What I Learned in Astrology Class: Part One
When I first started studying astrology formally, in a classroom, naturally I began to understand my natal chart more deeply, not just because of my own broadening perspective but from the perspective of my fellow astrologers. One of my teachers said that in astrology, one of the best ways to deal with the vast amount of information and possible interpretations available to us is to work with what is burnished on our soul. What resonates most deeply with our experience, our personal mythology? What stories and interpretations give us butterflies of recognition in our tummies? When I do readings for others, I often tell stories from mythology which resonate with the symbolism in chart I'm looking at. Stories are a brilliant way of hard wiring the symbols of our chart into our memory, helping us to respond to our chart with an emotional experience rather than simply an intellectual reaction.
But sometimes we don't even need a story, just a bit of basic astrological symbolism seen in a new way. In my first year or two of formal astrology study I had a number of moments - there are three that stand out, seared onto my memory - when everything clicked into place, and I realised thanks to the symbolism of astrology why I am who I am.
The first was at the beginning of my second year, moving on from the basics of the natal chart into forecasting and other techniques. We were looking at Chiron, an asteroid I didn't know much about at the time, although I've since found it to be an especially powerful point in the natal chart, especially for those who walk a spiritual path, seeking self and soul growth. Its known for showing us our wounds, our potential for healing, and I find that through this, it can illuminate our unique work in this incarnation, for our own soul development and also our ability to heal others. We had spent a class discussing Chiron in the natal chart of several of my fellow students. I stuck my hand up, volunteering my own Chiron for discussion, as I really hadn't got a handle on what it meant for me. But time ran out. The teacher promised that we would start with my chart the following week. And I was irritated, or triggered, or something, because for over a year now I'd been sitting in astrology class listening to the symbolism of other people's charts. There was always someone who spoke up louder than me, someone whose chart everyone was fascinated by. I wanted to be that person - one of the things astrology was showing me was my natal Moon, in Leo and conjunct the Descendant, the point of the chart we often experience through others rather than internally. I longed to be seen, for my authentic self to be recognised, but gave that longing away, as we tend to with whatever is on the Descendant. I believed that others were more creative, more deserving of their ability to shine, more Leo. I was always the quiet one in the corner, as I had been my whole life. So I arrived at astrology class the following week assuming that we would move on (but feeling preemptively annoyed about it!), that my Chiron would be forgotten. And so it seemed to happen. Other people began asking for clarity about their own charts, offering their own interpretations. I sank into myself, frustrated at my apparent inability to simply remind my teacher that we had planned to looked at my chart.
Until she wound up whatever she had been saying, paused, and said "But we were going to look at Lisa's chart". Well that woke me up. She got out my chart, points out Chiron in Aries in the third house, closely sextile (and its very close, to the second almost) my natal Sun. She commented that it was interesting how others were getting in ahead of me, "because there's a powerful image here of not being heard".
Not. Being. Heard. A door opened in my mind. All my life, I had been not being heard. I was desperate to be heard, seen, understood, on some deep level, but that Chiron wound kept me form speaking out, from having the confidence to be myself, to speak my truth. There it was, clearly written in the language of astrology - my ability to speak my truth, to be heard (third house is self expression and communication), was wounded, a wound which closely affected my ability to assert myself (Aries) and to let myself shine, to be my authentic self (close sextile to natal Sun, which in turn rules that Moon in Leo projected away on the Descendant). In turn it affected by ability to feel deeply, to express my feelings (symbolised by the Moon), and to be confident and creative (Leo).
Like many I've done readings for since, I found seeing this experience laid out in my natal chart to be incredibly validating. It gave me a language to describe how I had always felt, and rich layers of symbolism to help me begin to heal the wound. I'm still working with that symbolism, over ten years later, spiralling through increasing awareness until I am able to write about it in this public space.
But sometimes we don't even need a story, just a bit of basic astrological symbolism seen in a new way. In my first year or two of formal astrology study I had a number of moments - there are three that stand out, seared onto my memory - when everything clicked into place, and I realised thanks to the symbolism of astrology why I am who I am.
The first was at the beginning of my second year, moving on from the basics of the natal chart into forecasting and other techniques. We were looking at Chiron, an asteroid I didn't know much about at the time, although I've since found it to be an especially powerful point in the natal chart, especially for those who walk a spiritual path, seeking self and soul growth. Its known for showing us our wounds, our potential for healing, and I find that through this, it can illuminate our unique work in this incarnation, for our own soul development and also our ability to heal others. We had spent a class discussing Chiron in the natal chart of several of my fellow students. I stuck my hand up, volunteering my own Chiron for discussion, as I really hadn't got a handle on what it meant for me. But time ran out. The teacher promised that we would start with my chart the following week. And I was irritated, or triggered, or something, because for over a year now I'd been sitting in astrology class listening to the symbolism of other people's charts. There was always someone who spoke up louder than me, someone whose chart everyone was fascinated by. I wanted to be that person - one of the things astrology was showing me was my natal Moon, in Leo and conjunct the Descendant, the point of the chart we often experience through others rather than internally. I longed to be seen, for my authentic self to be recognised, but gave that longing away, as we tend to with whatever is on the Descendant. I believed that others were more creative, more deserving of their ability to shine, more Leo. I was always the quiet one in the corner, as I had been my whole life. So I arrived at astrology class the following week assuming that we would move on (but feeling preemptively annoyed about it!), that my Chiron would be forgotten. And so it seemed to happen. Other people began asking for clarity about their own charts, offering their own interpretations. I sank into myself, frustrated at my apparent inability to simply remind my teacher that we had planned to looked at my chart.
Not. Being. Heard. A door opened in my mind. All my life, I had been not being heard. I was desperate to be heard, seen, understood, on some deep level, but that Chiron wound kept me form speaking out, from having the confidence to be myself, to speak my truth. There it was, clearly written in the language of astrology - my ability to speak my truth, to be heard (third house is self expression and communication), was wounded, a wound which closely affected my ability to assert myself (Aries) and to let myself shine, to be my authentic self (close sextile to natal Sun, which in turn rules that Moon in Leo projected away on the Descendant). In turn it affected by ability to feel deeply, to express my feelings (symbolised by the Moon), and to be confident and creative (Leo).
Like many I've done readings for since, I found seeing this experience laid out in my natal chart to be incredibly validating. It gave me a language to describe how I had always felt, and rich layers of symbolism to help me begin to heal the wound. I'm still working with that symbolism, over ten years later, spiralling through increasing awareness until I am able to write about it in this public space.