How to get it wrong (to read a chart as a whole)

First part: Charts have deceiving looks. 

Second part: But the way we look at them is no better

First part: Beware of optical illusions! 


1 If several indicators are very close to one another,  the chart is likely to display the symbols next to each other, and not in front of the little lines that indicate their exact position. You may see them far away from where they really are. 


Also, you may not notice which ones are very close to each other, and which ones are more distant. Orbs matter though.   


So put on your glasses, look at the little lines!


2 On Astrodienst, the default settings are 10 degrees orb for conjunctions, oppositions, trines and squares. You will see the same coloured lines for these aspects, independently of how tight they are. 


For instance, imagine  a Moon - Mars - Saturn T-square, with Saturn at the apex. The Moon is always a big player. 

 Let’s say the Moon - Saturn square is exact, and therefore really strong, but the  Moon-Mars opposition , and the Mars - Saturn square exist with a 9 degrees orb. 


Interpreting the Moon- Mars opposition without describing the Moon Saturn square first would be the equivalent of talking about a piglet in the room, whilst ignoring there is an elephant. Your interpretations won’t impress the querent. The other way round, starting with the elephant will be spot on, and then going as far as pointing out the piglet running between the elephant’s paws will come across as the cherry on top of the cake.  


4 Some aspects may be minor but they do exist! 

In the astrodienst format, minor aspects are represented by dotted lines. Semi squares or sesqui-squares are almost invisible.  However, they may be exact to the degree or almost, and therefore more powerful than a loose major aspect. Again, put your glasses on!

Check the grid under the chart, and be prepared to calculate mentally. If Pluto is at 9 degree Scorpio and Venus at 24 degree Sagittarius, how tight is this semi square? 


5 On astrodienst, if you’re using the default settings, Chiron is shown, but without aspects. I like it this way. It’s better not to have too many lines criss-crossing a chart. Sometimes people show charts with aspects to the angles, to the nodes and to a number of asteroids as well, and the result looks like a nervous breakdown. 

However, Chiron in a strong aspect to a personal planet is a meaningful and powerful indicator. Don’t forget to notice. 


6 Another way to make too much of a big deal of a piglet whilst ignoring the elephant herd is to forget that the most powerful indicators are those that move the quickest. Look at what’s going on around the angles first, then the luminaries, then the personal planets. 

If you get excited about a Jupiter Neptune trine because it is exact, and neither Jupiter or Neptune is conjunct to an angle or a luminary, or ruler of the Ascendant, and there aren’t important placements in Sagittarius or Pisces… then, this aspect may be a big piglet, but it’s not an elephant, not even a small one.  

Maybe you’re reading a chart with piglets only? You better check before elaborating on this Jupiter Neptune trine. 

NB:  Conjunctions are the most powerful connections. After them consider tight aspects, especially the major ones. If you have a stellium, you won’t see colourful lines across the chart, but don’t downplay it. Imagine a huge blue and red spot around it. 

 




Second part. About wrong and right ways to approach a chart.

Have you already played chess? 

If yes, you have probably lost at least once because you were so excited about your attack that you forgot to pay attention to your opponent’s point of view. You were moving forward like a bulldozer. You couldn’t think of anything else. You had built a fortress to protect your king, but a side door was left open. Before you knew it, you were checkmated. 


To get it wrong with an astrological chart is very similar. Imagine.  You have identified a planet as a main player. So you dig and dig, you focus on what this planet in this sign and in this house may mean, but the deeper you dig the narrower your horizon becomes and you end up unable to get out of the hole you dug for yourself! 


I am not saying not to dig at all. Not digging is the opposite way to get it wrong! Some unstable minds  jump like fleas from one placement to the next. Oh this Venus in Leo! And it’s in the ninth house! But Mars is in Scorpio, that’s tough! In the First House, woah! Moon in Aries that’s impulsive, but opposite Saturn, sometimes it’s not! …So much about the art of getting nowhere. 

So yes, when you spot a dominant energy, dig, but not too much. A chart is made of placements and bridges between them. Bridges are aspects, or rulership relations. 

For instance, if you get so fascinated by this Uranus conjunct the MC in Aries that you immediately set up to re-read the entire book by Liz Greene’s about Uranus, you’ll end up confused. In the book you get a rich tapestry of life. So much width and depth are wonderful, we need culture and intelligence, but hours later you’ll still be wondering: what does this Uranus conjunct MC in Aries mean exactly?... 


There is no exact answer to a precise question about a particular chart in a rich tapestry…  

You need to sum up all you know to “get the vibe” as clearly as possible, and move on. 

With Uranus, there is something different. Thinking outside the box, or behaving like an outsider, an outcast or a rebel. Could be an interest in science, politics, technology or an ideology. A rejection of nature and the body maybe. 

Sometimes, with Uranus you’re just different. You may not even know why and how. You’re a weirdo. There are many kinds of weirdos… 

At some level, there is a normal way, and there is breaking away from it. Difficult to be more precise. 


With Aries, it’s easy to feel that it's likely to be a tad more extreme as it would be anyway, with a leading, pioneering or competitive strike. Both Uranus and Aries want independence and have things going their own way. It feels rather uncompromising, radical. 


Keep the question marks hanging and look around. What else? 

From this Uranus in Aries, you can spot that it is ruled by Mars, in Aries as well, conjunct the Moon, and the Moon happens to be the Ascendant ruler, making it even more important. That’s a huge focus in the tenth house, and in Aries… 


There could be a lot to say about this, but again, don’t keep stuck here.

Look around. Don’t miss that Uranus is also connected with Mercury by a square. Moreover, Mercury is also conjunct with the Ascendant, so this aspect is important like a first class elephant. Even more so if you notice that the Sun is in Gemini. Mercury rules it, is dominant and squares another dominant planet! It’s huge!   


Mercury and Uranus have common grounds: the mind, the nervous system, communications of insights, weird communications… Remember that Aries rules the head. This could be a big brain. This could be a mad one. And Mercury is intense, it’s conjunct Pluto. 


Again, don’t dig a hole so deep that the horizon disappears. Look around!  Yes, Mercury is conjunct Pluto, and Pluto conjunct the Ascendant, itself ruled by the Moon, and squaring it… Great emotional intensity here, connecting the Ascendant (the guy himself) and the tenth house (his social status). With Mum playing a part in the drama, probably. Moon also rules memory and imagination, not just Mum and emotions… 


Feel the vibe, keep the question marks hanging, keep wandering through the chart, follow its roads, cross the bridges, keep moving…  Looking at the whole architecture. Think like a spider, because it’s a web.


There is much more in this example chart of course, but you see the way to proceed. 


My last recommendation is to simply be polite with your subconscious mind and with the astrological angels that only want to help. 


Ask, let the questions hang for a while and trust.  Open a book at a random page, look through the window, forget about it and come back later. 


The chart I used as an example is John Nash’s, genius, mathematician, Nobel Prize. He also struggled with schizophrenia and believed he was communicating with extraterrestrials. 

Jean-Marc Pierson

Astrologer, storyteller, writer


Would you like to learn with me? I offer one to one classes - or small groups. How about a low cost “spontaneous reading” to try and see? 

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It's moving! How to use your Right Brain for Astrological Interpretations

If you look at the head of the ram - the symbol of Aries - the two horns seen from the front look like a V or a Y: 

♈︎

Meditating on it you may see the tree of life, or a spring, and get good inspiration from that, but if you were a shepherd watching the head of the charging ram coming up to you, you would get a much more straightforward interpretation. 

These animals are powerful; they compete with the shepherd for the leadership of the flock. 

To interpret symbols, let’s remember that life is movement. 


Don’t ask “What is this?” Ask “How is this moving?” A ram is power in action. It pushes forward and it’s too focused to care about anything else.  

Taking it from there, you can find metaphorical rams in all areas. Some emotions are like rams: anger, excitement, a shot of adrenaline… There are intellectual rams: sometimes we “attack” a problem and sometimes we have a “breakthrough”. At a social level,  the one who turns a  vague group into an efficient team is called a leader. Aries may mean the efficient team or the leader, according to cases. In the eleventh house, it’s more likely to mean the team, in the first, a leader.



A left cerebral hemisphere approach would want a list of defining characteristics. Someone born with Aries predominant in their chart should demonstrate characteristic traits or attitudes. The list is the left-hemisphere ideal, but with life, we will always come across exceptions and contradictions.



A right cerebral hemisphere approach is much more relevant to understanding symbols. Instead of starting from Aries and wondering what it may mean, let’s start from life, and wonder “How are things when they are like Aries in this context?” 



For instance, imagine a monk. You wouldn’t think of a monk as a manifestation of the energy of Aries, but if you start with the knowledge that a certain guy is a monk and that Aries is strong in his chart you will wonder what can be like Aries in the life of a monk. 

At the time of writing, I didn’t know where this example would lead - I chose Aries and monastic life as an unlikely match, at least according to the common stereotypes, to make my point. And then I remembered a funny concept, in Christian culture: the ejaculatory prayer - or ejaculation. In Christian jargon, an ejaculation is a short and intense prayer. For instance: “Thank you Lord!” or “Oh God Help me!”


The etymology of ejaculation traces back to some Latin that means “throwing a dart” - which fits the energy of Aries very well.  

So you see, you may not think spontaneously of the tendency to pray in ejaculatory style when you see Aries in a chart, even if it’s in the ninth house, but in some cases, this will be the right interpretation. 


Within the context of spiritual life, Aries will be the energy of fervour, and in a less desirable expression, fanaticism. 


Let me rewind: I was talking about Aries in religious life as an illustration of the principle of looking at life first, and seeking for how the symbols manifest in the context we are considering, rather than starting with the symbols and trying to remember lists of things they mean. We need to make more use of our right brain. 




In this way, we’ll better understand the essence of the symbols: they don’t mean anything in particular, but they mean something that is common to an infinity of particular things or rather  processes. 



Before this, I started talking about remembering that life is movement. Aries shows a ram charging. Taurus once was a small calf but it kept grazing and it put on some flesh. The Twins are talking to each other and swapping…  


Aries is only one symbol. However, as astrologers, we’re looking at whole astrological charts, and again, an astrological chart may seem like a fixed picture, because we are so conditioned to approach it in left hemisphere style and analyse its parts, but actually it is like the picture of a running horse:

If you believe it's fixed, the picture of a horse with its stretched legs suspended above the ground by no strings, doesn’t make sense. It’s supposed to conjure up the galop, the movement. 


A chart is a particular moment of the movement of the cosmic clock; if we try to see it globally and in motion, we’re closer to reality. 


Let’s be honest though: I am not able to create a mental picture of all the planets moving through the zodiac signs, at their different speed, anticlockwise, whilst the signs with the planets in them are also moving clockwise, on their way to rising, culminating or setting. This is an ideal too. However it’s possible to have glimpses. What are planets doing when they form, for instance applying or separating aspects? In what order will planets rise on the Eastern Horizon? Which will be the first one? We can look at the Sun and the Moon as a duo and take the phases of the Moon into account…   


And we can forget about it, let our right brain work subconsciously and say thank you when intuitions pop in. (It pops better when we asked)


To make the best use of our two minds - our inner twins, the left and right cerebral hemispheres- , let’s remember: 

A balanced approach is like breathing. There are two ways, and there is alternance. 


So let’s stop believing we have to breathe in more and despise breathing out as if it was being lazy. 

Sometimes we need to focus, and sometimes we need to be receptive. 

Our own balance is key. 

Jean-Marc

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Primary and Secondary Progressions

 Nowadays when we talk about "progressions" we are actually talking about "secondary progressions" because there is a more ancient technique called "primary directions". 




The fundamental idea behind this technique is the same as that of secondary progressions: there is a correspondence between the day and the year. 




The day and the year are two fundamental cycles, defined by two fundamental motions: the primary motion is the daily rotation of the earth around its axis: the Sun, the Moon, the planets and the stars seem to be moving around us, they rise, culminate and set, day after day. 




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The secondary motion is the movement of the Sun and all the  planets through the zodiac. For the Sun, it takes one year. Of course, as we know, the Earth revolves around the Sun. Seen from Earth, the Sun goes through the zodiac. 






Notice that there are 365 days in the year, and 360 degrees in the zodiac. So the Sun moves at the pace of almost exactly one degree per day. If we were children we could draw a big yellow Sun with legs walking around the zodiac; each step would measure a degree. The approximation is good enough to work as a symbol.

 

Now imagine the first day of the life of a baby. Let's say, me, as an example. I was born when Cancer was rising, more precisely the degree 22 of Cancer. Some people would say that's a killer degree but you can see I'm still  alive. The Sun was in Scorpio, degree number 12. 






During the first hours of my life, after Cancer, Leo came to rise, then Virgo, Libra, Scorpio... There was a moment when the 12th degree of Scorpio, the degree of my Sun sign, was rising. Changing my time of birth on astrodienst I could easily calculate that it would actually take 12 hours before the exact degree of my Sun came rising. 






You may find it surprising: 12 hours to get from 22 degree Cancer to 12 degree Scorpio? If the movement of the signs rising on the horizon was regular, in 12 hours, we would have seen half of the zodiac rising on the horizon! We should see Capricorn 12 hours after Cancer! 






But no, the geometry is a bit more complex, the axis of the earth is tilted, the earth doesn't revolve in perfect alignment with the zodiac; as a result there are signs that rise quicker, they are called signs of Short Ascension, it take them less than two hours to rise;  these signs are Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces, Aries, Taurus and Gemini in the Northern Hemisphere.

Pisces and Aries are the quickest. If you are Pisces or Aries Ascendant, bravo! You slipped through the narrow window!  






The signs said of Long Ascension are the other half of the zodiac, from Cancer to Sagittarius. These signs take more than two hours to rise.

 

So from 22 degree Cancer Rising to 12 degree Scorpio it took 12 hours. 

So in my case, the primary direction of my Ascendant to my Sun is useless, because in this system, one hour becomes 15 years. 






(Twenty four hours would become 360 years so you can guess that the base of this system is to make one degree correspond to one year, because the Sun moves of one degree per day through the zodiac, but three hundred and sixty degrees per day in primary motion. Primary motion is the course of the planets through the sky from Est to West during the day)






My directed Ascendant would only conjunct my natal Sun when I would be 180 year old!  - This would certainly be a time of major achievement and brilliance if I lived that long. If my Sun was in the first house, I would have had a better chance of living a major moment indicated by this technique. Same with the MC and a Sun in the 10th house. 






It's also possible to progress planets with these methods, with some added complications that I'm not going to explain here. 






 Just remember that this ancient technique was used in Hellenistic and Mediaeval Times, and, what’s most important, the idea is that what happens at the beginning of life, not only the fixed birth chart, but how the movement carries on during our first hours means something that can be translated into years of later life. 






 Secondary progressions, or simply progressions, which are much more in use nowadays, are based on this same symbolic equivalence: one day becomes one year. 





I suggest you make a little pause, flush your mind of whatever confusion may be lingering, and be merry: from now, it's going to become much easier, and also more useful. 






With secondary progressions, the positions of the planets on your, let's say, 20th day of life are the progressed positions of the planets for your 20th year. 





It is the same thinking: the small cycles - the days at the beginning of life - are a kind of miniature representation of the big cycles - the years to come. 


 

By the way let me point out that seeing  correspondences between the houses and the signs is completely consistent with this most ancient way of thinking. . The small cycle is a miniature representation of the big cycle. The year is in the day. In the year there are 12 signs, in the day there are 12 houses. So it makes complete sense to consider them as analogically related. 





Back to progressions. 


With secondary progressions, one day stands for one year. 

In fifteen days, the Sun will have run through almost exactly fifteen degrees. It's easy to calculate! 

Thus, it takes fifteen years for the progressed Sun to move half a sign forward. Thirty years per sign. As you can see, that's really slow. 





In fifteen days, the Moon will have moved through half of the zodiac and a little bit more. A Moon cycle, from New Moon to New Moon, is twenty nine days and a half. A progressed Moon cycle is twenty nine years and a half - which is roughly the same speed as Saturn's. 





The progressed New Moon - when the progressed Moon conjuncts the progressed Sun - is a very meaningful time, marking a new beginning. If you're using Astrodienst, in chart type, choose "natal and progressed Moon". You'll see where it happened in terms of sign and house, but what I find the most revealing are the dates. For me, for instance, my last progressed New Moon was towards the end of 1994 and that's at that time that I found out that I could be a good storyteller and writer, which is something that would become very important in my life. 





New starts are not always obvious, they are little seeds, but with hindsight it's possible to understand what started growing then.

 

The progressed phases of the Moon are in my view the most worthy thing to know about progressions. 





The progressed Moon, like Saturn, takes about two years and a half to travel through each sign, and on average the same time through houses. Our current mindset is more specifically focused on the themes associated with this sign and house, and possible aspects to other planets, when there are. 





In general, when checking progressed planets, the important moments are when something changes. The moments of change are when something happens.. 





That's when we notice, when we have to adapt and adjust to new conditions. Things can happen within our own psyche, usually progressions are said to be about the development of our own energies and transits are more like external conditions, but I don't agree with this view, because what's going on within ourselves and what comes from outside is so interrelated that we can't make such a clear distinction. 



In the progressed world, changes happen when the progressed planet ingresses into a new sign or house, when a progressed planet goes retrograde, or becomes direct if it was retrograde, or when it forms aspects to natal and progressed placements. 





Check if any planet changed direction during the first months of your life, if yes, at what age this moment corresponds in terms of progression. 

For aspects, take tight orbs, otherwise the timing will span over years! 

Looking at the birth chart, it's possible to guess which major aspects are likely to be formed in the months to come. 





No need to stress out and try to know everything in one go. No need to spend hours writing down all the aspects between all the planets that happened over these two or three first months of life. No need to turn our studies into a nightmare. There is too much anyway. We can just check major conjunctions that will be formed by the Sun and the Moon to get a first feel without panicking. . 





For instance, my natal Sun is on the degree 12 of Scorpio, my natal Mars on the degree 23 of Scorpio. Moving at the pace of one degree per year, my progressed Sun did conjunct my natal Mars when I was 11. Around the same time I had a transit of Pluto on my natal Moon, so we could have looked only at transits and guess times were difficult.

When we see more than one indication that something is going on, we can think that the hammer is hitting the nail insistently. There were nasty little bullies in my life at that time. 





The progressed Moon progresses at the average speed of one degree per month. Again the degree is a really meaningful unit, a month is a unit of time that comes from the length of the Moon cycles.  





So if we were children, like I said with the Sun, we could draw a Moon with legs, and she would progress at the pace of one degree per step.



Looking at our natal Moon we can guess at what time the progressed Moon will conjunct certain planets. My own progressed Moon came in conjunction with my natal Saturn when I was nine year old. I went to another school and there was a very stern teacher. 





Stephen Arroyo says that ninety per cent of what's going on in a person's life can be seen through transits.

 

So it's good to know about progressions, and especially about the progressed Moon and its phases, but it's all rather time consuming so we better prioritise and focus on the big, the obvious and the essential.






Good day or Good night! 






Jean-Marc Pierson


Margory Orr, a seasoned astrologer and author, has written a wonderful review of my book: Magical Doors.

You can read it here: https://star4cast.com/astrology-a-gateway-into-a-magical-universe/

You can also go back to my homepage (yes, you are on my website here!) and contact me for a reading, a class or an astro story.


How to read charts. Sentences with keywords. Leo Venus square Taurus Mars.

Yes it’s me, 20 years ago. I know astrology better now.

If astrology was yoga, I could say: Reading about postures is not the same as practising them! 


Astrology is mental gymnastics. We don’t need more and more information. We need to stretch our muscles. 


When you start learning, you read about placements… and you get confused. 




  • Some authors give you various possible interpretations for a single placement. They use the conditional: “People with this placement may…..” We are drowning in uncertainty!  

  • Various authors don’t tell you exactly the same things about the same placements. Sometimes they even contradict one another. 

  • Try to Google “How will a Venus conjunct Sun in Leo squared by Mars in Taurus be expressed if the Ascendant is Scorpio and the Moon in Aries?” and you’ll realise that you’re all alone with the task of putting all the pieces together.





I propose two methods. One is powerful, easy, efficient but not as subtle as Pisces Mercuries could wish.


The other is subtle, results can’t be granted but it opens the door to intuition and can be, at times, downright magical. In this post, I’ll introduce the first method, based on keywords. 



Keywords are simplifications. Symbols are pictures for a reason. Now keywords are powerful. Just don’t turn them into dogmas.  


You pick keywords associated with the various symbols and you make sentences that make sense.  It’s a good game. It can be played with other students and you don’t even realise you're doing homework. Introverts can play on their own. 


For instance: 


Venus in Leo square Mars in Taurus. 


This person loves (Venus) being seen (Leo) but (square) acts (Mars) like a bull in a China shop (Taurus). 


Bull in the China shop is not a standard keyword for Taurus, but in this context, it wants to be there! Mars is in exile in Taurus, add a square to the exile, especially from Venus, and the outcome is likely to be somewhat awkward. 



This person loves  (Venus)  being seen (Leo) but acts (Mars) with conspicuous (Leo) greed (Taurus when squared)


Notice that the key words may slide along the aspect lines. 


This person values (Venus) art, fun, and glory (Leo) but (square) goes for (Mars) material security (Taurus) 

Or 

This person loves (Venus) art and creativity (Leo) and can’t (square to Mars) get security (Taurus) 

Or

This man desires (Mars-Venus) a high maintenance (Leo) woman (Venus) and can’t get no (square) satisfaction (Taurus) 



I wanted to say YES (Venus) but (square)  I said NO (Mars) 

(Sometimes, forgetting about the signs helps)

Singing (Taurus) is an energetic (Mars)  performing (Leo) art (Venus) - Don’t be too loud though (square) 


Desires (Mars-Venus) conflict (square). 


Sometimes, people in our life become actors of energies in our own chart. Sometimes we swap roles according to circumstances… 


To assert (Mars) good taste, hard work and common sense (Taurus) doesn’t work (square) when you bond with (Venus) a bling bling party animal (squared Leo) 



Go get (Mars)  the goods (Taurus) for Venus (she rules Taurus) but (square) luxury (Leo) items (Taurus) cost too much (square) money (Taurus)



We could go on and on… but if we play this game with friends, we better limit the time. 


Nothing will prevent the players from sharing the fantastic lines that may come up after the time is up during the next meal. (Imagine an astrology  retreat, a swimming pool, palm trees and good laughs…)



Next level: add the houses. We could have started with the planets in houses and added the signs next. Changing the order can help bring up new ideas. 


Venus conjunct Sun in Leo and the tenth house square Mars in Taurus and the seventh house. The Ascendant is Scorpio. 


This person is a socialite. 

Socialite: definition: a person who is well known (10th house, Leo) in fashionable (Venus, Leo) society (Venus, 10th house)  and is fond of (Venus) social activities (Venus) and entertainment (Leo).


But (square) 


This person is a drama queen! (Venus afflicted in Leo) 

She always argues (square, Mars) with her partner (seventh House) who has a reputation (10th house is connected with Mars through the square) of being violent (Mars afflicted), possessive (Taurus) and wasteful (Mars afflicted in Taurus) 


However, nobody knows what’s really going on behind closed doors (Scorpio Ascendant). They must get on very well in bed (Mars, ruler of the Scorpio Ascendant, in Taurus and the seventh house) to be obsessively (Scorpio) addicted to each other (Scorpio, seventh house). Drag me to hell! 


It’s better to play with imaginary charts for a start: not being anxious about being right or wrong, we can relax and be creative.



In spite of the various possible interpretations, the underlying archetypal pattern remains the same. Playing will develop our intuition of the archetypal realm. 


In a future post, I’ll talk about the other method I suggest, which consists of combining pictures instead of keywords. 


Have fun! 

Jean-Marc Pierson

If you feel like learning with me, I offer one to one or very small group online classes. You may have guessed that there are plans (eleventh house) of organizing retreats. Watch this space!

In the meantime, you’ll find plenty of keywords and key ideas in Magical Doors.






Should we forget Mercury? Mercury in Pisces

Just another magical door…

We often mention the big three as the main indicators: the Sun, the Moon and the Ascendant, with its ruler, aka “Chart Ruler”. 


The Sun and the Moon are the King and the Queen, the Chart Ruler is their Prime Minister.


I have never heard anyone make a big fuss of Mercury, unless Mercury happens to hold a special position as Chart Ruler for instance, or as a dominant planet. 


It’s absolutely normal actually. Mercury is a servant. When you go to the restaurant, the waiter is supposed to be there when you need them and to disappear into the background when you don’t. At home, as long as everything is working, you don’t think of the electrician or the plumber; your life doesn’t revolve around the cables and the pipes. 


Same with Mercury in the chart. Its best role is to remain invisible. 


(Please keep in mind that what I am describing in terms of outer life is also a metaphorical description of how the energies combine within ourselves. As within so without and vice versa.) 


The Gemini side of Mercury’s role is to connect, interpret, translate, pass messages etc. It’s a plumber or an electrician “in the air” so to speak. Words are pipes in which meaning flows. 


If you read Dostoevsky you know the author: it’s Dostoevsky. The ideal translator gives you Dostoevsky in your own language. He himself is transparent. You can forget you don’t understand Russian. 

The author himself disappears behind the world he describes. You don’t read Dostoevsky to learn about his health, but to be told a good story about life and people. 

Mercury wants to be invisible. But this of course is an ideal. A translation may be better than another. Various translations may have various qualities: one may stick closely to the original, but the style suffers. Another one is really delightful to read - but at times betrays the intention of the author. One may evoke the feelings of the characters wonderfully, and be rather approximative when it comes to facts… You see where I am coming. 

In the chart, the co-authors are the Sun, the Moon and the other planets. Mercury gives them a voice. Its Virgo side gives them hands.  



You’re going to tell me: “Wait! Donald Trump and Boris Johnson are Gemini! They are not of the discreet kind, if you ask me!” 

We should never confuse energies and people. 

Nobody, not even Boris Johnson, is a pure Gemini. Gemini is an energy that facilitates. If you mix ninety nine per cent of Gemini powder and one percent of sand, this one per cent is going to benefit from such a power of communication that it will make you believe that this grain of sand is a Great Oasis in the middle of the Sahara, with caravans of camels coming and going, and storytellers to entertain one thousand and one nights. You will be talked into the Oriental Magic. When it works well, you don’t see that it’s mostly Gemini powder.


Ideally, Mercury should be odourless and colourless. In reality, intermediaries and servants twist the messages and carry out orders in their own style. If you know how to speak to the receptionist, you increase your chances to meet the boss. 



The Ascendant is also an intermediary: it is the interface between the inner and outer worlds. In traditional astrology, the First House is where Mercury rejoices.  


To explore Mercury’s role further, an example is the clearest way to go. I’m thinking of someone who has Gemini Rising and Mercury in Pisces. 

 

As Ascendant ruler, Mercury becomes a Very Important Planet. The translator or the interpreter are supposed to be as invisible as possible… except when the time comes that we need them! 


Gemini Risings play a role of connector and facilitator in their environment, and within their own mind. You may go to them for information and news. If you’re not too quick, they will come to you. 


So here is Mercury coming forward and greeting you in Pisces style. She says Hello and you feel an atmosphere. With some people, you need to break the ice. With Mercury in Pisces, the ice melts effortlessly. You get a feeling similar to a cat rubbing its head on your leg. It’s sweet. You try to grab the animal and it escapes. But then it comes back. The boundaries are not too clear, and may change from a moment to the next. You need to feel to know what’s going on. It’s mutable energy all the way down.


André Barbault says there are two types of Gemini, one moving around with his thinking, the other with his sensitivity. Mercury in Pisces will incline the Gemini Rising to express as the latter type. It has what it takes to flirt around if in the mood.  

A Gemini Rising with a solid Mercury in Capricorn would be much more formal, in whatever codes apply. You would be clearly shown how things work.  


Mercury in Pisces feels you. You may not know you’ve been communicating your own psychic atmosphere. The cat may sit on your lap, stay in the room or disappear. It looks like the guardian of an Egyptian temple. You’ve got a message from the Gods. Don’t be stupid, understand without being told.

Mercury in Pisces can talk though. It may love to picture what it’s telling you with sensitivity. It may sing songs and write poetry. Mercury is said to be in exile in Pisces. Poetry is the art of using words to evoke what can’t be said with words, which is precisely the world of Pisces. A planet in exile is confronted with a challenge to its own nature. But it’s not doomed. It might succeed!

I know a Gemini Mercury who spent most of her professional life translating scientific texts. It’s not an easy job, but it’s much more like home for Mercury. 


Mercury’s analytical tendencies are challenged in a fluid world. It’s easy to know the difference between a blue pill and a red pill, but what if you get an infinite variety of shades of violet and so many pills scattered on the floor? 


Listen to the intonations of a voice, observe the non verbal cues when someone is speaking… What do they convey exactly? Mercury in Pisces knows, and it may be able to interpret your dreams. At least they may understand them.


Exploring the beautiful potential of a placement shouldn’t make us forget that if the placement suffers from difficult squares or oppositions, is ruled by a planet who is itself challenged, rules over planets with issues… we may get the flaws instead of the qualities, until the lessons are learned. Instead of poetry we may get nonsense, sentimentality, suggestibility, confusion. The double nature of Gemini combined with the double nature of Pisces may become somehow incoherent. Feelings may pretend to be logic, and two plus two may be five after all. 


But no worries, lessons are there to be learned. 



If we were reading a whole chart, the next question would be: what is this Pisces Mercury, in charge of interpreting?


The urge to take action and get things moving forward of an Aries Sun in the tenth house? Such a Sun is likely to give orders, how will a Pisces Mercury tell you that you’ve got to do as you are told? And what if it’s an Aquarius Sun, with great ideas to share with you in the seventh house, how will Mercury in Pisces interpret them? What is there is a Libra Moon in the mix, with a diplomatic but non negotiable need for fairness? 


But these are other stories…  

Jean-Marc 

On this blog, you can find a special post: How to read a chart as a whole.

I crammed twenty pages with essential principles and illustrations to explain as clearly as possible, and hopefully be entertaining. 

And you may know already, but for those who find out my website for the first time, I have written about Magical Doors.

Check the homepage to know more about it. 





 

 



Moon in Aquarius

I have been studying a chart where Cancer is Rising and the Moon is in Aquarius. 


As a rule, the Moon is always one of the top indicators. She is the Queen.

As another rule, the ruler of the Rising sign is also very important. It’s the Prime Minister so to speak.

 Mama Mia! For Cancer Risings, the Moon holds the two functions! Don’t ignore the Sun, but ignore such a Moon even less!

How can I picture an Aquarius Moon? 



When a planet is in a sign, it doesn’t become another planet. Even in Aquarius, the Moon is the Moon, and what it means is a Moon thing.


With the Moon we often talk about cocoons, homes, roots, burrows, places of safety where moms take care of children, and in Aquarius, the sign ruled by Uranus, God of the Sky, the Moon might well be a nest. 





Traditionally Saturn rules Aquarius. It opposes the Sun, ruler of Leo. Nature is the Great Metaphor that holds the door to Spirit. What is able to obscure the Sun and cast shadows? A big dark cloud. A water bearer. An Aquarius.



As a child, I used to wonder why birds build their nests without a roof. Chicks are safe from below, but when it rains, they get drenched. If there is a storm, they feel it to the full. That’s how birds live. They can’t go knock at the foxes’ door to ask for shelter. The little chicks live under the big wide sky, soaking in immensity. As they grow, they train flapping their wings on the edge of the nest, preparing themselves for the big jump. 



How do these images translate in terms of human life, for someone who has Cancer Rising and the Moon in Aquarius?

I belong to the Placidus tribe: for me, an Aquarius Moon in a Cancer Rising chart is not necessarily in the eighth house; it may be in the ninth and be born to be alive and migrate, or in the seventh and be born to fly along with their mate without being able to hold hands whilst doing so.

However a good deal of Aquarius Moons in Cancer Rising charts will be in the eighth house, which is fitting to the sign of thunderstorms and flashes of lightning disturbing suddenly the peace of wide blue skies or starry nights. 



In his “Traité Pratique d’astrologie” André Barbault, who had the Sun, Moon and Jupiter in Libra, describes the psychology of the signs as dialectics between two types.

 

About Aquarius, he tells us that one type is the wise type, detached, taking some distance from down to earth reality and the world of instincts, loving clarity, ideas and ideals; to the extreme it may even be completely spaced out… the other type is the adventurous type, the eccentric, the rebel, who lives in a state of high tension. It’s the one who plans to steal Fire from the Gods, for the benefit of humanity. The first type loves humanity as well, but would rather suggest meditation. 





Following my own thread of the birds in the nest and the weather forecast, I would call these two kinds the Great Blue Sky Type and the Thunderstorm type; I would expect an Aquarius Moon in the eighth house to belong to the storm, especially if there are tense aspects to the Moon or other placements in the chart, like a Scorpio Sun for instance.


In human life, such storms may be arguments between the parents, separation, divorce, fight over questions of money and custody, sudden loss of loved ones (“Child, they are in Heaven now”), it can be falling from the nest, not finding the strength to fly with one’s own wings, or maybe too much space, too much freedom at an age when we need to feel contained, held, supported and given boundaries… 


It may mean being exposed to anything that is too wide, too open, too unpredictable for a child to feel safe. Finding about porn on the internet at the age of five, becoming aware that Mother Earth and the climate are dangerously changing at six, or being suggested that you may not be a girl after all at seven are possible illustrations; human madness is not limited to nowadays creativity…


Now, what if this Moon in Aquarius and the eighth house was a happy one? Even in the eighth house, it may enjoy the benefit of harmonious aspects and the chart all around it may be full of happy promises. No challenge means doom anyway. 


A Moon in Aquarius could be a home full of friends, a family well integrated in the community, a flock of birds, an uncle who is an inventor, exciting holiday camps, open minded parents, intellectual opportunities… and, for the eighth house, a natural perception of otherworldly realities, transparent friends, choirs of angels, animal spirits, telepathic communications, the ability to fly out of the physical body... Why not? One day we will get there. 



This was my way to follow the thread for today. 

Symbols are magical doors. Another day, you may come across a Moon in Aquarius in a chart, go for a walk to empty your head and daydream, and find another thread, which may, for instance, emphasise more the community and future oriented traits of Aquarius, and start with Mother rather than home. Enjoy the flight! 

Jean-Marc

Margory Orr, a seasoned astrologer and author, has written a wonderful review of my book: Magical Doors.

You can read it here: https://star4cast.com/astrology-a-gateway-into-a-magical-universe/

You can also go back to my homepage (yes, you are on my website here!) and contact me for a reading, a class or an astro story.

Self or ego? What is the Ascendant?

The Sun is said to be the ego. The first house, defined by the Ascendant, is called the “House of Self.”

What is ego? For some people on a spiritual path, the “ego” is the obstacle. I don’t agree with this negative definition. In a psychological sense, the ego is simply our sense of identity, our sense of self. The symbol for the Sun is the dot at the centre of a circle and is one of the most powerful symbols. With this image, we can see the self at the centre.

Since both the Sun and Ascendant are connected to our sense of self, is there some sort of competition between the two?

Liz Greene says that it’s not possible to practice astrology without a philosophy. My philosophy is captured in a basic metaphysical statement: “We are spirits in the material world. The body is our vehicle.”

Since we are spirits, our natural environment is the spiritual world. When we are in the spiritual world, we have no birth chart, no Sun sign, and no Ascendant. The material world is life as we know it on Earth, where we live wearing bodies of flesh, surrounded with the natural world and human society. I believe we regularly reincarnate, and with my underlying philosophy and belief, I have imagined a metaphor. I visualize visiting the bottom of the sea — representative of life on earth and the material world. And the Ascendant, our body, is a submarine, and the Sun, who we really are at the core, our spirit, is the driver.

Imagine you’re planning to visit the bottom of the sea to see the beautiful fish. The sea is very deep, and you can’t go just as you are. There is lots of pressure deep down and you won’t be able to breathe. You need a vessel of some kind — so, you embark in a small one, a submarine.

When you reach the bottom of the sea, there are already many other submarines traveling about. Some, like you, are there to chase and enjoy the fish while others are there to study the ocean floor and the underwater rocks. Others are there to test the new submarine technology, while others are there to control the traffic.

You know that you are you and not a submarine. But to others, you appear as just another submarine. They see the colour and the shape of your submarine. They see your driving style. They see that your submarine gets very excited when there are fish, but that you don’t care much for rocks. You are not a submarine, but that is what the others see. You may even identify with your submarine personality so strongly that you forget life exists outside a submarine — that you are a spirit and there is a whole world beyond what is around you.

Now this may sound very like the Cartesian notion of the ghost in the machine, so please don’t forget that this is just a metaphor. Our bodies are not machines. Body, mind, and spirit are much more deeply intertwined than that. I would rather think of our bodies as extensions of ourselves rather than mere containers. But, hopefully the metaphor is good enough for my point. One day the body dies, and yet we survive. Once the submarine dies, our driving style — our incarnated personality — disappears as well.

This is how I understand the Ascendant and the first house. It is our “incarnated personality.” My view is consistent with what we know about houses: they are about the most material expression of energies. The Ascendant, Descendant, MC, and IC form what astrological tradition calls the Cross of Matter.

The way the submarine behaves at the bottom of the sea is an expression of the intentions of the driver. The submarine is not just a “mask” that hides the authentic being within. There are various types of submarines. In my own chart, Cancer is rising, a very sensitive sign. My submarine carries cameras, probes, and antennae. I’m able to sense the environment with great accuracy. This also makes me somewhat fragile. Please don’t shout in my sonar! I’m here to detect subtle vibrations.

I am driving this Cancerian type of submarine on a Scorpio expedition: my Sun placement. The purpose of this incarnation has something to do with confronting intense emotions, exploring the unconscious side of the mind, and other such matters. If my Sun were Scorpio and my Ascendant were Sagittarius, I would have a thicker skin; and I would confront intense emotions as an adventurer, stepping out of my comfort zone. With Cancer rising, the intensity comes to my home. I’m more like a scorpion hiding under a rock.

We usually say that the Ascendant is how we appear. Words are tricky. To appear means “to look like” — but it doesn’t only mean this. To appear means “to become visible.” The Sun becomes visible in the morning on the eastern horizon. Everything that rises appears in the east. We are spiritual beings. Spirits are invisible. We become visible thanks to our physical body. That’s our Ascendant.

We appeared for the first time when we were born. Planets conjunct to the Ascendant give indications about how we were born. People with Pluto on the Ascendant often had a difficult birth. It felt like a life or death moment. People with Saturn on the Ascendant may well have felt stuck from the start. If it were Jupiter or Venus, the birth experience was most probably far more easy going.

Psychological studies have shown that there is a correlation between how birth happened and how well people do later in life. First impressions and first moments always have a great impact. We appear not only as our body, but also through our behaviour, which is on the surface. If I’m being polite towards you, it’s behaviour. You can see that I’m being polite, but you don’t know why. Maybe I am a complete hypocrite. Maybe I am polite because I have something to sell and it would be foolish to be rude. Maybe I just wish to avoid trouble. But maybe I am genuinely treating you politely because I do respect and love you. What comes up to the surface may come from the depth of my heart. But, if I am a hypocrite or if I am playing poker, then I am using the Ascendant as a mask. We have this choice.

I’ve seen videos where psychologists analyse video recordings of people who are lying like, for instance, politicians. I am not saying that all politicians are lying, but surely some do at times. Looking closely, psychologists can see that the body language of liars betrays them. There are subtle clues. Everything comes up to the surface actually, in more or less obvious ways. However, even if everything comes to the surface, we are not able to show ourselves as we are deep within. We can’t expect people to plug themselves directly into us and perceive our soul with absolute clarity. Maybe a very gifted psychic can do that, but surely not every lover can.

The alternative to being psychically perceived is to express ourselves. Self-expression: this is what the Sun’s mission is. To ex-press literally means to push out. We need to be creative to express our inner spirit. The Ascendant is the way out. For instance, I just imagined a picture book with little submarines of various colours and shapes interacting at the bottom of the ocean. Even a child could understand what I mean, that’s my Cancer Ascendant.

Metaphors are always approximations for the sake of clarity. The Sun is also the central power, so you may imagine the driver of the submarine as being the power generator. Body, mind, and spirit are intimately connected.

I hope I have given you a few keys to imaginatively interpret your Sun–Ascendant combination.

Jean-Marc

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