The other night I went outside to look at the stars. I do this fairly frequently. I like to stare up through the leaves on the trees this time of year, and catch sight of the Behenian Stars — some of the brightest in the northern hemisphere’s sky — or the Moon in one of her Mansions. (My book on the Mansions is on Amazon).
I’ve been puttering around with astrology for a few years now. It’s not been an intensive study for me, but I have spent a fair bit of time reading astrological books, looking at charts, and trying to understand some of the themes. Recently I’ve devoted some time to Chris Brennan’s masterful summary, Hellenistic Astrology, and I’m delving into Christopher Warnock’s courses from time to time.
Last night, I performed one of my first major sessions of predictive astrology for someone else. Afterward, I went out and looked at the stars for a little while. I said, “I think I’m getting a handle on this astrology thing.”
The stars didn’t answer. Not in words. They usually don’t.
“It’s this astrological poesis. It’s finding ways to use mathematics and geometry and the variables of the planets and their aspects to tell stories that matter to the people who hear them — to tell the stories of people as though the stars themselves were repeating their stories back to the Earth.”
No answer, still.
“It’s helping people connect the story of the sky to their own lives on Earth.”
Silence from the skies.
“It’s helping people understand themselves using a range of metaphors drawn from the heavens at the moment that they ask…”
And suddenly, an answer. “Boy, you still have a lot to learn.”