At first I balked, then I made sure it wouldn’t be a general anesthesia. “Oh, no,” the nurse said. “It’s a local, plus, you know, just a little sedation because they don’t want you to move. But you won’t be completely under.”

I changed into a robe, climbed onto a gurney and watched as a nurse poked an IV into my wrist. I have a grotesque love of watching myself get shots. The doctor came and introduced himself, then I was rolled 30 feet into the surgery room, where I flipped over, prone, onto a stationary table. Why I couldn’t have just walked in and hopped up, I don’t know. I double-checked with the anesthesiologist about the level of sedation and he assured me I wouldn’t be completely out.

As the doctor chatted with the nurse about a recent trip to Italy and the quality of gelato to be had at Whole Foods, I heard the anesthesiologist repeat, over and over, “The right side, she says. It’s the right side of the neck. The right side. We’ll do it on the right side.” I was relieved that at least one person in the room would get it correct.

The next thing I knew, I was mumbling senseless syllables and waking up, supine, back on the gurney in the room where I’d started.

“I’m surprised to be here,” I said to the nurse through a fog, without meaning to. She smiled.

I’d never been sedated before, and what surprised me wasn’t exactly that I came out of it so much as the complete and utter absence of experience during it. Usually when I awaken from a normal sleep, I have a sense of having slept: of turning, or dreaming, or grabbing covers back from Alan, or being climbed over by a groggy three-year-old. This time, there was none of that. It was utter nothingness for half an hour — though it could have been half a year for all I knew. Even the partial consciousness that exists during normal sleep was completely erased from my experience.

I think I understood, then, a little more of the horoscope’s 8th house dynamic.

Across from the 8th house, the 2nd house is where we possess things: money, valuables, values and even ourselves. It is the sphere of control over our lives, the place where we exert power over what we own, including our bodies. It is the space where we forge self-worth, self-control, self-possession.

The 8th house is exactly the opposite: It is where power, control and possession belong to others. We usually think of the 8th house as other people’s money, but that’s just a symbol of its underlying and deeply powerful dynamic: the ability of another person — including their possessions, valuables, values and motivations — to affect our lives without our consent.

In her wonderful book Archetypes of the Zodiac, Kathleen Burt describes the energy of Scorpio (the sign associated with the 8th house) through the ancient Egyptian story of Queen Isis and King Osiris. Osiris was killed by his brother, Set, who desired the throne for himself. But that was just the beginning of the story; what became of Osiris’s body after his death was the real plot. Set killed Osiris by taking possession of his body in a coffin and disposing it in the Nile River. But Isis later found the mutilated body, took possession of it, reconstructed it and, with it, became pregnant with Horus.

There is much more to the story, of course, but a major theme is the importance of trust when control is not ours. When we are not self-possessed — when others are in possession of our bodies, or our money, or even our values — we must trust them completely to do right by us. If we believe the other person isn’t trustworthy, we feel jealous, or instigate power struggles, or try to thieve or trick to regain self-possession. We want to grab our toys and hightail it back to the 2nd house.

And, whether we trust or not, if those 8th house people don’t act in a way that’s worthy of our trust, we lose: The wrong limb gets amputated, or sexual abuse occurs, or our money is used for bad loans, or grave robbers heist our belongings. When we are not in control, our possessions — our money, our valuables, our principles, our integrity — are vulnerable to pillaging.

Someone, or something, has to be in control, and if it’s not us, we tend to feel at risk. Witness the themes and dynamics of the world financial crisis: Who possesses what, anymore? Who controls decisions? How do fear, possession and trust play out between people and institutions? These themes, as Pluto (ruler of Scorpio and the 8th house) moves into Capricorn, are bouncing around world politics and economics with incredible intensity and anxiety these days.

I believe this fear of lost control is a huge element in our fear of death. Of course, when faced with the possibility of death, we fear losing connection, love and familiarity; of course we also fear not doing everything we want to do in life. But there is also a distinct fear of losing control. If we lack consciousness, movement and speech, if we cannot affect what happens around us, we simply cannot have control over anything that occurs.

When Alan and I honeymooned in Costa Rica, we climbed 60 feet up into the rainforest and strapped ourselves into harnesses so we could swing on rope lines through the canopy. I was terrified beyond belief. But the guide kept saying, “Trust the equipment. You have to trust the equipment.”

How could I? I thought. I haven’t checked it out. Maybe a possum chewed through it. Maybe lightning struck it when no one was looking. I imagined falling through the branches to the hard ground below.

But I gritted my teeth, held on and swung anyway.

It was exhilirating.

I thought, Maybe control is overrated. But just for a second.

Photo credits: Surgery, Osiris

A little brief background in how astrology sees the world: Basically, there are three types of energy — active, stable and changing. (The technical terms are cardinal, fixed and mutable.) At first glance, you’d think the goings-on in Washington were active energy — I mean, there is a lot of stuff swirling. It doesn’t get much more active than this, right?

Right — kind of.

But this morning we got news that last night’s summit of government leaders broke down into one of the wildest meetings Washington has ever seen. There were proposals and counter-proposals flying frantically back and forth, there were charges of politicizing the event with electoral politics, and at one point  Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson reportedly got down on one knee to beg the Democrats not to “blow up” his proposal.

Nothing, apparently, got done. And that’s what characterizes active energy: You put effort into a process, and out comes a product.

But there is no product out of Washington today.

That’s because the truly active phase has not yet arrived. It may — we hope — arrive this weekend. But right now our lawmakers are still in the grips of changing energy. See, the cycles of our lives, whether in government, in our private lives, in the turning of seasons, or in the lifetimes of stars, all follow this same basic pattern of energy output:

• Stable. This is where we suckle on the fruits of our labor, where life exists in a certain set way. Your relationship is good, the value of your house more or less rises, Wall Street and Washington work the way they seem always to have worked. On the positive side, it’s a luscious, comfy existence. We don’t have to bother with newness. On the negative side, it’s lazy and/or stubborn — I mean, really, who wants to get up from the couch?
• Changing. Something occurs that gets you up from the couch. It might be slow change; it might come quickly: A partner has a protracted disease or, at the other extreme, dies suddenly in an accident. Housing prices fall slowly but surely, or one surprise day the Dow Jones drops 1,000 points. If we stay on the couch, we risk being stuck in old and ineffective patterns. But when change is on the doorstep, we should not always act right away. We first need brainstorming, information, consultation, analysis, perspective and synthesis of ideas in order to prepare the way for whatever is next. Granted, sometimes this has to occur quickly. But it still must occur.
• Active. Armed with information, and perhaps even wisdom, we can move ahead with confidence — letting go of old patterns for good, working to bring about a new order. We pursue a new love interest, we find a new job, we move, we put reasonable regulations in place to prevent the next Great Depression. If we are effective in this phase, we cycle up to a new plateau of stability, where we can once again suckle on the fruits of our labor — until the next change comes.

I see the bailout debate now in a late changing stage. This is the stage, says the Huber perspective, wherein a person, an entity, a country, pours everything they have into a task. It’s like a climber who finally sees the summit he’s after. No result is yet produced — he’s still climbing, and climbing, and climbing — but the end is in sight. We can see it; we know what we want: Stability. Rest. The gorgeous view from the top. We want to get through the changing phase, the active phase, and settle Wall Street back on its couch to get fat again.

But Washington doesn’t yet seem to know how to reach that end. That’s because we first need brainstorming, information, consultation, analysis, perspective and synthesis of ideas in order to prepare the way for whatever is next. We need to complete the changing phase before we can move on to the active phase.

I have a hard time with people who won’t stop to think, to gather information, to analyze and imagine the unfolding of different scenarios. Oh, I don’t care if the question is, “What movie do you want to see?” or even, “What shall we name the baby?” But when the question is, “How shall we save this country’s economy?” or “How shall we spend $700 billion today?” — then I get a little perturbed. Future stability is put at risk when the changing phase — learning, processing, analyzing — is bowled over in the rush to action. Acting prematurely can send us right back into crisis.

Or, at the risk of sounding schoolmarmish: Haste makes waste.

Look, an old structure has been decaying for several years. An old stable phase has been changing and is now in the final throes of its death. Our leaders are scrambling to manifest its next form — to move from a changing phase to an active phase. The sense of urgency — of needing an anchor in stormy waters — is natural at this point. It could almost be no other way. But it does not have to be managed with panic, fear or — worst of all — divisiveness. It can, with the right leadership, be managed with wisdom and perspective, with vision and unity.

Hey, a girl can dream.

–

P.S. I realize that, after using the word “change” in my headline, I should probably have mentioned something about the presidential candidates’ (over?)use of that word. I plan to analyze each of their charts next week, and the subject of change will no doubt come up. So stay tuned. In the meantime, click below to comment — I’d love to know what you think!

Photo credits: Money, Couch potato, Don’t panic

The entrance of the beautiful, shining Venus into the dark, murky waters of Scorpio brings a more personal, more intimate perspective to issues of power and seduction. Whereas Venus in Libra may have tried to equivocate, compromise and create the right atmosphere for seduction, in Scorpio she becomes more forthrightly demanding, possessive and controlling. She’s done talking about abstractions and ideals. She’s finally able to admit that, as every Don Juan knows (or should!), you’re always more attractive when you talk about me.

This kind of power-seduction dance could happen anywhere — in the bedroom, at the movies, in the grocery store — but we saw it play out clearly last night in George W. Bush’s speech appealing for Americans’ support of his $700 billion bailout plan. The President made a point to personalize the financial crisis for Americans, saying that if the situation is not addressed fully and rapidly:

More banks could fail, including some in your community. The stock market would drop even more, which would reduce the value of your retirement account. The value of your home could plummet. Foreclosures would rise dramatically. And if you own a business or a farm, you would find it harder and more expensive to get credit. More businesses would close their doors, and millions of Americans could lose their jobs. Even if you have good credit history, it would be more difficult for you to get the loans you need to buy a car or send your children to college. And ultimately, our country could experience a long and painful recession. (Italics and boldface added)

The seduction here is undeniably the dark side of the Scorpionic: controlling, based in fear, based in loss. While evoking partnership in true Venusian fashion, it is clear that the speaker (not surprisingly) wants control of that partnership placed squarely in his court. So he talks about us, which makes us listen, and then rivets us further by evoking our scariest fantasies of personal catastrophe and unthinkable loss. Then he goes back to the benevolent dictator role by promising to take care of us: Don’t worry. Daddy is in control. Trust me.

The speech also can’t help but evoke the central symbol of the current crisis: money, our culture’s quintessential mechanism for self-possession, self-control, self-determination. Who has it? Who doesn’t? The beauty of a democracy is that everyone (in theory) has one vote. The beauty of capitalism is that (even more in theory) everyone has control over their money. But if we don’t have personal control over a little cash, or if we have no cash at all, then who exactly is in control of our lives? It’s one of the central things counselors tell women who are being abused in their homes: Stash a little cash away, if you can, for the time when you have to run — when you can finally take control of your own life.

It’s a paradoxical appeal, in a way. In asking us to bless his bailout package, Bush asked us to entrust power and control to him in the short-term so that we can be more assured of personal power and control in the long-term. But how do we know he will use the power for good? And how do we know we’ll get it back?

This week’s planetary positions indicate there is a key choice in response to this moment of crisis. On one hand, we could work toward a greater understanding of the crisis for the purpose of moving ahead with new structures and perspectives. (Granted, this possibly might have to allow for the total breakdown of the current system — not because of urgency but instead because the power of knowledge sometimes leads naturally to change.) Or, on the other hand, we could try to placate the situation through sweetly-phrased power-grabs and drowning the whole ugly mess in a thick, sugary coat.

Of course, a greater understanding requires more learning, more information, more data. The brevity and vagueness of Bush’s bailout plan don’t appear to support that path, at least in the short-term. That’s what really frightens me.

Look, I’m not scared of massive, systemic Plutonian breakdown and change. I believe if it comes, something else — and, optimistically, something better — will come in its place. But I don’t know that you can make the best go-forward decisions without the full scope of important information, without shining a light into the darkness. This, rather than sugar-coating a gunky swamp, is what Venus in Scorpio could really do over the next few weeks: lighten the dark.

Sure, knowing ahead of time what’s in those murky waters might still kill you, but at least you’d know enough to pack your snakebite kit.

—

P.S. This is my first foray into astrological political blogging. Please let me know what you think in the Comments section below! Should I forge ahead bravely or go back to more personal reflections? Or some combination of both?

(Photo credit)

But if your job’s on shaky ground, or you wake up disappointed that it’s any day not starting in “S,” or you harbor a vague sense that your career is hobbling along aimlessly, you’ve probably fantasized about jumping ship anyway.

And if you’re like a lot of folks, you wonder if you might be the one at the wheel of the new ship. So we’ve put together a self-assessment tool, based on the structure of the horoscope chart, to help you figure it out.

Why the Horoscope Chart?
Entrepreneurship is not for the faint of heart. It’s a daring act that, like parenthood or intimate partnership, can only be described as a complete change in lifestyle. Your resources, outlook, relationships, feelings about money, motivations, sense of time, sense of self — and much more — go through dramatic changes when you leave a regular job and start working for yourself.

So it only makes sense that we take stock of our whole lives — not just our skills, assets and price point — when we ponder jumping into the wild winds of self-employment. And any way you cut it, the horoscope chart is a useful metaphor for comprehensively assessing your life.

Developed over thousands of years through keen observation of the human psyche, the horoscope chart gives us an organized and systematic way to think about the different areas of our lives and consider how each one impacts the other. Its basic structure is a circle divided into 12 houses. The themes and arrangement of these houses alone — even without planets and signs — can spur valuable thinking about your strengths, challenges and ways of operating in different spheres of life. It also shows how different parts of life relate, so you can easily become aware of how acting in one area might affect a completely different function in your life. No other tool does that as quickly, easily and organically as the horoscope chart.

The horoscope chart brings a new perspective that’s not well captured in the typical “Do I have what it takes?” questionnaires for aspiring entrepreneurs. That’s because the chart structure gives space and consideration to all areas of life, not just your business acumen and bank account. It suggests critical questions that don’t come naturally with a narrower focus and visually shows relationships between, for example, drudgery and creativity, or assets and aspirations. It also reveals your core strengths, hang-ups and places where you might be better advised to hire out or recruit some help.

And, perhaps most importantly, it asks questions about your most closely held — even unconscious — values, assumptions and beliefs: things you might not consider before jumping off the cliff into the wild winds of self-employment. It shows you where you risk sabotaging yourself without even realizing it.

Using the horoscope chart structure as a model for self-reflection, we’ve developed Px6: Self-Assessment for Aspiring Entrepreneurs, an illuminating way for you to:

• Reflect on how your values, beliefs and assumptions will affect the way you do business.
• Measure the divergence between what you put out into the world and what you get back from it.
• Identify your best assets and biggest challenges — both tangible and not — for self-employment success.
• Figure out how you might unconsciously sabotage your business’s growth.
• Discover what you need to do to traverse the darker side of self-employment.

We’ve published the first section of Px6 on the new Tools page of our website. We’ll roll out a new section every few days until the full first edition is up.

We’d love some feedback on how you’re using it and how we might improve it — just drop us a note in the Comments section below!

I’ve already posted suggestions for music that reflects the energy of each zodiac sign (check out the post Music Through the Zodiac or our Depth Astrology Shop on Amazon) and now I’m going to add even more gift ideas each time the Sun moves into a new sign.

It’s not so much that I love stuff (oh, but I do!) as that I believe passionately that, if you’re going to give a gift, it better mean something to the recipient. I’m not such a big fan of obligatory giving. I want a gift to connect with the person, to reflect the best in him or her. But sometimes it’s hard to know where to start, especially with someone — like Libra — whose Sun sign suggests an innate love of the beautiful.

So since we’re now embraced in the arms of Libra, let’s talk about possible birthday presents for the Libra in your life.

Symbolized by the scales, Libra energy is primarily in pursuit of balance: Balance between people, balance of energy in the environment, balance of ideas or balance in terms of proportion and beauty. When things are out of balance, Libra’s scales get all wonky. We don’t want that to happen, especially during Libra’s birthday month.

So we want gifts that help keep Libra in balance: ones that cultivate beauty, sensuality and relationship; that help balance body and mind; that manifest elegance and proportion; that symbolize justice and fairness — that is, balance between people and ideas.

Check out the Libra department of our Depth Astrology Shop to find the perfect gift or just to get your juices flowing. The shop includes:

• Gift items that celebrate balance, beauty and harmony — including housewares, jewelry, accessories and personal items.
• Books on art, beauty and romance.
• DVDs of romantic comedies.
• Music featuring the harmony, balance and back-and-forth of well-paired duos.
• Even sports equipment for practicing and perfecting physical balance.

And while I’m at it, I also have to give a shout-out to my favorite new site, Etsy, for its enormous collection of beautiful handcrafted items. While there, be sure to check out:

• rustedhammer: Wooden toys, dad-made, for the baby Libra in your life.
• chickenjulie: Comfy, cozy, cute blankies and clothes for infants and toddlers.
• gruvkitty: One-of-a-kind handmade jewelry, much of it from repurposed pieces.
• babywalls: Colorful paintings for kids and grown-ups alike. This one’s my favorite.

And don’t forget to ask the Libras in your life what’s on their birthday list — Libras love to be asked!

A final hint: Look at Libra’s physical appearance and home or office environment to clue yourself in on what he or she finds beautiful. It might be different than your sense of what’s pretty!

Have something to add to our gift list? Leave your suggestions in the Comments box below.