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!

“yesterday was an angry day for me and i had felt it bubbling up for a few days. after a fight with the SO, snapping at the Dictator, slamming the door (4 times, i kept forgetting things) i FINALLY made it out the door to school – late, beaten, angry, down. i didn’t start [...]]]> Reader Andromeda writes:

“yesterday was an angry day for me and i had felt it bubbling up for a few days. after a fight with the SO, snapping at the Dictator, slamming the door (4 times, i kept forgetting things) i FINALLY made it out the door to school – late, beaten, angry, down. i didn’t start to feel better until i spent about 5 hours in the darkroom.

“things are starting to make sense now. i suppose it would be a good time to channel all this energy into writing 2 term papers, an artist statement, do artist research, rewrite the art history essay that i completely failed, read 2 books for history, and study for 2 upcoming midterms. any planets coming into play soon that will help me from feeling completely over-whelmed?”

This certainly does sound like anger and overwhelm not just running amok, but smashing right into each other! Andromeda has external forces (her husband, her child, her school work) making lots of demands on her. At the same time, she’s getting down on herself for not managing it all perfectly. The result is anger and resentment. There are a few horoscope elements coming into play that reflect this development in Andromeda’s life.

First, her natal horoscope chart shows someone who values stability and reflection — and who needs sufficient “down time” to recharge before she has to motivate to action again. If she doesn’t get that down time, she likely starts to feel frantic and overwhelmed. This is not a natural state of being for her: Though she is by no means a slacker, she simply doesn’t thrive on constant Type A activity. It’s counterproductive.

Second, with her Age Point early in the 6th house of her natal chart, Andromeda has recently been thrust from more pleasurable life pursuits into facing the demands and realities of the world — and, at the same time, learning to cope with them. The Age Point in Aries adds a more demanding dimension to the life of someone who prefers to think and reflect before acting: The world is asking her, now, to just do it: Move, produce, create, react with little respite or reflection. That can create a sense of helpless resentment for someone who’s not used to this level of demand. Andromeda would do well to be a little selfish in this area right now: Set some boundaries and schedule some time when she need only focus on her own health and well-being. Otherwise she runs a serious risk of burnout.

Third, Andromeda’s progressed chart (which progresses the natal chart forward to show how her internal life has developed over time) shows a continued need for stability but confirms the greater level of activity she’s involved with now. It also shows that she’s putting a lot of energy into higher education and processing her experience on a deeper level — making what she learns an integral part of herself. This effort is also connected to a restlessness that is striving, but not yet finding, a strong outlet for expression.

It’s as if the productivity she’s engaging on one level wants to blossom into individuality, but the time is not yet at hand. And that can be frustrating. She should start feeling more directed with this energy after the new year — definitely by February — and its direction should become more and more clear with each coming year.

Finally, at the time of Andromeda’s question to me, Mars was (and remains) conjunct her natal Uranus, which is strong by house placement. This transit can indicate sudden intrusions, rash responses and resentfulness, not unlike those described by Andromeda in her message to me. It can also indicate an urge to unique self-expression and intense desire to go your own way — to buck authority, break the rules and forge out on your own. (It can also be an accident-prone period if a person is not aware of herself — so a time to be cautious as well.)

So I would warn Andromeda to slow down, pay attention to her surroundings and be absolutely sure that any rash decisions she makes now are either easily reversible or truly good for the long-term. This influence remains for Andromeda* until next Sunday or Monday (October 26-27), so until then she should be especially aware, and more careful than usual, of how she expresses her individuality, anger or impatience.

She could actually make use of a longer-term Jupiter transit, square her natal Pluto, to carve out time for emotional self-reflection and growth. If she is disciplined enough, she could do this on her own (that darkroom she describes could be the perfect place, if she sees it as a place for deepening instead of a place for escape); or she could seek out a wise person to be her guide. In any case, this kind of daily practice in self-reflection could be a steadying, long-term, maturing force in her life.

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*Please note: This interpretation is specific to Andromeda’s chart only. Please e-mail me if you have a question about your own chart that you’d like me to answer in my blog. Include your birth date, birth time and birth place in your message.

But first, these crows didn’t showcase the bloodletting and bodily trauma normally associated with accidental encounters with cars. [...]]]> I’ve come across two dead crows on my morning walks recently in the Los Angeles foothills. In years past I’d just shudder a bit, step aside and let the faint whiff of flying-rodent death wisp away on the breeze.

But first, these crows didn’t showcase the bloodletting and bodily trauma normally associated with accidental encounters with cars. And second, Alan had informed-slash-reminded me that mysteriously deceased birds in these parts could be indicators of West Nile Virus.

So I regretfully interrupted the obsessive ruminating I love to do on my walks and, instead, repeated to myself, for the last 10 minutes of my walk, the address where lay this morning’s particular dead bird. Neatly decapitated, if you want to know the truth. As if a polite coyote had removed the lid from the tureen to see what kind of soup was inside, then gone on his way when he saw what it was.

When I got home, I Googled, then telephoned, the state’s vector control hotline. The kind lady on the other end took my name, address and phone number, then asked the location of the dead bird, its color, its size, how long it had been there. I could hear the clickety-clack of fingertips on keyboard as I gave her all the information.

Then she said, in a foreboding yet lilting voice, “Would you be willing — ”

And I knew what she was going to say. And I wished I’d given her a different name, address, phone number so I couldn’t be reached when I hung up the phone quickly.

Which I didn’t do. I let her keep talking. ” — to take a double plastic bag — ”

No, no, no, no, no. Dammit. I knew it. It’s not that I’d never seen death before; in fact, Alan once gently reprimanded me for bringing home a dead snake from a walk. It was flat. I thought the patterns were pretty.

” — and return to the location to pick it up?”

I thought, I could say no. What were they going to do?

But I didn’t, because I am a Good Citizen. I got a certificate in sixth grade that said so.

“Ummm…sure,” I said. She gave me further instructions, and I wrote them down, even though my mind was already back at the streetside, the bird — mysteriously — in much gorier condition than when I’d left it.

When I got off the phone, I gathered a rake, a dustpan, thick rubber gloves and — not a double plastic bag, not a triple plastic bag, but, yes, a quadruple plastic bag. I threw my provisions in the back of the truck and drove the half-mile to the bird.

I left the car running and the driver’s side door open because, you know, I might have to make a quick getaway from the dead bird. I worked quickly and quietly, all business. I threw away the rubber gloves when I got home and washed my hands three times in near-scalding water.

And then I went to look at my horoscope. Because that’s what astrologers do: Feeling depressed? What’s up with Saturn in my chart? Feeling confused? What’s got my Neptune? Dead bird on the porch? Check out the 8th house!

Of course, it’s never so simple as all that.

My collaboration with today’s transits (Aries Moon transiting my 8th House in exact opposition to Uranus, sextile Mars in Aquarius in my 6th and semi-sextile Saturn on the MC) might have been less institutional, more impetuous, had I not that looming specter of Saturn perched high atop my natal chart like — well, like a crow screeching from a treetop. Were it not for that Saturn, and a couple other things like, I don’t know, my solid upbringing, I might actually have hung up on the hotline when I had the chance. Or I might have just plucked it up with my bare hands on the spot, tossed it into the nearest trash can and forgotten about it.

What I love about astrology, yet what makes it so frustrating for people who want it to be simple — A plus B must always equal winning the lottery — is that it has room for complexity, diversity and that fearsome wild beast called free will. A Moon-Mars-Uranus ambivalence figure (as the Hubers call it when an opposition, sextile and trine form a triangle) might manifest one way for me, another way for you depending on transits, progressions, other factors in the chart and things like upbringing, environment and beliefs about the self. Which, of course, are all reflected in the chart as well.

So although picking up the dead, possibly virus-infested, bird grossed me out beyond belief, I’m glad — now — that I didn’t hang up on the hotline. When Saturn gets out of balance, it’s so easy to crawl under a rock and give into fear or a sense of inadequacy. And I’ve certainly done that plenty in my life. But Saturn also comes with conscience, and with an awareness of the consequences of one’s actions.

The incidence of West Nile in L.A. County is way up from last year. There are kids in these parts, and other vulnerable folk, who just can’t put up a winning fight against it. I had to figure out a way to do what I had to do to support my conscience, distasteful as it was, instead of my disgust.

Saturn, in the Greek tradition, was called Kronos. That “Kr” element is enough to remember me to karma. Say what you will about nature taking its course — it’s just not good karma to let deadly viruses fester in your neighborhood.

And so there I was, this morning, with the rubber gloves, the quadruple plastic bag and the excessive hand-washing.

Ah! Saturn lives.

Photo credits: Crow, Flag, Telescope

Day 3: Jenny’s friend Jessica moved to L.A. about the same time I did, and came for a visit on Sunday to see her old pal. The Dragon was a little disappointed when he realized that Jessica hadn’t come to play with him. Though he mostly kept [...]]]> The Second of a Three-Part Series
Click here for Part 1

Day 3: Jenny’s friend Jessica moved to L.A. about the same time I did, and came for a visit on Sunday to see her old pal. The Dragon was a little disappointed when he realized that Jessica hadn’t come to play with him. Though he mostly kept a polite distance from the two as they caught up on each other’s lives, he punctuated their conversation with a few well-placed strategies for interacting.

First, he offered them popsicles and, when they accepted, carefully carried each one, its stick wrapped gently in a cloth napkin, to present to his guests. Next, he invited them to shoot Nerf rockets from his crossbow in the backyard and was thrilled when they agreed. Finally, when Jessica asked Jenny if she wanted to go out for lunch, the Dragon looked up at me with big eyes. “I want to go out to lunch!” he said. I had to break it to him that we wouldn’t be going. He cried as they drove away, said how much he missed them.

The Moon, ruler of Cancer, symbolizes children, feelings and relationship needs: What do we need to get from someone in order to feel secure, to feel we belong, to expect kindness to visit again? Childhood relationships give us a template for negotiating all other future relationships. The feelings we get from everyday interactions, like those the Dragon experienced on Sunday, are the feelings we ultimately expect to have throughout life: supported? rejected? appreciated? scorned? loved? hated?

It’s not saying “yes” or “no” to every request that’s important; it’s how you say “yes” or “no.” Jenny and Jessica could have sighed and rolled their eyes but said “yes” to Nerf rockets anyway. The Dragon would have caught the tone, and that’s what he would have taken in. But, the Moon strong in both of them, they didn’t respond that way. Similarly, it was okay that we couldn’t go to lunch with them, because what was important was that the Dragon felt his disappointment was an acceptable response. He was supported in it and allowed to feel it. And, when the time came, he was eased out of it, into the next moment.

The Moon is perhaps best described as a mirror. It reflects the light of the Sun: It can only give out what it receives. It can only shine in the manner it is shone upon. A child cannot generate compassion or appreciation for himself if he doesn’t learn how to by those around him.

I’m grateful for Jenny and Jessica and others around my son who understand this, instinctively.

Day 4: Jenny went to her Web 2.0 workshop and I went to work. We’re both embroiled, right now, in figuring out how to disseminate information and products we love across a worldwide electronic network of people who may or may not care.

In other words, we’re selling stuff online.

Sales has long been the domain of Mercury, ruler of Gemini, god of commerce, connections and fast talk. But these days, some Uranus stuff — ruler of Aquarius — is thrown into the mix. Mercury is no longer walking door-to-door, opening his briefcase and showing off the stuff inside. Now he requires the aid of people who know about a quirkily structured system that innovates and evolves at lightning-quick rates. He requires an Internet guru.

As quickly as we can take in the information, organize it in our minds and implement its new forms in our work, the Internet changes. This is where Uranus is truly at home: in a system that changes and innovates constantly; that keeps wriggling out from under the thumb of authorities; that serves, as best it can, the egalitarian principles of equal access, freedom of information, and opportunities for all.

The term “Web 2.0″ seems so quaint now. Surely we’re several generations past that moniker. I want to call it “Web Two-Point-Whoa.” Though, for the most part, I love its values and principles, the pace of the Internet is uncomfortable for me. Mostly, it’s too fast for my style. I’d rather roll a bit slower through my thoughts, let them dry like mud in the sun or ooze through me like water in a sponge. Internet marketing overwhelms me. Sometimes, I fantasize about an Internet for people who like to ponder sloooowly. I’d call it the Ruminet.

So in the evening, overwhelmed with information, a wakeful toddler on our hands, Jenny and I and the Dragon drove up a narrow mountain highway above the city to see the lights spread out below. I can’t help but think, facing a scene like that, about how small I am, how much I’m just one person, how many quintillions of connections are constantly being made not just on the Internet but in real life, electricity buzzing down wires, into homes, into light bulbs — on, off, on, off, on, off — and microwaves and UV rays and X-rays and all those unseen undulations connecting people with people and things and words everywhere.

And also the connections between people all over, face to face, in the dark clay huts huddled in the hills of north Africa, and in the concrete block homes braced against the Caribbean winds, and in the tall office towers rising over the megacities of East Asia, and in the burning desert heats and the pouring-down tropical rains and the silent snowfalls of elsewhere. And I always wonder what they’re saying, and how the response forms in the other’s mind, and what happens to their words when they rise up, or sink in.

And then the connections between people and plants and animals, in so many ways, and between people and images and words, and between Sun and Moon and Earth and other spheres, and between elements, and between the neurons in each individual’s mind, and between molecules and cells and atoms, and between chemicals and matter and energy.

And between what else, we don’t even know.

And we drove back down the mountain, and came home, and went to sleep, and I dreamt that Uranus himself was stealing people from my bed.

Photo credits: Crescent moon, computer, observatory view, telephone pole