Taurus versus Sagittarius: The Domestic Life of the Bull and Archer

Sometimes, as unlikely a pairing as it may seem from the astrological point of view, Taurus and Sagittarius decide to get married.

I have observed this scenario for most of my life at close quarters, so this evening I bring you a little scene of domesticity between the bull and the archer, inspired somewhat by real events.

*******

TAURUS

(calling from the kitchen

to SAGITTARIUS):

I know your tendency to waste

time - start wrapping up whatever

you're doing because we're eating at eight.

SAGITTARIUS

(Arranging the 300+ photos from her last trip

while comparing hotel prices online)

What d'you mean? We only just had lunch!

TAURUS

We had lunch a full four hours ago

and I'm hungry. Anyway, don't argue,

we're eating at eight and that's final.

Where'd we keep the cumin?

SAGITTARIUS

Cumin? Don't tell me you're cooking?

TAURUS

Of course I'm cooking, we're having

dinner aren't we? Left to you we'd be

eating bread and cheese again.

SAGITTARIUS

(miffed)

What d'you mean again, I

made pasta for lunch didn't I?

TAURUS

You boiled the water you mean.

I made the sauce, added fresh

herbs and made sure we had extra

grated cheese. Speaking of, if we eat

any more bread and cheese we'll

turn into bloody bread and cheese!

SAGITTARIUS

(Grumbling under her breath)

What's wrong with bread and cheese

anyway? How many meals am I

expected to come up with every day?

(Calling to Taurus)

What are you making?

TAURUS

The chicken breasts in a yoghurt sauce.

Where'd'you keep the cumin?

SAGITTARIUS

Third shelf on the left.

Hang on... I was saving that

chicken for Thursday's lunch!

TAURUS

So, we'll cook something else.

Anyway, Thursday I thought

we'd entertain at home.

SAGITTARIUS

You're kidding! Thursday night

I'm going to that lecture on

comparative literature...

TAURUS

What the hell for? You keep saying

you're tired all the time and then

you rush off to these stupid things -

SAGITTARIUS

Well entertaining at home is not

my idea of relaxation. That's

far more tiring than any lecture.

TAURUS

(Bitterly)

We never do anything. We never

have anybody over. We never

entertain at home because

you can never be bothered to!

SAGITTARIUS

What are you talking about?

We go out all the time!

TAURUS

I'm talking about entertaining

at home. Cooking for friends!

When I was a child, my mother

was always making something

delicious and our friends

and family came over for

meals all the time.

SAGITTARIUS

(Shuddering involuntarily)

Well, you definitely married

the wrong gal if that's

what you wanted -

TAURUS

- look you've got half-an-hour,

then we're eating, okay?

SAGITTARIUS

Why don't you have the

same urgency about calling

the dentist, huh? Mister

Ants-in-his-pants?

Why don't you call him already?

TAURUS

Dentist, schmentist. I'll call

him next week. Anyway,

what the hell's the rush?

*******

The Nodes in the Fourth/Tenth, Or Visualising the Perfect Career

These days, I am obsessed with manifesting a career that will suit me down to a 'T'. It's my first thought when I awake and the last thought when I sleep. (Well, other than thinking of my ex, whom I miss very much. Very, very much).

Apparently, those with a Sagittarian North Node have a better aptitude than others when it comes to manifesting their desires. I guess because Sags are always relying on faith that the wherewithal and provisions for a journey will be provided for by, well, Providence.

I have the North Node in Sagittarius in the Fourth House and a Gemini South Node in the Tenth. That South Node has marked a seemingly endless desire to experiment and change career plans, with a thirst for experiences that is always prematurely slaked just when the real commitment bit has to kick in.

In short, in imagining a career for myself' I've gone from one plan to another, with very little money made to show for it.

Additionally, I have a low boredom threshold and a terror of being tied down to a boring, monotonous job. I shy away from the kinds of occupation that most people wishing to be self-sufficient undertake for the greater good of not being parasitic/burdens on those they love and/or to support their families.

Unfortunately, while I harbour no end of self-condemnation for my own fickleness and inability to settle into one particular job, the pain, shame and lack of selfworth have obviously not been enough to compel me to do the honorable thing and say 'yes' to the first job I'm offered, just to stop my internal engine of condemnation from filling me with self-loathing.

It hasn't been enough to castigate myself into action with the full-on barrage of thoughts like: "You're a worthless, good-for-nothing, burden-on-society parasite, spoiled and selfish and lazy and not fit to enjoy what you do."

And yet, neither has it been enough to simply accept myself. While I have Mars and Mercury in an Aquarius Sixth House, and a Scorpio Uranus in the Third squaring that Mars (not to mention my Moon at 29 degrees of Capricorn), I have not been able to find peace simply by accepting myself as a rebel and a drifter.

To the contrary (as my ex likes to say), I actually very much want to prove myself with a decent career, decent money and a means with which to bring together my spiritual and creative interests. And support a family.

Meanwhile, though, there's this idea that jobs (and most careers) are meant to be soul-killing and badly-paid with miserably long hours, hellish deadlines, insufferable tedium and a brutish superior (or three). That's apparently how you can tell you're doing the responsible thing. The level of suffering is directly proportional to the level of maturity achieved.

[[Obviously I'm being rather petulant here, but I need to get this off my chest.]]

Yet I refuse to be in the above-mentioned situation. Which, I suppose, is proof of my own level of privilege and pampered-ness (is there such a noun?) on the one hand, and ongoing reluctance to make a commitment to a normal job/career or the constraints of a healthy adult life on the other.

Indeed, I hasten to add, trying to supress such inclinations has not resulted in the responsible behaviour I aspire to. Rather, it has continued to put me at war within myself and drain my energy and make me miserable.

Q: Which leaves me where exactly?

A: Back to self-acceptance and the manifestation of desire through focus and trust in the generosity of the Universe (and gratitude for the plenty I already enjoy).

I'm going to endeavour to be enough for myself, warts and all. Restlessness, impatience, low boredom threshold and ever-shifting inclinations toward creative/healing freelance career included.

And I'm going to imagine the perfect career. Which, for me, would have to include:

-- Travelling all over the world

-- The opportunity to interact with people spiritually and creatively

-- The opportunity to write and direct for film and theatre and generally express myself in a variety of ways (in this case, more writing - fiction, poetry, graphic novels, kids' books, illustration, music...)

-- The opportunity to share my knowledge, guide, teach and help people heal

-- The opportunity to keep learning till the day I die (languages, theories of anything, metaphysics - and just about everything other than knitting, sewing and stamp-collecting)

-- The opportunity to serve others and be a good steward of the earth

There. That's what I want to do for a living.

Did I mention I wanted a decent wage/income, too? I do. I want to make money and a decent amount of it.

Q: Am I daring to imagine such things when Saturn's about to go into my Second House of earned income (and values, and self-worth)?

A: You double betcha.

In the meantime, praises and thanks to the Universe for everything I enjoy and all those I love who are in my life, whether as friends or family.

*****

For those interested, my desire to envision (and, thus, manifest) the perfect job has been shaped by the principles shared in this book.

*****

The image above was taken from this site.

The Return of Discipline: Counting Down to Saturn Turning Direct

The mutable signs are not known for their immense staying powers.

If the angles are in Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius and Pisces, or there are a lot of planets (especially Mars, Mercury, Jupiter or Saturn) in these signs in a natal (or progressed) chart, you can bet the native will have trouble focusing on one particular goal for a sustained period of time.

I know whereof I speak: my angles are all mutable, my Sun and Jupiter are in Pisces, and the Nodes are Sagittarius-Gemini.

In addition, Neptune squares my Sun and my ascendant, and Aquarius Mars and Mercury keep my Sixth House often busy, but accomplishing little.

Also, I have little to no patience for longterm, process-oriented tasks.

It may be no surprise, then, that I've had several shortlived jobs in my past, and find it hard to commit to any one thing of my own volition - unless there's some concrete goal to be achieved.

Of course, Saturn in Cancer in the Eleventh might also have something to do with my prolonged shirking of more constraining 'grown-up' jobs (not to mention the 'terror' of having to be a part of a large group when it comes to the workplace).

Meanwhile, Saturn rules my Fifth House and it's no wonder my romantic and creative life have been making little headway during its lengthy retrograde.

In short, I'm REALLY looking forward to Saturn going direct on May 16th. That's mid-month, this month. With any luck that'll point to the discipline I've been sorely lacking of late to knuckle down to some serious creative writing.

Of course, I'm not going to wait till then to start attacking the writing projects I have in mind. But psychologically, I know getting to May 16th will feel like the right momentum will be building in my favour again.

My Capricorn Moon can't wait.





The image above was taken from this site.

Venus Trine Neptune: the Piscean M.O. for Lovin'

I used to think everyone experienced that breathless, dumbstruck, shaken-to-the-core sensation when it came to love.

Then I found out that Pisceans are rather pathetic when it comes to matters amorous.

And even later than that, I discovered that, irrespective of whether one has the Sun in Pisces or not, if one is born with one's natal Venus trine its higher octave, Neptune, then falling in love is an event so momentous, it feels like whole worlds are being formed and destroyed at the mere thought of the beloved. It feels like being dropped in the heart of the sun and rejoicing at the annihilation. It feels like being ripped apart by a thunderous, rapturous wave - the perfect one surfers wait for - except you don't ride it, you let if fall upon you like a heavy, white mesh of bliss and surrender to being wiped out.

Er, before we get too carried away, that is my attempt to articulate what the experience symbolized by a Neptune/Venus trine might feel like. My own natal trine between those two planets is in the element of fire - Venus in Aries, Neptune in Sagittarius, and boy have I willingly burned whenever the lovebug's bit.

Why did I happen to choose this topic to post on? Because I've been musing about a lot of things, of late, including trying to identify where my own source of creativity comes from. A friend asked me two days ago something along those lines, and I burbled out an inarticulate reply that it required "a brush with love".

But really, that's what it is. What I feel when someone strikes me as beautiful and desirable and lovely, is that same exultant feeling I get when contemplating what strikes me as a great story to tell, or a dizzying bit of drama to act out. I feel like I leave my body and soar somewhere, not entirely certain of the geography.

Apparently, there are people for whom such transportation does not occur. I'm not entirely sure I should feel sorry for them. The highs bestowed on you by the almost transcendent, spiritual love symbolised by a Venus-Neptune trine are more than matched by the lows when the beloved one is seen through the inevitable perspective of the mundane. Or dear old Saturn comes to call by transit or progression, tearing down the pedestals we've built in our adoration and showing us exactly what we've sworn undying devotion to. Not quite as beautiful when seen through the Saturnian goggles, and absolutely no flying of any kind allowed. It's more like enduring, accepting, forgiving.

Perhaps a more positive way of putting all of that: Saturn helps give form to the ethereal, almost protean (and near sexless) nature of the Venus-Neptune trine, which, in its desire for immaculate, pure devotion, is less inclined to bring true carnality into the mixture. That's for Mars and Venus (and Pluto) to sort out on some other level.

I know that I still - very rarely now, but from time to time - see the apparent image of my first love - my long dead biology teacher appear before me, just before an important creative experience is about to dawn. She's usually walking just a little ahead of me, as lovely and as out of reach as when I first met her. She's always 28, the year she died. For me, she is an precious innocence, a remembrance of adolescent yearning that no amount of weariness, human frailty, age and cynicism can take away.

So love (and creativity) for me, is this, in essence: an idealised longing for a union where two melt away into some sublime self-negation. Which is, as far as I can make out, about as good an interpretation of Venus trine Neptune as a Piscean Sun can probably put it.

Pisceans. Tsk. They're so wimpy and soft. So sappy, gushy, wishy-washy, airy-fairy, arty-farty. Bleeding their hearts all over the carpet. Then crying because the carpet was the only thing you had to remember your dear departed old grandmother by.

Good thing bad boys Osama Bin Laden and Ariel Sharon (and Rupert Murdoch) have proved just how badass they can be. But then, to my knowledge, none of them is afflicted by a natal Venus-Neptune trine.






The image above was taken from this site.

Capricorn as Teacher

It really was a Capricornian sort of day, even though I had completely forgotten we'd run out of Sadge.

I had few expectations when I got up, other than a vague plan to get some exercise. Since my last job ended mid-November (note how my anxious, self-worth-associated-with-labour Virgo Ascendant and Cap moon specify how recently I became unemployed) I've had a lot of time to think and, frankly, it's been rather bad for my mental health.

Consequently, my usual penchant to be physically active whenever possible has been rather non-existent. You'd have thought the promise of endorphins would have made me keen to hop on the family's walking machine, but part of my battle with anxiety has been connected with the climate crisis, possible looming catastrophe and how much electricity we consume. So, I've been loath to use anything that has to be plugged into a power outlet.

But today, exercise was definitely on the schedule. It was the only thing on the schedule - other than blogging - so, by God, it was going to happen.

A perfect Capricorn day for it, it was, too. Cold and dry weather, the house freezing and a sort of reserved, unemotional series of exchanges among the fam. Also, a surprisingly more measured conversation between my younger brother (home for the holidays from London) and myself than we've had in years. Even the date seemed appropriate, 22 is a powerful irreduceable number - the master builder - and most fitting with the Saturn-ruled sign's energy.

I excused myself after lunch to head off on a "short walk". My plan was mostly to head to a nearby gym that I'd spotted, to see if it had membership rates I was prepared to pay and what the equipment looked like. Of course it was closed - though the nearby bike shop was open, so I enjoyed looking at the wares and scoping out possible cycles to buy.

Again, my environmental anxiety has meant driving anywhere in our public-transport-almost-non-existent city is accompanied by deep concern at the amount of exhaust fumes I help pour into the atmosphere when I'm behind the wheel - even though I do love driving. Hence, thoughts of bike purchases. Also, it would be nice to cycle again as a way of keeping fit - though doing so in Nicosia is pretty much taking your life into your hands, given that most drivers consider cyclists an irritating inconvenience and there are no bikepaths to speak of.

No impulse-buyer I, my stringent Capricorn moon left the shop with information on price ranges, models, and useful accessories like helmets and locks. I'll be back, hopefully - once I've weighed up the benefits of owning a bike over the inconvenience of not having a great space to keep it in our building - and the 200 CYP I'd need to fork out for it when I'm not earning.

Then the walk began in earnest, and boy, with the exhaust fumes from the vehicles roaring past me and the patchy pavements that were often taken over by parked cars, it wasn't easy. Most of the time I felt queasy from the CO I was inhaling.

Still, I did pass by some unexpected little undeveloped plots of land with olive trees rising out of the clover. And I stopped to give thanks for nature's resilience. Even in our blindness and greed in expending earth's resources without giving it a second thought, plants and animals around us somehow survive. Not all do, of course. Many die - and too many become tragically extinct.

But if we open our eyes just a little along our familiar haunts, the natural world that is the realm of earthy Capricorn is hardier than we believe. And that filled me with gratitude, today.

I thanked the olive trees for gracing my path and picked up some of the garbage that was lying about.

Eventually, I ended up at an English-language bookstore (one of the few in Nicosia, in the predominantly Greek-speaking Republic of Cyprus) and headed for the New Age section. A rare treat - usually I can't get there during the store's normal hours of operation. But this being the countdown to Christmas, it was open far longer than usual.

In a bookstore, it doesn't take long for me to experience 'flow'. This particular afternoon, I became eventually engrossed in Kyriacos C. Markides' The Magus of Strovolos: The Extraordinary World of a Spiritual Healer (check it out here: http://www.amazon.com/Magus-Strovolos-Extraordinary-Spiritual-Healer/dp/0140190341/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1198356005&sr=1-1 ), recounting the wisdom and extraordinary life of the mystic and healer Spyros Sathi - the eponymous 'magus'.

Given his earthy humour, as well as his seeming mastery over matter, Capricorn seemed a good fit as the dominant sign in Sathi's birthchart, though I doubt I'll ever know for sure. Meanwhile, my own ache to understand universal and spiritual principles had me eagerly devouring chapters, seated in the middle of aisle traffic quite happily, with the vague hope that I wasn't proving to be too much of an inconvenience registering somewhere at the back of my head.

Eventually, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and looked up to see my old teacher from secondary school amusedly peering down at me. Interestingly enough, he actually is a Capricorn and one of the most spiritual people I know. I have been learning from him since I was 12 years old, and since I moved back to Cyprus last year, I have spent much time with him - most recently in a Baha'i study group that he leads.

He had actually met the Magus, before the latter's death in the '90s, but had not been drawn to the metaphysical teaching Sathi offered beyond a certain point. My teacher, as a Baha'i, has always seemed more suited to the devotional path than the occult. Whereas I am torn between the two, trying to boost my knowledge/experience of both these days.

My teacher was picking out Christmas presents for his children and grandchildren - mostly books, since he has dedicated his life to education. As a child I had thought him the perfect parent, but realised as he delicately considered what reading material he should buy for his eldest child, that the very virtues that had always led me to admire him might have been a little rigorous or difficult to live up to - or live with - for some of his kids.

That's Capricorn for you. So often, in defiance of the bad Astro press they receive, Caps are surprisingly sensitive and savvy about others' feelings, despite the drive to find practical application to anything abstract, the reservation, the distrust of the emotional. There's far more subtlety to the Seagoat than we often are led to believe. The strict, exacting parent whose approval can be so hard to win transforms into the wise, playful teacher - or even spiritual master - if time and our own maturity allow us to change our perception.

Not that I even need to mention it, but Liz Greene says it all far, far better in her classic text, Saturn: A New Look at an Old Devil ( http://www.amazon.com/Saturn-New-Look-Old-Devil/dp/0877283060/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1198360126&sr=8-1 )

First Impressions and the Twelfth House

Last night, I went to a party of a female Sadge friend who lives not too far from my house in Nicosia. The gathering itself was actually very cool re. logistics: lots of great music, an incredible spread of good food (unusual for booze-heavy parties) and mucho alcohol.

Thing is, though, I spent the early bit of it trying to suss out who I knew and could, therefore, mosey over to - so as to avoid the dreaded sad-and-lonely-bastard-in-the-middle-nursing-a-drink syndrome. It's not the talking to people I mind, it's the subtle art of slipping into what always look like very-self-sufficient groups of folks chatting amongst each other. Seemingly stating by their body language that: "Go find someone else to talk to, mate, this circle is CLOSED". Or words to that effect.

Basically, my natal Saturn in Cancer doesn't really like being out of its comfort zone socially. Good thing my Mercury and Mars in Aquarius drive me on to social interaction anyway. Because once you're in a group, you can sort of hang there indefinitely, nursing your drink and adding a witty (or crass) comment to the conversation to keep things flowing for hours. In fact, you're golden - as long as you don't need a refill. Sometimes, especially if the drinks table's nearby, you can hop over, top yourself up, and take up your previous slot. Other times, the group sort of morphs or disperses and either someone else is filling your place or everyone's moved on to different parts of the room.

Anyway, on this occasion, I happened to turn up at the birthday girl's house after a two-and-a-half-hour lesson with my FISU meditation teacher (FISU = the Foundation for International Spiritual Unfoldment: http://www.fisu.org/en/), so I was sort of still a little tired. Pretty intense stuff. And just as I was trying to figure out which floor her apartment was on, I spotted a svelte-looking chap in tight trendy trousers, a chic royal blue sweater over a stylish pink shirt. And his cranium was shaved and shiny, his features elegantly gaunt, and he was sporting a pair of ultra-snazzy glasses balanced on his rather sharp nose.

I know these types very well. They are usually the sort who are tremendously self-confident, physically energetic, bold, outrageous, ultra popular and, not surprisingly, often rather arrogant.
I also know my own propensity for prejudice.

Anyway, bald-pate guy and I introduced each other, then sort of raced up the stairs, eventually found Sadge friend's apartment, whereupon bald-pate guy, without a second's hesitation, banged on the door to announce our presence quite happily.

We both walked in, upon which libations and welcomes were proferred by the hostess herself.

But I knew that, from the corner of my eye, I was watching bald-pate guy from that time on till he left - surprisingly early on - because, to my shame, I realised I was playing the age-old game of disliking someone I knew nothing about because he embodied things I either disliked about myself (the propensity to be loud and self-aggrandizing - or just plain arrogant) or desired for myself (the exercised physique, self-confidence, extroversion).

And then I remembered my Leo twelfth house, repository of everything I'm not supposed to want to deal with on the conscious level - often very karmic. With the Twelfth house in the sign of Leo, the characteristics of the self-loving, creative, magnetic, at times arrogant and willful Lion are exactly what my Virgo-rising nature, with its kill-joy over-analysis, inclination toward austerity and self-abnegnation and service despises. And secretly longs to possess.

Of course, once I had a bit of a talk with bald-pate guy, he became far less the object of my prejudice. Indeed, turned out to be not as superhuman as I'd imagined. Getting to know 'villain's' 'diminishes them. Well, diminishes the most-often false impression you have of them at any rate.

Thereafter, I ended the evening with a long chat about Astrology with an actual Leo - another svelte but Amazonian woman, who, like most who have little knowledge about Astrology beyond the dreaded sunsign columns, was quite fascinated about the subject.

Actually, come to think of it, I rather like Leos. When they're not in their Lord and Master of the Universe mode, they can actually be warm, friendly, ultra-creative and fun.

Also, the Leo I had my talk with had a Virgo midheaven. So, she could relate with the qualities of perfectionism, nit-picky critique, and detail-oriented analysis-unto-death in her work. Heh.