The June 2025 edition of this newsletter was titled, What Greece Meant To Me. That was probably the most personal essay I’ve ever published in this context. It had to do with a rather traumatic former life of mine a couple thousand years ago. I was apparently a Gnostic Christian then – and just possibly the kind of astrology that I experienced in that long-ago prior lifetime had a lot to do with me becoming an evolutionary astrologer today. 

There’s a problem though – ostensibly, what we call evolutionary astrology only dates back to the 1970s and 1980s. How could I have experienced anything like it almost two thousand years ago? Strange as it may seem, I have come to believe that a Gnostic living in the Roman Empire of the second century C.E. would actually find much that was quite familiar in the work that we contemporary evolutionary astrologers are doing today, at least at the philosophical level.

WHAT EXACTLY IS GNOSTICISM?

Say NOSS-ta-siz-im, by the way – the “G” is just there to confuse everyone.

Cards on the table: I should start by saying that what I intend to write about here puts me on shaky ground in many ways. My one leg to stand on is that I did earn a degree in Religion from the University of North Carolina in 1971, and I studied Gnosticism there under Dr. John Schutz. But I am not an academic scholar and so in writing about this complex, ambiguous subject I am already skating on thin ice. 

An even more basic problem is that the word “Gnosticism” itself is very slippery. It’s a modern label for a diverse set of beliefs that existed around the Mediterranean basin at about the same time that Christianity was arising. Importantly, many Gnostics were astrological in their thinking – but then again many were not. Gnostics were generally “Christian,” but not all of them were. Many, but not all of them, accepted reincarnation. Eventually, as Christianity became more institutionalized, Gnosticism was even declared a heresy – still, there are some clear traces of it in the New Testament, particularly in the Gospel of John.

As exotic as that ancient history might sound, there are actually striking parallels between those faraway times and the world of modern pop spirituality. Think of one of those shops where you can buy crystals, incense, and Tibetan singing bowls. Think of the books on the bookshelf. They are diverse – as diverse in fact as what was being passed around the Mediterranean world almost two thousand years ago. Today in such a shop, you might for example find a volume that advocates thinking only positive thoughts sitting next to Steven Forrest’s The Book of Pluto. A couple of millennia ago, the Roman Empire – and early Christianity – were in very similar states. Then, as now, there was no Holy See to declare what was true and what was heretical. There wasn’t even an official Bible – the Bible as we know it today was only assembled about two hundred years later, near the end of the 4th century, C.E. And of course the traditional Roman gods and goddesses still had their temples and their devotees. What about Sol Invictus – a religion that very nearly filled the space that Christianity came to fill once the dust settled? Zoroastrianism, anyone? They were all there, all active. 

Gnosticism arose in that cultural matrix and itself reflected much of that complexity. For everything we might say about it, there are counter-currents and exceptions. In preparing this essay, I’ve been reading and rereading the historical literature. I’ve learned that, when it comes to Gnosticism, serious academics are all over the map on the subject. There are even frequent arguments about whether a given text is in fact Gnostic or not. 

The point is that it would be wise to take everything that I am about to write as an impressionistic approximation. For clarity’s sake, I’m also going to leave out a lot of really interesting material – for one example, the way Gnostics were generally much more egalitarian on gender issues compared to many of the early “church fathers.”

Before I dive in, let’s also remember that astrology was everywhere two thousand years ago. What we now know as Hellenistic astrology had exploded. Personal horoscopes were being drawn. And nobody had Uranus, Neptune, or Pluto in their chart – Saturn marked the limits of the known solar system. That’s a fact that will soon become pivotal in our understanding. 

THE GNOSTIC WORLD VIEW

Long ago, human souls fell from a realm of Light – called the Pleroma – into the realm of darkness and matter. Here in this fallen world there is only suffering, pain, and disappointment. The divine spark of our souls is imprisoned in materiality and blinded by it. We mistake ourselves for flesh and bone. Our only hope lies in remembering our true natures and finding our way back to the long-lost realm of Light. At the heart of that remembering was something called gnosis. Often translated as “knowledge,” it represents far more than book learning. Gnosis was something closer to a direct experience of our transcendent natures. You could call it enlightenment. 

So far, we are in familiar mystical territory. 

In Gnostic cosmology, there is an ultimate divinity called the Monad. The term translates neatly as “The One” or even as “Oneness.” For brevity’s sake, I’ll leave out the mythology – suffice to say that through a terrible error, another “god” was created. This was the evil Demiurge – often named Yaldabaoth. He created the material world into which human souls fell and were imprisoned. Worse, he tricked us into thinking that he, not the Monad, represented the ultimate reality.

In the astrological versions of Gnosticism, this Demiurge is identified with the planet Saturn. The lost realm of light lies out beyond Saturn, while the material realm of darkness lies within its orbit. 

Here’s the heart of the matter. This Demiurge created an evil masterpiece: he convinced humanity that he – not the Monad – was the ultimate god. But he is emphatically not the Monad – he is an imposter and a fake. Like Saturn’s lower expressions, he is a heavy-handed law giver. He judges. He demands worship. He punishes disobedience. He says “thou shalt” and “thou shalt not.” And by convincing us that materiality is our true nature, he stands between us and the Light, blinding us to its very existence. 

• One of the many reasons that Gnosticism was declared a heresy is that it often equated the Biblical Yahweh or Jehovah with Yaldabaoth, thus framing the entirety of what we came to know as the Old Testament in a distinctly non-canonical light. In Gnosticism, the “God of our Fathers” essentially became equated with Satan.

As souls tumbled down into the material realm under the whip of the Saturnian Demiurge, they first fatally fell prey to Saturn’s illusion that material reality is the only reality – that there is nothing beyond Saturn, in other words. Think of the first Commandment: “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” In the Gnostic context, those words might give us all chills. That’s Yaldabaoth speaking, not the Monad.

Then as humanity’s fall continued, we absorbed all the bad, soul-blinding qualities of each planet. Jupiter gave us pride and gluttony. Mars gave us rage and violence. Venus gave us lust. Mercury tricked us into thinking we lived in our heads. The Moon made us lazy, timid, and moody. The Sun made each of us believe that we were the center of the universe – it gave us egotism, in other words.

The final result? Here we sit in this degraded condition, hopeless cases – unless gnosis ignites within us and we begin to awaken to our true natures and head back up to the Pleroma, the realm of the true God, the Monad. 

How do we accomplish that ascent? Instead of taking on the negative qualities of each planet, we evolve upwardly through them, struggling to take on their positive qualities. The Sun gives us faith in ourselves, the Moon gives us the ability to care for others. Mercury gives us alertness and the desire to learn. Venus teaches us love. Mars gives us courage – and perhaps a selfless willingness to give our lives for others. Jupiter fills us with healthy pride. And even Saturn – evil Yaldabaoth – finally gives us the spiritual discipline we need to find the Pleroma where it’s been 

hiding all along, deep in our own eternal essence.

PERSPECTIVE

Let me reiterate that Gnosticism was extremely diverse. There can be no coherent summary of Gnosticism that does not grievously over-simplify everything, as I have doubtlessly done here. You could find Gnostics who believed everything that I just wrote and Gnostics who would argue with most of it. In fact, if you had a time machine and went back to the Holy Lands in the second century A.D. and started looking around for a “Gnostic” to interview, you would not have found anyone who answered to that label. As we have seen, the word itself didn’t even exist back then – it’s purely the invention of 19th and 20th century historians of religion. 

In writing this essay, I’ve drawn on several sources, including the Nag Hammadi scrolls which were discovered in Egypt in 1945 and which vastly multiplied the number of Gnostic texts to which scholars had access. In case you want to pursue any of this more deeply, I’ll list the three best books I found at the end. I also owe a great debt to Robert Hand who delivered a terrific talk at a NORWAC banquet some years ago in which he covered similar territory. He ended that talk with a memorable meditation, taking us all upward through the planetary spheres. 

THE ROOTS OF EVOLUTIONARY ASTROLOGY?

The essential philosophical parallels between Gnosticism and evolutionary astrology are very clear. 

• Both systems are unabashedly metaphysical and they are both based on an astrological model of the evolution of consciousness. 

• In both systems, the astrological symbols have both dark sides and higher meanings. How we embody them is up to us. With “gnosis,” we can get them right. Without it, we are eaten up by the traps they set for us.

• As we trace the pattern of increasingly positive responses to each planet, we see the outline of a systematic evolutionary path leading step-by-step toward something in the category of Heaven, Enlightenment, or Salvation. 

• Again as in both Gnosticism and evolutionary astrology, one lifetime is not long enough for anyone to make the journey to full gnosis. The idea of reincarnation solves that. 

Who knows how Gnostic astrologers were working two thousand years ago? Was personal astrology part of their practice? If so, in helping people reach toward the Pleroma, did they have specific advice for someone whose Mercury was in Cancer and the third house? To my knowledge, there are no surviving records of any of that. Perhaps they were lost. Perhaps they never existed. I’ve not studied Hellenistic astrology myself, at least not in a deep way. Maybe someone immersed in that field such as Chris Brennan or Demetra George would be aware of connections of which I am unaware. 

Concerning all of that, one striking thought has been pressing at me ever since many of us in the school made our pilgrimage to Greece in May 2025. Fifteen years ago, in preparing the concluding chapter of my book Yesterday’s Sky, I wrote these words:

I cannot prove what I am about to say, but my intuitive feeling in developing the principles that underlie this book was more one of remembering something than of creating it. I believe that the knowledge of most of these principles existed in the past. To be sure, there is no recorded precedent in astrological history for these particular techniques. From any academic astrological perspective, they are new. For whatever their worth, they were clearly created by a group of astrologers, mostly in America, over the past generation or two. But my guts tell me to question that.

Now, in reflecting on Gnosticism, I am finally feeling some concrete, academic support for what was only an instinctive feeling fifteen or twenty years ago. Is evolutionary astrology in fact that old? Or perhaps even older? Were the first evolutionary astrologers actually Gnostics? Maybe it depends ultimately on how we define both terms. In any case, humans have been using the map the planets provide us to help souls find their way home for a long, long time. Gnostics did it. We do it. And who knows where the Gnostics got the idea? Egypt? China? Atlantis? 

All of us who practice evolutionary astrology can be proud to be part of that ancient lineage. We’re links in a long, sacred chain – a chain that is only growing stronger during our time in the world. 

Are we the new Gnostics? You decide.

________________________________

Jonas, Hans. The Gnostic Religion: The Message of the Alien God & the Beginnings of Christianity. Second, enlarged edition, 1963.

Pagels, Elaine. The Gnostic Gospels, 1989.

Rosicrucian Digest. Gnosticism, Volume 11, #2, 2011

Have a look at this chart for the afternoon of July 21st. Uranus is just over the line into Gemini, while the Sun is in the last degree of Cancer. Only a little over one degree separates them from being in a perfect 60-degree sextile aspect. But they are in the “wrong” signs – Gemini and Cancer are adjacent in the Zodiac, not separated by one sign like a “true” sextile. Strictly in terms of sign-energy, that’s not a “harmonious” sextile – it’s a clashy semi-sextile. 

Try thinking musically: are we looking at the harmonious sound of middle C with an E played above it or the cacophonous sound of a C and a D played together?

I believe that the answer is a little of both and confronting that confusing insight brings us face to face with a fundamental paradox built into aspect theory – one that we can state as a simple question: are aspects between planets as we usually think or are they actually between signs?

As an astrologer steeped in modern tradition, when I was younger that question never crossed my mind. I knew that aspects were “obviously” between planets. We might quibble about orbs, but the basic idea was clear – a sextile was simply a 60-degree angle between any two astrological points. I have to thank my friends in the world of Hellenistic astrology for offering an alternative perspective: that aspects are actually about the relationships among the signs themselves. Planets are only along for the ride. 

That second sign-based perspective makes practical astrological sense too. In fact most of us think that way all the time when we’re reflecting on the astrology of relationships. In the modern pop astrological framework, “everybody knows that a Cancer shouldn’t marry an Aries.” (That’s not actually an idea I would endorse, but we certainly hear it a lot.) Note how no one who makes that kind of pronouncement is fussing about degrees. They would all agree that someone born on June 23rd was a Cancer and that someone born on April 18th was an Aries and that any relationship between them would be a catastrophe. 

But think about it: an early Cancer and a late Aries like that might actually have a close sextile aspect between their natal Suns. So is that good news or bad? 

In my own practice of synastry, I actually do tend to use these whole sign aspects – any Cancer planets in Hollister’s chart are effectively square to any Aries planets in Palmer’s chart. Regardless of which planets we are talking about, one is charged with Aries energy and the other is charged with Cancer energy and that basic tension between aggression and sensitivity will make itself felt in their relationship regardless of the planets’ degree positions. 

In synastry, I pay particular attention to that “whole sign” approach with interaspects between the Sun, Moon, and Ascendant, along with Venus and Mars. Meanwhile, with the rest of the planets, I tend toward a more modern, purely geometrical, reading of aspects – which naturally sometimes embraces planets being in the “wrong sign” for the aspect, as we just saw in our opening example of that Sun/Uranus sextile. 

The angle is right, but the signs are wrong.

Still speaking of my own practice, with transits and progressions I use the modern geometrical definitions of aspects – degrees of separation, not sign positions. Ditto for my work with birthcharts – although even in birthchart work, I often make an exception. If a Scorpio with a Leo Moon comes to me for a reading, I’ll almost always talk about the integrative challenges presented by that “Sun/Moon square” regardless of their degree positions. Forget about degrees – Scorpio is Scorpio and Leo is Leo and there will always be some core archetypal tensions between those two signs.

Note how I keep saying “in my practice.” All of this is just what has worked for me effectively in the counseling room. It’s what I have learned in my daily life as an astrologer as I tried to sort out this basic sign-vs-planet ambiguity that’s inherent in aspect theory. At a theoretical level, I am all over the map with this question, in other words. I claim no consistency at all – only the lessons of experience. 

• Are aspects geometrical angles between planets as the modern astrologers say or are they archetypal relationships among signs as our Mediterranean astrological ancestors thought?

The more I wrestle with that question, the more I believe that the best answer is “yes.” Both perspectives are true. And that means that the living reality of aspects is actually a very slippery subject.

Still, some dimensions of the mystery are pretty clear from our actual experience. Let me give you an example. You solar Aquarians out there – are you feeling Pluto’s energies in your lives now? Easy question, right? I’m guessing that the answer in most cases will be yes, even if your Sun falls near the end of Aquarius. Pluto in Aquarius is currently impacting all Aquarians – that’s a demonstration of whole sign aspects in action. Meanwhile, I suspect that if your Sun lies in the first few degrees of Aquarius, right now you’re really in “Pluto City.”  It’s a lot more vivid and intense for you than it is for those late-Aquarians.

That’s just one example, but it contains a key practical principle.

• Whole sign aspects work in practical, observable ways, but when an aspect moves within modern orbs, its action is vastly more dramatic and obvious.  

That’s all pretty intuitive. We can take it a practical step further by remembering two of our cardinal principles of interpretation: (a) first things first, and (b) you’ll never have enough time to “talk about everything.” Strategic editing of our presentations is fundamental to achieving clarity with our clients. And that means that in practice you’ll often leave out the effects of whole sign aspects even though they are real simply because they don’t pass the “first things first” test. At any given moment other configurations are probably more pressing. 

In my experience, all that is true both in a transits and progressions context and also with natal chart analysis. 

HYBRID VIGOR

We are still left with the knotty question I raised right at the beginning of this essay: what do we do with aspects that are in the wrong signs? I was taught to call them “Out of Quality” aspects, but I suspect that just saying “in the wrong sign” is more common nowadays. Certainly if you put it that way, any astrologer would understand what you meant.

The truth of it is that such aspects are truly hybrid. In our initial example, there is a strong sextile between the Sun and Uranus, suggesting mutual excitation and encouragement. At the same time, we cannot ignore the underlying archetypal tension between Cancer and Gemini. All of those levels of interaction must be taken into account as we unravel the full significance of this aspect. 

This is a good time to remember an overarching principle of evolutionary astrology: all aspects are about integration. With this Sun/Uranus situation, we just have a bit more integrating to do.

Let’s break it down. There’s a powerful push toward individuation implicit in the Uranian energies. Via the sextile, Uranus is stimulating the solar ego to act boldly and unilaterally on its own behalf. The risk of heedlessness and insensitivity is worth mentioning, but basically this aspect is a big green light for decisive, self-oriented action. 

All of that is based on the strict “it’s a sextile” interpretation, and that is definitely part of the truth – but let’s not forget that the clashing undercurrent of the semi-sextile between Gemini and Cancer is operating too. Remember though – in evolutionary astrology, we never say the words “bad aspect.” That dissonance can be helpful even if it’s unpleasant. Think of it like this: maybe you’ve got a friend who loves you enough to tell you things that you don’t always want to hear – there’s an example of a so-called “bad aspect” in action. They can be good for you in a “corrective” sort of way.

So, the case of our Sun/Uranus sextile on July 21, what does this “wrong sign” perspective add to our understanding?

The Sun is in Cancer, so it’s sensitive. It knows it could get hurt. It is therefore inclined toward caution. Meanwhile, Uranus in Gemini is all, “damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.”

There’s the tension. That’s how the semi-sextile dimensions of this aspect play out. They add notes of uncertainty and ambivalence to the energetic matrix. At their best, the Sun and Uranus both benefit from it. Cancer’s caution might help the person evade some nasty surprises. Uranus being in alert, open-minded Gemini might open up channels to some new “outside the box” information that could make a helpful, fresh contribution to whatever situation is arising. 

All in all, what’s trying to happen here is indeed centered on the bold pulse of individuation and self-claiming that the modern “by-the-orbs” sextile promises – but in this case it is tempered and made wiser by some uncomfortable yet timely doubts and questions. 

You can, in other words, feel both the effects of the geometrical aspect and the whole sign one.

And that’s how aspects “in the wrong signs” actually work.

Just a quick word before I begin. The essay that follows is a lot more personal than what I usually write. No lie – some of it is me doing therapy on myself! But I hope it’s more than that. What I’m hoping to demonstrate here is something like “living evolutionary astrology” – an approach not just to our craft, but to life . . . one where we let the symbols interact with the rest of the clues that experience gives us, letting them help us in our struggle to actively penetrate more deeply into the reality of the psyche – yours and mine!

My column for September 2024 was titled “Greece, The Moon and Me.” In essence, it was about how I was feeling spooked about our then-upcoming Greek adventure. No need to repeat all those astrological details here. Suffice to say that fifty years earlier, with Pluto opposing my Moon, the door to Greece slammed in my face. Now, with Pluto sextiling my Moon, it was opening again. Mix a trip to a foreign land with unresolved Pluto issues and you can see why I felt nervous. Let me add that I have a Pluto/Descendant astrocartographic line running through Greece and you get the picture: as Michelle and I boarded the flights to Athens, something karmic was definitely afoot for me. Skeletons in my psychic closet were beginning to stir.

With my natal 12th house Scorpio south node dead-square my Mars, any evolutionary astrologer could see that some of that ripening karma would make a good horror movie. Toss in the fact that transiting Pluto is currently conjuncting that Mars while squaring the node, and my chart was locked and loaded for something pretty intense to happen. Should I get on that airplane at all?

I try never to let astrology scare me, but maintaining that good attitude took some work this time.

Right on schedule, a month before we left for Greece, I basically went blind in my right eye. I had a sudden retinal detachment. I’m fortunate to be living in the age of lasers when such a thing can be fixed, but it’s still a long, difficult process. As I write these words, I’m still unable to see properly and I’m facing a second and third eye surgery. Karma? Since my early thirties, I’ve been aware that I was intentionally blinded in a prior life. My first inkling of it happened when a very gentle eye doctor tried to fit me with contact lenses. That was the only time in my life when I’ve experienced a literal cold sweat. My reflexes simply would not allow it. 

(Mars squaring a south node often suggests unresolved past life issues around being hurt by some kind of violence. Further focusing that idea, our five senses are symbolized by both Mercury and the 3rd house. That’s me – in my chart, Mars is separated from Mercury by about one degree and they’re both in the 3rd house. Both planets also make a square to the south node nearly exactly. A very literal interpretation: violence involving the eyes and ears!) 

Why would anyone want to blind me? Well, Mercury and the 3rd house are not only about the five senses – they’re about speech too. That Mars is in rebellious Aquarius, and since Mars rules my south node, it represents me in the prior life. Putting all these pieces together, it’s pretty clear that my big mouth once got me into trouble with some nasty characters. 

So with transiting Pluto triggering all of that, I arrived in Athens as a one-eyed man. Mister Cyclops.The lack of normal binocular vision made everything blurry. Having no depth perception meant walking on uneven ground was difficult. Going up and down stairs was treacherous. Because of my hearing loss, I do a lot of lip-reading – but bad vision made that harder. And if you’re from the USA, just try lip-reading someone “speaking Australian!” Because their words sound different, their lips are moving differently as they form them. During our whole Greek adventure, I probably understood about half of what was said to me. As you can imagine, that’s a trigger for constant low-level stress. Because of the surgery and my eye problems, I also felt old and weak – and paradoxically both isolated by not being able to hear and yet dependent on others because of not being able to see. 

All of that makes simple psychological sense in the present tense – but with Pluto and the nodes in the mixture, something far deeper was happening. This was not the first time that I’d had those feelings. They were surfacing again. It was time to revisit them, and perhaps to make a more conscious response to them. 

• Remember: it’s the south node of the Moon that we are talking about. What reincarnates most directly is what the prior life felt like. 

TWO QUICK IMAGES

At Mycenae, I made my way up a hill fairly easily, but coming back down the other side was rough because it turned out to be a lot steeper. To avoid stumbling, I was taking baby steps. One of our class members – Gabriele Ranfagni, from Italy – kindly saw my plight and let me steady myself with a hand on his shoulder as we descended. Talk about deja vu! I experienced a distinct emotional memory of being a blind man being led by a friend. I don’t believe this was the first time that Gabriele ever helped me walk either. Later I learned that he has the south node in Taurus and conjunct his Moon, all opposite my own south node by sign. In the formal language of evolutionary astrology, the face he presented to me in a prior life was a solid, steadying, nurturing one. Once again the present echoed the past. I was asking the universe to set everything up again, including the same cast of characters. I needed another look at it.

• In times when the nodes are stimulated, we meet people we knew in prior lifetimes. Had Gabriele actually been there for me when I was newly blind many centuries ago?

My second image is more embarrassing. As I walked around in Athens with our students, it was hard for me to keep up their pace. I was struggling to not trip over the uneven sidewalks. A good friend tried to take my arm to steady me, but I actually didn’t want that help since it threw my balance off even more. I was afraid that despite her good intentions she would unwittingly make me fall and that I would bring her down with me. When I asked her not to do that, she playfully teased me about how “Capricorns can’t accept help” – which of course contains a kernel of truth. But I was preoccupied with trying not to trip. Uncharacteristically, I snapped at her, and she didn’t deserve that.

• In times when the nodes are stimulated, we experience distorted or exaggerated emotional reactions. Feelings from the past loom up out of the psychic depths. If you’re mindful enough to notice, those exaggerations are a certain sign that you are re-experiencing an old hurt – and that you can possibly now respond to it more consciously.

TWO THINGS I REALLY DON’T WANT TO WRITE ABOUT

When Pluto knocks on your door, unconscious material is trying to become conscious – that’s our axiom. But why was it made unconscious in the first place? Naturally the answer is because the perception was unacceptable to the conscious mind – too threatening to our egos or our self-image for us to integrate it. There’s a sure sign that you are on the right track with surfacing karma: you notice that you’d rather do anything – go to the dentist or clean the house – than think about it. While I was in Greece, synchronicity dished up two examples of exactly this sort of resistance in me. In my original draft of this essay, I didn’t include them – the Dark Side of the Force almost won. As you read these two tales, you may wonder why it was hard for me to write about them – they’re actually pretty simple and not really so embarrassing. Again, the answer is not in the stories themselves – it’s in the way they resonate with something unresolved from long, long ago.

Here’s the first story. In Athens, Michelle and I were ripped off by a taxi driver. I’ll spare you the details, which are as tawdry as most crimes. The essence of it is that I trusted him and he used that trust to trick me. How many taxi cab rides have I taken in this lifetime? I’ve never had any trouble, so my mindset was one of trust and normalcy. As soon I realized what had happened, my mind immediately leapt ahead – I could see that if I challenged him, it would quickly escalate into a police situation and that the police would side with him. Somehow I just knew that – or felt that I did. He drove away and I was out a pile of Euros.

Why did this petty little crime happen? Remember: my astrocartographic Pluto/Descendant line runs through Greece. The Descendant – or cusp of the 7th house – is always about trust, so there’s the connection. In terms of the karma that was ripening for me in Greece, one piece of it is about me trusting the wrong people in a prior lifetime. It’s about betrayal. What about my certainty that the police would turn against me? Does that reflect a prior life situation in which “the authorities” were corrupt and arrayed in opposition to me? I think so. 

Clues, clues, clues . . . because of synchronicity, they are everywhere. And during Plutonian times, your own mind doesn’t want to register any of them.

The second story is a weird one. A woman whom I don’t know emailed me about an astrological theory she had developed. She wanted to send me some of her writing. Because of my public visibility, that kind of request happens quite a lot. I’m generally happy to help. Oddly, she insisted that she wanted me to be the one to write about her ideas. That’s something I had never heard before. In any case, the next thing I knew she sent me a second, rather “superior,” email denouncing me for being “mired in this world.” It felt like she was trying to position herself as my salvation. 

A self-appointed guru whom I had never met arrives unbidden with a plan for my future, claiming detailed knowledge of “my case?” What was she thinking? Me, “mired in this world?” My first instinct was to respond to her by pleading guilty as charged – and then asking, “and you’re not?” 

But I didn’t. I didn’t respond at all. And at this point I’ve not heard back from her or received the pages she was planning to send me. 

Weirdly, the word she used for the God she was quoting on my behalf was “the Monad” – a term rarely heard outside of the Gnostic traditions. Stay tuned. You’ll hear about Gnosticism again very soon. Clues, clues, clues . . .

So what was that situation all about? I’d mark the whole interaction as strange but forgettable, except that it had Pluto’s eternal fingerprints on it. What I mean is that I clung to it, worried about it, planned responses in my head . . . it carried that tell-tale extra psychic charge, in other words. That’s Pluto’s signature. That little episode is another piece of my karmic puzzle, another echo from two thousand years ago. I suspect there were “spiritual” people back then who were standing in judgment of me, “worried about my soul” – the difference was that back then their judgement had far sharper teeth. This strange woman may have actually been one of them. Again, during times of nodal stimulus, we meet the very souls with whom we have unresolved karma.

PLUTO AS NODAL RULER

So far, when I’ve spoken about the ruler of my south node, I’ve been referring to Mars. As always, I feel it’s important to honor the classical rulerships. But what about my natal Pluto, Scorpio’s modern ruler? It too would have to be part of my karmic story. Pluto not only rules my south node, but it is also in a mysterious quintile aspect to it, while forming a tight quincunx to my Sun.

In our formal analytic methodology, as one of the planetary rulers of my south node, Pluto represents me in a prior life. It’s in the 9th house. Religion? Travel? It’s in Leo – was I in some position of power, “performing” somehow? Putting two and two together, was I preaching far from home? (Note the present-day corroboration: I was doing exactly that in Greece!) Add my node-ruling Mars and how my mouth got me into trouble – was what I was preaching viewed as “Aquarian” blasphemy by people who were bloody-minded enough to punish me for it? Did my intense, not-so-diplomatic, Plutonian nature press their buttons? 

Figuring out who we were in past lives is fraught business for many obvious reasons. Our ace in the hole is that we have a variety of methods for accomplishing it. Evolutionary astrology is only one of them. Intuition and dream work naturally play a big role. So can hypnotic regressions. And then there are psychics – and the good ones can be uncanny in their accuracy. Two such gifted souls have had a real impact on me in ways that are relevant to the story I am telling here.

One was my root spiritual teacher, Marian Starnes. In my early twenties, she foresaw that I would face hearing loss. She said it was because I couldn’t bear to hear the screams of people who were being tortured. (There’s a long story there.) It was many years before I realized she had gently nudged me toward a memory of having once been tortured myself and not being able to stand my own screams. I am pretty sure that being blinded was part of that experience – and that this particular bit of unpleasant karma that was now surfacing in the form of my retinal detachment.

A second psychic carries us deeper into the story. She is a woman whom I’ve never actually met in person. Her name is Mary Roach and she works in informal association with the Edgar Cayce Center in Virginia Beach. My partner Michelle is an old friend of hers. When Michelle and I were falling in love, she had a reading with Mary in which she asked about me. Mary was very specific. Among other things, she said that I had been a Gnostic Christian sometime during the first couple of centuries A.D. In other words, almost two thousand years ago, I had been a traveling spiritual teacher banging my head against the wall of Roman pagan culture, talking about the teachings of Jesus. 

If you know the Bible at all, you’ve probably bumped into Saint Paul’s two letters to the Corinthians. Perhaps these beautiful words are familiar to you: “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but have not love, I am only a clanging cymbal.” While in Greece, we actually stopped for coffee in Corinth – it’s the same place Saint Paul visited. The point is that as Christianity spread outward from the environs of Jerusalem into the larger Roman Empire, it first seeped into the lands we now know as Greece, Turkey, and Italy – where it was not always welcomed. As Mary Roach divined, I was part of that perilous evangelical process.

Mary specifically mentioned Gnosticism, echoing that weird woman’s use of the term “Monad.” (Say: NOSS-ta-siz-im) That was a real goose-bumper for me. I studied Gnosticism fairly deeply as I was earning my degree in Religion at the University of North Carolina. It resonated with me because it is in part an astrological religion. Early Christianity was extremely diverse. Gnosticism eventually was declared heretical and basically disappeared – only to be reincarnated, more or less, in the form of evolutionary astrology. That’s a big oversimplification, but it contains a germ of real truth. Suffice to say that one thing I took home from our trip to Greece was the realization that I need to revisit Gnosticism and write about it. Look for an article  down the road. 

As we contemplate these various clues, you can feel the exact nature of my former-life “heresy” coming into focus. Many of these pieces of the puzzle were in my mind before we landed in Athens, but they hadn’t yet jelled into such a clear understanding.

Let me give you one more piece of the puzzle.

ME AND GREEK MYTHOLOGY

With the group on this trip, we visited a spectacular site called Epidaurus, famous for its huge amphitheater. While there, Lisa Jones beckoned several of us down an overgrown path at the very edge of the historical area, one that seemed to be leading nowhere. There we came to the Propylaia – a sacred structure built around 300 B.C., it was once the entrance to the precinct dedicated to Asklepios, the god of healing. Not much is left there today except a stone floor and an incredible vibe. A group of about fifteen of us sat down on the stones and meditated quietly. 

As I sat there letting the energy of the Propylaia wash through me, a lightning bolt of insight entered my mind. The majority of psychologically-oriented astrologers, at least of the deeper sort, love Greek mythology and use it all the time to cast light on the symbolism of signs and planets.

Not me! I’ve never paid much attention to it at all. 

I’m not totally ignorant of those myths nor am I opposed to using them, but I have never had the slightest desire to employ the Greek myths in my astrological practice or my teaching. In the FCEA curriculum, you’ll see only a few hints of it, mostly in connection with the asteroids and Eris. Suddenly as I sat there meditating on those ancient stones, I understood why. As an early Christian missionary, what was I preaching against? Obviously the answer is the old pagan cosmology – Zeus, Hera, Apollo, Poseidon, and the rest of the gang. Apparently, I still harbor a certain resistance to them now, two thousand years down the road.

At that time two millennia ago, those gods and goddesses were dead. Roman citizens were required by law to make sacrifices at their various temples. It wasn’t voluntary or joyful. People just didn’t feel it anymore. That old religion, which had once been vibrant, had become as empty an experience as what happens in many churches today. Back then, if you wanted to experience real ju-ju, if you wanted to catch fire with the holy spirit, what you needed was the new magic: Jesus Christ. As ever in history, these collective visitations of holy energy come and go – and nothing makes them dry up faster than rigid theology, a deadening, bored priesthood, and bureaucratic institutions. That’s true whether we are talking about the ancient Greek pantheon or what’s happened over the past fifteen centuries to the reality of Jesus and the original fire of the Christian path.

SO WHAT DID I LEARN IN GREECE?

I’m still processing all this – and thanks, by the way, for indulging me. I’m obviously talking a lot about myself in this edition of Master’s Musings. Writing about it is a healing process for me. As always, I hope that in telling my own story, the basic principles of evolutionary astrology shine through in a humanized way. I’m also always happy to try to illustrate how evolutionary astrology can play an active role in helping us examine our own lives. It can take us so much further than, “uh oh, here comes Pluto.” I am also sure that I still have more to uncover – Pluto will be hanging around with me for quite a while yet – but right now, I’m focusing on four practical lessons.

• None of us can make it on our own. Humans need each other. Long ago, such interdependency was forced on me in a cruel way. I resist it today because I associate it with bitterness, cruelty, and betrayal. I need to work on that! 

• Despite my age I generally do not feel old, but old is what I felt in Greece. I need to better prepare myself for that reality.

• I’ve got a ton of issues around my eyes. I don’t like anyone or anything near them. Thanks to astrological understanding, I am consciously focussing on the good will, competence, and caring of my eye surgeon, trying to let her help me replace fear with the trust she deserves. Thank you, Dr. Camille Harrison – who incidentally, it turns out, was a Classics major (!). Like most doctors today, she always needs to keep one eye on the clock, but we had a five minute discussion about Saint Augustine. Karma! 

• I really need to revisit Gnosticism. I’ve always said that I felt that I was “remembering” evolutionary astrology – that I felt that the basic system was ancient even though I had no proof of that. I think the proof has been sitting there right in front of me for fifty years, but I was unable to see it because it was locked up behind this unresolved – and unconscious – prior life wound.

So thank you, Greece and thank you, Pluto! Thank you Lisa Jones and Catie Cadge for making this journey a reality. Thank you to the 85 people from 21 countries who came to Athens and poured their good energy into the classroom. I surfed the waves of your life-force for four days of teaching and, given my weakened condition, I don’t think that I could have kept it up without your love and your soulful, intelligent attention. 

God bless our tribe and the sacred flames we feed!

On March 19, as we were preparing for one of our frequent Question-and-Answer Zoom sessions, Penelope contacted me with a minor concern about our monthly “chart winner.”  As usual, many people had submitted their charts, hoping to be the one whom we would put in the spotlight for a half hour or so at the end of the Q&A time. Penelope had done the usual drill, using a random method to pick the winner. When she had chosen, she quickly emailed me with her problem. “I am confirming the Ascendant degree with the chart winner. She was born in Brooklyn at a very specific time (3:26am), but she was not specific about exactly which Brooklyn location.”

Penelope was right. Brooklyn is big! It stretches about fifteen miles from Greenpoint in the north to Brighton Beach in the south. Was she right to worry about coming up with the wrong chart unless we knew precisely where in Brooklyn this woman was born? We all know that the place of someone’s birth is a critical element in our “holy trinity” of birth date, birth time, and  birth  location. How big an error in her Ascendant and house cusps might we introduce if we had her being born in Greenpoint when she was actually born in Brighton Beach?

The answer was easy to discover with a few minutes’ work. I can’t remember the details of the chart, so I just did some fresh calculations here at my desk as I wrote this little essay. I happen to be writing on April 25. Arbitrarily, I set up a chart for noon today in Brooklyn – but I altered the latitude that my Winstar program gave for “Brooklyn” to reflect a birth way up in the north end of the borough, in Greenpoint. There, I got an Ascendent at 23 degrees Cancer 58 minutes. I then did the same thing for the south end of Brooklyn, at Brighton Beach. There the Ascendant is 23 degrees Cancer 51 minutes. 

The two Ascendants are indeed different, but only by seven minutes of arc. That’s too small a change to make any practical difference at all. No worry, in other words. It didn’t matter where in Brooklyn our chart winner was born. Saying “Brooklyn” was good enough.

That was a north/south change. What about east/west? That would naturally have more impact on the Ascendant. Here let’s look at the worst case scenario: a true megalopolis. Shanghai, China, stretches about seventy-five miles in an east/west direction. I applied the same method I used with Brooklyn, altering the atlas listing of Shanghai’s latitude and longitude to reflect two widely-spaced places of birth that were both technically within the city limits. In the east along the coast, that calculation shows an Ascendant of 1 degree Leo 49 minutes. In the west, seventy-five miles away, the Ascendant backs off to 0 degrees Leo 47’. It’s shifted over one degree, in other words. And there, even though the change is not huge, we might potentially run into some trouble.

The takeaway is that if you are dealing with a client who was born in one of the world’s truly gigantic cities – Mexico City, Mumbai, and so forth – it might be worth asking them for some clarification about exactly where in the city they were born.

By the way, when I simply accept the atlas’s figures for the position of Shanghai, they point to the central district of the city. I am not sure exactly what the protocol is for choosing the latitudes and longitudes in the various astrology atlases, but I suspect that approach is typical. And sensible. The point is that if we had simply accepted that given “downtown” latitude and longitude and used it in setting up a chart for someone “born in Shanghai,” that one degree shift from east to west would be considerably mitigated, and probably drop down to no more than about a half-degree of error. And that’s well within the margins of acceptability for our work.

The bottom line is that when Penelope wondered about where in Brooklyn our chart winner was born, she really did not need to worry at all. “I was born in Brooklyn” is enough for us to set up a chart in which we can have confidence.

THE REAL ELEPHANT IN THE LIVING ROOM . . .

 . . . is not the place of birth, but rather the time of birth. Even small errors in the time, unlike discrepancies in latitude and longitude, can quickly make a big difference.

Our chart winner had what appears to be a carefully timed birth of 3:26 AM. But what exactly do we mean by “birth?” Some of you women who are reading my words are mothers – and Happy Mothers’ Day, by the way! But you know very well that it wasn’t as if one day you were walking along minding your own business when suddenly, pop, there’s your baby. 

Some births are fast, some are slow, but none are “instant,” where there would be an easily and universally identified minute of birth. Is the moment of birth the emergence of the child’s head, the full emergence, the first breath, the cutting of the umbilical cord? I’ve heard all of them and I really don’t know which theory is correct.

Our chart winner was born at 3:26 AM? Hmmm . . .

And of course there’s human error, clocks running fast or slow, especially in the pre-digital days.The time of birth is ever the Achilles’ Heel of astrological practice. My birth certificate states that I was born (whatever that means) at 3:30 AM. Through my own experience of the timing of events in my life, I’ve rectified that back to 3:22. And that change has thrown my Ascendant off by nearly three degrees, enough to make a significant difference in my chart.

I suspect errors of that order are common and widespread.

• The underlying point for our purposes here is that any slight error in one’s house cusps that is introduced by ambivalence about where in a given town or city a person was born is eclipsed by the almost-inevitable uncertainties that are built into a birth time, even a seemingly accurate one.

So how can we live with these wild cards? Carefully, is the answer. We get the best birth information we can get and we set up a chart, trusting it to be more or less accurate. If we have an ongoing relationship with a client, we might start to notice small but systematic errors in the timing of events in that person’s life – things happen a little sooner or a little later than we would have predicted. Perhaps that time of birth needs some adjustment, just like my own.

Soon we will have an honors elective available about the technical process of rectifying a birth time. That will be FCEA 402 – and if you have much Virgo energy, welcome to paradise! It’s a picky process, but it will get you up to Warp speed with your understanding how transits, progressions, and solar arcs actually work faster than any other method I know.

Until then, don’t sweat the place of birth – but keep a suspicious eye on everyone’s time of birth.

Keeping aware of what’s happening in your own chart is an essential practice. There’s nothing that brings you to the heart of astrology faster than watching your own experience mirrored there. Individually we can all do that. In that same spirit, let’s have a quick peek at what is currently unfolding in our school’s chart.

Let’s start with a biggie: on January 13th, our solar arc north node entered Leo where it will remain for the next three decades. Just six days later, the nodal axis also made a square to the position of Uranus on the school’s inception chart. Meanwhile, our progressed Moon finally hit our Ascendant on March 3rd. That means that we will be in this mission-critical “new beginning” stage until the Moon progresses into the 2nd house. That doesn’t happen until January 7, 2027, so we now have the rest of this year and all of next year to get ourselves properly launched into the fresh twenty-seven year lunar cycle.

• That means that two different important configurations both are pointing to the start of a three-decades-long cycle. The stakes are high!

Probably the single most important factor in developmental astrology – the astrology of transits, progressions, and solar arcs – is the progressed Sun itself.The only trouble with it is that it’s very slow, moving at just about one degree per year, so you generally don’t want to hold your breath waiting for it to get anywhere. Not this year, not for our school! The progressed Sun is super-busy, making not one but two major aspects before the year’s end. On October 23rd it forms a square to our powerful 7th house Sagittarian Jupiter. Less than a month later, on November 18th, it sextiles our Pluto, which lies in Capricorn in the 9th house lined up with Saturn and the south node of the Moon. Given the slow speed of the progressed Sun, those aspects are definitely already activated.

What about transits? Contrary to what many astrological doomsayers might have predicted, we’ve actually been thriving under a relentless onslaught of Saturn energy. Between April 2024 and this past January, Saturn has been crisscrossing through a series of conjunctions with both our Sun and our Moon. The last hit on the Moon happened as recently as January 25th. Just as we would counsel our clients to do, rather than curling up and dying, we have worked hard and matured under Saturn’s rays. During this period, our registration has actually grown. That makes me happy for two reasons. The first is obvious. The second is that it feels good to make monkeys out of those astrological doomsayers!

In all charts, there’s always a lot going on by transit, but we’ve got one more standout to put on the table: on July 7th, Uranus enters Gemini and exactly one month later it makes its first precise contact with the school’s Ascendant. It will retrograde back through that exact conjunction on October 5th and hit it a final time going direct on May 15, 2026 – then settle in for a seven year passage through our 1st house. The fabled Lord of Earthquakes and Lightning Bolts is coming for a visit.

Here’s a quadwheel that shows the school’s natal chart at the center, then progressions, solar arcs, and finally transits in the outermost wheel. (Personally I find these quadwheels a bit overwhelming visually, but at least all the relevant positions I’ve discussed are visible there.)

THE BIG PICTURE

There’s more of course, but those are the major pieces of the puzzle. What can we make of them? What is the universe telling us about our path? How do we stay in harmony with the larger cosmic flow?

If the school were a client of mine, I would build my presentation around those seven events I just mentioned. In fact, even though there are dozens of other interesting astrological forces at play, I might very well limit myself to them. This is always a drum I like to beat: you don’t have to talk about everything. In fact, you cannot – there is never enough time. Say I have two hours with a client and these seven configurations to discuss. Crudely, that’s seventeen minutes per configuration, which doesn’t sound too bad. But the reality is that you need to not only describe these seven individual transits, progressions, and solar arcs, you also need to tie them together into a coherent, meaningful whole. And naturally if your client is sitting with you or you’re engaged on a Zoom screen, that person will very likely have a few things to say too. That “seventeen minutes” per configuration quickly collapses into much less time.

• The goal of a professional astrological reading is to leave the client with some clarity, some practical, actionable tips, and a feeling of encouragement about their journey – not a spinning head jammed with confusing jargon and an endless string of dates.

With a client, I’d actually take a couple of hours to explain this astrological weather report. Here in this newsletter, my goal is more modest. I want to talk about how I would strategize everything in my own mind before I said one word. I know that before I open my mouth, I need to have a basic narrative in my head. What are the broad outlines of the story – the CliffsNotes version, so to speak? If you’re clear about that, you will have a handle on the whole presentation. You will know what the client’s takeaway will be. You’ve avoided the single greatest peril that faces any working astrologer: confusion. Getting lost in the astrological labyrinth is the easiest thing in the world – and remember: if you’re even slightly confused, your client will be totally confused!

So: the FCEA is clearly moving into a new beginning. Anything significant hitting the Ascendant is ample evidence of that, and we’ve got two of them: the progressed Moon and transiting Uranus. The former emphasizes a need to follow our heart’s guidance: our intuitive function, which has been honed and prepared during the Moon’s long passage through the 12th house. The upcoming bolt of Uranian energy tells us to be open to innovation and to the unexpected. We’ll need to individuate and to be wary of judging ourselves by the standards of “our culture,” which is basically to say the rest of the astrological community – other astrological schools, in particular.

Our road is the road less traveled.

In practical terms, Uranus often correlates with the impact of new technologies. Openness in that area can be a great advantage, so we should keep our eyes open for those kinds of “wave of the future” possibilities.

Just as the progressed Moon’s passage through our 12th house can be understood as part of our preparation for this momentous new beginning, similarly we can frame the Saturnian maturation we have just experienced as also having laid the foundation for what is coming.

• Our narrative is founded on the simple idea that we have been preparing for a fresh start and that now the time has come for us to light the fuse on it.

That simple overarching idea adds a unifying structure to the big picture. Instead of drinking from the firehose of fragmented astrological details, we now have a single, comprehensible narrative framework that pulls everything together.

Now that we have that basic idea understood, the ground under us is solid enough to bear some more complexity, so let’s keep going. Our solar arc north node has entered Leo, and to get it right, the new beginning we have just been describing must be informed by Leo values. We need to bet on ourselves. We need to risk putting ourselves out there. If we cultivate a feeling of being welcome in the world and act on it, we overcome any Aquarian south node attachment to the idea “that nobody will understand us” or that “nobody will ever like us.” It’s time to walk like kings and queens even though in order to succeed, for a while we may have to “fake it until we make it.”

What about the immediate square of that solar arc node to Uranus? Let’s ask that question in the light of our core integrative principle: remember what you have already said! Recall that transiting Uranus will be hitting our Ascendant around the same time. Put them together and again we are reminded to be careful not to let attachment to past patterns trip us up.

New technology? New procedures? New attitudes? Those are qualities that put a smile on the face of the great, thundering god, Uranus. And let’s expect some wild cards too. But, realistically, how can anyone do that? Obviously “expecting the unexpected” is a logical conundrum. Still, to some extent, it is actionable advice. We can cultivate alertness. We can avoid letting habitual patterns blind us to early warning signals. We can have Plan B.

The progressed Sun is coming to a square of Jupiter. Jupiter is still Jupiter and so we  continue with integrating the theme of expansion and positive, confident thinking. There’s always a cautionary note implicit in squares though. Over-extension could be a danger. If, say, someone put forth a plan to grow our student body to a thousand people by summer 2026, I’d say let’s question whether that is something we actually want. And let’s reflect on that question before we even wrestle with the question of whether or not it is possible. Wanting what is truly good for us is always the key with Jupiter and it’s not as easy as it sounds.

That Jupiter is in the 7th house. Such dubious growth plans could very well come from someone or some other institution suggesting a partnership or alliance. Sagittarius might possibly indicate something foreign.

Once again, caution and discernment are indicated.

Around the same time that the Sun/Jupiter action peaks, we also see the progressed Sun forming a sextile with Pluto. With just a month separating these two peaks, it’s really best to see them as one single event. Pluto always calls for making an effort in the direction of honest self-knowledge – the famous “long, hard talk with ourselves.” With the sextile, such a talk doesn’t have to be gut-wrenching, but it does need to be truthful. Add the 9th house: what are our core values? Add Capricorn: let’s put maintaining our integrity at the top of our list. Mixed with Jupiter, we might face “a temptation.”

I am reminded of a line from an old Lowell George song: “The easier it looks, the harder it hooks. Ain’t no such thing as easy money.” It’s a good lyric – and good advice for anyone experiencing a Jupiter square with a big dollop of Pluto in it.

Once again, everything that I have written here is definitely the short version of any professional reading I would do. My central aim has really been to help us see the unifying pattern behind these configurations. Sometimes it takes sitting with the symbols for a while before that pattern jumps out. I cannot emphasize strongly enough how important it is to be patient enough to wait for that lightbulb to light over your head. There’s little worse than opening your mouth with a client and realizing that you have no idea what you’re talking about. This approach remedies that.

SO WHAT’S ACTUALLY HAPPENING FOR THE SCHOOL?

We already see evidence of these energies coming into practical manifestation. My recent bout with retinal detachment leading us to suddenly cancel a Q&A for the first time certainly bears the fingerprints of Uranian energy. Still, it’s helpful to remember that a lot of what we’ve explored here simply hasn’t happened yet. There will certainly be some more surprises – how could it be otherwise with Uranus in the picture? But whatever happens, there’s one point we can take to the bank: we will see the signatures of these seven configurations underlying everything. Astrology always works.

As I mentioned earlier, enrollment at the school has grown a bit over the past year – not to a spectacular degree, but solidly. We now have eighteen tutors – or nineteen, if we count our Dean, Catie Cadge. She wears a lot of hats, but tutoring is one of them. Penelope Love, our Communications Director, is also a  tutor now as well. The mixture of Saturnian hard work and Jupiterian opportunity has made itself felt, in other words – and remember: even though the progressed Sun isn’t exactly square to Jupiter until later this year, it’s been within orbs for quite a while.

(By the way, we’ve also been experiencing transiting Jupiter in our 1st house since the middle of last year. I could easily and justifiably have included that configuration in our list of seven biggies. Why didn’t I? Simple: I knew that with a client, I’d be covering that Jupiter base since the progressed Sun was squaring it. I keep the nuances of difference between these two Jupiter events alive in my head, but I don’t want to fog my client’s head with unnecessary jargon and complexity.)

Our beloved Communications Director, Penelope Love, tells me of a somewhat unexpected development – and there’s another early Uranian fingerprint. She says that there are many already-experienced astrologers arriving and signing up as students. Because they are advanced in their studies, they are mostly enrolled in the self-paced 101 course so they can get right to the guided nodal work and learn what’s unique about our approach. Their arrival has quickened the pace of the school’s growth. Penelope adds that now more people self-pace at all different rates. We don’t actually see their faces until they get to 102 or 103.

What about new technology? Well, as we all know, Artificial Intelligence is popping up everywhere lately, which brings us back to Penelope: “Our Call Archive from all of the Q&A sessions Steve has done since the school began is currently in a reconstruction format. We’re working on a project using AI to timestamp past calls and will be releasing a major improvement of the Call Archives in the future. I can’t say exactly when, but it’s going to be a major upgrade.”

Here’s another piece of evidence of our recent Saturnian maturation. I’ll start by saying that I personally think of us all as mental health professionals – really, that’s exactly what we are doing, even if we do it in a somewhat more Uranian way than the term conventionally implies. (Feel some Jupiter in that assertion? Let’s boldly and confidently assume our position next to society’s various “licensed” psychotherapists.)

Counseling other human beings is serious business and it  requires a specific skill-set. That’s why our 300-level Sacred Counsel course is so integral to our larger program. I’ve written and recorded a lot of material for it myself, but I bow gratefully to Dr. Joey Paynter for doing the lion’s share of the teaching. She’s a mental health professional by anyone’s standards and with her education she brings something to the table that I could never bring myself. Thank you, Joey!

Catie reminds me that in our last term, our Sacred Counsel course was a big success – but we all realized it needed to be expanded. Now it’s FCEA 300SC and it’s expanded to full two-hour sessions, still under Joey’s able guidance.

Once again, the wheels I describe here in this edition of Master’s Musing are only beginning to turn. We’ve all got front row seats well-positioned for seeing what actually happens next.

Enjoy the show and thanks for being part of it!

With three planets in Capricorn and a Virgo Saturn on the Midheaven, still being able to work at my age is a blessing beyond all measure – and something that I plan to continue doing as long as my mind and my body are in agreement. In this edition of Master’s Musings, I want to give you a rundown of all the public astrological show-and-tell that I’ll be doing this year outside of the strictly in-house teaching within the school’s curriculum. 

Three of the events I’ll be tooting here are “live, in person.” As always, it’s a joy to see any of you in the flesh rather than just on a Zoom screen, so I hope you can attend at least one of them. Two are here in the United States and one is in Europe. 

WEBINAR ON MARCH 23: HOW TO BE THE HERO IN YOUR OWN STORY

This will be part of a weekend event sponsored by Astrology University called “The New Air and Fire Era.” In it, I’ll be offering a webinar about Neptune’s entry into Aries. Here’s my description of the talk:

Warrior talk: imagine the sheer emptiness of having nothing in your life that was worth dying for. So many of our greatest heroes – Jesus, Joan d’Arc, Martin Luther King – have walked that talk. But then how many human beings have been bamboozled into giving away their lives for almost nothing – a political theory, a worthless king, or even a banking system. Neptune in Aries is a volatile, passionate energy – powerful, but not easily kept on a healthy track.

Here are the keys to getting it right: what was the sacred gift you were given while Neptune was in Pisces? What are you going to do about it now?

If you’re interested in attending, here’s the link for signing up or learning more about the whole event: https://www.astrologyuniversity.com/summit. 

My Neptune talk will also be available separately on my forrestastrology.com website shortly after the summit.

INTERVIEW ON APRIL 10

I was approached by Sam Liebowitz who emcees the popular podcast, The Conscious Consultant Hour, about doing a show. He and I had a lively Zoom chat about the possibility. I liked him and I decided to go for it. Here’s the link to his show where I suspect that sooner or later you’ll find the details about my time with him: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-the-conscious-consu-29372591/

INTERVIEW ON APRIL 18

Bestselling author, former champion hotelier, and emerging Elder, Chip Conley, has been a pal of mine since the days of tape cassettes. He now runs the Modern Elder Academy with campuses in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and Baja California, Mexico. On April 18, I’ll be enjoying a Zoom Fireside Chat with him as we talk about the changing culture and psychology around an event that lies ahead for just about every one of us: getting older.  Interested in experiencing my talk with Chip? Information about tuning into our chat will soon be available at https://www.meawisdom.com. 

LIVE 4-DAY CLASS IN GREECE, starting on Friday, April 25

I’m really excited about this event! This one is actually sponsored by the FCEA and run by our very own Lisa Jones, along with our hardworking Dean, Catie Cadge. We’re giving priority to our students, but others will be allowed to attend, provided that we have the space. It will be a very practical four day master class in Athens, followed by a six-day bus adventure.  Limited space is still available for this class and the unique sacred journey following. Please join us! Hit this link for the details: https://forrestastrology.center/Greece2025/

LIVE 5-DAY CLASS IN SANTA FE, NM, AT THE MODERN ELDER ACADEMY, June 16-21

A few lines ago I mentioned my Fireside Chat with Chip Conley. That will be a Zoom event. In June, I’ll physically be returning to his elegant Modern Elder Academy to teach. The campus is set on four square miles of magical land south of Santa Fe. Last year we had a wonderfully warm and friendly group of about twenty-five people. Some were experienced with astrology and some were not, but they all “got it” quickly. This year, I plan to talk about the current sign changes of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, and how each of us can best work with these fresh new energies at a personal level. For details, here’s the link: https://www.meawisdom.com/enroll/

WEBINAR ABOUT URANUS ENTERING GEMINI, Saturday, July 12.

I’ll be offering this talk with the help of the inimitable Tony Howard who has run my business for a couple of decades. When Uranus enters a new sign, the shocks, surprises, and breakthroughs start coming from new directions. Want to be prepared? Join us! Sign up (or watch the program later on) at forrestastrology.com.

LIVE 5-DAY SYNASTRY CLASS AT THE OMEGA INSTITUTE, Rhinebeck, NY, August 18-22.

This will be my third year in a row returning to Omega, a truly sacred space that always leaves me feeling a lot more hope for humanity. In the last two events, we had huge crowds of over a hundred both times, with a large minority of them FCEA students. It was a delight to finally meet so many of you in person. This year, our topic is synastry. We’ll cover the whole spectrum of techniques, and we’ll be using the charts of volunteer class members as examples. Here’s the link: https://www.eomega.org/workshops/astrology-intimacy 

ZOOM PRESENTATION FOR THE U.K. ASTROLOGICAL ASSOCIATION’S ANNUAL CONFERENCE, on the weekend of August 29-31.

England is too far away for me to travel just to offer a short talk. This year, they’ve offered me a chance to attend their conference via Zoom. My presentation is entitled, “Sharpening Our Vision” and here’s the description: “There is a chart behind your chart. Whether the information hidden there reflects prior lifetimes or something else, it makes itself felt in the present tense – sometimes in such a fashion that by not knowing it, our work founders. Want proof? Join Steven for this brief introduction to evolutionary astrology.”  I’ve not found any details on their website yet and that includes the exact time of my talk, but I’m sure everything will be up there before long. Here’s the link: https://www.astrologicalassociation.com/

Other than my FCEA classes and my private work, that’s everything I have booked for the rest of this year, at least as of this moment. I’m sure various other podcasts will appear. They tend to be set up fairly spontaneously so it’s hard to give much notice, but afterwards I almost always post links to Facebook and elsewhere. 

For later in 2025, China is the wild card. My trip there this past October was a huge success. I have lots of fun and good, warmhearted friends there, but I’m getting a bit old for twenty-four hour airline journeys. Bottom line: I’m not yet sure about China.

In any case, I hope that some of you feel drawn to attend some of the events I just listed, especially the live ones where we can make a human connection. Those are so precious, especially now with the world in such turmoil.

Every twelve years or so, Jupiter returns to the sign and degree it occupied when you were born. For obvious reasons, that represents a time of intensified Jupiter energy for anyone who experiences it – and we all do, pretty much like clockwork when we turn twelve years old, or twenty-four, or thirty-six, or forty-eight, and so on.

Naturally, seeing a peak in Jupiter energy, all the fortune-telling astrologers jump for joy. They’ll tell us that it’s time to buy a lottery ticket or ask the boss for a raise. And it is! When “dumb luck” knocks on your door, there is a good chance that Juptier is knocking too. We evolutionary astrologers recognize that fact – but we also recognize Jupiter’s darker potentials. The familiar cliche, “all that glitters is not gold,” pretty much summarizes them. To that cautionary note, I always like to add a happy rider: but gold glitters! Any Jupiter time is an excellent opportunity to add some of that glitter to your life.

As ever, with Jupiter the real questions are always how have you been underestimating yourself? How have you been settling for too little? It’s time for a victory – or at least some significant improvement in your life. And because of the laws of synchronicity, when Jupiter steps into the spotlight the opportunities for those improvements are all in place. It’s your job to recognize them – and meanwhile, to be wary of the kinds of fool’s gold opportunities that merely glitter, but will never feed your soul.

All that I’ve just written applies to any kind of Jupiter event. To those of you who have been studying evolutionary astrology for a while, it’s all familiar territory. In this essay, I want to explore one dimension of our understanding of Jupiter returns, specifically – one that applies to everyone, rarely fails, and generally does not appear in the astrological literature.

By the way, Jupiter’s orbit around the Sun takes 11.86 years, so calling it “twelve years” isn’t exactly spot-on. And of course, like the rest of the planets, Jupiter turns retrograde from time to time, and so putting a date on your personal returns is a bit complicated. Your first Jupiter return might not occur when you are exactly 11.86 years old. Because of retrograde motion, it might also involve three hits on the exact conjunction rather than just a single hit. As always, to nail the precise timing, you need to turn on the computer or open up the ephemeris.

For our purposes here, let’s keep it simple and say we all have Jupitier returns like clockwork every dozen years. That means that they are part of what we call the biopsychic script in the FCEA – that subset of transits and progressions that hit everybody at the same age. Because of that universality, they are woven into human culture, generally stripped of their obvious astrological signatures. In other words, you’ll see plenty of “common knowledge” in what we are about to explore.

What I want to reflect on here is how each subsequent Jupiter return is unique, with its own signature set of issues and opportunities. They always represent a chance to “estimate yourself” more positively, but in each case the breakthrough they offer is different. The delightful heart of the matter is the way each of these Jupiter returns is mirrored in that fabled archetype that underlies every cycle that impacts everything that comes into existence: the astrological houses.

The key here is to start with the first Jupiter return and relate it to the first house. I missed this whole connection for a long time by thinking that birth should be the first house, with the first Jupiter return then being relegated to the second house, and so on around the circle. That might make a kind of logical sense, but as you’ll soon see, it doesn’t work that way.

THE FIRST RETURN: AGE TWELVE

The first house is about autonomy and freedom. It’s about making our own choices – and dealing with the consequences. As we turn twelve, we are beginning to “grow up.” Civilized behavior is expected of us. We’re now  expected to know the difference between right and wrong. We are also starting to operate outside the protective context of family – and beyond its watchful eye. We start to feel touchy about our independence. Sexual energy begins to impact us, drawing our attention to the wider world. We start to become conscious – and probably self-conscious – about our appearance: another classic dimension of the first house and how we “dawn on people.” We start to feel motivated to find our own “style.” We no longer assume that we will automatically be loved or remembered. We have to earn it.

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Step out confidently into the wider world with all its dangers and possibilities.

THE SECOND RETURN: AGE TWENTY-FOUR

Traditionally, the second house refers to money – and there are obvious connections with financial matters at this crossroads. Individual stories vary, but around this age there is a general assumption that we will begin to be self-supporting – or that we should be. Failure in that regard tends to feed back negatively into our self-image. In classic second house fashion, it is time that we begin to “prove ourselves.” Who are we and what’s going to be our place in the eternal pecking order? The hungry drive – and the attendant personal insecurity – of just “starting out” dominate our lives. The dramas of rejection and acceptance around mate selection accentuate second house questions of self-worth and confidence. Marriage and the birth of the first child are common around now, further raising questions around our ability to “provide.”

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Trust and value yourself and have faith in the future that you are starting to create.

THE THIRD RETURN: AGE THIRTY-SIX

The third house is related to speech and around this time two developments are happening in that communications arena. First, we are simply finding our adult voice. Second, what we have to say is beginning to be taken more seriously by people of all ages. When we express an opinion, we’re not seen as “the kid” anymore. We have reached an age where we can speak with a kind of authority which people older than ourselves find plausible, natural, and legitimate. The third house is also about sheer, frantic busyness and the general buzz of life, which are typically reaching a crescendo around this time. How many balls can we juggle?

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Speak up confidently and expect that you will be taken seriously.

THE FOURTH RETURN: AGE FORTY-EIGHT

The fourth house has a strong connection with home and family and so our focus naturally shifts in that direction. Generally by this age, we’ve put down some kind of roots in both of those categories – home and family. While we may be very busy with our work in the world, there also arises a stronger sense of the importance of our primary domestic relationships. In eternal fourth house fashion, psychology calls us – whether it takes the simple form of more introspection and reflection, or some actual “crisis of meaning” in our lives. Aging parents often begin to loom large in our lives at this stage too, further emphasizing familial themes.

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Make your stand in the world, taking appreciative responsibility for your home, your family, and your community.

THE FIFTH RETURN: AGE SIXTY

As we come to our fifth Jupiter return, we are also experiencing our second Saturn return, so this is a particularly momentous existential turning point. The fifth house is associated with joy, creativity, and playfulness – and more importantly, with seizing the moment for the expression of those kinds of values. Most of us are still reasonably healthy and active at this age, but we are also vividly aware of getting older. There’s less satisfaction derived from imagining good things that will “come tomorrow.” Fifth house fashion, we want them right now. It’s not unusual for people to become grandparents around this time and thus we see the traditional fifth house focus on the joy that children can bring, except in this case it’s our children’s children.

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift:  Be generous with yourself. Do something big for yourself. Do it right now.

THE SIXTH RETURN: AGE SEVENTY-TWO

One traditional focus with the sixth house is health and illness. We may still be fine physically as we approach age seventy-two, but we’re generally becoming more aware of physical issues and limitations, even impending ones. Those health concerns are part of the sixth Jupiter return, but the heart of it lies in that often-forgotten dimension of the sixth house: mentoring. Much joy derives from passing on our gifts of knowledge and wisdom and having them received gratefully by younger people. We now often find ourselves “passing on the torch” in terms of our life’s work. Meeting needs that are essentially egocentric becomes less of a motivator for us. There’s humility in the sixth house – and a lot of generosity too.

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Take better care of your physical body starting right now – and keep your eyes open for younger people who could use some skillfully diplomatic, respectful guidance from you.

THE SEVENTH RETURN: AGE EIGHTY-FOUR

As we come to our seventh Jupiter return, we are also experiencing our Uranian return, so once again as with the fifth return it is reinforced and thus it is a particularly momentous time. The seventh house is all about relationships in general, not just marriage. Ask anyone at age eighty-four what they think is the most important value in life and there is a good chance that you will hear something about the quality of their human connections. Worldly success and glory are losing their grip on us. It’s the people we love that matter now – and with that Uranian signature in the mixture, the people we love are the ones who accept us as we are. The rest can take a long walk off a short pier.

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Say “I love you” to the people who deserve to hear it. Be yourself – and be grateful if anyone who doesn’t like you being who you actually are chooses to go away and leave you alone.

THE EIGHTH RETURN: AGE NINETY-SIX

For obvious reasons, only a few of us make it to the eighth Jupiter return. Traditionally, the eighth is the house of death and naturally mortality looms large and imminent at this point. We know that we don’t have much time left in this world. Younger people might find those words ominous, but never forget to add the nature of Jupiter itself. This is the planet of exuberant faith. A joyful sense of “going home” is trying to arise in the psyche now – and trying to break through the cultural walls of fear around end-of-life matters. Most of our peers – old friends, lovers, and partners – are gone now. We know that we will soon follow them. Often a sweet feeling that we will see them again begins to loom in us.

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Face your own passing from this world in a spirit of faith, surrender, and gratitude.

THE NINTH RETURN: AGE ONE HUNDRED EIGHT

It happens sometimes! But clearly a ninth Jupiter return is a rare event. What is the meaning of the ninth house? “Long journeys” is one – and anyone who makes it this far is contemplating the longest journey of them all. Another meaning of the ninth house is religion or philosophy. Either one of those subjects can become quite central in the mind of anyone who makes it this far. It’s time to figure out what your life has meant. What did you learn? What will you take with you?

Claiming Jupiter’s Gift: Reflect on what you have learned from your long years in this world. See if you can put it into ten words or less. That’s the essence of what you’ll bring through the gateway we call death – and out the other side.

So there it is, the cycle of Jupiter returns, each with its own unique signature.

In your astrological studies, you’ll occasionally encounter the term “mutual reception.” I don’t think I’ve ever written about it before, but I suspect it may have popped up from time to time in my videos or in one of our question-and-answer sessions. It’s not a pivotal tool in evolutionary astrology, but it’s something worth understanding.

The basic idea is the soul of simplicity: we have two planets and each one lies in the sign that the other one rules. You might, for example, have Mercury in Aries and Mars in Gemini. Or maybe your Jupiter is in Cancer while the Moon is in Sagittarius. Even though every planet is  different, in the case of mutual reception, each one is wired to have a special understanding of the other one. They are working as a team.

• A common interpretive thread in the traditions around mutual reception is that these planets can help each other escape from various perils. They watch out for each other. They have each other’s backs. They can “bail each other out.” They can offer each other “escape hatches.”

Those phrases give us the basic interpretive template. Mercury in Aries and Mars in Gemini? Maybe your shoot-from-the-hip Mercury gets you into trouble – you say something injudicious and suddenly everyone is giving you dirty looks. Mars-in-Gemini to the rescue – you quickly come up with a “clarification” that gets you off the hook.

Jupiter in Cancer and the Moon in Sagittarius? Maybe you’re worried about how you’re going to pay for that fixer-upper home you just bought in Calabria, Italy? (There’s your impulsive Moon in Sagittarius.)  Right on schedule, your grandmother dies and leaves you half a million dollars. (Jupiter in Cancer to the rescue.)

Once I read that you can think of two planets in mutual reception the same way you might think of a trine aspect between them. That’s a crude analogy, but it does contain a germ of truth –. clearly the simple notion of “luck” has some relevance here. But naturally it’s possible for two planets in mutual reception to be joined by a hard aspect, so it’s a bit more complicated than thinking of them as “trine.” The classic example there would be Mars in Libra opposing Venus in Aries. Here’s another – Jupiter in Virgo in square aspect to Mercury in Sagittarius. In those cases, we’re obviously dealing with some complexity – the integrative challenges of the hard aspect are mixed with themes of alliance, mutual aid, and shared goals and understandings.

JULIANE KOEPCKE

Here’s a real life story of a woman born with Saturn in Scorpio and Mars in Capricorn – a classic example of mutual reception. She’s also on the short list for the luckiest human being ever to have lived. On Christmas Eve 1971, the plane in which she was flying with her mother in South America was struck by lightning and disintegrated in midair. Still strapped to her seat, she fell 10,000 feet and crashed into the Amazon rainforest far below, miraculously still alive. She was the sole survivor of the crash, suffering a concussion, a broken collar bone, and various lacerations.

Following creeks and rivers downstream, she wandered through the jungle for nine days before finding a camp set up by lumberjacks who finally got her to help. Two weeks later, she was strong enough to be able to help authorities locate the crash site, where she had the horrific experience of finding her own mother’s body.

Obviously, there is considerable ambiguity in calling Juliane Koepcke “lucky.” Still, there are not many human beings who can fall from a height of nearly two miles and live to tell the tale. Google her if you’d like to know the rest of her story.

Meanwhile, here’s her AA-rated chart.

There’s a clear mutual reception between Mars and Saturn, in Capricorn and Scorpio respectively. The interpretive details are truly eerie and they verge us a lot closer to fortune-telling astrology than where we usually go in our work. Keep perspective: I am sure that there are thousands of people who have “malefic”  Mars in “the house of long journeys” and who have never fallen out of airplanes – even if Mars not only rules their charts, but is also conjunct Chiron, opposing a Uranus/Jupiter conjunction, and squared by Neptune!

The astrological symbolism behind Koepcke’s spectacular accident is clearly quite literal in this case: she had a horrible accident (Mars) on a “long journey” (9th house) and miraculously (mutual reception) survived. As always, astrology works – we’re just never sure exactly how it’s going to work. And naturally in exploring this single event, while the correlations are indeed extremely striking and obvious, we are far from seeing the “only” meaning these configurations could possibly have had – or actually have had in her life. Any astrologer who looks at her chart and tries to play the “I could have told you that” game is standing on very shaky ground.

Our focus here is on understanding mutual reception in generalizable ways. How does Koepcke’s Mars interact with her 7th house Saturn in Scorpio, along with Saturn’s solid conjunction with Mercury? To really get to the heart of the matter, that’s the technical question we need to answer. Here’s a critical piece of background information – something which opens the door to understanding the cooperative interaction between her Mars and her Saturn. When she was born, Juliane Koepcke’s parents were German zoologists working at the Museum of Natural History in Lima, Peru. When Juliane was fourteen, they left Lima to create a research facility deep in the Amazon rainforest, where she learned jungle survival skills. Without those skills, it is doubtful that she would have gotten through her rainforest trek alive.

When we think of survival, what astrological symbolism comes to mind? Scorpio resonates with the presence of death. Mars resonates with the fierce desire to fight to remain alive. Saturn resonates with sheer determination in the face of daunting difficulties.

And Mercury resonates with knowledge.

In those last few sentences, we see the stew of astrological energies that kept Juliane Koepcke alive. She needed the sheer grit of Mars and Saturn, but without her technical “Mercury” knowledge about survival skills specific to the perils of the Amazon basin, she wouldn’t have made it through in one piece.

Still, the obvious question remains: what kept her alive as she fell 10,000 feet to the jungle floor far below? No amount of knowledge prepares anyone to survive such a trauma. That part is not so easy to explain – and in that we perhaps glimpse the deeper mysteries implicit in mutual reception.

It seems that guardian angels find mutual receptions attractive.

Juliane Koepcke’s example is obviously a “Perfect Ten” on the Richter Scale of drama. That’s fitting with Mars, Saturn, and Scorpio in the mixture. Let’s now turn our attention to a softer example – one that’s closer to the more psychological realities that you’ll actually encounter in the course of pursuing an astrological practice in the everyday world. Here we’ll stick nearer to home. Let’s look at the chart of the FCEA’s beloved Communications Director . . .

PENELOPE LOVE

With Penelope, we are looking at a very powerful example of mutual reception, but one that isn’t quite so chocked full of hellfire and brimstone as Koepcke’s. Penelope’s chart-ruling Venus lies in Cancer and conjunct her Sun – she’s clearly Madame Venus. Meanwhile, her Moon lies in Taurus. That provides us with a classic example of mutual reception: the Moon is in a sign that Venus rules while Venus occupies the Moon’s own sign, Cancer.

Intimate themes clearly pervade Penelope’s mutual reception. Venus is of course “the goddess of love” and it could hardly be more prominent in her chart. Being in Cancer, Venus definitely takes on the coloration of “wife” and “life-partner” –  in terms of relationship, Cancer means that we’re talking about serious commitment for the long haul. That stable, monogamous intention is further underscored by the Moon being in the Fixed sign, Taurus. More to the point, the Moon is also in the 8th house, which links directly to the idea of sexual bonding as distinct from any  examples of the broader range of human sexual expression. With Penelope’s symbols, we’re talking about the mystery of couples who pass the test of time. God bless our flings and our  adventures on either side of the bedsheets, but those kinds of amorous situations are more in the 5th house category than the 8th. Penelope’s evolutionary intention in this lifetime very definitely includes the experience of serious commitment running in both directions – to cherish and to be cherished.

Here’s the hitch: her 8th house Taurus Moon is in a conjunction with her south node, which is in turn ruled by that same Venus. In Penelope’s case, this whole mutual reception structure is pervaded by unresolved intimate karma – and note that “earthquaking” Uranus opposes both the south node and the Moon. That configuration is strongly suggestive of past life bereavement or abandonment – something that left her with a bit of PTSD in the love department as she began this incarnation.

Would that mutual reception of Venus and the Moon come to the rescue in this lifetime?

Rather than telling you Penelope’s story here, let me just refer you to her book, Wake Up In Love. In fact, you can enter it in Amazon’s search engine right now and read a few pages for free. There, you’ll see the heart of the matter in action – and I bet you’ll quickly want to buy the book too! Support your local Communications Director!

I want to begin by thanking every brave veteran of our 306 master classes. I am looking forward to our next one which begins on Monday, January 13th. Without what I’ve learned from them, I would not be able to write this little essay. This one is about “something I knew, but didn’t know I knew” – at least until I’d spent many hours helping our most advanced students expand their astrological chops.

As many of you are aware, our format in the master classes involves everyone looking at the same new chart each week. The charts are all invented – they’re not famous people. The students receive them in advance along with fictional biographies for each character. One week we’ll look at a birthchart, another week we’ll look at current transits and progressions for that same invented person. Late in the program, there’s always a synastry as we imagine two of our fictional characters falling in love. For efficiency’s sake, with the t’s & p’s and the synastry,  we stick to birthcharts we’ve already studied, so we can skip that step.

The underlying idea in the master class is that each student needs to be ready for anything with that weekly chart – just like we need to be fully prepared to talk about anything and everything if a client is coming to sit with us.

We meet on Zoom for seven sessions. Students are required to attend at least four of the seven class sessions in order to pass. The FCEA is wonderfully international, but that does create some scheduling challenges. By alternating between an early-morning and a late-afternoon US West coast starting time, we make class times as accessible as possible for different time zones. Each time, either Catie or I propose a series of questions about the chart-of-the-week. The questions could be technical or they could be something we say in human terms. What about that Jupiter square Saturn? Or how would you counsel this person in terms of career direction?

I then reach into a hat, draw the name of a class member, and that (heavily perspiring) person takes it from there. Nobody knows when the fickle finger of fate is going to point in their direction. In a typical meeting, five or six people are called to stand in the spotlight. Most of the students take ten minutes or so to do their presentations, then I make some comments and usually ask some follow-up questions.

As a system, this format has worked really well. In designing it, what we were up against was our usual enemy: the clock. Ideally, each student would present a full, integrated analysis of a chart – something that would take at least an hour and probably longer. With a dozen or so people in the class, there just wasn’t enough time for that. The math didn’t lie: seven sessions times ninety minutes is only ten hours or so. On top of it, part of the teaching is me commenting on each student’s work – that’s where the “master class” dimension comes into play. And that takes time too.

That’s where our tricky method enters the picture: each student has to be ready to present a full chart analysis at any given moment – they just don’t know in advance which part of the chart they’ll be asked to discuss or even if “today is their day.”

We keep it friendly and supportive, of course – we’re the FCEA! But you can probably see why I referred to the brave veterans of our 306 classes at the beginning of this essay, not to mention their perspiration. No matter how nice we are to each other, it’s still a high pressure situation.

All in all, I’ve been delighted with the performances of our students. By the time they complete 306, they are well on their way to being graduates of our school and every one of them is worthy of that honor. They’ve mastered the technicalities. They are capable of representing the best of evolutionary astrology. They can carry the flame forward, and for that I can only thank them.

For those triumphant students, the only thing that lies ahead is practice, practice, practice. They’ve internalized the nuts and bolts of our system. Now they need to find their own  voices.

In listening to the presentations of these students, I realized that there was one consistent piece of advice that I could give most of them – something that would help their future clients to follow what they were talking about more easily. It was the “something I knew, but didn’t know I knew” that I referred to at the beginning of this little essay. More to the point, it was also something that was often missing in our students’ presentations.

That missing piece is my subject here. I am calling it planetary on-ramps.

GETTING ON THE HIGHWAY

We’ve all either been behind the wheel or riding shotgun when the time comes to join the hurtling traffic on a crowded freeway. We accelerate up the on-ramp hoping for a hole in the screaming mass of moving metal. Often it’s a nail-biter. When it comes to actual driving skills, merging with speeding traffic is a high-stakes test, something far more challenging than just cruising down the highway. That’s why we breathe a sigh of relief once we actually settle into the flow with the rest of the cars and trucks.

Cutting to the astrological counseling room . . .

There you are in the middle of a reading. You’ve done a good job of presenting an integrated view of the client’s Sun, Moon, and Sagittarian Ascendant. You’re about to scream up the on-ramp to their chart-ruling Jupiter. What are the first words out of your mouth? They better be good. You’re about to set the tone for a fresh, major chapter of your presentation.

You understand Jupiter. You’ve burned the midnight oil in your FCEA studies. Intellectually and conceptually you are prepared. Your client is intelligent and open-minded –  but pig-ignorant when it comes to what Jupiter signifies. How do you get that part of the conversation off on the right track? How do you make sure that the client’s mind is attuned to Jupiter’s wavelength? 

Where is the on-ramp? 

• Maybe you say, from the evolutionary perspective, the big questions with Jupiter are how have you been underestimating yourself? How have you sold yourself short? Where have you been settling for too little?

See what happens when you open with those familiar words? Instantly, the client’s mind is set on the right questions. Their mental radio is tuned to Jupiter’s channel. You’ve set the correct tone. With those leading sentences, you’ve established a context for everything that will follow.

For each planet, we can create similar “on-ramps.” In each case, there are many possibilities. In a moment, I’ll make a suggestion for each one of them – but, remember, these are just suggestions. You can certainly come up with others and I encourage you to do that.

Nothing that follows will sound new or surprising. It’s all stuff you’ve heard before, much of it back in the 100 courses when you were learning the astrological basics. The point is that these verbal “on-ramps,” even though they reflect astrological theory, are really about the art of astrological counseling – which is always about building and maintaining a linguistic bridge of rapport, connection, and mutual comprehension with our astrologically-naive clients. Think of these on-ramps as a way of holding your clients’ hands as you lead them into the deep dark forest of astrological symbolism.

Let me reiterate that memorizing and using the “on ramps” that follow is a good starting point, but there are many others waiting to be created – or already lurking in the various FCEA teaching materials that you’ve studied.

SAMPLE ON-RAMPS

With the Sun, you might open by saying, “Taking care of the Sun is the secret of sanity. Make a priority of the basic values we’re about to explore and you’ll feel centered, grounded, and confident that you are on the right track in life.”

With the Moon, you might open by saying, “Taking care of the Moon is the secret of happiness, well-being, and maintaining a generally good mood. Meet the needs that we are about to discuss and you’ll beat back the blues every time.”

With the Ascendant, you might open by saying, “Following the path of your Ascendant helps you align your outer life with the actual intentions of your soul. It helps you “get your act together,” in other words. It helps you become the person whom you were always actually meant to be. 

With Mercury, you might open by saying, “Mercury is the messenger of the gods. It’s about helping you find your true voice. More critically, it’s about a set of perceptions – things you need to focus on learning – in order to get there. And then there’s the Grand Prize: when you speak with your true voice, people will really listen to you.”

With Venus, you might open by saying, “For you, certain kinds of people are like triggers or catalysts for your evolution. Here’s how to recognize those people – and how to avoid the ones who’ll just waste your time, or worse.”

With Mars, you might open by saying, “Mars is the god of war – and there is one virtue that warriors esteem above all others. That’s courage – and where Mars lies, you’re going to need it! In this area of life, you’re getting a crash course in assertiveness. You can be the hunter or you can be the prey. The choice is yours.”

(We looked at Jupiter earlier in this essay.)

With Saturn, you might open by saying, “Saturn often gets a bad rap, but it’s not really  bad – it’s just hard. And there’s a big difference. We are going to look at a place where you were born with a blockage, but that doesn’t mean you have to die with it too. The Great Work of your life lies in making a big breakthrough here. You can succeed, but it will require relentless effort and self-discipline. And it’s worth it.

With Uranus, you might open by saying, “Who would you be if you had been born with a different mother or father? More generally, think of all of the external forces that have shaped you – and maybe misshaped you. Uranus is the guardian of your true individuality – and a place where you will have to fight your way to the kind of true self-knowledge that’s the only path to real freedom. It’s also a place where you’ve probably gotten a lot of well-meaning bad advice, and that’s a problem we’ll need to straighten out.”

With Neptune, you might open by saying, “Neptune is the god of the sea. What it really means is the sea of consciousness itself – the sea into which we dive when we meditate or dream. When it comes to spirituality, everyone’s path is different. Here’s yours – here’s your doorway into the mysteries.”

With Pluto, you might open by saying, “Pluto is the lord of the underworld” – also known as, “the god of hell.” It’s a place where you’ve been hurt, maybe in a past life, maybe in the present one, maybe in both. To heal the wound, there’s a hurt place that you need to see clearly in yourself. It’s also a place where, if you get it right, you can claim your true power.”

WHY ARE THESE ON-RAMPS SO MISSION-CRITICAL?

If we open our discussion of each planet with these kinds of simple “on-ramp” statements, our clients’ attention is instantly aimed in exactly the right direction. They know precisely what we are talking about and they mentally file everything that you are about to say under the correct headings. 

You’ve successfully set the right tone and they are now ready to absorb the details of their evolutionary strategy.

Here’s a point that would be hard to deny – 100% of your past lives occurred in the past. I mean, we might go down the rabbit hole of wondering “what time itself is” . . . but in the end that line of inquiry just leaves people tongue-tied and staring into space. Maybe ultimately time is one of those “useful fictions” which allow us to communicate with each other – what the Buddhists would call a “relative truth” rather than one of the ultimate truths which always lie beyond the realm of language.

For our practical purposes in this little essay, let’s just stick to the helpful notion that the 20th century came before the 21st.

Here’s a second point that would be tough to argue against – history has often been unimaginably weird. For example:

Among the Lakota people, one’s status was increased by giving away one’s possessions rather than by accumulating them. Try explaining that to a Wall Street stockbroker.

There is some evidence that the Trobriand Islanders of New Guinea didn’t make a connection between sex and pregnancy. Imagine high school there.

In Japan until the end of the 19th century, blackened teeth were seen as a sign of female beauty. In China for centuries, the same could be said for tiny little feet – hence the (dreadful) custom of foot-binding that would render a woman effectively immobile.

The list goes on. History is a real zoo, full of surprises and head-scratchers that none of us could easily imagine as we sit here a quarter of the way into the 21st century.

Of course by the 23rd century, people will be looking back at us and marveling at how for a few decades people preferred staring at cell phone screens to actual human contact. We modern humans are no exception in the weirdness department. What kinds of south node signatures will those 23rd century astrologers be seeing when they’re faced with the unresolved karma of 21st century people who drifted into their phones instead of into each other’s eyes?

All of this leads directly to a practical dilemma that we all face as evolutionary astrologers. In creating the past-life nodal story, we are by definition framing a tale in an earlier historical context. If we don’t actually know some history, we might blunder – as, for example, did a US President talking about the good guys “taking over the airports” during the American revolutionary war. (There were of course no airports).

“There you were, a thousand years ago, way back in the Stone Age, dining on deep-fried Stegosaurus steaks straight out of the freezer.” One obvious advantage of knowing some history is that we won’t make mistakes like those. A client has no reason to assume that you, as the astrologer, should be an academic historian, but you will definitely come across more plausibly if you don’t show evidence of abject ignorance. The true disaster is that obvious historical errors might undercut the client’s capacity to take the rest of what you are saying seriously.

This goes beyond not looking dumb and losing credibility. There’s a purely positive side to knowing some history too. Its second benefit is the color, plausibility, and depth that such information adds to the story you’re telling.

Here are a couple of illustrations of what I mean:

• Maybe you see a south node in Sagittarius in the 2nd house squared by Jupiter – so you tell a story about your client once having been a Lakota who gave away everything. 

• Maybe you see a 12th house Capricorn south node conjunct Venus and squared by a 3rd house Saturn – and that leads to a story about being a Chinese woman a millennium ago hobbled by those bound feet.

As always, coming up with the nodal story – a process that is so central to therapeutic dimensions of the astrological work we do – is an act of creativity. In a sense, we are making up these stories. Ethically it’s important to make sure that the client understands that – we don’t claim to know the outward facts of anyone’s prior lifetimes. We just know their emotional effects – what they felt like, and what has been carried forward.

And we depend on a good story to get that feeling across to the client.

The bottom line is that, as astrologers, we start by burning the midnight oil in order to understand the basic methodology of nodal analysis. Then we color creatively within those lines – always making sure that every important element of the tale we weave is justified by the symbolism. 

We’re creative – but not too creative, in other words.

As we strive to pull an effective, convincing nodal tale together, a knowledge of history is like the difference between having a ton of money in the bank versus worrying about whether you can pay your electric bill this month. That’s because with this kind of knowledge you are rich in historically authentic images. They put words in your mouth – good words that amplify the impact of what you are presenting. Your stories have more punch and a few accurate, exotic details of the past enhance their verisimilitude for anyone sitting with you.

Plus you never blunder into talking about clients microwaving their Pterodactyl wings on their way to the Lincoln-Douglas debates.

HOW TO GET GOOD AT THIS

To be a skilled evolutionary astrologer is to be a skilled storyteller. At least when it comes to the lunar nodes, those stories are all set in the past. To succeed there, you certainly don’t need a degree in history. It’s not nearly so hard. In fact, I think it’s fair to say that for most of us, the process of absorbing this kind of knowledge is actually fun. Much of it comes down to reading books and watching movies. I’d be surprised if you’re not at least half way there already, just from your education – not to mention books you’ve already read and the films, documentaries, and television shows that you’ve already seen and enjoyed.

For many of us, reading an interesting tale about some juicy period in world history is no hardship. Thick, erudite academic volumes with tons of footnotes can admittedly be slow-going, but there’s no need to turn the process into such heavy lifting unless you feel like it. Such  “PhD-in-History” writing often gives you a lot more detail than what you actually need for our purposes. Popular treatments are fine.

And don’t forget about novels! If they’re any good, they contain characters with whom you can identify. That identification means that historical novels actually often make a long-ago period come alive for you more vividly than any pure “history book.” And they’re definitely more fun to read – many of them are real page-turners.

The same is true for films. Off the top of my head, I find myself thinking of that big Mel Gibson film from 1995, Braveheart. I bet many of you have seen it – and unwittingly gotten an education in late-13th century Scottish history. Admittedly, it’s a seriously flawed history – but it does give you a feeling for what it must have felt like for those poor Scottish farmers to be thrown off their land by English aristocrats.

What about Gladiator? Watch that movie and two hours later, you have enough rough  scholarship about the Roman empire in the 2nd century C.E. to tell a dozen colorful, historically-plausible nodal stories.

Titanic? Those Gilded Age days are long gone too and that well-heeled aristocracy went down with the ship – but what a wonderful set of images that film gives us for a Sagittarian south node in the 12th house squared by a 9th house Pluto!

The list of course goes on. I think of Mad Men, a television series that was popular during its 2007-2015 run. I suspect that many of you saw it. The setting is the 1960s – and (may God help me) half the people now enrolled in the FCEA might have actually had a past life during that tumultuous period! I was alive and reasonably sentient during that decade myself, but I admit that in watching Mad Men, the customs and especially the gender assumptions underlying the story made it felt like I too was remembering a past life.

Have kids? There’s a woman who was a dear friend of mine in college (just that – we were housemates) back toward the end of those Mad Men days. Her name is Mary Pope Osborne. We lost touch with each other long ago, but she’s become quite famous in the world of children’s literature, having sold 134 million books, most of them in her “Magic Treehouse” series. The “magic treehouse” she invented transports kids on time-travel adventures, some to historical periods, some to mythological ones.

If you’ve got kids in your life, reading Mary’s stories to them – or reading them yourself – will give you exactly the kind of knowledge I am talking about here. It’s fun and totally painless.

And Mary, if you ever happen to read these words, get in touch! I’m easy to find. I’ve often wondered if you and I were the only ones ever to actually make any money from our degrees in Religion – UNC-Chapel Hill, class of ‘71! 

In the name of having some creative fun, we both verged dangerously close to “scholarship” about that faraway time. I can set a nodal story there in my sleep.

Read The Rhymer and the Ravens and you can too.

A READING LIST?

Let me start by saying that trying to compile a reading list or a “must-watch” list here would be misguided. For starters, probably three-quarters of the films ever produced were made long ago enough that every single one of them is like a time-capsule. And I’m not even talking about “period pieces,” such as Gladiator or Braveheart. Every decade for the past dozen or so has yielded a crop of films that were “contemporary” – at the time.

Bogart and Bergman in Casablanca? Marlon Brando and Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire? Each one is like a living window on a decade that presently doesn’t boast many surviving representatives – but how many people living today might have lived back then too?

Books can be veins of gold in similar ways. How many historical novels have been published? How many straight history books have been written? I doubt that anyone would have enough time even to count them all, let alone read them.

Here I just want to list a few volumes that I’ve found particularly helpful. They could help you too – but maybe you prefer to help yourself.

In the list that follows, you’ll note one pattern that’s worth underscoring, and that’s an attempt at honoring cultural diversity. I suspect that most of us have occupied bodies with a variety of different “paint jobs” in our previous incarnations. For that reason, it’s good practice to make sure that your nodal stories don’t all sound like the scripts of costume dramas you might watch on the BBC.

SOME OF MY PERSONAL FAVORITES

Alex Haley’s Roots: The Saga of an American Family, 1976. A tale of the Black experience in the New World. 

Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century, 1978. The Black Plague anyone? This brilliant, scholarly volume brings you right back to the late Middle Ages in Europe. And Tuchman can write – it’s not tedious at all. 

Gary Jennings’ Aztec, 1980. This is a very sexy “pulp fiction” tour of pre-Columbian Mexican cultures. It gave me a far more nuanced understanding of the diversity and complexity of those societies than I ever got from my western-biased education.

Jared Diamond’s Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies, 1997. In the U.K., this brilliant, even life-changing, Pulitzer Prize winning book was subtitled “A Short History of Everybody For the Last 13,000 Years.” That about says it all. Diamond ranges over various world cultures. For nodal stories set in the distant past, this volume delivers the goods on every page.

Edward Rutherford’s Sarum, 1987. This is the story of humans in Britain right from the beginning. It’s an episodic novel in which very similar characters keep appearing in subsequent historical periods. Was he thinking of reincarnation? I don’t know – but it reads that way.

Thomas Berger’s Little Big Man, 1964. (This was also a fine 1970 film.) Either the book or the movie will give you a feeling for the Native American experience in the 19th century. My partner Michelle Kondos does historical Western painting. She has a friend named Michael Badhand who consults in Hollywood on Native authenticity issues. He’s generously helped her make sure that the Native people who appear in her historical paintings are depicted accurately. Badhand says that Little Big Man, even though it’s a comedy in many ways, gets more details right than most of them do.

Isabel Wilkerson, The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration, 2011. A Black friend gave me this book or otherwise I would have missed it. Wilkerson tells the story of the trials, tribulations, and hopes of Black people escaping the American South and heading north for jobs and freedom after the Civil War and onward through World War Two. It’s a gold mine. 

Susan Barker, The Incarnations, 2014. Chinese history is long, complex, and dauntingly alien to many of us in the Western world. Susan Barker’s book is the best introduction to that long story that I’ve ever found. Reading it, you get a very human perspective on various periods in Chinese history. Again, like Sarum, is it about reincarnation? I think so. 

I’d recommend Anne Perry’s fiction in general. She writes murder mysteries, all set in Britain, but in two different periods – the early and the late 19th century. It’s all England, but they are two very different times. Reading her work is like stepping out of a time machine and into the shoes of various characters from different levels of society during those periods.  

James A. Michener was hugely popular a couple of generations ago. Even though his star seems to be fading now, he can still transport you into another time and culture with his panoramic vision of societies developing over centuries. His opus is huge. I’d aim your attention particularly at Chesapeake and Centennial for some American history, Iberia for Spanish history, and The Source for the story of the Jewish people from their earliest roots. 

So that’s my list. It’s far from definitive. Once again, these are just books that have been personally helpful and meaningful to me. They’ve all certainly enriched my storytelling, and probably made me a better human being – and a better astrologer – in the process. 

To me, the glorious thing about books is that there are so many of them. The sad thing is that there is so little time.