Star quality

In an age of science and reason, the study of astrology gets a bit of a bad rap, and not without some justification. Despite comprehensive astrological traditions dating back over 4,000 years¹, there is a cultural tendency in modern Western society to dismiss it all as unsubstantiated, anti-science nonsense.

But it could be argued that if the language of astrological study has been around as long as it has, often with very similar interpretations between the geographically distant ancient cultures that devised it, then there might be something to it.

Any philosophical system that encourages humanity to look at itself in relation to the bigger picture (and let’s face it, our star-filled universe is about as big a picture as we’re currently able to digest scientifically) is, to my mind, offering humanity a great service. What mysteries might unfold in the barely charted heavens that reflect our own mysterious, corporeal existence? I mean, we’re all stardust in one form or another, are we not?

As above, so below.

(Attributed to Hermes Tresmigistus, The Emerald Tablet.)

And what have science and ‘reason’ delivered us in just the last 100 years? Sadly, the rather unreasonable headline of atomic weapons and regular episodes of genocide, so any belief system that fosters greater personal and collective understanding might provide a welcome alternative to humanity’s current, tragically destructive rationale. It should be noted that science has observed that, generally, life does not seek to destroy itself. Unfortunately, that appears to be the sole preserve of human thought and behaviour. Just sayin’.

Scientists, rationalists and astrologists all concur irrefutably that there is a full moon this week. In astrological terms, it reaches its fullest while passing through the zodiac sign of Sagittarius. Astrologists take a good look at the positions of other stars and planets in this neck of the galaxy when the moon is at its peak, then interpret the various influences attributed to those alignments. It’s not an exact science by any means, but nonetheless displays intriguing methodology in projecting possible celestial influence on our mental, emotional, and physical makeup. For those with an interest in exploring their responses to circumstance in thought, word, and deed, it can be seen as a helpful tool.

This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune––often the surfeit of our own behavior––we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars, as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on, an admirable evasion of whore-master man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star!

(Shakespeare, King Lear.)

According to the astrological charts, this month there is some notable positioning of Mars, the dwarf planet Eris and a small ringed solar system body named Chiron³. The names given to these celestial bodies relate to classical mythology authored in pre-Christian societies, usually the names of gods from the pagan pantheon with particular skills and patterns of behaviour. Mars was the god of war, while as an astrological influence is said to be the planet of drive, motivation and action - but also anger and impulse. In mythology, Eris is the goddess of discord and strife. The astrological thinking goes that when aligned as they will be this week, Mars and Eris in tandem make for a potentially explosive, emotionally raw period leading up to and just after the full moon. Get the picture? Even if it doesn’t happen that way, it’s good to be forewarned just in case, right?

There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look with an aspect more favourable.

(Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale.)

And then there’s Chiron to be thrown into the astral mix. A planet with an eccentric orbit around the sun, somewhere between Saturn and Uranus, was only discovered in 1977 – culturally more punk rock than pre-Christian – yet its name transports us to early Greek mythology, which, like all good stories, allows us to reflect on our own role in the grand design.

Chiron’s story, that of the wounded healer, is an endearing one, yet it starts with the Titan Chronos’s lusty infatuation with the sea nymph Philyra. His interest wasn’t reciprocated,, and she turned herself into a horse to escape him. Chronos, undeterred, simply transformed himself into a stallion and pursued her anyway.

The result of their inevitable congress was Chiron who, due to all the shapeshifting that went into his conception, was born as an immortal hybrid: half man, half horse – known in classical mythology as a centaur.

When Philyra birthed her son, she was overwhelmed with grief and shame. She prayed to be changed into something else so she wouldn’t have to live with what had happened, or with what she had brought into the world. The Gods acquiesced, immediately transforming her into a linden tree (φιλύρα, philyra, appropriately being the ancient Greek word for linden).

Chiron was therefore a misfit abandoned orphan, born of divine force and maternal rejection; enough baggage alone to spawn a proper psychopath, you’d think, but unlike most centaars, who were a wild unruly bunch fond of carousing and overt violence, he eventually proved to be intelligent, wise and gentle. Fortunately, he was found as an infant and raised by Apollo, god of music, healing and prophecy, under whose guidance Chiron mastered medicine, ethics, hunting, astronomy, and music, specialising in the lyre.

Apollo encouraged his twin sister Artemis, goddess of the wild and the hunt, to contribute to Chiron’s education, teaching him the arts of archery and self-sufficiency. Through the loving attentions of his foster dad, Chiron transcended his bestial centaur nature to become a wise healer, gentle and civilized, regularly sought out in his cave on Mount Pelion to teach would be heroes and demigods how to live with wisdom and honour.

The list of his students reads like a pantheon itself, among them: Achilles, whom Chiron raised and tutored from boyhood; Asclepius, who would later become the god of healing; Jason, leader of the Argonauts; Actaeon, who met an unfortunate end after seeing Artemis bathe; and Heracles, the all conquering hero whose future actions eventually had tragic consequences for Chiron himself.

The story variously goes that Heracles was either fighting off a bunch of murderous Centaurs or just messing about with some arrows tipped with deadly poison made from the blood of the Hydra⁴, when he accidentally dropped an arrow on Chiron’s hoof. It was merely a nick but the damage was done, the poison worked with agonising speed. Being immortal, Chiron was condemned to an eternity of excruciating pain because of his student’s clumsiness. Even with all his healing knowledge, Chiron couldn’t cure himself, trapped instead in endless suffering. Ironic? He probably should have been a bit pissed.

But no. Chiron being Chiron found a noble cause with which to barter his immortality for the selfless resolution of an honourable death. He offered to surrender his immortality in exchange for the liberty of another - that of Prometheus, the Titan who had been chained to a rock in the Caucasus Mountains for eternity by Zeus. His crime? He benevolently gave fire (and by extension knowledge and progress) to humanity, an act Zeus punished with inimitable cruelty. Every day, an eagle descended to devour Prometheus’s liver. Every night it regenerated, starting the perpetual, excruciating cycle anew.

Zeus, seeing nobility in Chiron’s gesture, accepted his offer. By relinquishing his immortality, Chiron’s agony ended and he was finally able to die. Prometheus in turn was released from the agony of his own punishment.

To honour his sacrifice, Zeus placed Chiron in the sky, as the constellation….(wait for it)....Sagittarius. Depicted as the centaur archer whose aim was true, Chiron’s legacy was never about power or warfare. His story is an allegory of wisdom, self control, compassion, self sacrifice and ultimate healing that even the Gods admired.

It’s just a story of course, but perhaps one that carries a tad more pertinence under a Sagittarius Full Moon. Just as we have all evolved from our common heritage of stardust, we have all experienced our own narratives concerning the common landscape of human suffering. Are we all not wounded in one way or another? Many of us might go as far as to describe ourselves as damaged goods.

Having just celebrated my 60th birthday, I can personally report I feel battered but to date, nonetheless, remain unbroken. I am even using Unbroken as the title of an exhibition of my recent paintings that opens later in the month. The show celebrates the role my artwork has played in my own healing, something I fortunately became aware of in my early twenties. My well being seems inextricably linked to my creative process. In short, if I’m not working creatively, in one medium or another, I suffer. This too is just a story which, for all I know, may through repetition simply have become a self-fulfilling prophecy. What’s important for me is that the storyline rings true, informing my behaviour in thought, word and action in a way that helps negotiate “The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune”, toward positive outcomes.

Our stories might not be as epically challenging as Chiron’s, but there’s probably a similar wounded healer in all of us. We intuitively know what modes of behaviour are good for us but regularly fail to follow that inner guidance, causing further suffering. We often hold the keys to our own unique medicine cabinet only to forget to open the lock, let alone swallow the appropriate pill.

Therein lies the ironic twist in our own ongoing narratives. We are our own best healers, and yet at certain crucial points in our lives, we no longer have the conscious capacity to help ourselves. In these moments of truth we can do little else but surrender to an evolutionary will greater than our own, hoping in some way to align with the bigger picture for the benefit of All.

Under this Sagittarius Full Moon, as planet Chiron exerts whatever astral influence it may or may not have from its eccentric orbit around our sun across the infinite depths of space, let’s remember the story of its centaur namesake, selflessly giving his all in the cause of liberty for others.