This blog now has its own Facebook Page, where I publish all kinds of astrological stuff – blogs, videos and articles from leading astrologers for instance  – in fact anything astrological which takes my fancy and I think might interest YOU, dear reader. Do go over, visit for a while, leave a Like or even better, a comment. See you there!

Neptune goes direct: a tale of renewing meditation and returning angels…

The mysterious, mystical planet Neptune turned direct two days ago, on Wednesday 18th November 2015, continuing its long, slow drift through its own sign of Pisces.

Since Neptune’s retrograde turn in June this year, I have been feeling a pull back towards some form of meditation practice: Neptune is still in my Sixth house, playing with the 9 Pisces Descendant, squaring Saturn in the Fourth house. I have been feeling a need to create more of a still centre for myself in the swirling, at times painful turbulence of our extended family life at this particular time.

I’ve always found Saturn/Neptune aspects especially difficult. Some of us are better than others at dancing on a wobbly board suspended over the long drop into chaos! However, as always when the great planetary archetypes combine, the level at which we engage with the combination through our individual birth charts always carries a challenge to become more self-aware, more constructive in our engagement with the areas of life highlighted.

I attended a few drop-in lunchtime meditation sessions at the Buddhist centre round the corner from my office – but found the balance between irritatingly cheerful homily and actual time to meditate not to my liking… then, the day after Neptune went direct, on an impulse I decided to sit in on a guided meditation session in our local Episcopal Cathedral, led really skilfully by a senior member of the clergy. We were given some wonderfully clear, inspiring and practical material to take away to help us follow-up this session in our own time.

I left after the hour feeling not only refreshed, but also inspired to continue – in a Saturn/Neptune, now I do it, now I don’t, manner. A key to managing Saturn/Neptune aspects creatively, is to make sure to stay reasonably on top of life’s necessary demands, but not to expect too much of one’s own capacity for self-motivation or self-discipline in other areas of life.  (I say this as a normally self-disciplined person) Giving in to the desire now and then to lie on the sofa with a good book and a long snooze is important during Saturn/Neptune times!

I went home that evening – to the sofa and the long snooze – and made a delightful discovery. My husband, whilst hunting for something else altogether, had found my missing angel! I am quite a rational, pragmatic person despite all those 12th House planets of mine. But I do like having an angel or two dotted about our home, and had become especially fond of a little bronze image which Ian had bought for me on a visit a couple of years ago to Buckfast Abbey in Devon, England. I called her Maria. She had lain contentedly on my bedside table until her mysterious disappearance some months ago – probably around the time that Neptune went retrograde.

What delightful Neptunian synchronicity! This morning I photographed angel Maria, to share with my readers.

Angel Maria

Angel Maria

And there was more. My Facebook notifications this morning, via Friend June Haygood, invited me to Like a Page called Real Imaginal. This I did, intrigued by the most Neptunian-sounding title, thereby falling into the nebulous delights of Real Imaginal online magazine, “…dedicated to the re-enchantment of Neptune…” It is deep and insightful. Do check it out.

These are only SOME of my Neptune direct experiences this week.  I love it when planetary symbolism speaks so directly: even Neptune does that! What Neptune Direct experiences have you had this week? Do share – giving your feedback is a wonderful way to flesh out those living archetypes with the detail of people’s real lives.



600 words copyright Anne Whitaker 2015

Licensed under Creative Commons – for conditions see Home Page


Read Alison Gunn’s excellent analysis of the ghastly events in Paris on Friday 13th November…

If you have not yet come upon Alison Gunn, PhD.’s wonderful site Beyond The Stars Astrology and Tarot, now is your chance to discover her work as we all reflect on the truly awful events which have taken place in Paris in the last two days. 

“……There are times when drawing up a mundane chart, a chart that shows the specific time of a political (or world) event, can be very helpful for astrologers, particularly when one is making an effort to try to understand the underlying forces or causes of an event.Mundane charts have been erected for thousands of years, and are one of the oldest expressions of astrological inquiry.

Paris terror attacks 13.11.15

Paris terror attacks 13.11.15

There are many pieces of relevant information in the mundane chart relating to the IS terrorist attacks in Paris two nights ago….. “

To read the rest of Alison’s clear and forthright analysis, click  HERE



200 words copyright Anne Whitaker/Alison Gunn 2015
Licensed under Creative Commons – for conditions see Home Page

New Moon in Scorpio: a meditation on darkness, power and poetry ….

The Scorpio New Moon this year occurred,  most appropriately, on the 11th November. On this date in 1918 at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month the armistice declaring the end of the First World War was announced. It is a poignant date, and one on which millions of us still remember those family members who died during the industrial scale slaughter of both the World Wars of the Twentieth Century. 

This year, the New Moon fell on my third house Jupiter at 19 degrees of Scorpio. I have thus been especially aware of the transient nature of human life and the need to write about it through the filter of astrology. What better glass, darkly, through which to view life’s fleeting nature, its fathomless depths, than that of the sign of Scorpio?

Now is Scorpio’s season

The thirty degree band of the sky as viewed from Earth, occupying from 270 to 300 degrees of the 360 degree zodiac, is the sector called Scorpio, the beginning of the final quarter of the zodiacal year. The Sun, our marker for the unfolding of the year and the changing of the seasons, entered Scorpio this year on the 23rd October, and leaves it for Sagittarius on the 22nd November – heading for Capricorn and the winter Solstice on 22nd December: the Sun’s most remote point for us in the North.

The astronomy leads us to the symbolic meaning of Scorpio. It is the time of late autumn: in this season the clocks go back, making darkness come earlier. It is the time of grass dying off, trees being stripped bare of leaves, a time of retreat: warmer clothes, more heating, putting things off, often, “….until the New Year”. Energy is lower. Winter flu scythes away many of our old folk. In Greek myth, the goddess Demeter goes into mourning for her beloved daughter Persephone, abducted to his Underworld realm by Hades, king of darkness. The Upper world mourns with her.

A Scorpio poet’s view

However – descent into darkness harbours its own deep, creative purpose. The Scottish poet Christopher Whyte, born with several planets in Scorpio, expresses that purpose with profound eloquence in this extract from his poem Rex Tenebrarum (King of Darkness), an English translation by the poet himself of a poem written in Scottish Gaelic:

……How heavy the earth is above the seed

that struggles and thrusts, looking for nourishment

from the sun, and showers to freshen it!

But if it wasn’t rooted in the darkness,

in a warm, enclosed place filled with worms,

it could do nothing with air or light…..

King of the darkness, king of the world,

when I saw two faces in the mirror

superimposed, made one, I understood

that you have to be reconciled.

Unless the sapling knows

where its roots are sunk, and the whole

plant admits that life

and nourishment come from darkness;

unless it has unequivocal

love for what bore and raised it

how can there be a rich

summer flowering for our hopes? “

The astrological writer Paul Wright reveals in his fine, acclaimed book  The Literary Zodiac, the way in which “writers express cosmic patterns in their creative work….”In the above extract Christopher Whyte’s deep roots in the sign of Scorpio have enabled him powerfully and accurately to capture and express the essence of that sector’s meaning and challenge to us.

All powerfully charged dimensions of life belong to Scorpio: that stage of the human journey challenges us with those facets of life which most powerfully compel us, attract us, repel us, scare us – and transform us.

Another poet very strongly rooted in the sign of  Scorpio, Dylan Thomas, talks about ‘deaths and entrances’.  Thomas was born, fittingly, in Scorpio’s season: on the 27th October 1914, the year of the start of the Great War.

If we can face and grapple with our deepest attractions, compulsions, power drives, fears and repulsions, then we can experience – through staying with the struggle, seeking support where we can, having faith in the transformative dimensions of life – the symbolic death of aspects of the ‘old order’ holding us back from entry into a more complete and authentic expression of who it is we actually are.


What does this New Moon, ushering in Scorpio’s season, mean to you? Do share your thoughts and feelings!


Christopher Whyte 2011

Christopher Whyte

Christopher Whyte has translated Rilke, Tsvetaeva and Pasolini into English. He published four novels between 1995 and 2000 and his fifth poetry collection, in Scottish Gaelic, appeared in 2013. His translation of the work of the Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941) “Moscow in the Plague Year” was published in 2014 (New York, Archipelago Press 2014). He lives in Budapest, Hungary and writes full-time.



800 words copyright Anne Whitaker/Christopher Whyte 2015
Licensed under Creative Commons – for conditions see Home Page

Saturn in Sagittarius: the Joyful Child grows up

Saturn is settling down for his journey through the exuberant, joyful sign of Sagittarius for the next two years or so. Mars is currently conjunct Jupiter in Virgo (in my First House) as I  reflect on the importance of Jupiter’s natural, spontaneous exuberance being modified and curbed by Saturn’s practicality and realism if we want to generate anything lasting in our lives. This reflection has made me think of  the importance of retaining the capacity for simple joy, as Life tosses its inevitable challenges our way.

Beautiful Saturn

Beautiful Saturn image

In honouring both Jupiter and Saturn, then, let us first celebrate the spontaneous, resilient, Joyful Child within all of us, explore how it fares as we mature. If we are lucky, this part manages to survive the batterings, brutalities and tragedies of existence,  continuing to provide inspiration and faith that life is worth living.

Who, exactly, is this Child? The basic stuff of which s/he is made is the element of fire, that which the gods prized so much they wanted to keep to themselves. But Prometheus stole some, hidden in a fennel stalk, and gave it to us. He was savagely punished for his misdemeanour – but ever since, we humans have had at least one chip of that magical, divine substance lodged in us. Everyone has some, some people have too little, others have too much.

What is it? It’s the spark of divine light, that which tells us we are special and immortal, that  we’re here for a reason, that our lives have a purpose, that we have a future worth seeking out. It fuels wonder, injects the passion of inquiry into mere curiosity, causes learning and exploration to be a joyful end in themselves. It gives the capacity to look out at the world with a fresh set of eyes, take pleasure at what’s there because it’s new, exciting. It brings spontaneity and the gift of laughter. It fuels play, which is at the core of a response to life which is fundamentally creative and imaginative.

Bountiful Jupiter

Bountiful Jupiter

It is highly protective and supportive of life, especially when the going is rough, giving the hope that things will get better. It enables tough times to be survived through the unquenchable belief that suffering may be awful, and protracted – but it means something; it is not just the random brutality of quixotic gods, or fate.It brings the capacity in extremis to laugh at the sheer absurdity of life, and oneself – a capacity which can drag one out from under the worst of times for just long enough to reaffirm that life, despite everything, is worth living.

The precious creature formed from such magical substance never grows up in the sense of assuming worldly responsibilities, and never gives up on life’s possibilities and delights. It cannot be ordered forth – just appears, then disappears : will o’the wisp. Readers will recognise the Sagittarius/Gemini polarity here!

Leaving the Otherworld

The advance through adulthood as the Saturn seven-year cycle unfolds, alters one’s perception of what it is to be young. Having been scarred by life as we all are, watching a pre-school child absorbed in play is delightful, but also poignant. Delightful because it  demonstrates clearly that there is another world than the one we usually inhabit  which is full of  Saturn’s deadlines, duties and demands.

This Otherworld is full of goblins and fire engines, magic bubbles and imaginary friends, bright green tigers who speak, and amenable adults happy to give you the keys to the scary castle, where you can spend days of adventure without anyone telling you that it’s impossible for giants to keep a special pocket full of ice cream that never melts, just waiting for you to come and eat it.

It’s poignant because we  wonder, looking at this absorbed child, how s/he will cope with an adult world whose entry tariff is extracted from the struggle between the fantasy world of childhood where anything is possible, and the reality testing which takes place as we grow and confront the limits which life sets for us.

The seven-year stages of the Saturn cycle offer a helpful containing context within which to explore how the Joyful Child within us fares as life’s journey unfolds. There is a case to be made for not starting children at school until the first square of the cycle. Five or six, the common age, seems too early to remove children from the Otherworld of play and unbounded imagination. Shakespeare vividly expressed the average child’s response to being dragged from the Otherworld :

“And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel,

And shining morning face, creeping like a snail

Unwillingly to school.”   (i)

If we did start children at the later age of seven or eight, socially disruptive though that would be in many ways, perhaps it would give more time for the Joyful Child’s domain to become established. Thus  it might be easier for the growing person to retain contact with the Otherworld as a source of inspiration throughout life.

Essentially what happens from the time of starting school through to the first Saturn square, as we step across the boundary of family, is that the Joyful Child begins to hide, its energy becoming redirected, as we become more aware of ourselves in relation to what the outer world expects. By and large, that outer world is more interested in us being able to tie our shoelaces, read, tell the time, and be truthful, than it is in knowing what a wonderful chat we had in Chinese last night with the  bright green tiger who sleeps under our bed.

  Early adulthood

Saturn Cycle

Saturn Cycle

The first Saturn opposition at 14/ 15 is the point where we take bigger steps out of family, begin to challenge parental authority,  and move towards greater identification with the peer group.The need to play and daydream which is fundamental to the Joyful Child’s world, and the creative energy fuelling these activities, gets sublimated further at this point. It channels into the pursuit of achievement of an academic or vocational nature, and exploration of the  exciting, troubling world of relationship and emerging sexuality  as bodily changes propel the young person towards physical adulthood.

The Joyful Child’s impetus towards discovery and exploration of the new, engages in a complex dance with the tough Saturnian realities also emerging.Too much time spent playing, not enough on taking responsibility, can have a high emotional cost, eg exam failure or unwanted pregnancy. 

The waning square at 21/2  brings with it the world’s expectation that we should begin to assume adult responsibility, get a job if we’ve been studying for years, get serious. Many people marry or enter into long-term partnerships at this stage, perhaps out of unconscious fear of facing the adult world and its responsibilities alone. I have gained the impression from my varied professional work with people of differing ages over a  long period of time, that part of the vulnerability of this life stage comes from a realisation that childhood is, indeed, over.

Recently I came across a scrapbook of newspaper cuttings from a column I wrote in my early twenties. In it was a piece called “Thoughts on Childhood” which supports the view  just expressed :

“ I am close enough to childhood for my memories still to be clear and reasonably untainted by the rosy hues of nostalgia, although I realise now that as soon as we have ceased to be children, the world of childhood becomes a closed world to us, one which we can never recapture except through flashes of memory and watching our own children grow up. As adults, no matter how hard we wish to recapture the feeling of childhood, we must always remain ‘ watchers by the threshold.’ ”   (ii)

This is a critical age, in terms of the emerging individual’s capacity to retain that  spark of vital creative energy which ensures that  engaging with the world as it is does not mean stifling the Joyful Child, who  has been curbed by now, and knows that much of the time it’s not safe to be too overt. But it is important that the re-channelled  energy continues to flow.

It can express itself in passionate commitment to a career, as opposed to  working purely to provide life’s necessities. It can manifest through joy in good friends, or absorbing hobbies and interests outwith work.For some people, early parenthood brings, along with responsibility, the opportunity to view the world again through the eyes of their growing children.

There is also a direct route for expression through the sheer animal vitality of youth, which all by itself can make life feel worth living. I recall a middle-aged male friend of mine’s recent comment on seeing a young man running effortlessly up several flights of stairs recently, not because he had to,  just because he could. “ I can’t do that any more – my back’s too bad !”  remarked my friend. “It made me feel wistful, reminded me of the youthful grace and energy  which I once had.”

Point of entry

From the Saturn return at 28-30 onwards, the major underlying task changes: from discovering the overall shape of who you are in relation to your own life, to beginning to use the platform you have built as support in offering your unique contribution to the wider world. By this stage, the balance achieved between necessary realism and the joyous, inspirational, creative aspects of life is crucial to how the next 14/15 years unfold. The poet Dylan Thomas senses and honours the presence of the child he was,  in his marvellous “ Poem in October” written on his thirtieth birthday:

“ And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s forgotten mornings……where a boy…..whispered the truth of his joy

To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.”

In the poem’s last verse, he writes 

“And the true

Joy of the long dead child sang burning

In the sun.” (iii)

For Dylan Thomas, as for many poets and even more of us ordinary citizens, being in nature can powerfully evoke that within us which never ages, which rejoices in being alive, and is powerfully connected to the endless cycle of birth, maturation, decline, death and return.

The thirties and forties are decades where a major challenge lies in the grinding process of reality testing our hopes, wishes, dreams and ambitions against the world as it is. Most of us eventually get to the Saturn opposition of the mid-forties: we are still here,  we may still be functioning tolerably well, but we’re not young any more.


From the mid-forties on, we only have to look in the mirror, or realise that our idea of a good Friday night  is increasingly of going to bed early, not with a hot lover,  but with a good  book, to be aware of the relentless advance of mortality. It becomes harder at this stage for most people to keep in touch with the Joyful Child, keep its energies flowing. For many people,  brutalities of  an environmental, political, social or personal nature have borne down so hard that the vital spark of life borne by the Joyful Child can now fuel only the dogged survival instinct.

I have found that one of the compensations of middle age is deeply paradoxical, and was first alerted to it a number of years ago by a comment made by my late mother-in-law, then approaching eighty.The way she dealt with an old age full of physical infirmity was inspiring. She had a lively sense of fun and humour, maintained great interest in the wider world as well as that of her own family and friends, and kept up a prodigious correspondence right up to the end of her life. The Joyful Child in her was alive right to the end, sustained in her case by a strong, ecumenical religious faith.

“ You know”, she said,“occasionally when I’m not thinking about anything in particular, I catch sight of my face in the mirror and get an awful shock. I see an old woman’s face looking out at me – but inside I don’t feel old at all – I feel just the same as I did when I was young.”

The paradox is this.The body ages to the point where you are faced with increasing physical evidence of the passage of time; but an opportunity can also slowly arise to perceive, with a clarity not possible in youth, that this ageing body has been carrying something else through life which is different, ageless, woven with the physical – that spark of immortality which comes in sometime before birth, flying free at physical death. Thus, as mortality’s approach via Saturn becomes more and more difficult to ignore, a major compensation can be offered via Jupiter:  by that  which is clearly immortal becoming more and more evident by contrast. 

In this way, the great archetypes symbolised by astrological Jupiter and Saturn can achieve balance as ordinary human life reaches its conclusion.



(i)  “As You  Like It ”: (1599) act 2, sc 7, l 139, The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 1999 Edition, p 658, par 26

(ii)  “Thoughts on Childhood” from Personally Speaking column, Stornoway Gazette, September 1970

(iii) “ Poem in October “ from Dylan Thomas Collected Poems 1934-52, Aldine Press, 1972 Edition, pp 96-7



2,200 words copyright Anne Whitaker 2015

Licensed under Creative Commons – for conditions see Home Page of Writing from the Twelfth House


As Mercury goes direct…a tale of three Virgo planets, an astrologer, and a blessed cupcake…

How’s this for astrology in action, emotionally, physically and symbolically? I spent this morning in a highly Virgoan pursuit: going through all my old paper files and systematically weeding out all the masses of stuff I no longer need. So far, so Moon, Venus, Mars and Jupiter in Virgo.

Astrologers at Work

Astrologers at Work

And now it gets more dynamic. My Ascendant is 8-9 degrees Virgo. I decide to check my TimePassages astrology app ( excellent, by the way!) just before leaving the house at around 1345 BST. The Moon is exactly conjunct Mars and both are sitting right on top of my Ascendant.

Looking at the chart of the moment I think to myself “I wonder what woman is going to annoy me today?” At that PRECISE moment, folks, my phone rings: a London number. I answer it. It is a female sales person, trying to get me to report an accident ( which of course I have not had) in order to make an insurance claim. I loathe those calls. “Excuse me! “I shout into the phone, several times, trying to break through the spiel to inform the caller that we do not accept unsolicited calls and that they should remove our details forthwith. At my third attempt to break through, she hangs up, leaving me fizzing. Three attempts to call the number fail. Exasperated, I give up, then realise the precision of the astrology’s relationship to that moment. And calm down.

I take another look at the moment’s horoscope and realise that the Moon is leaving Mars and heading for Jupiter – 12 degrees Virgo conjunct my Ascendant in the First House. “Mmmm…” I think. “And what woman is going to please and cheer me up today, who is in some way connected to health and education?” Holding this thought, I exit my house, walk along the street, and stroll into our local Botanic Gardens – a few minutes’ walk from our house.

A few seconds later there is a cheery “Hello, Anne! How lovely to see you!” and one of my favourite astrology students, a nutritionist and yoga teacher, screeches to a halt, jumps off her bike, gives me a big hug, and walks with me along the riverside through the park towards my office, chatting cheerfully as we go. I tell her about the Moon/Mars/Jupiter /my Ascendant episode, and she beams. “Well, that’s astrology for you. No wonder we love it so.” We part ways, me thoroughly uplifted by the encounter.

Approaching the office, I remind myself, very happily since the last three weeks have been the most trying at every level of communication I’ve experienced for many a long year, that Mercury is about to go direct. I also realise that the transiting Virgo Moon is drawing ever closer to Jupiter in my First House.  “Wouldn’t it be great if that review book I’ve been expecting has arrived?” I think. Yes, there it was, beckoning enticingly in my in-tray.

So, Reader, I lay on the office sofa happily for the rest of the afternoon, drinking coffee, eating the chocolate cup cake recently blessed by the lama at the Buddhist centre round the corner (which I had been saving for a special occasion), and reading. What a perfect beginning to Mercury going direct!

Mercury in Action!

Mercury in Action!

Any tales from my readers demonstrating how jaw-droppingly descriptive astrological symbolism can be, are most welcome. Do share your story by leaving a comment.



600 words copyright Anne Whitaker 2015

Licensed under Creative Commons – for conditions see Home Page of Writing from the Twelfth House

As Saturn returns to Sagittarius: meditative contemplation from Mary Plumb at the Mountain Astrologer blog

I really appreciated this wise, calm, beautiful post on  Saturn’s recent entry into Sagittarius from Mary Plumb at the Mountain Astrologer blog. I’ve also found it  personally helpful, as I prepare to work with the forming Jupiter/Saturn/Neptune energy by re-entering Buddhist meditation practice again after a gap of some years.

Do take time to read and reflect. Mary has inspired me to go away and write a post of my own on this powerful planetary shift which will affect us all, both individually and collectively. Watch this space!


Born on the cusp: which sign am I?

This is easily the most frequently read post on this blog! So – thought I’d repost it for the benefit of new readers – with thanks to Rian, who asked the original question.

Could you talk a little bit about cusps? How much does a person with their sun at 29.5 degrees take on the next sign? Or is it black and white. I think it might be a fade-out/ fade-in, but I’ve never found anything written about this. Thank you. 

Anne’s Answer: I’m glad you asked this question. It’s one astrologers are asked A LOT !I’ll answer it in two stages.

Firstly, let’s imagine someone out there is due to give birth mid to late June 2013 in Glasgow, UK, and is wondering whether their baby will have the Sun in Gemini or Cancer.

At midnight GMT on 21st June (1.00 am UK summer time), the Sun is at the very end of  Gemini:29 degrees 48 minutes. By midnight GMT on 22nd June (1.00 am UK summer time), the Sun has moved to the next sign and occupies the very beginning of Cancer: 0 degrees 45 minutes. Thus our imaginary child arriving on 21st June 2013 some time after midnight GMT  in Glasgow,  UK would be in popular terms, ‘born on the cusp’.

However, as anyone who takes their interest in astrology ‘beyond the Sun Signs will very quickly realise, there is a lot more to astrology than its popular Sun Sign face would suggest. With an accurately calculated horoscope which uses the date, place and vital TIME of birth, an astrologer (or, these days, anyone with access to a reasonable computer programme ) can work out to the minute where the Sun is on that child’s birthday.

To illustrate this, look at the image below. (click on it to enlarge). Our imaginary cusp Baby X, born in Glasgow UK at 6.00 am British Summer Time ( 5.00 am GMT ) on Friday 21st June 2013, will have the Sun in Gemini – at 29 degrees 59 minutes. If this child  is born only five minutes later, however, he/she will have the Sun in Cancer – at 0 degrees 00 minutes.

Baby X

Baby X

Thus, strictly speaking, there is no such thing as ‘born on the cusp’. Our Baby X, horoscope accurately calculated,  is either – in Sun Sign terms – a Gemini or a Cancer.

However, Rian, your guess was quite correct. Someone born with the Sun at the very beginning of the 30 degrees of any zodiac sign has a stronger, more vivid and obvious  ‘charge’ of the sign’s energy than someone born at the very end.

Imagine you are standing in a favourite room which you have occupied for a long time. You are becoming a little bored, jaded with what that room may have to offer. Suddenly, a door you’d never noticed before opens slightly. A shaft of new light streams through from another room. You step forward, intrigued. Could this be a new adventure? Or, to conclude our analogy: the Sun in fickle, restless Gemini is becoming stale – the prospect of entry into a journey through another sign, watery mysterious Cancer, beckons….

The second stage of my answer, though, brings in a little of the more complex picture which more in-depth astrology has to offer.

Take another look at Baby X’s horoscope, featured above. (click on it to enlarge)

Even those of you with very little knowledge of astrology should be able to imagine the 360 degree zodiac circle before you as a stage. Stand in the centre, and look around the circle.

You will see various symbols, representing the planets. Humans have been standing on Earth, looking out into the night sky, plotting the planets’ positions against an imaginary 360 degree great circle, the zodiac, for more than six thousand years. That view has never changed, despite our knowledge for several centuries that the Sun, not Earth, is the centre of our solar system. We still look out from the same Earth to the same  celestial view.

On the left of the circle, just above and below the horizontal black line,  fall the sectors of Gemini and Cancer. Our Baby X may be a Sun Gemini – only just! – but very close to that Sun is Jupiter (desire to connect to the Big Picture)   and not far away is Mars (action). This gives our Baby X a very strong emphasis on the Gemini theme.

However the horizontal black line is his/her Ascendant or Rising Sign, revealing the way s/he will appear to the world in general. This is in the sign of Cancer. Just below this point, squashed together on 22 degrees of Cancer, are Venus (urge to relate) and Mercury (drive toward communication, expression). Thus Baby X will have five out of the ten planets (or characters on the stage), and Rising Sign, occupying only two of the twelve signs of the zodiac.

This places a very strong emphasis on the signs of Gemini and Cancer, rational air and emotional water. Thus, at a very simple level – full interpretation has to take all the characters, their locations and interactions on the zodiac stage into account – Baby X will have the gifts and pains of that classic Shakespearian clash between reason and passion, to wrestle with and reconcile, be driven by–  for as long as  s/he lives.

A long answer for a short question! But I do hope it sheds some light – and reveals in the process a deeper astrology ‘beyond the Sun Signs’. Do let me know what you think!

And you new visitors and Followers out there. Drop by with your observations….. and, of course,  your Questions….



900 words copyright Anne Whitaker 2013/2015

Licensed under Creative Commons – for conditions see Home Page of Writing from the Twelfth House