Something finally clicked for me this week about why theft belongs in the 7th house and psychic attacks go in the 12th in horary charts. I used to think an unknown thief must be a secret attacker, and therefore goes in the 12th. That’s not correct, though. These attacks aren’t assigned to houses based on who the attacker is; they’re about the nature of the actual attack.

Theft is a 7th-house matter. You might not know who the thief is, but the harm done to you is obvious: your car stereo is missing, your bank account has been drained. That’s an open attack, so it is associated with the house opposite the first.

Psychic attacks and the like are 12th-house matters. You may be quite certain you know who is sticking pins in your effigy, but the attack itself is covert.

Among the aphorisms of Jerome Cardan is this piece of instruction to would-be astrologers:

He that would truly promote Art must insist as much on the confutation of false opinions delivered by others, as in the declaration of truth.

With that charge in mind, and realizing I’m preaching to the choir, I must say there are some statements out there in the astrology blogosphere that surely must raise doubts even in the minds of those who make them. This week I read a post by a woman who hopes to conceive with her new husband, but they’re timing their lovemaking carefully, because

we don’t want to conceive a child with Saturn retrograde, which would inevitably furnish our youngster with inferiority feelings resulting from a challenging or distant relationship with its father.*

Never mind the child’s inferiority feelings, what about poor Saturn’s feelings after reading a slur like that? It’s not Saturn’s fault a child has a difficult relationship with its father. Truly, the planets don’t stand in line like the good and the shunned fairies at the babe’s birth, waving wands and furnishing it with an inferiority complex and a parent who spends too much time at the office. The planets don’t cause anything, any more than the weatherman causes the weather.

And talk about your self-fulfilling prophecies. I can just see the scene in the maternity ward: “Don’t you want to hold the baby, George?” “What’s the use? He’s got Saturn retrograde, he probably hates me. See, he’s already crying.”

The novice astrology student can easily determine for herself whether the generalization she’s parroting about Saturn retrograde holds true. All it takes is a simple two-question poll, asked of as many people as she can round up. Question 1: what’s your birth date? (You don’t even need a time or place for this. Saturn is retrograde for more than four months of the year. Just look up the birth date in an ephemeris.) Question 2: True or false? “I had a difficult or distant relationship with my father.” Then see how the answers line up with Saturn’s direction for each person.

No one symbol in the chart means the same thing for all births. No one astrological combination is a jail sentence carved in stone.

* Paraphrased. The web is so easy to search, and my intention is to critique the astrology, not the writer.

Wherever you are, whenever you read this, at whatever level you practice or study, whenever you have time, I would love to know:

Why do you practice astrology? What’s your goal? How do you know when a reading has been successful?

Shortly after I posted Friday’s blog entry, the learned Yuzuru called me to task for accepting a question like “Does my ex have a girlfriend?” As he said in his comment,

There are a lot of astrologers who would accept this horary without any problem. I wouldn’t. I think that the right of the querent to ask questions ends when they are not related to their lives anymore.

Quite right, and if I hadn’t been so interested in helping the student understand which parts of her analysis worked and which I thought could be clarified, I might have realized that my response to her should at least have included that caveat.

What’s wrong with asking questions about third parties? Don’t we do it all the time when we wonder who’s going to win an election or a sporting event? The distinction is that those are public matters, whereas questions that pry into someone’s private life must be considered very carefully, and the motivation of the querent clearly understood. There is a difference between “does he have a girlfriend (just curious)” and “does he have a girlfriend (or will he come back to me)”: one is just idle wondering (or “gossip” as Yuzuru puts it), the other may indeed be an urgent matter for the querent deciding on a course of action.

I think that, as a student, it’s good to try your hand at all sorts of questions in the name of practice. Thinking like a traditional astrologer, reasoning through the question and assigning houses and significators, is a good mental exercise and helps you narrow in on the chart analysis when you do start accepting clients. (“Let’s see, the ex is 7th house & its ruler… is he conjunct anyone? Okay, do the receptions show he’s interested in anyone? What has his planet been doing?”)

But even if “in Nature’s infinite book of secrecy / a little I can read,” ability does not grant permission. Just because you can read the chart (or think you can), doesn’t mean you should.

Venus is turning retrograde this week and everyone’s forecasting six weeks of heartbreak. Why should that be? Reversing her course, Venus could mean…

  • getting back together with an ex
  • taking your guitar, art supplies, pottery wheel out of storage and rediscovering an art form you used to love
  • reviving a fashion from the past
  • taking an impulse purchase back to the store for a refund
  • recovering a missing work of art
  • going back to an old hairstyle that actually flatters you
  • teaching a child the songs you loved when you were little
  • finding a childhood friend on Facebook
  • finding your lost handbag
  • making a playlist of classic hits

What’s your positive spin on Venus retrograde?

Interesting question from Seeker:

Can you please tell me what the New Moon means in a horary chart?  What if the querent is hoping for a “no” answer?  What if the querent is hoping for a “yes” answer?  I’ve read it’s malefic, but what does that really mean?

I’m glad you asked. The way you phrase your question tells me a lot about how you approach your astrology. I’d like to show you a different way to think about your horary charts than simply, “This pattern means yes, this pattern means no, this is good, this is bad.”

First, what is a New Moon? Several things. One, it’s a conjunction of Moon and Sun. Two, it’s the start of a new cycle – a new lunar phase – or, if Moon is applying to Sun but hasn’t caught up yet, it’s the end of an old one. Three, it’s the Moon being combust, overpowered by the Sun. Four, it’s the Moon with zero light, a very hungry waxing Moon about to fling itself out and gather Sunlight.

Which of these is relevant depends on the question itself, and also depends on what Sun and Moon themselves represent in that horary chart.

Imagine these possible questions…

“Will I see him tonight?” If in this chart you are Moon and he is Sun, and Moon is about to conjoin Sun, then yes, your planets are getting together, thus, so will you.

“Will I see him tonight?” Now imagine you are Moon trying to aspect him as Saturn or something, but Moon conjoins Sun first: no, you won’t. Combustion is a pass-not, the end of the matter for the combusted planet in the time frame stated in the question.

“Is it a good time to buy silver?” Moon is the natural ruler of silver. Moon, being combust, is extremely weak, so silver (in this imaginary chart) is cheap. From combustion, Moon can only get better, so yes, we can expect the price of silver to improve.

“Is it a good time to try to lose weight?” Moon, as querent’s co-ruler, is conjunct Sun: Moon is as faint as can be and will only get bigger as it gains in light. If what you’re trying to do is get smaller, then no, this is not the time.

The way to read the New Moon depends on the question being asked. Astrology is not about finding the constellations “Yes” or “No” splayed across the sky; it’s not about cookbook paragraphs that excuse you from thinking for yourself. Learn to see what is really in front of you in the chart, and you will learn to answer the querent’s questions – and your own.

For a good 48 hours from Thursday evening to Saturday evening (US East Coast time) this week, the Sun and Mars will be conjunct within 17 minutes of arc. Any planet so close to the Sun is called “cazimi,” or nestled in the heart of the king. It’s an exceptional honor for any planet, empowering it with a seal of approval from the monarch to do as it will.

We’ll see this conjunction in the very middle of the fire sign Sagittarius, compounding the heat for two already hot, dry planets. Mars has no particular essential dignity in this area of Sagittarius – it has more power in the next sign, Capricorn, where it is exalted – but the Sun has dignity by triplicity in fire signs, at least by day.

Lilly says of Mars dignified, “In feats of war and courage invincible, scorning any should exceed him, subject to no reason, bold, confident, immovable, contentious, challenging all honour to themselves, valiant, lovers of war and things pertaining thereunto, hazarding himself to all perils, willingly will obey nobody, nor submit to any, a large reporter of his own acts, one that fights all things in comparison of victory, and yet of prudent behaviour in his own affairs.” In short, a soldier through and through – but as it’s cazimi, one who is true to the king, not a rogue mercenary.

How to channel this high Mars energy? As Sagittarius rules the thighs, you might limber up and burn some energy on a long run or race-walking. As it’s a double-bodied sign, try diversifying your exercise routine through multiple channels, or start circuit training that spreads the energy around and trains several areas of the body. If you’re working on being more assertive, this could be your opportunity to take your complaint to the very top, or, as Lilly advises, to be “a large reporter of your own acts” – reminding your boss of your accomplishments, for example.

Just remember: with all that fiery energy going around, be careful of getting too hot under the collar.

In the back yard of our house are three fruit trees. There’s a big pear tree that spreads over the western corner, dropping leaves and sometimes fruit on my downstairs neighbors’ car. In the northern corner, the plum tree’s putting out little purple fruits flecked with yellow. I race the squirrels for the best specimens, though sometimes the worms beat us both to the prize. Then there’s this stumpy peach-producing thing. I have no idea if its fruits are edible, but they’re there. And I did nothing special to deserve any of this summery bounty.

That’s Jupiter for you. It’s all about abundance, and grace, and optimism: this outpouring of good things, just because. Any fruit-laden tree, any leafy, spreading vine, any oak tree relentlessly spilling forth acorns, all fall under Jupiter’s jurisdiction. It’s not about Saturnian justice and reaping what you sow. (I certainly didn’t sow these trees. They were here when we bought the place. They just do what comes naturally.) It’s mercy, it’s Jove, it’s Zeus and his endless fertility. No wonder Jupiter is exalted in Cancer: cardinal water, here comes the flood.

Last night I was gazing at big shiny Jupiter, hanging just to the left of the constellation Sagittarius in the early night sky where I live. Yes, right now it’s in its fall, and it’s retrograde: but when retrograde, it’s traveling opposite the Sun, whose full-on light makes the gas giant look grander and Jupiter-ier than ever. For visual impact and sheer I-know-what-you-are stargazing delight, it’s always been my favorite cosmic neighbor.

And from Jupiter, I was able to find the whole Sagittarius constellation. It really does look a little like a teapot. And waaaaay overhead, the summer triangle: Wega, Deneb, and Altair. More good neighbors I like to wave at, this time of year.

(I wonder why Jupiter is in its fall in Capricorn? Just as Jupiter is exalted in the flood of cardinal water Cancer, then it must feel especially restricted by the single-seed imagery of cardinal earth Capricorn. Jupiter hates putting all its eggs in one basket. More eggs, more baskets, more more more!)

I didn’t mean it to happen… but I broke one of my most important rules of horary a couple of days ago. Namely…

DO NOT ACCEPT QUESTIONS ON MULTIPLE TOPICS FROM ONE QUERENT AT THE SAME TIME.

I was asking friends for seed questions for a small project I’m helping a colleague with, and when one person emailed me back with not one but TWO juicy questions (is my marriage in trouble? and when will my big career break come?), I thought, “Oh, I should really tell her to send these in separate emails.” But I didn’t, and now I’m wondering if I need to reject one question or ask her to resend or what.

What’s so bad about accepting multiple questions at once? Say you’re reading an email from a querent, and you read both (or all) of her questions within a few seconds. Then what you’ve got is one single chart for that place and time, and you’ll be stuck trying to answer two (or several) separate questions from the same chart. It’s not impossible, but it can get complicated.

Also, when the querent has multiple concerns, it can mean that they need to go back and think some more before asking. Horary astrology works on the premise that the question and its answer arise from the same moment. The more important the question is to you, and the more you really hone in on what you need to know before you ask, the better the results will be. John Frawley in The Horary Textbook remarks, “The asking of many unrelated questions suggests that none of them is the real issue. It is better to ask the querent to reflect on what is most important and then ask that.”

This doesn’t prevent querents from asking two related questions at once – for instance, “Will I get the job? Will it pay well?” or “Should I go out with X? Will he get along with my kids?” But getting a laundry list of questions is the red flag that tells you, the astrologer, to ask the querent to take some more time and focus on what they need to know.

In the end, I may attempt to read both the marriage and the career questions from the one chart I have. As I said: not impossible, just complicated. If the querent had sent the questions in separate emails, at least I could have read them at separate times, thus giving each one its own unique chart. That’s the wondrous thing about horary astrology: the chart is for the moment the astrologer understands what’s being asked. It may look like I’m imposing some free will on the situation and somehow “choosing” the chart for each question; but I find that the system works.

So now I’ll have to go see how the chart looks. I glanced at it on Friday and there’s an early degree rising. That’s one of those old-fashioned “strictures against judgment” that suggests the question is somehow premature. Maybe I can use that as my excuse to ask her to resend both, separately.

A recent comment from astrologer Jeffrey Kishner reminded me of one of the odder notions I had to wrap my head around when I first started studying old-school astrology. It’s this: the planet/house associations you’re used to making – Mars for the first house, Venus for the second house, and so on – are all wrong. Ha ha!

The ancients used only seven heavenly bodies, as you probably know. These were ordered according to their planetary spheres, based on each planet’s relative speed. The list goes from slowest to speediest:

1. Saturn
2. Jupiter
3. Mars
4. Sun
5. Venus
6. Mercury
7. Moon

Thus, the first seven houses of the chart are naturally ruled by those planets in order. Saturn, ruler of boundaries, governs our physical bodies and our entrance into life. Jupiter is all about wealth and plenty, and so is connected with the second house. Mars, natural ruler of siblings and action, is associated with the third house of brothers, sisters, and short journeys. As John Frawley explains, Mars also shows the impulse to speak, the motive behind the expression, thus the third house connection.

Sun, natural ruler of fatherhood, gets the fourth house, which in the tradition is always the house of the father. (Yep, always.) Venus finds pleasure in the fifth house, naturally associated with fun and games and entertainment and pastimes. Mercury, the servant and attendant to the Sun, is associated with the house of servants, the sixth. And the Moon, a constant reflection of the Sun’s light, connects to the reflection of the partner that is the seventh house.

What do we do with the eighth through twelfth houses? Start all over again with Saturn.

8. Saturn
9. Jupiter
10. Mars
11. Sun
12. Venus

Now Saturn who showed us into life at the first house shows us the way out through the eighth, house of death. Jupiter’s expansion takes us on the journey to the divine in the ninth house. Mars describes our action, honor, and reputation in the world through the tenth house. Sun is associated with the eleventh, house of good fortune and our greatest hopes. And Venus’s penchant for pleasure at any price leads to the dumb things we do to imprison ourselves in the twelfth.

This post borrows heavily from The Real Astrology by John Frawley. See pages 101-103 in his chapter on the houses. Then read the entire book. Highly recommended.