Scorpio - Masquerade!

The Doctor: “Can I trust you, River Song?”

River Song: “If you like! But where’s the fun in that?”

The Sun has moved into Scorpio.

I like to understand the nature of this time of year through the Celtic celebration of Samhain, because the Celtic tradition first and foremost acknowledges that the entire realm of the supernatural is real-but-not-real, here-but-not-here, there-but-not-there. In this regard, Scorpio is the intriguing sign through which we navigate our relationship between that which is visible and that which is invisible, that which is apparent and that which is apparition.

Danu by Thalia Took

In Celtic lore, the Tuatha Dé Danann are a mythic race of supernatural beings who live inside the earth. At the time of Samhain they emerge from the Underworld to collect their dues for having provided a good harvest earlier in the year.

Six months ago the Sun was in Taurus, the sign opposite Scorpio. In the northern hemisphere, the world flourished with life abundant in rich, exuberant color and a wild diversity of creativity and design in the form of flowers of all kinds, plants, trees and lush sensual gardens of earthly delights. Now, with the Sun in Scorpio, as these riches turn back toward the Underworld and the Tuatha Dé Danann emerge on Samhain, it’s a time to give something back for everything you enjoyed in the six months prior.

This might be the true meaning of “letting go” when it comes to Scorpio. Rather than a last-minute faux-“release” of something gross and nasty you discovered in a recent therapy session—something you didn’t really want anyway and can’t wait to get rid of—Scorpio is the release of something more valuable, perhaps something creative, something truer that comes from the inner depths (preferably from the deepest supernatural depths which touch the timeless), perhaps something that can be a resource for others.

The autumn season in western culture sees an onslaught of “new releases” in stores every year in advance of the Christmas money-making season. Perhaps the meaning of Samhain can shed a bit of new light on why so many artists release new music and new books at this time of year, and why movie studios often wait until autumn to give us the best of what they’ve got. Maybe it’s not just the commercialization and commoditization of the holiday.

See, the creative Sun in Scorpio goes into stealth mode and dons some kind of mask when presenting the deeper self on the stage of the world (not unlike the Sun conjunct Pluto, which I recently wrote about). Pablo Picasso, born with the Sun in Scorpio, knew all about this. He said, “Good artists copy—great artists steal.” Life is a masquerade! And masks come in many forms. Masks have been part of culture for thousands of years. There is a lot of talk these days of authenticity and the removing of masks in order to reveal one’s true self. Yet, the tradition of putting on masks isn’t to hide the truth at all—rather, the tradition of masks is to present the complex truth in its deepest form. Masks cover up what is on the literal surface, allowing us to reveal something deeper about human nature without getting it confused with the actual person presenting it. With a mask on, one can present something more truthful, more powerful, more lasting, and even more troubling. Scorpio gets down to those depths.

The facts of life never present the whole truth of life. Facts are merely facts, and facts have expiration dates. Facts die, as people do. To present one’s more authentic self and the deeper aspects of human nature beyond the facts requires a mask, to show the archetypal truth, the truth that lasts through time and appeals to far more people than do the facts of your life. The truth wears many masks and comes in many forms and guises. That’s what keeps Scorpio true to its own nature. And it’s what keeps life exciting! And mysterious! Of course, the mask used to reveal the deeper self can also be used, as the Phantom sings in Phantom of the Opera, to “hide your face so the world will never find you.” Once a mask is donned, how do you know what is real and what is not real? What is true and what is a lie? Who can you trust? We can get quite lost in the dark, twisted every way in the labyrinthine lairs of life. Herein lies the real complexity of Scorpio. Yet, truth is reliable, like the thin thread tying Theseus to Ariadne as he entered the labyrinth to slay the Minotaur. Follow the thread—trust your instincts—and the truth will out.

The Moon, Venus, Goddesses, Belonging, Fitness and Food - Part 2

Truth be told - full disclosure - as I wrote Part 2 here, it turned into a piece about Venus and Beauty, before I ever got back to the Moon. The Moon will be getting her due diligence in an upcoming blog, though, you can be sure. She’ll be the star of a post delving more into Artemis, the Goddess of the Moon. Meanwhile, here is Venus:

If you want the sense that your life has order and an inherent design to it, the sense that things fit together, beauty (Venus) is essential. Yet, in the United States beauty remains fundamentally misunderstood because it’s often considered merely superficial and shallow, and tends to be exploited or promoted for profit. Calling a women’s razor “Venus” is a typical example—being a goddess is only one close shave away! Let’s not confuse the superficiality of a marketing campaign, though, with the fun and fuss and pleasure of attending to appearances. Why do they matter?

Venus is the mediator between us and the world around us, via the five senses. Seeing, smelling, touching, hearing and tasting the world would not be the same without Venus. Perhaps we’d have no way of being in the world at all! And, while Venus’ beauty is the vital force on the sensual surfaces of life—the exterior decorating—genuine beauty reassures us that there is also more going on behind the surface. Beauty reminds us of kosmos, the Greek word meaning “order, good order, orderly arrangement, decoration” as well as “the universe” and “the world.” Beauty reminds us that behind the cosmetics is the cosmos, a design, a glimpse of eternity, something divine. This is likely part of why Venus is considered to be exalted in Pisces, the sign with a particularly strong link to the cosmic backdrop of our lives. Beauty and myth walk hand in hand. Without beauty, we lose the sense of cosmic order; a tightly-tailored suit becomes just a suit, rather than also being the tailoring of a life that truly suits you. This is vital for astrology, because the orderly appearance of the planets in a chart (or in the sky) is backed by the cosmic, mythic, archetypal nature of your life.

How about an example, perhaps even an auspicious one? In astrology, Venus is considered to be in “detriment” in the mysterious sign of Scorpio. Uh-oh! That doesn’t sound good. What does this mean, and why on earth is Venus in detriment in Scorpio?

VENUS IN DETRIMENT IN SCORPIO

Feminist Naomi Wolf was born with Sun and Venus exactly conjunct in Scorpio, to the minute. Wolf made the case in her 1991 best-selling book “The Beauty Myth” that impossible standards of physical beauty have become more and more detrimental to the lives and health of women. A brilliant use of Venus in Scorpio, if there ever was one. A perfect fit, you might say. I will come back to this shortly.

In astrology, Venus is often confined to the realm of relationships and values, and then internalized. In this framework, Venus in Scorpio can be rather difficult. Given Scorpio’s intense desires, erotic passions, obsessive focus, and tendency to go to extremes—not to mention its innate connection with death and haunted pasts—Venus in Scorpio might be one of the reasons “It’s complicated” is an option for Facebook relationship status. Sexy, yes! But obsession? Death? Venus is supposed to take your breath away, but not forever! No question about it: difficult—especially if confined to relationships, and especially if the model for relationships is balance, equality, love, peace and harmony and all that. If we back up and incorporate what I’ve been saying about Venus thus far (Venus from the perspective of beauty rather than relationship), and add some imagination, we have far more wiggle room to play around.

Venus is likely considered in detriment in Scorpio because rather than showing off on the sensual side of life (as she does in Taurus, for example), Venus in Scorpio is resigned to life on the other side, the darker side, six feet under, invisible, underneath and under cover, lurking in the shadows. Instead of being able to show off her beautiful composition, Venus in Scorpio wanders into the world of de-composition and decay—order replaced by disorder—the supernatural realm more of vampires, zombies, ghosts, shades and the walking dead than the natural world she is most suited for. Perhaps the abundance in our culture of movies, television shows and books featuring these alternatively beautiful and disgusting figures shows us exactly what’s going on. From “True Blood," “The Vampire Diaries,” and "Twilight," to "Supernatural," "Ghost Hunters," and "American Horror Story," to "In the Flesh," "World War Z," and “The Walking Dead”—our crisis of beauty imagined as the zombie apocalypse! If we consider a beautiful flower arrangement, though, and go back to that flower arrangement a week later, we can see that death is also just part of the arrangement. It has its place.

We can look to Mary Alice, the deceased narrator of Desperate Housewives, for further guidance. From the other side, she narrates:

“An odd thing happens when we die. Our senses vanish. Touch, taste, smell and sound become a distant memory. But our sight! Ah, our sight expands. And we can suddenly see the world we left behind so clearly. Of course, most of what’s visible to the dead could also be seen by the living, if they only take the time to look.”

Venus in Scorpio takes the time to look. Moreover, Venus enters the realm of memory, or Mnemosyne as I wrote about recently. Venus in Scorpio makes the invisible realm “visible.” Dark fantasy author Clive Barker, a Libra born with Venus in Scorpio, works this way. His stunning “Weaveworld” (described as “an epic adventure of the imagination”) is chock full of beautifully poetic, extremely moving, erotic, wildly sensual and out-of-this-world descriptions of a mysterious and magical-yet-often-horrific land inhabiting an ornate rug. Venus in Scorpio senses the weave of the world. Describing one man’s desire for a close relationship, Barker writes, “He wanted the intimacy of a secret shared.” That’s Venus in Scorpio right there. Barker also wrote the dark epic fantasies “Imajica” and “The Great and Secret Show” (note that the show is “secret”), proving that the darker realms of life can be just as breath-taking and magical as anything.

Agatha Christie was also born with Venus in Scorpio, and she didn’t shy away from mystery, murder and death. We love her for it! We wouldn’t want her any other way! We’ve made Agatha Christie the best-selling author of all time! Not too shabby for a planet in detriment. Again, a perfect fit. What would the world be without Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot? Agatha Christie’s detective eye for death leads us time and time again into treacherous territory, and we still pay her for it. In the 37 years since she died, she has made more money than most people on the planet will make in their entire lives, I'm guessing.

More examples: Better Midler gained her initial fame by singing in the gay bathhouses of New York City. So perfect for her! And perhaps bringing Venus into the gay bathhouses as the modern gay community was beginning to emerge is part of why one of the archetypes associated with the gay community today is Keepers of Beauty.

Anne Hathaway was able to portray the desperate, almost-too-heart-wrenching Fantine in Les Misérables, as she sings “I Dreamed a Dream” and looks back on her lost life. Anne won an Academy Award for her performance. Susan Sarandon also won an Academy Award, for “Dead Man Walking,” in which her character befriended a man on death row. Bette, Anne and Susan—all perfect fits. See, if you imagine into your life as a movie, in what role would you cast yourself? What roles would fit you? Fitness is more than just physical.

Back to Naomi Wolf. Since the publishing of “The Beauty Myth,” standards of beauty have arguably relaxed quite a bit, yet I wonder if the rampant epidemics of obesity and diabetes, and the unprecedentedly long lines in pharmacies today indicate further crises. When we ignore beauty our senses become numb (or, as Mary Alice said, our senses vanish). We become indifferent and complacent, while at the same time jittery and restless, because the lack of beauty is that tangible. Ugliness is uncomfortable. Without the inherent sense of order that accompanies beauty, bodies can break down. Could beauty be an essential component to healing?

If you’re wondering how the United States has come to be so mired in false, flat beauty and turns enormous profit from it, consider this rather astonishing astrological correlation: The first-ever budget of the United States was passed by the Continental Congress back in 1778, when Venus in Scorpio was conjunct Saturn in Scorpio. Almost two centuries later, in 1954, the first televised Miss America pageant was broadcast while Venus in Scorpio was conjunct Saturn in Scorpio. Although she likely didn’t have an astrological perspective to work with (I don’t know), Naomi Wolf instinctively put these pieces together, recognized the detrimental nature of what was going on, and published her case. Venus in Scorpio is currently approaching another conjunction with Saturn in Scorpio (exact on September 18, 2013). Perhaps this time around we can release ourselves from the stereotype once and for all and start once again with the archetype (the original pattern), the actual and essential mythic beauty, Venus.

Of course, once we grasp the nature of the archetype, each person then has a "different" and original Venus (while all thrive within the same original archetype), depending on the sign Venus is in, the house she occupies, the houses she "rules," and the planets in aspect to her. I could write an entire blog about Venus in Capricorn, for example, and include such diversity as Frank Sinatra (who insisted on doing it his way and we love him for it), Dolly Parton (who built Dollywood), and perhaps the 2 drag queens and 1 transsexual who climb to the top of a mountain in "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" in full drag, proclaiming, "Just what this country needs: a cock in a frock on a rock" before heading back down. If you’ve never let the über-endearing “The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” color your world, please watch it. As the movie switches back and forth from the playful and made up surfaces of life, to the more in-depth issues that make up our human lives, genuine beauty emerges throughout. The story becomes archetypal, truly beautiful.

In the meantime, let’s keep in mind one last succulent slice of Venus in Scorpio wisdom from Desperate Housewives.  As the spirit of Wisteria Lane’s resident Femme Fatale, the late Edie Britt, drifts away into the other world, she speaks her parting words to us

“I’ll tell you something:  it’s not hard to die when you know you have lived.  And I did—oh, how I lived!”

Beauty wants to live.

The Moon, Venus, Goddesses, Belonging, Fitness and Food - Part 1

Much to my surprise, this blog will be Part 1 of 2, because it turns out there are more things in heaven and earth than I had previously dreamt of in my philosophy. So, off we go… “Then as part of the game she completely forgot Where she’d hidden herself and she spent The rest of her time trying to find the parts.” —Howard Jones, Hide and Seek

Over the years there has been (and still is) a lot of talk about “the rise of the feminine” and “the Divine Feminine” and “the return of the Goddess”—important and big subjects that I can’t always make heads or tails of, especially when they get confused with actual women, the actual equality of actual women, and actual violence against actual women. Talking about “the Feminine” is not the same as talking about actual women. There’s a big difference! And, when it comes to the rise or return of the Divine Feminine, I’m not necessarily seeing what everyone else seems to be seeing. One particular kind of femininity seems to be rising at the dangerous expense and fall of another extremely important kind of femininity. To explore this terrain, I want to consult the two main go-to gals of the basic astrological pantheon: the Moon and Venus. And, to be sure, I am writing mythically, about mythic figures, not literal ones.

A PLACE IN THIS WORLD

When people talk about “the Feminine” or “the Goddess” or “the Great Goddess” in particular, it’s almost always the Moon they’re really talking about, whether they realize this or not. A great deal of femininity is contained in the Moon, for sure. She is the Great Goddess, the Queen of the Night, the Great Mother, the Nurturer, the Caregiver. The list goes on. In astrology, the Moon is exalted in the earth sign of Taurus in part because of the innate connection between Mother Moon and Mother Earth.

More specifically, the Moon is about home, emotional security, safety, comfort, and a quality of nurturing and caring for the “tribe,” the whole family. The Moon is about what feeds us and nourishes us. It’s tricky sometimes, because people can get used to discomfort—they become comfortable being uncomfortable—and so the Moon’s sense of security is not necessarily about soft pillows and relaxation and bubble baths (that’s a preview of Venus). It’s more about what is familiar, and what is familiar is not always literally comfortable. It’s just familiar. The Moon simply provides us a place in this world, a sense of belonging, a shelter, a place to call “home.”

The Moon has an inclusiveness that can sound like love and compassion, because the desire and appeal of including everyone and making everyone feel at home can be quite lovely and profound. The more, the merrier, at least from the Moon’s perspective. The Moon’s inclusiveness is what allows community to form, and the Moon is the archetype behind the notion that “it takes a village.” The village, together, inclusive, taking good care, belonging, no child left behind.

An extremely popular young adult book right now is “Divergent,” by Veronica Roth. Currently being made into a movie, its trailer features Kate Winslet proclaiming, “The future belongs to those who know where they belong.” What happens, though, when you are exactly where you belong, but you don’t quite fit in? Uh-oh. As “the rise of the Feminine” continues, especially within the context of humanity reorienting to a “global village” perspective, the Moon is getting an abundance of air time. The trick, though, is that the Moon may be inclusive, but is by no means unconditional. What if, like the book’s female lead, one is “divergent” and does not quite fit the Moon’s mold? What is the difference between belonging and fitting in, and why does it matter? Enter: Venus.

EVERYTHING IN ITS RIGHT PLACE

Both the Moon and Venus are extremely feminine, but Venus is altogether different than the Moon, as you will see. It’s time to leave the child behind. If the Moon is what nourishes us, Venus is about taste. Venus is what and how we love. Again, not in the sense of compassion-love, but more in the sense of, “I love that book!” or “I love that color!” or “I love that shirt!” Venus is the goddess of love and beauty, and her make-up container also includes harmony, balance, the scales, proportion, fun, froth, charm, appeal, desire, pleasure, art, music, socializing, cosmetics, accessorizing, aesthetics (particularly when looking nothing short of fabulous), and the entire, essential, superficial keeping-up-appearances arena of life. Venus is the goddess of the five senses, which connect each of us with the sensual world around us and allow us to see, hear, taste, touch and smell it all. Venus brings us to our senses. Whether you are bending down to smell a beautiful rose, or quickly turning away from the disgusting and revolting milk that you just discovered went bad last week, your aesthetic responses are all thanks to Venus. Without Venus, we’d probably just eat the fuzzy, moldy, green cottage cheese. And we’d all wear scratchy burlap trousers while doing it. And we'd all belong to the Clean Paper-plate Club.

Again, Venus is the goddess of beauty. Beauty! Wow! What would we do without beauty? To see just how vital beauty is to our lives, check out movies like “Children of Men” and “WALL-E” and “District 9” and the recent “Elysium” to see wrecked worlds that lack beauty. Venus’ beauty, though, is not about beauty really being found on the inside and all that. No! Absolutely not. To say that it’s what's on the inside that really counts, what really matters, is to say the entire world around us, out there in all its aesthetic splendor, doesn’t really matter, and that the majesty of epic redwood trees is not beautiful, because real beauty is what’s on the inside of those trees. Doesn’t that sound ridiculous? Nature loves to show off her beauty, and we can take a lesson or two from her. Oh, hell, we need her whole graduate studies program!

See, Venus has more to do with “cosmos” than with beauty being in the eye of the beholder. “Cosmos” is about beauty and order. Not order in the sense of control and rigid structure, but order in the sense of pattern and arrangement. There’s an inherent order to things, a design. Like, when you look up into the sky at night, and the arrangement of the stars into constellations inspires us to imagine pictures. Nice! Or, when creating a flower arrangement. You don’t just throw all the flowers on a plate and let them lay there. You have a suitable vase, and you work those flowers into a beautiful arrangement. You fuss and you play, and if they aren’t beautifully arranged, you aren’t done. It’s an art. It’s a sense, an aesthetic and cosmetic sense. Everything in its right place. Things fit together in a harmonious and pleasing fashion. It’s a composition, like arranging musical notes on a staff, creating harmony with a melody. Music recordings credit an Arranger, because how a piece is arranged is essential. Someone knows how to put all the parts together in a pleasing fashion. It’s a talent and a skill, and “The Lord of the Rings” movies would be entirely different without it. (Imagine!)

Moreover, when for example I listen to the luminous Sarah Brightman and the glorious Italian stallion José Cura sing their breath-taking duet “There for Me”—and bathe and luxuriate in its beauty—it sets the world right. Everything in its right place. There’s order. There’s cosmos. I feel excited, alive, and deeply, deeply reassured at the same time. I can relax. And despite the “Repeat 1” option in iTunes, that sense doesn’t last forever. It’s not supposed to. Sometimes it feels too short-lived. And yet, it’s not “beauty fades” in the sense that it withers on the vine, gets decrepit and ugly, and finally dies a miserable, flailing death. No, it’s more of a rest, more about beauty sleep. The cosmos chills out and rests. Sleeping beauty. Beauty is high maintenance, after all! Who ever said being beautiful was easy? Beauty needs sleep and rest, and we find beauty again in that down-time.

Venus also brings style. While the Moon has a style all her own, it’s not really about style, if you see what I mean. Do you look better in autumn colors, or spring colors? Maybe you can rock the winter colors like nobody else can. It’s about style. Your style. Too much Moon in the fashion industry, and we’re looking at a whole bunch of really baggy clothes that don’t fit. Too much gap in them, or it all becomes one big banana republic. The Moon’s inclusiveness prefers more of a one-size-fits-all approach. It’s easier to take care of so many people that way. This became clear to me not too long ago when I had coffee with a friend, and I was wearing a new shirt. She said, “Shawn, it’s so nice to see you wearing a shirt that actually fits!” There’s a depth to that statement that went through me when she said it, a depth that applies to everything, not just my shirt. A shirt that fits is really nice, and a life that fits and is pleasing is altogether incredible.

Beauty is rarely, if ever, discussed in “the rise of the Feminine,” except when it's considered a "myth" in the inaccurate and dismissive sense of that word. That's when Venus’ beauty gets linked more with a Barbie doll, considered merely superficial, and then thrown in prison (like in the show “Orange is the New Black”), lost to Time being served, where she must pay her dues in order to possibly be taken seriously and released. When Barbra Streisand (a Taurus) named her recent album "Release Me," perhaps it was more than just the unreleased songs from her vault she was talking about. She has the right idea. (And even if she only meant the songs, the wisdom of the unconscious and the imagination has its ways of revealing the essential greater truths.) See, all of this is still dazzlingly, wonderfully feminine. Yes, this is the Feminine that can sound so much like luxury that it can be hard to embrace, especially in a society severely lacking anything resembling economic equality, gender equality, and social equality in general. But remember I'm not talking literally. Beauty is a myth, in the finest and truest sense of the word (something that never was, but always is), and it begins in the imagination. Work from there. And, if the shoe fits...

The epic move we have made in the last three decades from “local” to “global” has uprooted folks and resulted in an anxious longing to belong and a desire to not be left behind or excluded. Why be different? Why diverge? Why risk it? Note: Venus has her Joy in the 5th House of the astrological wheel, the House of risk-taking! This is a big clue. In today’s world Venus’ "fitted" exclusivity can seem downright unfair and unbalanced. Recently, a sushi bar in Virginia banned anyone under 18 (because children and teenagers in the restaurant just didn't fit their style), and was deluged with protests. Yet, with our society (and the world) in a state of such imbalance, where genuine equality is sacrificed for mere tolerance (which rarely wears the ring of truth), how can we discard the very essence of “balance” itself?

I’ll pick up there next time, and mingle the Moon and Venus with each other, to see their differences even clearer—and to bring fitness and food into the mix. Comments on this post are entirely welcome.