Saturn tends to be old-school, foot-dragging, conservative and cautious while Uranus tends toward more revolutionary, fast-moving, freedom-loving forward movement. An opposition between the two will surely cause some crackling tension in the air as the world holds its breath waiting to see which of these powerful energies [...]]]> This week’s Saturn-Uranus opposition marks, not surprisingly, big changes about.

Saturn tends to be old-school, foot-dragging, conservative and cautious while Uranus tends toward more revolutionary, fast-moving, freedom-loving forward movement. An opposition between the two will surely cause some crackling tension in the air as the world holds its breath waiting to see which of these powerful energies will win out.

Clearly, this week’s big winner on the world stage was President-elect Barack Obama (oh, how I love writing that!) and his Uranian mantra Change. The young, insightful, biracial Obama even symbolizes a new generation of energy, thought and perspective in a way that the institutional image of McCain’s Country First campaign just could not. The democratic embrace of people everywhere, of equality and justice for all, of change for the idealistic better, echoed through Obama’s campaign and sustains hope among his supporters.

However, that Saturnine element still lurks — McCain did appeal to 47% of U.S. voters, after all — and so we must not assume that Uranus has “won out” over Saturn. A Saturn ignored is a Saturn that wreaks havoc down the road: It’s the reaper, and we can only reap what we sow. More than anything, I see the Saturn-Uranus opposition as a loud call for bipartisanship going forward. We must build thoughtful, integrated and creative solutions to public problems. We must not throw out the baby with the bathwater. We must figure out ways to bring conservatives into the fold, to use the strengths of both ideologies to better our country.

And so Obama rightly said, in his acceptance speech on Tuesday night:

… to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.

McCain foreshadowed these sentiments of healing the divide and supporting one another in his gracious concession earlier that night. The need for Saturnine and Uranian energy is great, both in our personal lives and in the public sphere. We cannot live on hope and change and excitement alone, or we would spin out and burn up like Icarus. We have to take a break, look back, be cautious, conserve what works well — and, yes, jettison what does not. We have to employ both our conservative, cautious, learned side and our idealistic, humanitarian, freedom-loving excitement.

I don’t want to dampen the inspiration of this moment, but because Obama is a wise man — not a brash one — do expect some pulling back on unrealistic campaign promises. It happens every time. It’s okay. The job of a campaign is to set out the stratospheric Uranian/utopian vision. The job of a President is to implement the work in the time and space of hard reality: to employ Saturn in the service of Uranus.

A community organizer should be pretty good at that.

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* On a personal note, I suffered the loss of my hard drive during this transit, which is why I haven’t posted any new content in over a week: my sincere apologies. Catch-up is forthcoming. But irrepressible Uranus almost immediately saw an opportunity: I no longer have to worry about cleaning out old files to try and make my old machine run smoother. Uranus wiped out all that outdated Saturnine gunk for me! Hooray!

In my astrologer’s [...]]]> This morning, as we do roughly every Monday or Tuesday, a friend and I got on the phone to discuss one dream each that we’d had over the weekend. Though this morning our respective dreams were quite different, they both had the same apocalyptic feeling that seems to be pervading the whole world lately.

In my astrologer’s mind, it was the feeling of Pluto moving into Capricorn:

• In my dream, I was with a group of friends in an outdoor mall where only one store was open and operating.  We heard, and then saw, a huge, heavy military plane fly very low overhead. It looked like a stealth bomber. We watched as it slowly got lower and lower, skimming treetops and power lines, then finally crashed into the ground nearby.
• In my friend’s dream, she was with her teenage daughter on a hilltop in Los Angeles. The hill slowly gave way under their feet and came sliding down to the ground below. They were okay in the end, but the entire hill was just gone from underneath them.

Astrologers are fond of pointing out that, around the time Pluto was discovered in 1930, atomic bombs were developed and fascism and Nazism reared their heads — frightening metaphors for the kind of cataclysmic and totalitarian destruction that can be wrought by Plutonian power. Pluto breaks things down into their unseen parts, forces us to look at them and remixes them into new, unfamiliar and sometimes terrifying structures. Pluto is the life-death-rebirth cycle in all its imaginable forms.

A less truly frightening Plutonian metaphor of 1930 was the debut that year of the U.S. radio drama The Shadow – with actor Frank Readick, Jr. intoning the iconic introduction:

“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh! The Shadow knows…”

In Jungian terms, the shadow is psychological material that gains its power from the very fact that it is repressed. It’s usually repressed because it’s something we don’t want to admit about ourselves. The more we repress it, the bigger and more powerful it grows, creating projection situations where we can see it only outside of ourselves.

For example, did you ever despise someone for, say, her arrogance, only to be forced to admit that you’ve got a certain self-righteousness about you as well? Or have you ever been the President of a superpower who systematically shut down the freedoms of its own population while embarking on an international campaign for freedom in other countries? The larger and stronger the shadow grows, the greater power it has over you — precisely because you haven’t dared to look at it, to admit it exists, to confront it head-on. And the more you ignore it, the bigger ass-kicking is required to make you pay attention to it.

In the horoscope, any planet can contain shadow material, not just Pluto. But Pluto’s dynamic tends to be the archetypal shadow dynamic — the force of change through exposure of hidden powers — and its expression is generally large-scale and often scary. Yes, Pluto exists in each of our individual horoscope charts, but unless it’s touching a more personal planet in our chart, its effects tend to be wider-spread, more impersonal: across a generation, across a culture.

So we get situations like market “corrections” or terrorist attacks that force us (or should force us) to look at ourselves: Are we, as a culture, a bit too self-righteousness, say, or greedy, or giddy about imposing “freedom” on others without examining our own freedom complex? Are we really as free as we brag about being? As generous? As right?

When Pluto pulls the veil off our eyes, for example when it changes zodiac signs and highlights a different area of life anew, it can feel frightening in the extreme. The last 13 years of Pluto in Sagittarius have been marked by ubiquitous consumption, accelerating depletion of natural resources and idealism-cum-tyranny — the latter starting, I would argue, with the Taliban’s 1996 march across Afghanistan and reaching its climax with the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq.

The weaknesses in the structures that have supported these trends are now emerging from the shadows. We are experiencing the breakdowns associated with dictating our ideals in foreign lands, getting drunk on oil fields and building castles on flimsy credit.

Pluto’s movement into Capricorn highlights the reality that the old code is slowly disintegrating. What might be more frightening than that — after all, many of us would like to see regime change here in the U.S. at least — is that we don’t yet know what will come to take its place. This not-knowing can whip up an atmosphere of crisis.

The word crisis comes from the Greek krinein, meaning “to separate.” Also derived from that root are the words criminal, decree, discern, discriminate, excrement and secret: All Plutonian words in that they imply shadowy, secret or hidden elements that need to be separated, sorted and reconnected in new ways — a process that almost always implies crisis of some kind. Separation of a relationship, a limb or an atom requires careful handling in order to reconnect it or remake it or recreate it productively instead of destructively. When separation and reconnection occur, there is always the possibility of something going horribly wrong.

Like powerful military jets crashing in a calm sky and sturdy green hillsides collapsing underfoot, it is hard to imagine such apparently solid structures as markets and governments and capitalism and democracy separating into component parts and being remade in a different form. It might even be frightening to think about this happening: What crisis would ensue if we were separated from our money? If familiar government agencies and commercial storefronts disintegrate and reassemble in some other form? If oil-based energy disappears completely?

But confronting the possibility of change, and admitting where we’ve gone wrong, and remaking those institutions in the spirit of integrity and solidity may bring us together in a way that only true crisis can. Frightening as it may seem to live in this in-between period, we may someday look back at this time and think, “How did we live through that?” and then, “I’m so glad we did!”

Comment below: Have you had dreams about cataclysmic destruction lately?

Photo credits: Stealth bomber, Rose shadow

This afternoon, in gleeful anticipation of tonight’s debate, I’m checking out the birth charts of Vice Presidential candidates Joe Biden and Sarah Palin –- specifically, their abilities to translate thoughts into meaningful, convincing words, and nicely.

(Please note: My image uploader is being temperamental. I’m working [...]]]> Nothing like looking at someone’s horoscope chart to generate a little sympathy.

This afternoon, in gleeful anticipation of tonight’s debate, I’m checking out the birth charts of Vice Presidential candidates Joe Biden and Sarah Palin –- specifically, their abilities to translate thoughts into meaningful, convincing words, and nicely.

(Please note: My image uploader is being temperamental. I’m working on posting the candidates’ charts here. In the meantime, enjoy my handicapping of tonight’s debate.)

Both candidates have been accused of not being able to filter thoughts before they escape from their mouths. With Biden, the charge is usually around his long-windedness and we can certainly see from the preponderance of green lines (quincunxes and semi-sextiles) in his chart that the man has a lot on his mind. On one hand, he’d like to just sit and enjoy his thoughts. But another part of him needs to process them out with a willing audience. His tendency to go on and on is a reflection of a mental process that tries to capture many ideas at once.

It certainly doesn’t come from Mercury in Scorpio in the 12th house, which would normally keep its own counsel – though that might allow him to think on another level even as he speaks. As you listen to Biden during the debate tonight, see if you can trace these mental processes in the way he responds to questions.

For Palin, the filtering problem comes off as faltering for smart responses when she’s unscripted. Though her Moon-Mercury conjunction suggests a facility for communication, Palin’s larger chart picture suggests significant vulnerability to the environment swirling around her. That is, without clear direction from an advisor, friend or event, she appears to have little anchoring for how to respond to a situation. Her Mars-Saturn-Sun conjunction may also signal a tendency to get defensive when feeling cornered. These patterns have been painfully obvious in the clips of her interviews with Katie Couric over the last few days. Look for similar stymies in the debate tonight. When does Palin switch from eloquent to defensive?

Palin can wow audiences with prepared speeches that are paradoxically aggressive and charming: That lineup of five planets in Aquarius around the descendant, with Moon-Mercury sextile Venus, helps a lot. But the Moon-Mercury-Venus aspect is only distantly connected with Palin’s Sun – her self-awareness and, ideally, her reference point for self-expression. And the Moon is her weakest ego planet, so she may work very hard to say the right words that will appeal to the right people. But the question remains whether she herself connects with them.

Speaking of disconnect, the other criticism of Biden is that he can come off as condescending – indicated, perhaps, by his Saturn in the 7th house. Normally we associate a 7th house position with how others present themselves in your life, not how the chart native comes off to others (for that, we look to the 1st house). But on a more basic level, the 7th house is about projection: If I can’t accept a trait in myself, I’ll attribute it to you instead. And if you don’t deliver on it, then I’ll either do it myself or provoke you until you do.

In addition to Biden’s Saturn being in a prime place for this projection dynamic, and being his weakest ego planet to boot, it is also disconnected from the rest of his aspect structure – with lines only to power planets Pluto and Mars. So it’s not surprising that he still has trouble reining in his condescension. As long as he’s working from his stronger ego planets – Sun quincunx Moon, in a great position for bringing deep thinking out into the public sphere – Biden should do fine tonight. But if things get really heated, if his game is thrown off somehow, look for that condescension to come out.

Frankly, many people, myself included, found much of Palin’s RNC speech to be condescending as well. Not surprisingly, she also has Saturn in the 7th house – though unlike Biden’s, hers is, as noted above, closely aligned with her Sun and Mars. Like Biden, though, this Saturn is barely connected to the rest of her aspect structure, making her vulnerable to its unconscious expression and possibly making it hard for her to translate her thoughts into tangible self-expression. She’s not, as many have suggested, a stupid person. But her ability to give voice to her thoughts may be Palin’s great challenge. Watch tonight and see if you can tell when Palin is working from her Moon/Mercury sextile Venus (proper choice of words, beautiful expression) or from her Mars-Saturn-Sun conjunction (defensiveness or attack). See when she’s able to move her thoughts into concrete words and when she has trouble with that.

It should be an interesting night.

Yes, power.

First, our local NPR station featured an interview with two Woodbury University professors: Architecture Department Chair Norman Millar and Architecture [...]]]> In the last 24 hours, without even trying, I came across two news stories that caught me up in the Libra energy now swirling around the ether: ideas of love, beauty, partnership, seduction — and power.

Yes, power.

First, our local NPR station featured an interview with two Woodbury University professors: Architecture Department Chair Norman Millar and Architecture Professor Paulette Singley.

The topic, delectably risque, was Architecture and Seduction.

Now, let’s just be up-front about this: Libra, by no means, corners the market on seduction. There are plenty of other signs — Scorpio, for instance, or Leo — with their own unique brands of come-hither. But Libra is the quintessential sign of relationship and art, so it was intriguing to hear the two topics linked up in discussion, with nary a mention of astrology.

The discussion was a preview of a panel held last night at UCLA’s Hammer Museum, which is running an exhibition on John Lautner’s work, “Between Earth and Heaven,” through October 12th. The pair (of course!) exchanged opinions and insights about how a home could be laid out (pun intended) and accessorized to seduce a lover from front porch to kitchen to hallway to bedroom. It was agreed, for instance, that there was something very, very sexy about an open floor plan, about glass.

This struck me as very Libran: A whole environment designed not to bonk a potential bedmate over the head with garish flirtations but, instead, to evoke an atmosphere that slowly draws the lover into your embrace. Venus in Libra might be a little headier than, for example, sensual Venus in Taurus — perhaps engaging in a lively debate that stirs the passions — but it still knows how to evoke an atmosphere. After all, at its best, Libra, ruled by Venus, wants you to agree to follow her lead through the house. Where’s the fun, the challenge, in dragging you?

I drove home slowly, thoughts of a seductive house twirling about in my brain. I parked the car in the driveway, grabbed the mail from the box and slowly opened the door.

There were model train tracks on the floor, a pile of clean diapers on the easy chair and breakfast dishes still strewn on the kitchen table. The lair of a temptress this was not.

I sighed and forgot about the story. I had an evening packed with power struggles with my preschooler. I went to sleep feeling unsettled and pessimistic. When and how would these power struggles ever end? Would we ever just have fun together again? Why can’t he just do what I say?

I didn’t sleep well.

When I logged onto my e-mail this morning, another unwittingly Libran message awaited me. The same message, really, just from a different perspective. It read, in part:

When parents model the “healthy selfishness” of partnership and don’t resist their children’s narcissism, the children eventually learn that it feels good to care for others.

Today, notice all the ways in which *giving* makes you feel good, and how others feel good when you allow them to give to you. Let the line between giving and receiving dissolve. That’s the magic of partnership! (Source)

Hmmmm, indeed.Perhaps I don’t need to seduce my husband as much as I need to charm my child.

Because between the lines of the Libra impulse to compromise, agree and charm is really a question of power. As one of yesterday’s radio panelists put it, a bachelor pad is a place designed to get someone to give up a certain amount of power, to bend that person to your will, to make them want to go to bed with you.

To make them want. There is power there, no matter how much sugar you pour on it.

We often tell our child that hitting us isn’t a good way to get what he wants. Ditto whining, yelling and stomping. So why would I think anger would work well going the other direction? Last night, and many nights before, I tried to force this child to bend to my will and go to sleep before he’s ready. But Louise Huber’s seed thought for Libra goes like this:

I choose the way which leads between two great lines of force. (Source)

What way leads between the two forces, instead of toppling everyone over to one or the other? How can we move beyond either-or into a space where all boats rise, where a third alternative is viable and good? How can we acknowledge the powerful forces that snarl within each of us, but not enable them to dominate? How can we reframe our goal to be not power-over but power-with?

What would happen if we asked questions like this in public life as well as in our private lives?

Photo credits: bachelor pad, messy house, candidates