after 10 am EDT to just after 10 pm EDT on Tuesday, July 29th. In other words, it’s transiting within 17 minutes of arc of the Sun, and thus highly accidentally dignified for these swift few hours. Good time for Mercurial activities of a solar/Leonine nature. So go petition a king, work on your Louis XIV impersonation, or step up on a soapbox. Don’t just sit there, say something!

Astrology… you’re soaking in it

I’ve been immersing myself in John Frawley lectures all afternoon, on loan to me on CD from a friend. (Thanks, A.!) I mean, I recognize that, with the amount of times I mention his work here, I ought to establish the “Christine hearts Frawley drinking game” on this blog.* It’s just that I learn so much from him, and his work encourages me to strive to understand bigger and more challenging philosophical concepts than I tend to entertain in my daily rounds.

This afternoon I listened to Frawley’s “Pilot of the Soul” lecture from an ISAR conference in 2003, which covers the importance of the Lord of the Geniture, touches on Homer and Shakespeare, and finishes with some comments about the seven pillars of the soul: the Part of Fortune and the parts derived from it.

The Lord of the Geniture is the planet in your natal chart which is best qualified to be in charge of your life: the one with both a decent amount of essential dignity (innate nobility) and a good accidental placement in the chart (the ability to apply its strength). I’m listening to this part of the lecture again; he’s dissuading us from leaning on the Lord of the Ascendant, that is, from being too much in the material life, unless Lord 1 is actually qualified to be Lord of the Geniture as well (“then we just try and educate it a bit”).

Why do you want to put the Lord of the Geniture in charge? Because it is the one best able to steer you to your destination, your soul’s purpose. How to activate the Lord of the Geniture? Pay it more attention. Do activities that are of its nature. If it’s Mars, go exercise; if it’s Mercury, go study. That upon which we focus our attention grows stronger. Eventually it begins to signal to the rest of the chart that you’ve put it in charge, it is now king. (What if the likely Lord of the Geniture doesn’t play well with the rest of your planets? Any hope of reconciliation, or do the others all have to be constantly dragged into cooperation like sullen teenagers?)

The seven key parts: Fortune, Spirit, Love, Despair, Captivity, Victory, Valour.  I want to give this more thought. To know if they’re activated, see if they are directly aspected by any planet in the chart (within 2-3 degrees); any planet will do, but the part’s own dispositor is best.

Much more contemplation needed on all this. So glad I don’t have to return that CD right away.

* The rules: when I mention Frawley, take a drink; when I refer you to The Real Astrology, take a drink; when I quote something from The Horary Textbook, pour a drink for the person next to you; when I babble on about “back when I studied with Frawley,” drain your glass.

Horary astrology: I screwed up at work. Will anything happen to me?

Someone close to me pinged me yesterday with an urgent request. “I was showing a colleague a website and accidentally showed her a not-safe-for-work image. I apologized profusely, but I know I screwed up. Will there be any consequences?” I agreed to look at the chart for a quick read.

Will anything happen to me at work?

(Chart data: 17 July 2008, 10:38am EDT, Boston. 25 Virgo 29 rising. Click to enlarge the chart.)

25 Virgo 29 is rising. This degree is close to a nebula called Copula, which Vivian E. Robson (The Fixed Stars & Constellations in Astrology) says causes “blindness, defective eyesight, strong passions, hindrances and disappointments.” A prominent significator or point near a nebula often shows that we can’t see clearly. And, ahem, maybe the querent shouldn’t have been showing this person this website at the office. But hindsight is what it is.

Lord 1, the querent’s significator, is Mercury, Virgo’s ruler. Mercury is also Lord 10, the job. On the plus side, Mercury is well ensconced in the 10th house, so the querent may not have to fear losing his job. It’s also ever-so-slightly dignified, being in its face. But it is also in a mute sign, a detail which may be relevant to our answer.

Moon, the querent’s co-significator, is in Capricorn in the 4th house. Not only is it in its own detriment here, but being within 8 degrees of the opposition to the Sun, it’s as weak as if it were combust. When the Moon is full, it is sated with the Sun’s light and has no strength of its own. This weakened Moon reflects the querent’s emotional stress about the situation.

Both of the querent’s significators are closely connected to Lord 7, Jupiter, significator of the querent’s colleague at work. (People on the same level as ourselves at work are 7th-house figures: peers, “other people.”) Mercury applies immediately to oppose it; Moon has just separated from conjunction with it. And this is a mean Jupiter, not a nice, jolly benefactor at all. What makes Jupiter so yucky? It’s in the sign of its fall, and also retrograde. Plus, Moon and Jupiter together in Capricorn are just a miserable couple, because they receive each other into their detriment/fall. In this mutually unfortunate reception, they can’t stand themselves or each other.

We see from the separating conjunction that the querent (Moon) and his colleague (Jupiter) have just had a less-than-positive interaction. The good news is that this is the worst it will get: Moon is already one degree separated from Jupiter and pulling away. Getting on with its life, as it were. That is what I advised the querent: if you haven’t been reprimanded yet, you won’t be.

That said, there’s still the applying Mercury/Jupiter opposition for us to consider. Mercury in Cancer exalts this Jupiter: the querent as Mercury exalts the colleague, or, more precisely, he exalts her opinion of him. But Jupiter is in no dignity or debility of Mercury: she’s indifferent to him as Mercury.

So, when the querent followed up by asking me, “Should I go apologize again?” I looked at the applying opposition and told him not to bring it up again. As I said above, his significator, Mercury, is in Cancer, a mute sign – that is, not good for talking or expressing an apology. And the opposition is the aspect of regret and separation. In short, if he moves forward toward Jupiter – if he brings the topic up again – he’ll wish he hadn’t. (I asked, and he admitted that she seemed to accept his original apology and embarrassment for what they were.)

So I hope I’ve read it correctly. The worst has already happened; further discussion with the colleague is not recommended. I hope I’m not conjunct a nebula myself.

For sale: one astrologer’s house

Frances McEvoy’s house is for sale. We drove past it tonight, my husband and I, and I glanced at it as I always do when we’re driving down that particular road. Approaching it, I had been wondering, “Which of her children will have moved his family in there, now that Frances is gone?” But instead, a post with a For Sale sign rises up out of her green lawn.

I only visited her house a few times, the last time being more than ten years ago, when I was still a member of NCGR, still a regular at the monthly Boston chapter meetings. Frances, who presided over Boston’s astrology community as president of the Boston chapter, held daytime astrology workshops in the sunroom off her living room every Wednesday. Anyone could go; you paid five dollars and stayed for hours, ten in the morning until three in the afternoon or so. Like a salon, with lunch included.

On my first visit to Frances’ sunroom, sometime in the 1990s, I was 22 or 23, a would-be astrologer looking for a mundane job and still living with my parents. As per that group’s tradition, I presented my birth data for the students to contemplate – or pick apart. Frances cast the chart on a computer, then transferred it by hand to a large pad of paper on an easel… though really she hardly needed the computer, she’d done so many charts in her long career that she could hear a birthdate and pull the key planetary placements out of her head. Then her students began their analysis: a stellium here, the Moon over there, something on an angle.

I remember talking about career options. Of course I wanted to be an astrologer, but I also knew I needed a day job. I remember saying I wanted to travel or work abroad, and Frances saying, “Well, the Peace Corps is out. No Libra would want to be that uncomfortable.” I remember them suggesting I go back to France, where I spent my junior year, to teach English. “I don’t know, it sounds too easy,” I said, hesitant. “What’s wrong with easy?” countered Frances.

Frances was a newspaper reporter by training, and constantly sought out the birth data of the famous and notorious; we’d look at those charts after analyzing those of newcomers like me. We’d break for lunch – her famous quiche with tomatoes, the only thing I ever knew her to serve – and carry on through the afternoon. Her husband sat in the next room, as I recall, not an especially kind or supportive presence. More of a shadow, or a stone; but Frances pointed to her own natal Juno and gave me the impression he was a cross she chose to bear.

I remember that first day getting a lift home from one of the students. (I didn’t own a car, and thinking back on it, I have no idea how I got to her house that day, though it must have been a combination of subway, bus, and a hike up her hill. It can’t have taken less than an hour and a half.) I remember how exhilarated I felt on the ride home, having spent a day with real astrologers and to begin to imagine myself as one of them. I was, as correctly diagnosed by another astrologer, “hooked.” I joined NCGR, even volunteering for the local chapter for a while (I was the A/V girl taping lectures and making duplicates to sell to members).

Frances passed away this past winter. On a snowy Saturday morning, the little chapel at the cemetery was packed with her students and colleagues, many of whom I recognized from her classes and from the NCGR meetings she ran until shortly before her death. All of us there to honor someone who, in her own formidable yet kind Taurus way, opened up her literal and symbolic home to so many of us.

Learning from the very best

To my delight, some very learned astrologers & students of the art have stopped by askchristine.wordpress.com recently. I’m learning a ton from their insights and thought you’d like to peek, too.

Remember those conversations about using astrology to predict death? Tom Callanan wrote with further insights about 19th century astrologer John Worsdale and his methods. “(Worsdale’s) predictive method, though tedious, is simplicity in itself,” as Tom says. Tom also corrects some errors of mine – now I know that Worsdale’s book was originally published in 1798 or 1799, and that the facsimile edition I have is a later one. And I now have the concept “part of fortune in mundo” bouncing around my head. Hmm… how do you do that, relate the PoF to the cusp of the house it’s in?

Nina Gryphon of Gryphon Astrology reassures me that it’s not impossible to read two questions from the same chart, provided the querent is genuinely interested in the outcome of both. Nina recently began posting again on her own blog. Have a look – she’s got a great interview with Deb Houlding of skyscript.co.uk up now, and some insights into the chart of the presumptive Democratic Presidential nominee (aka Barack Obama).

And Robert Currey of Equinox Astrology explains that UK astrologers will not, in fact, be required to post a disclaimer about their services. “Required” is the operative word here. Apparently the UK Consumer Protection Law doesn’t target astrologers specifically. Instead, as Robert says, “The details of the act will be determined by decisions in court.” Thanks, Robert, for the clarification.

Horary outcome: weather for my barbecue party

You’ll remember that I put up a horary chart a few weeks ago asking about the weather for my 4th of July family barbecue. (Here’s the original post if you missed it.) My prediction was “a hot summer day, but not an uncomfortable one, and not too dry.” I was right on two counts. What we actually got was surprisingly mild (comfortable) and slightly damp (not too dry) weather – but not what you’d call hot.

We woke up to rain in the morning (the Boston area has had its own monsoon season this year, with regular afternoon thunderstorms almost daily since the solstice), and I thought my prediction had gone astray. But the rain had stopped completely by 3pm, the start time of the party. We had mild temperatures and that not unpleasant hint of humidity that follows after rain. We left all the windows open for the breeze, and half our guests congregated on the back porch where we were grilling, where the fresh air was anything but oppressive. No direct sunlight, as it was overcast, but no extremes of any sort.

My thought on this outcome versus my prediction is that, since the North Node increases what it contacts and the South Node decreases, the presence of Mars on the South Node should have told me to tone down my overall forecast from “hot” to “not too hot.” Also, my notion that “Sun/Venus are also widely sextile Mars, another indication that the humidity is pleasant and not unbearable” proved true. It wasn’t prime suntan conditions, but it was utterly comfortable.

Notes for the future: I wonder if I should have considered the trine from the Moon, which is in closer orb than the wide Sun/Venus sextile? Or maybe Moon opposite Sun indicates the all-day cloud layer that never quite let the sun shine through.

“Is he the man of my life?” follow-up

My friend has sent an update on the woman asking, “Is he the man of my life?” two months before her wedding. (See original post and chart.) Apparently the wedding has been postponed for now. I hope everything works out for the client, though, considering she went to the trouble of consulting an astrologer about her relationship, she clearly had her own doubts about it.

Also, that extra-important Mercury – the planet that all her significators and her fiance’s were focused on – turned out to be a close friend who hangs out with them all the time. That was one of the possibilities I considered, as the chart’s 11th house includes intercepted Gemini, ruled by Mercury. How close is close? Mercury’s just a couple of degrees from the querent’s significators, Sun and Venus, so verrrrry close.