Академический Документы
Профессиональный Документы
Культура Документы
The Sixth house is often treated like the runt of the litter in astrology. It is vaguely said to rule
"health, occupation, co-workers, small animals, clothing, servants" and that’s about it. You've
got problems with your chauffeur, cook, butler, Fido or Fluffy? Look to the Sixth. For anything
else, move on to another more interesting house like those having to do with love and marriage
and sex and money.
Perhaps astrologers give this Cadent house short shrift because vocational analysis is a complex
and demanding topic and 'health' even more fraught with potential pitfalls – not least the
potential to psychologically damage clients by 'predicting' illnesses or accidents that may never
eventuate, or even risk lawsuits for 'practicing medicine' without a license.
You can avoid both traps once you fully understand – and help clients understand – all that is
truly revealed by one of the most important (in many ways the most important) houses in the
horoscope.
The Sixth house essentially shows psychological self-integration. As the last of the Personal
houses (below the Ascendant-Descendant horizon), it amalgamates, analyzes, collates, defines,
refines, makes sense of and decides what to do with the first five houses before it.
The Sixth summarizes, characterizes and establishes the psychological foundation based on the
first 12½ to 15 years of life, on which all future development in adulthood is built. Only by
evolving through the Sixth house do we emerge into the Seventh to engage and join the
increasingly Collective houses (above the horizon) by integrating with The Other(s).
If we shrug off the Sixth house in life as we often do in astrology, we're forever at the mercy of a
superficial and immature understanding of psychological self-integration, like kids pretending to
be grownups.
The Sixth house depicts our developmental responses to the five previous house archetypes of
growth – from birth at the First house; through early sensory development (pleasure and pain
through food, touch and sounds) and finding our voice (cooing or crying) in the Second;
discovering our limbs, mobility and minds, distinguishing waking from sleeping realities
(dreams and nightmares), and communicating with our environment in the Third; confirming our
sense of emotional security, continuity and heritage through our family identity in the Fourth;
learning and socializing from kindergarten through junior high school in the Fifth; then putting it
all together into a coherent whole (or not) in the Sixth prior to entering the larger collective
houses of adulthood at the Seventh with our first serious love, our initiation into sex (Eighth),
gaining higher education and training toward contributing to society (Ninth), and beginning to
establish our career path at the Tenth, around age 21-22.
For the rest of our lives we mature atop the foundation of our Sixth house psychological self-
integration or lack of it. By progression or solar arc, the Sixth house cusp, ruler and any planets
in it will develop through other archetypal layerings. Yet our Sixth house foundation remains our
Rosetta Stone for personal self-integration.
More than any other archetypes in the horoscope, including Sun, Moon, Ascendant or any single
planet or point, the Sixth house reveals the psychology underlying people’s modus operandi –
how they deal with life. Everything else finds its integration or disintegration here – including
relationships, sex, vocation, education, mental and physical health, careers, friendships, goals,
social pursuits, even illnesses and finally death.
But wait: aren’t all those shown elsewhere in the horoscope? Certainly. Their characteristics
may be examined in greater detail through other focal houses, but their underlying integration
into a cohesive whole (or not) remains rooted in the Sixth by age 15.
So-called 'senseless' actions – 'senseless' killings, 'senseless' divorces, 'senseless' suicides,
'senseless' affairs, 'senseless' impulses – make perfect sense when the Sixth house is considered
and understood.
We’d best be fully conscious of what the Sixth house shows lest we relegate our psychologies to
unconscious forces – what we are pleased to project and call 'Fate.'
If you’re beginning to realize that 'Fate' is often nothing more than the intersection of genetic
heredity with unconscious, unacknowledged predispositions and the belief-systems that develop
from them, you’re far ahead of the game.
Before concentrating on the few crucial umbrella archetypes that constitute the core importance
of the Sixth house, review its more mundane meanings.
Service – the first concept listed – is actually one of the most important concepts of the Sixth
house, as we’ll see, though in a far greater psychological and metaphysical understanding than
waitresses, barbers, hairdressers, bathroom attendants and mechanics; valuable as those jobs
and careers are.
What is truly indicated at the Sixth house are our beliefs about what Service is and what it
means – through contributions to society in exchange for rewards that validate our worth and
existence. Beliefs about Service may take high roads or low: Nobel prizes, Mafioso infamy,
leading nations or digging ditches.
Health and sickness or 'dis-ease' in general are indicated initially at the Sixth house (and by
reflex squares or oppositions in the other Cadent houses). Any prescribed medical regimen is
also shown in the Sixth. The physician herself, in consultation, is shown in the Seventh, as are
all professional consultants. The physician as a mental or physical health authority over our
daily routine and regimen is shown at the Tenth.
The Sixth house also rules everything connected with food: farming, planting and harvesting,
processing and packaging, distribution and marketing, grocery stores and restaurants. It reveals
much about an individual's appropriate and inappropriate dietary and eating habits, exercise and
how the body processes food.
Dispensing with still more common meanings of the Sixth:
Note how these traditional meanings of the Sixth house gradually become more collective.
Now we finally reach the most profound meanings of the Sixth house and encounter its deepest
functions.
Since the Sixth house forms an inconjunct (150º) angle to the Ascendant, it requires various
degrees of adjustments throughout life during ever-changing circumstances and interpersonal
transactions, nutrition and aging: refinement, in other words – physical and psychological.
Knowing the body's organic functioning, to some extent, helps greater understanding of the
houses’ synchronicity with physical organs and processes. Almost all of us have at least a
rudimentary understanding of major bodily organs and their functions. That knowledge can help
clarify corresponding functions in the psyche. The human body is a physical projection and
metaphor for all astrological archetypes at work in one’s life on physiological, emotional and
psychological levels – the holistic (or whole-istic) mind-body connection in pop parlance.
The function of the Sixth house has much in common with Virgo, the sixth sign, and the organs of
digestion. It also says a great deal about our beliefs about our overall psychological and mental
health, our self-image (contrasted with the persona we show the world at our Ascendant) as well
as our physical health.
The Ninth house has to do with the formal study of psychology and medicine. But the Sixth is
where psychology and physical health are experienced pragmatically and personally.
Exploring the houses and signs working through the physical body is instructive, since we all
have bodies and organs. Studying them through astrology helps us be conscious of our organic
processes; the nutrients or lack of them that we feed our bodies; and how our physical selves are
metaphorically linked with all other internal and external symbolism in astrology.
The Sixth house corresponds to the intestines and digestive system: the organs and processes by
which our bodies access and assess, discriminate, absorb, assimilate, filter and use the nutrients
we take in, passing them on for further filtration and balancing (Seventh house; kidneys) and
final elimination of waste byproducts (Eighth house; Scorpio).
"Garbage in, garbage out" goes the Digital Age maxim. It applies mentally, psychologically,
emotionally and physically.
If digestive processes are bollixed in the Sixth house, every subsequent organic and functional
process – from Seventh through Twelfth houses in the Natural Wheel; from Libra through Pisces
– and on around through the Ascendant – is compromised.
Breakdown of nutrients into chemical compounds and glandular secretions – a minutely detailed
Virgonian and Sixth house process of fine discrimination and separation – takes place here. If
something is blocked or goes wrong, through hard aspects, even barely, resulting biochemical
and electromagnetic imbalances can affect the brain and other organs and seep into every other
bodily process – hopefully to be further refined, balanced or compensated for in Libra and the
Seventh house, or eliminated in Scorpio and the Eighth.
Psychologically, the Sixth house indicates the identical digestive processes in the psyche. The
Natural Sixth house Earth sign, Virgo, is ruled by Mercury, which also rules the Air (Thinking)
sign and Natural Third house sign of Gemini, archetypally linking the mind and body.
Astrologers have always recognized this mind-body connection which medical science has come
to acknowledge fully only in the past six or seven decades (and still not as fully or intimately as
astrology suggests).
Like all houses in the chart, the Sixth must be considered from two or three perspectives: in the
Natural Wheel (zero degrees of Aries on the First cusp), the Solar Chart (the Sun on the First
cusp) and the (timed / rectified) Birth Chart. The Sixth house in any of these charts always
shows any potential for gastrointestinal problems, for example, as well as other pointers to
potential health or dis-ease issues. The sign on the Sixth cusp often identifies particular organic
functions that require attention during an individual's life. Hard aspects to planets in Virgo or the
other three signs in the Mutable Cross (or Cadent houses) may similarly reflect stress and
potential dis-ease. Finally, stress aspects to any planetary archetype anywhere in the horoscope
may also indicate potential disease, mental or physical. But the Sixth is the gateway for entry
into all such analysis of charts.
The Sixth house indicates eating habits, patterns and potential nutritional problems or
deficiencies, along with the Moon and Venus. Hard aspects indicate problems, lacks, excesses,
allergies, toxins, injuries, infections, obstructions and blockages. But easy aspects (in their
dis-ease potentials) can also denote excesses (too much 'harmony,' 'comfort,' lethargy, calories,
sugar, etc.).
This is not a book on medical astrology. But these basic general principles are important to
understand in evaluating psychological self-integration – which is this book’s topic.
Nor is this a book on vocational astrology. But it is essential to understand how the Sixth house
intimately links all three: psychological self-integration with work and health.
More specifically, the sign on the Sixth, planets located there, aspects to them and to the ruler(s)
of the Sixth, can indicate individualized organs and processes – physiological and psychological
'temperament' – that may need attention and adjustments through health issues arising during life.
Those in turn will directly affect vocational choices and success or frustration through work.
All of this psycho-physiological synthesis of self, of how to go out into life and contribute to the
collective through service, is shown at the Sixth.
For instance, simplistically yet accurately, Gemini on the Sixth indicates the lungs as organs
whose health may require attention in life. Smoking is risky for anybody. But some smokers go a
lifetime without exhibiting serious effects (maybe they don’t smoke much). Those with Gemini
on the Sixth, however, should be aware of their risks for COPD, emphysema and lung cancer as
well as lung infections, pneumonia, asthma, etc.
But Gemini’s archetype on the Sixth goes much further. It rules 'inhalation' and 'exhalation'
emotionally and psychologically as well as physically: what we take in from the environment
(including people) and give out to it.
Gemini rules all 'tubes' in the body including limbs, the neck, nerves, veins and arteries. It rules
'connectingness.' It rules sight and hearing, our visual and auditory 'connections' with our
environment. It rules communication, another process of 'connectingness.'
Gemini on the Sixth cusp suggests the importance of being aware of potentials for dis-ease or
stress affecting all those processes in addition to the lungs: eyesight and hearing, neurological
disorders, esophageal disease, conditions (including accidents or injuries) affecting the limbs
and joints, arthritis, muscular dystrophy, duodenal ulcers, appendicitis, multiple sclerosis and so
on.
Obviously, much more is required from studying astrology's planetary and aspect archetypes to
truly reflect predispositions for such diseases (along with hereditary histories, exposure to
toxins and pollutants, etc.), but Gemini's archetype on the Sixth cusp lays the groundwork for
awareness of those potentials, to be strengthened or lessened elsewhere in the chart.
Gemini's archetype on the Sixth exactly replicates those potentials metaphorically in the psyche:
psychological and / or physiological potentials for problems in communication – stuttering, say,
or passive-aggressive behaviors, 'inflamed' communications (like organic inflammations) or
'injurious' or 'toxic' communications including potentials for violent speech and actions,
backbiting and lying, or for weakness and self-victimizing behaviors, disjointed or contaminated
rather than smooth and clear thinking and communications, and so on.
Through further examination and refinement of astrology’s archetypes in horoscopes, the
likelihood of any such possibilities affecting physical or mental health may be narrowed much
more specifically and the timing afforded by transits and solar arcs used to highlight specific
cycles for increased attention to them.
So the Sixth house is enormously important for assessing physical and psychological health and
dis-ease. That includes one’s overall psychological self-integration (one’s capacity for and
approach to individuation in the Jungian sense, about which more later).
It's essential to gain at least a basic understanding of how each planetary, sign and aspect
archetype in astrology correlates to psychological and physiological processes because the
integration of self, physically and mentally, and how we enter life as adults, is shown through the
Sixth.
Ideally, we "follow our bliss" indicated by the Fifth house of "love, pleasure and creativity,"
where we learn and identify what we most love to do, carried through to our Sixth house choices
in occupation – which can be considered a Second house 'resource' of the Fifth house of bliss.
Every house is the Second of resources from its preceding house. The archetypal implication is
to assimilate and refine our Fifth house bliss (those pursuits that bring us joy) and offer it as our
'service' through the Sixth. This can be positive or negative 'service' (if our 'bliss' is neurotic,
misunderstood, repressed or pathological – as in sociopathic and psychopathic psychologies of
self-integration).
Just as the Second house in a natal or Natural Wheel chart shows our overall 'money,' or
resources, and how we handle them, the Sixth shows 'money' or resources through natural talents
and loves shown at the Fifth.
Joseph Campbell’s advice to "follow your bliss" is well taken if we want to be healthy, happy
and live harmoniously and fruitfully. We may or may not be 'wealthy' (a vague term in any case
that depends entirely on an individual’s definition), but we will be comfortable.
Our hobbies, pastimes, creativity, play, pleasures, and so on are tremendously valuable clues to
where we find bliss. They identify those qualities we can optimally educate, train, develop and
follow for happiness, health and success through our life’s work – spiritually, emotionally and
materially.
But there's more to following your bliss than meets the eye, if you want a sustainable career. And
these essentials too are primarily indicated by the Sixth house, its ruler(s) and planets in it.
What is a sustainable career? It's one that makes use of all your skills, year after year, and keeps
challenging you to learn and perfect new ones. It's a career that gives you a sense of meaning.
You're excited about chances to learn and develop. The people you work with energize you.
Your talents and skills are valued in the marketplace and make you confident. You have access
to opportunities through your network of colleagues and contacts. And you can integrate all the
other important areas of your life – family, friends, recreation.
If your definition of success is all about money, power and position you may need to rethink
keeping up with the Buffetts and Trumps. Ultimately, success is about living the life you want,
not the life others want for you or the life you settle for.
Note how the following five practical ways to build a happy sustainable career all relate to the
Sixth house.
1. Be aware and observant of your daily experience at work. What energizes you? What
aspects of your work do you find rewarding? What comes to you easily? What are you good at?
Analyze those daily elements and why you feel that way about them.
Also examine times at work when you feel frustrated. What are you doing? Who are you working
with? Are things too challenging or not challenging enough? Being aware of these negatives can
be even more valuable than knowing what you like about your work.
2. Does your job support your outside priorities? Or do you feel overwhelmed at work? It's
essential to have a flexible work-life balance if you're to have a sustainable career. Seek a work
situation that also supports your life outside work. Happy, well-rounded workers are more
productive and successful. Need flex-time? Ask.
3. Learning is Power. Another key to a sustainable career, and staying happy and self-realized
time, is constant learning. Seek job and career avenues where you can move into a sphere where
there is growth and you can acquire new skills. For some, especially with Mutable signs on the
Sixth, this means pursuing various goals and interests through several part-time jobs or working
freelance.
4. Work around people who inspire you. Having close friends at work who are also passionate
about what they do and where they're going, and who feel supportive and connected to their
employers, not only means you're less likely to be frustrated or quit your job but also to receive
career boosts from others at work who are ambitious, energetic, smart and networked.
5. Develop unique and valuable skills. People who love their work often create unique, sought-
after skills and use them to leverage their career goals.
It's not enough to "follow your bliss": you must "develop your bliss."
We’re now on the road to fully comprehending in some depth what is meant by 'work,'
'occupation' and 'health' in the often shortchanged Sixth house.
Work, Health and the Midheaven Triad
As the gateway to the Seventh house where adult collective living and public self-expression
truly begin, one of the great treasures conveyed by the Sixth house is identifying and refining
your life’s work. Additional supplemental information and details will be found and studied
elsewhere in the horoscope, until ultimately every element of the chart can (and should) be
incorporated to fulfill its role in our life’s work. So 'vocation' – authentic calling – is found here
(contrasted with public status, standing and professional image shown at the Tenth).
One's life’s work is motivated and supported by the overall psychological orientation. That, in
turn, naturally leads to functions which can be offered in service to the collective. Those
functions, then, educated, trained and raised to professional levels, support the Tenth of career
and status.
The Sixth house reveals how the inner you (all the energy archetypes symbolized by the Planets
in the chart) integrates and functions with the outer world (areas symbolized by the houses)
according to your conditioning and scripting (the signs occupied by planets and found on house
cusps). "Planets, Signs, Houses – The Difference" in this series explains these in detail.
The Sixth house is key to your integrative (or disintegrative) psychology: your psychological
'tone,' if you will. People are born with a kind of psychological 'basal metabolism' – Introvert /
Extravert (Carl Jung's spelling), Pessimist / Optimist, for example – that predominates all their
lives unless physical or psychological illness or awareness and transcendence alter it.
Pessimists make the worst out of minor obstacles and challenges and darken their own and
everybody else’s doors with worry and incessant criticism. Optimists maintain their upbeat
psychology even through serious illness or disasters.
To a large extent, the basic psychological metabolism or psychological tone is shown through
the Sixth house, planets in it, its ruler(s), and their aspects. This may be true because this house
shows how you 'adjust' to the inconjunct 150° angle of the Sixth house to the Ascendant: or how
you 'maladjust.'
No planets in the Sixth? Then psychological self-integration may not be a big deal to you, or you
may not be personally or directly interested in serious study and pursuit of it. Without any
planetary energy placed in this house, the external conditioning shown by the sign on the Sixth
cusp and the house matters where the ruler of the Sixth is found play predominant roles in how
you attempt to 'make sense' of everything about yourself and the world around you. You will
learn to be aware of your psychological self-integration because of others' reactions to you
rather than innate curiosity about your own psychology. Other people may point out shortcomings
or problems that need attention, instead of your being aware of them initially on your own. For
some, this means that the gateway into themselves is through the effects they're able to produce in
others – one of the skills of a natural actor and performer.
Like all houses, empty or not, the sign on the cusp reveals the external scripting or conditioning
and external role models for psychological self-integration. The sign on this cusp is often what
you are conditioned to 'go after' in life by parents and others.
The sign here depicts your external scripting for psychological self-integration, work and health.
The ruler of the sign, and its house and sign location(s), also offers further details and important
archetypes for psychological self-integration, as we’re about to see.
Planets in the Sixth? They indicate what type(s) of psychological energies are primarily and
directly involved in your psychological self-integration, acting through the signs they occupy and
the sign on the Sixth. The house rulerships of planets in the Sixth will bring those house matters
to importance in your psychological self-integration. Those with planets in the Sixth usually have
a direct self-awareness of how they want to live their lives, based on their maturity of
understanding about the planetary archetype(s) found here.
It is ultimately impossible to achieve full healthy psychological self-integration or individuation
without also achieving a self-integrated vocational identity or identities. But that is to be
distinguished from mere outer trappings of 'success.' The world is full of wealthy people with
distorted and unhealthy personal lives; even fuller of impoverished people with tragically
truncated existences and disintegrated selves. Both extremes can suffer all the ills, mental and
physical, to which existential dis-ease predisposes.
Conversely, and happily, within both those extremes also dwell many well-adjusted
psychologically integrated and individuated people who are extremely wealthy, along with
others who can’t rub two nickels together but still smile and laugh and love spontaneously
throughout life.
Most of us are somewhere in the middle. As humanity denies (a common but often destructive
protective mechanism) the growing effects and challenges of overpopulation on jobs, income,
economies, food supplies, pollution and climate change – much less rising costs of education
and health care – the future for vocational opportunities and job security looks increasingly
precarious. Or . . .
Maybe jobs and vocations are merely evolving as they always have, with buggy whip
manufacturers yielding to Ford’s assembly lines. Thousands of musicians who managed
lucrative careers and supported themselves and their families playing in theatre orchestras large
and small around the world committed suicide when sound abruptly ended silent films in 1929.
Though we all exist within greater collective contexts, individual lives nevertheless can still
find and achieve happiness, productivity, success, health and wealth – as long as we’re
conscious of what we’re doing and not merely reacting to passing fads, propaganda, worries or
false hopes – or following the herd.
Even in times of great calamity there are those who escape or avoid disaster; even prosper from
it. Why? Luck? Chance? Fate? Though it sounds like a cheap greeting card, there’s truth in the
smarmy adage, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade."
Whether people sour on life or turn its sometimes bitter fruits into lemonade is determined by
how conscious they are of their Sixth house archetypes – with or without astrology – and how
self-integrated.
Some astrologers like to play fortune-teller and identify a client’s job or profession (which
connects inextricably with their mental and physical health) from horoscopes. Others prefer to
analyze what the chart shows as characteristics, psychodynamics and skills required for success
and happiness through work and career, then illustrate how those can be combined to yield a
variety of vocational and career avenues that are naturally appealing and likely for success by
that individual – and when.
During such analyses it’s typical for clients to exclaim, "That’s exactly what I do!" That’s a good
sign. It means they’re already fulfilling the natural bents and talents shown in their horoscopes –
following their bliss to their true vocation to greater or lesser extent.
To the degree that they’re not – when they say, "I thought about doing that once, but I became this
other thing instead, because I didn’t think I could make much money at what I really wanted to
do," or "because my family would have disowned me," an astrologer has located a primary
source of lifelong frustration and potential ill health. Such telling remarks reveal a person out of
touch with natural rhythms and cycles into which they were born; prone to deny self-realization
through excuses and false sacrifices, however rational and practical they sound.
The Midheaven Triad is a good place to begin analyzing vocation, career, finances and – not
incidentally – psychological and physical self-integration and health, since the Sixth house is
part of this triad. As always with astrology, one may gradually expand the focus to include
virtually every significant planet, sign, house and aspect as they relate to the client’s work,
finances and health (which, sadly, often seem separate issues to clients).
In the Midheaven Triad, the Sixth house represents not just the necessary psychological traits
and qualities to be optimally fulfilled through one’s day-to-day work functions and routines, but
also those skills to be educated, trained and refined (through Ninth house higher education) to
achieve any real social standing and respect in the larger community at the Tenth. The Tenth
indicates 'reputation' in that sense. Particularly professional reputation.
The Tenth shows both the authority an individual may attain and also one's relationship to other
authorities over the individual – such as employers or governments.
The four primary triads in astrology – the Ascendant Triad, Nadir Triad, Descendant Triad and
Midheaven Triad – are each comprised of an Angular, Succedent and Cadent house. The Cadent
houses symbolize the supportive Past that leads up to the Angular houses (the immediate
Present), and the Succedent houses show the potential Future projected from the Angles.
The concept is easier to grasp if you consider the Ascendant Triad – the First, Fifth and Ninth
houses. The Ascendant is your overall life in the 'present'; the Ninth your past experience, higher
education and training that leads up to the present (including previous lives, for those interested
in exploring reincarnation through astrology); and the Fifth your natural and spontaneous
projection of yourself into the future. The Ascendant Triad is largely personal since it primarily
operates below the Ascendant-Descendant horizon, except for the remote and collective Ninth
house, which may be taken to represent ones past education in this life or one’s preparation in a
previous life or lives.
Compare the Succedent Fifth and Eleventh houses in a birth chart. The Eleventh house is part of
the Descendant Triad (the Seventh, Third and Eleventh houses), a largely collective triad
primarily focused above the horizon. The Eleventh commonly represents 'hopes, dreams and
ambitions,' or the projection of self collectively into the future in contrast with the Fifth which
indicates the wholly personal projection of individuality into the future. In the Descendant
Triad, the Third house indicates the supportive past that leads up to one’s present closest ties at
the Seventh, including spouses, colleagues, closest friendships and business partners. (Note
astrology's suggestion that one's Third house relationship with siblings, or lack of them if an only
child, becomes an archetypal past or preparation for how one relates to another in marriage or
partnerships in the Seventh.)
Return to the Midheaven Triad, then, to see that the combination of your past psychological self-
integration – the Cadent Sixth house that supports and leads up to your Tenth of collective
professional reputation, authority and identity in a given field – is ultimately projected into your
Succedent Second house 'future' resulting from career attainments; namely 'money' – another
word for freedom of self and resources (as well as 'talents,' an archaic word for money).
The Sixth of psychological self-integration, then, is the Cadent supportive past and foundation
for career, professional identity and standing, public status and financial freedom.
The Sixth is also the foundation for health.
Without which, the wise remind us, we have nothing.
In a real sense, the Sixth house is everything.
Fame and Fortune
Astrology has long shown what has increasingly become well-established medically: the
intimate links between work fulfillment and mental and physical health. The converse is also
evident: people unhappy in their work are constantly stressed, which can result in accidental
injury, dis-ease and illnesses over time.
It becomes apparent with all stress aspects in astrology that it’s not the stress itself but reaction
to it that determines whether it is constructive or destructive. T-Squares, for instance, are classic
indicators of powerful ambition as well as stress. Stress aspects are essential for action and
achievement.
Any action or activity requires 'stress' of some kind to break inertia. Astrology's 'easy' or 'soft' or
'harmonious' aspects (sextiles and trines, say) imply states of being, stasis or inertia. True, they
indicate 'opportunities' and 'favorable' or 'harmonious' and 'cooperative' conditions for forging
ahead by initiating actions directed toward goal achievement – simply because conditions both
interior and exterior and people in the environment are likeliest to respond supportively and
harmoniously under 'easy' aspects. But soft aspects don't, in themselves, imply or promote
action.
If the ambition and drive inherent in T-Squares or 'hard' aspects find constructive avenues and
outlets, the 'stress' required is productive and healthy. If the inherent drives and energies of hard
aspects are thwarted, repressed, blocked, resisted or buried they can find no outlet and are
unnaturally forced inward, where they have nowhere to act except upon the internal psyche and
physical organs. Simplistically but realistically, that is a primary reason 'stress' aspects can be
indicative of dis-eases.
Often ignored is that 'easy' aspects can also indicate diseases through bad habits and endless
loops of 'comfortable' but ultimately passive and destructive behavior. Obesity from poor
nutrition and lack of exercise, for instance, unless corrected, predisposes to illnesses like
hypertension, diabetes, kidney disease, cardiovascular disease and cancer.
The Sixth house has always depicted the intimate relationship between one's work and health:
and one's health and work. Metaphysically, they are interchangeable because the Sixth is the
archetype of self-integration. If the internal organs and processes of the psyche and physical
body (the 'servants' of our existence) are not healthily integrated and functioning harmoniously,
work and occupational functions cannot integrate successfully and healthily with the collective.
As a rule, this is not an either-or but both-and situation. Most people exhibit simultaneous areas
of positive and negative internal and external functioning which express through work and health
to some extent as both 'success' and 'dis-ease.' Astrology, showing aspects of stress or ease to
planets in the Sixth or to the Sixth house ruler, is tremendously helpful in identifying both
constructive and destructive stress, thus making them consciously accessible for recognition,
treatment, change and healthy integration.
A thorough examination of the Sixth house is crucial for understanding the psychodynamics it
implies; the work skills that can be most optimally developed; and the types of work and
routines that will open up the most inherently natural and rewarding paths toward career
fulfillment, self-realization and freedom.
"Will I be rich and famous?" is a common question from clients. But rewards, fulfillment and
freedom may or may not involve money and fame, as witnessed again and again. Different
people achieve and handle fame and riches differently.
In the world of show business, say, contrast George Clooney, Steven Spielberg and Meryl
Streep with Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen or Whitney Houston. If you’re aware of their
differences in background, education, training and preparation you will understand their vast
differences in behavior, psychological self-integration, health and career longevity.
It’s sobering to realize how few actually possess or develop the qualities and traits (shown
through astrology) necessary to achieve and maintain great fame and wealth, despite what they
say and think they want. Many – perhaps most – are ill-equipped and unprepared to handle the
related stresses constructively. They eventually capsize and sink – victims of their own
immaturity, erratic behavior, irresponsibility, bad choices in management and companions, sex,
drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. All of that might be avoided by honest self-appraisal through astrology
and psychology. But the impetus for honest self-appraisal, like the impetus for addicts getting
clean, must usually come from bottoming out, in the time-honored phrase of twelve-step
programs.
An expensive two months at Promises in Malibu may dry you out but it won’t achieve lasting
psychological self-integration. Nor will attending AA meetings twice a week for the rest of your
life. As Dr. Eric Berne correctly pointed out, such alcoholics and addicts merely swap one
addiction (alcohol or drugs) for another (lifelong twelve-step meetings often fueled by desperate
caffeine and nicotine consumption on periodic breaks). Such programs are certainly better than
the addictions that led to them. But they’re not genuine psychological self-integration or
individuation, as revealed by the fear and reluctance to truly 'get well' and move beyond those
weekly meetings.
Gateway to Psychological Self-Integration
The greatest, most essential gift of the Sixth house is its gateway to conscious understanding of
one's psychology of self-integration. It is an invaluable entry into personal psychodynamics for
astrologers who are also psychotherapists or who work with them, but it’s equally essential for
everyday practitioners, amateur and professional.
The sign on the Sixth cusp gives broad clues, in Jungian analytical psychology, to an individual’s
dominant Jungian type of psychological self-integration: Fire (Intuition), Earth (Sensing), Air
(Thinking) or Water (Feeling). It depicts a person’s dominant mode of attempting to understand
and solve or integrate the facets of the self with the world around them, regardless of what
dominant type may be represented by the Sun, Moon, Ascendant or Preponderance of Elements
and Qualities.
An old technique, only somewhat valid in the Jungian sense, is to tally the Elements and
Qualities in a chart to arrive at the Preponderance of type. Here is mine, for instance, which is
strongly Extravert (Jung's spelling) Thinking type.
A technique "only somewhat valid" because through years of experience with clients and
working with psychologists one finds that using astrology alone does not always correspond
exactly to results from, say, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator.
Results from Myers-Briggs and similar tests have certainly proved useful for analytical
psychologists in their work with clients. Katharine Cook Briggs and her daughter, Isabel Briggs
Myers, originally developed the test from their extrapolations from Jung’s works. Other tests and
variants have also been developed and are in use.
In my own work with psychologists and clients (I am not a psychotherapist and refer clients who
want to work on issues brought to light through astrology to professionals for in-depth therapy), I
find astrology is actually more specific and useful than those accepted standardized
psychological tests (though astrology does not replace them).
It is not that the Myers-Briggs tests (or astrology) are 'wrong': they are accurate, as far as they
go. But even psychologists with whom I’ve worked since the mid-70s have consistently
remarked on how specific astrology can be at identifying various dominant, inferior, auxiliary
and tertiary cognitive functions and attitudes in specific situations in clients’ lives: invaluable in
their therapeutic practices.
My own type from the Meyers-Briggs type Indicator is, at its most basic, ENFJ – where E is
extravert, N is iNtuitive, F is feeling and J is judging. I have marginal or no preference of
extraversion over introversion; moderate preference of intuition over sensing; slight preference
of feeling over thinking and moderate preference of judging over perceiving.
In my case, however, and through my nearly 70 years, astrological Preponderance more
accurately reflects my typology than do the Myers-Briggs results. But even then, this simple first
step of mere astrological Preponderance may not be sufficient to accurately identify an
individual’s dominant, auxiliary, tertiary and inferior typology (see "Elements and Qualities of
Signs on the Sixth Cusp" below). Simple Preponderance certainly falls short in identifying
Jungian functioning in my own case and in many of my clients. That requires a deeper study of
the horoscope.
But nothing in Jungian Typology quite correlates to astrology’s Sixth house of psychological
self-integration, which may or may not correspond to one’s dominant or even auxiliary type
shown by astrological Preponderance.
So it may be more accurate to view the Sixth house in astrology as the gateway to individuation
(more below) in Jungian analytical psychology, rather than playing a single role in the hierarchy
of dominant, auxiliary or shadow types, and so on.
Saturn in the Sixth, for instance, may indicate that a person’s primary mode of psychological
self-integration is actually their inferior or shadow function, which if unrecognized and not
consciously dealt with can unravel and destroy a life. Most negatively, that type of
psychological self-integration actually becomes self-disintegration, then. For such people,
psychological reality and health is equated with being sick and maladjusted, with failing and
having problems, which makes individuation and health much more difficult to achieve, because
getting well and getting healthy are perceived as genuine threats to their pathological well-
being. A Jungian would never identify the shadow as a dominant function, by definition, though
astrology can suggest that it indeed predominates in some people's process of self-integration.
The Sixth house accurately reveals an individual’s overall modus operandi of self-integration,
in my experience, regardless of dominant or auxiliary Jungian type.
Jung’s analytical psychology and typing of cognitive functions are controversial to some, but so
are all disciplines of psychology. Freud, Jung, Berne, et al. have devotees and detractors. To
imply one approach is less valid than the others merely because it is controversial is superficial
and specious. Like all scientific disciplines and theories, the arguments and explorations
themselves are valuable and instructive. Though some psychological theories and approaches
ultimately fall by the wayside, any one discipline is unlikely ever to triumph and eliminate all
the others, given the vagaries of approaches to human complexity.
Typically, Jung’s inferior type is opposite the dominant one. Astrologically, my dominant type
is Thinking (Air) and my inferior type is Feeling (Water), definitely supported by my Saturn
placement in Watery (Feeling) Cancer, in T-Square with my Sun-Moon opposition (a Grand
Cross if you add my Ascendant). Still one of the best examinations of Saturn’s potential for
pointing to one’s inferior type or Shadow (not necessarily the same thing) is Liz Greene’s
landmark "Saturn: A New Look at an Old Devil."
Intuitive and Thinking types correspond to Fire and Air signs in astrology, as Sensing and
Feeling types correspond to Earth and Water signs.
Jung also categorized non-rational perceiving functions (Sensing-Intuition) and rational judging
functions (Thinking-Feeling).
He further categorized two attitudes: extravert and introvert. Jung’s two attitudes are less
readily apparent in horoscopes than the types. Extraversion or introversion can be assessed
through analyzing a horoscope as a whole: taking into account Saturn’s (repression,
introversion) hard and easy aspects to planets and points; planets in apparent retrograde motion
(which always withhold and internalize direct spontaneous expression, at least initially, to
greater or lesser extent); and planets’ affinity or antipathy for expression in their particular sign
placements. But appearances may still be deceiving.
Apparent extraversion can indeed mask innate introversion, though genuine extraversion is
usually obvious by its easy, unforced, natural quality. Genuine extraverts don’t demand or beg
for attention like attention-seeking brats: they don’t have to. Nor can genuine extraverts
convincingly portray introversion. Try as they may, one senses them desperately biting their
tongues and forcibly repressing energies that threaten to burst free any second.
But such behavioral traits may have little to do with Jung’s meanings of introvert and extravert,
which concern an individual’s cognitive orientation and only incidentally may depict obviously
externalized behaviors. (See below).
Jung’s dominant and inferior types are clearer in horoscopes (and easier for clients to
acknowledge) than the introvert or extravert attitude (though assessing the dominant attitude
through astrology is equally clear if somewhat more likely to be disguised in practice, especially
introversion).
Jung and Astrology Side-by-Side
Before proceeding, ask yourself: "When I’m down, overwhelmed, stressed out, tired, exhausted,
worried or anxious, what do I do (or want to do) to feel better? How do I recharge my
batteries?" Take a moment to answer for yourself. There are typically two types of responses.
Note yours. We’ll return to it later.
It would seem obvious that to determine a person’s dominant Jungian type an astrologer simply
totals their Preponderance of planets and points by Elements (Fire, Earth, Air, Water) and
Qualities (Cardinal, Fixed, Mutable). The totals may often, in practice, prove accurate. But just
as often they don’t, in strict terms of Jungian types, for reasons explained now.
In addition to Jung’s four types (Intuition, Sensing, Thinking, Feeling), he noted two Attitudes
(Introvert and Extravert). These combinations may be dominant or inferior, Auxiliary or
Shadow.
The inferior type or function is always opposite the dominant one in Jungian analysis (though not
necessarily in astrological weighting).
The auxiliary or secondary function, which is generally but not always present, derives from the
pair other than the pair with the dominant function. If Sensing is dominant, the auxiliary function
will be Thinking or Feeling but not Intuition.
The four criteria are considered 'dichotomies' since each represents a continuum between
opposite poles.
Extravert – Introvert represents the source and direction of one's energy expression. In the
external world primarily (extravert), or internal world (introvert)? One's preference isn't about
being 'social' as about one's tendency to act. Does one generally act then reflect? Or think things
through then act?
Sensing – Intuition is the dichotomy through which information is perceived – Jung's perceiving
functions. Sensing types primarily believe and rely on information from the external world.
Intuitive types primarily believe and rely on information from their imaginative or internal
world. Sensing types prefer concrete facts and distrust hunches unless they emerge from logic,
facts and observation. Intuitive types are more oriented toward abstract thought, theories and
information. They tend to be more imaginative, spontaneous and explorative than sensing types
and live more in possibilities for the future. They see connections and patterns and have sudden
insights.
The third dichotomy, Thinking – Feeling, represents how one processes information; Jung's
judging functions. Are decisions primarily made through logic, or based on emotion (what you
feel you should do)? Feeling types generally try to find the most harmonious solution and reach a
consensus: they're uneasy with conflict. Thinking types seek logical solutions based on rules and
assumptions. They accept conflict as natural and expected. It's an error to assume that Feeling
types are emotional and Thinking types are rational. Both are rational approaches, to Jung, and
either type can be emotional.
Whichever function dominates consciousness (Sensing, say), its opposite function (Intuition) is
repressed and usually defines unconscious functioning. It can define the inferior function and /
or the shadow.
The fourth dichotomy, Judging – Perceiving, indicates how people use information they've
processed. Judging types organize situations and events and tend to follow plans. Perceiving
types are more apt to improvise and try options. Judging types tend to explain how they reach
decisions and prefer to resolve matters, checking off to-do lists. Perceiving types prefer sharing
observations and insights rather than necessarily finalizing matters. They're more spontaneous
and open-ended as a rule, enjoy mixing work and pleasure, and often make last-minute
decisions.
Most people have traits of both ends of the dichotomies but prefer one over the other. No
preference or single personality type is superior. Identifying types and recognizing your
preferences is a primary tool for psychological self-integration, individuation and self-
development.
The Element and Quality of the Sun in male charts and the Moon in female charts are usually, but
not always, more obviously apparent in Jungian typology; perhaps because males tend to
identify with their animus and females with their anima, though that too is far from consistent.
Males may reject their father-figure for various reasons and exhibit problems relating to their
animus. Likewise, females may reject their mother-figure and present problems relating to their
anima. In such cases, the animus or anima may be repressed, feared, confined, controlled, denied
or buried. Such attempts are inevitably futile. If the animus or anima is denied or repressed
(from perceived risks of identifying with it), its only available outlets are unconscious and likely
to express potentials for negative or destructive behavior.
Jung believed that one's psychological type derives from the psyche's competing energies
expressing through equivalence (polarized forces trying to attain balance) and entropy (energy
focused on one aspect creating equal reactive energy in its opposite). So predominant
psychological functions meet their opposites and strive for recognition and balance like siblings
competing for a parent's attention and love.
Thus the continual inner dynamics of tensions particularly reflected in astrology's hard aspects
(square, semisquare, opposition, inconjunct). Personal development, for Jung, is achieved
through acknowledging and managing those inner dynamics. An individual's horoscope not only
depicts those inner dichotomies but also the outer areas of life and relationships through which
they are likeliest to express – and when.
Since the shadow contains the unconscious underdeveloped or inferior parts of our psyches, it
represents those parts of ourselves we aren't aware of or which we deny and repress but are
critical of or fear when recognized in others (projection).
Jung emphasized, "Unfortunately there can be no doubt that man is, on the whole, less good than
he imagines himself or wants to be. Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in
the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is. If an inferiority is conscious, one
always has a chance to correct it."
The inferior function commonly manifests in situations of stress or when we overuse the
dominant function. But it can also distort our perceptions of others and leads to negative
projections even without stress. A key component in analysis and therapy is identifying
projections and exploring the shadow.
Consider these two diagrams: Jung’s analytical psychology and ancient astrology side by side.
They graphically depict the same things: cognitive functioning, inner and outer reality, human
existence and the primordial archetype of Projection. 'Primordial' in the sense that the archetype
of projection underlies all phenomena from the Big Bang to a baby’s birth.
Astrologers recognize the correspondence of the 'Inner World' in the Jungian diagram with the
'Below-the-Horizon' archetype in horoscopes, and the 'Outer World' with the 'Above-the-
Horizon' archetype in astrology, though these have significant differences in each system.
The persona is the face of the ego we present to the outer world. Jung used 'persona' to describe
the mask we adopt to interact with the world according to our inner motives, social conventions
and expectations. It corresponds in astrology to the Ascendant, and that sign's ruler, decanate and
duad.
In Jungian psychology, the persona is essential for integrating with society and the collective. It
helps us adapt our personalities for different environments. A healthy persona is adapted from
our real personality. A weak or non-existent persona makes for social misfits and rebels who
refuse to adjust to conventions and expectations. An overemphasized persona makes for
hypocrisy, insincerity, falseness, immature or poor personality development and inner psychic
conflict.
Astrology reveals a great deal about the effectiveness or ineffectiveness of the persona through
examining aspects to the Ascendant and its planetary ruler.
But astrology goes much further. It posits that we all have sub-personas which we adopt in
various life situations shown by the signs on the houses. Those sub-personas may also be
analyzed for effectiveness or ineffectiveness in specific situations by examining aspects to a
house cusp and its planetary ruler. ("He's wonderful at home but a jerk as a boss.")
Thus the confusing and contradictory phenomena of people who appear highly organized, expert
and rational yet who suddenly degenerate into irrational, frightened, tyrannical monsters in
certain situations or under certain conditions.
Alcohol or drugs can weaken or dissolve the persona or dominant function and temporarily
allow the shadow free reign, since chemical effects lower or remove inhibitions and self-control
(Saturn). "A drink or two makes me feel more at ease and comfortable in social settings," goes a
common refrain. Thus alcohol or drugs are often present in crimes of debauchery or violence,
where the unacknowledged and undeveloped shadow emerges and takes over – so called 'crimes
of passion'.
The Sixth house cusp, as we're seeing, is effectively our persona for self-integration,
psychologically and physiologically, no matter the persona we try to show the world at our
Ascendant.
In "Psychological Types" (1921), Jung outlined his typology according to four mental functions
that synchronously happen to fit astrology’s four ancient Elements – Sensing (Earth), Intuition
(Fire), Thinking (Air) and Feeling (Water) – and two attitudes – Extravert and Introvert – that
aren’t so readily categorized astrologically.
Jung’s attitudes of introvert and extravert depict the basic direction and flow of an individual’s
conscious interests and energies: inward to subjective psychological experience, or outward to
objects, other people and collective experiences.
Many incorrectly interchange 'shyness' and 'introversion.' Though there is a relationship between
them in Jungian psychology, Jung considered introversion an innate characteristic of turning
inward toward the inner world of thoughts, ideas, imaginings, feelings, intuitions and subjective
experience. Introverts derive most of their satisfaction and meaning from that inner world
instead of the outer world of objects, things, accomplishments, material status and people. In
contrast, extraverts dwell almost exclusively in exteriors and gain meaning from constant
interactions with outer realities.
Introverts often have problematic relationships with the outer world, as extraverts do with the
inner world.
The key premise of Jungian psychology is that people’s typology is the lens through which they
interpret and relate to reality: identical to astrology's premise.
In both astrology and Jungian psychology, typology reveals habitual patterns of attracting and
avoiding behaviors. Both emphasize the importance of identifying and understanding one’s own
typology as well as recognizing and accepting the typology of important others: parents, siblings,
lovers, spouses, friends and co-workers, et al.
The attitudes of introversion and extraversion are radically different. Many cultures tend to
stigmatize introversion, viewing it as abnormal or pathological. In its extremes, introversion may
become dissociated, phobic, schizoid or psychotic – completely separated from outer reality.
Extraversion taken to extremes can act out compulsions, addictions, mania, fanaticism, constant
talkativeness and busyness – all of which help extraverts avoid the devouring Minotaur waiting
in their inner labyrinth of self-reflection.
Though they’re inherent temperaments, extraversion and introversion are also influenced by
environment – exactly as astrology’s innate energy archetypes (planets) are influenced by their
genetic environment (the signs they are in) and external conditioning and circumstances (signs on
house cusps).
Signs in astrology are bridging archetypes that can represent both genetic, inborn traits and
scripting (planets in signs) and external conditioning (signs on house cusps).
The goals of both psychology and astrology are the same: conscious awareness, understanding
and honoring one’s and others’ typologies. One difference – an enormous difference – between
Jungian psychology and astrology is that astrology orients the living archetypes within
foreseeable, interactive, dynamic cycles of Time and Space: 'predictions' in the wholly
misunderstood and superficial pop parlance.
No one thinks twice about predicting they will wake up tomorrow morning, or predicting that the
light at the intersection will turn green and they can step on the accelerator. They make another
confident prediction that if they look both ways before proceeding, a drunk driver won’t appear
out of nowhere and slam into them.
We make hundreds of predictions about events large and small every day. Many involve
repetitive cycles that interact in varying frequencies like waves of light and sound (which in fact
they are).
Yet we are nonplussed when astrology predicts – weeks, months or years in advance – illness,
divorce, loss or attainment of a job. Not because it can’t, but because we’re told it can’t.
Psychology also makes identical predictions. "If you persist in behaving this way because you
refuse to understand why, and don’t change your behavior in light of your new understanding,
you’re going to alienate your spouse, children, friends and boss and end up homeless and passed
out in a gutter."
In highly extraverted societies like the United States, or in strongly extraverted families,
introversion is often discouraged beginning in childhood, with extraversion being encouraged as
the desired and acceptable social norm. Result? Many natural introverts strive to become
extraverts, developing a pseudo-extraverted persona, then feel inexplicably and chronically
anxious, tired or depressed. The same conditioning also occurs when an extravert is inhibited by
a socially or religiously imposed façade of introversion.
Extreme extraversion or introversion sometimes stems, paradoxically, from too much of its
opposite; the psyche's trying to balance excessive one-sidedness.
Return to that question asked earlier, about how you prefer to recharge your batteries when
you're stressed or exhausted.
If all you want to do to nurture yourself and recharge your battery is stay home, read a book, take
a bath, meditate, listen to music, sleep, and pursue solo activities, you probably tend toward the
introverted pole.
If you said, "I want to get out and be with people, go to a party, do something exciting," you are
probably more extraverted.
For introverts, that sort of extraverted activity, especially when feeling depleted, is repellant.
For extraverts, the thought of introspection, silence and solitude is equally noxious.
Introverts, to rejuvenate themselves and replenish their energy, must introvert. Extraverts must
extravert. It's natural.
What happens when someone either doesn't know what their typology is, or rejects it? What if
you couldn't answer the question about recharging your battery because you don't yet know or
haven't found what works for you? Or maybe you do know, but won't let yourself do it?
When introverts try to live like extraverts, they beg trouble because they've lost contact with
their true introvert selves, their re-energizing foundation. The same is true for extraverts who try
to be more 'spiritual' or contemplative by cutting themselves off from external revitalization.
Each has lost their tether to their real and personal source of renewal.
Yes, Jung's process of individuation – becoming more balanced and complete – requires
introverts to recognize, develop and integrate their inferior function, their extraversion; and
extraverts to recognize and embrace their potentials for introversion. Individuation can be
demanding and difficult, since owning and embracing one's inferior function requires real effort,
often fraught with fear.
But individuation doesn't mean rejecting one's innate type and replacing it with its opposite.
Introverts remain introverts even while developing extravert skills, and vice versa. The goals of
individuation are balance; accepting and caring for all facets of yourself; and learning that
repressing your true type (or denying others their right to be true to theirs) is unhealthy and
destructive.
Fear as an archetype and energy may be based on a realistic assessment of dangers, as when one
spots a snarling dog or armed assailant. But fear of others' typology can also be an irrational
denial of one's own inferior function or shadow projected outward onto a target. A common
example is religious fundamentalism, in which Sensing Extraverts (for whom reality is accepted
dogma and obedience to external rules) project their Intuitive or Thinking Introvert inferior
functions or shadows onto those who question rules or won't conform to them.
Thus the universal phenomenon of religious fundamentalists fighting to control education and
critical thought. True learning represents their shadow Thinking function, which is a real threat
to uncritical obedience to dogma.
Martin Luther, leader of the Protestant Reformation against the Catholic Church, infamously said,
"Reason is the greatest enemy that faith has; it never comes to the aid of spiritual things, but –
more frequently than not – struggles against the divine Word, treating with contempt all that
emanates from God." And, "Reason must be deluded, blinded, and destroyed. Faith must trample
underfoot all reason, sense, and understanding, and whatever it sees must be put out of sight and .
. . know nothing but the word of God." Luther's words are parroted by religious tyrants battling
the Thinking function around the world even today, in a classic example of projection and Jung's
types acting collectively as well as individually.
There is authentic and rational fear, and artificial irrational fear.
Artificial irrational fear is actually a belief in one's own weakness, not strength. Bullying and
violence against 'the enemy' are common defenses. Yet an underlying belief in weakness always,
ultimately, loses. Artificial fear inevitably projects and transfers strength and power to 'the
enemy,' guaranteeing the irrational bully's eventual loss.
Nazis ultimately lost: Jews ultimately won. But anti-Semitism's battle, ever diminishing, still
simmers among some 'faithful' whose artificial irrational fear (based on self-perceived
weakness) projects and transfers strength and power onto 'the enemy'.
Artificial fear blocks individuation (accepting one's own shadow and inferior components) and
fights them externally in others.
Hard aspects in astrology (squares, semisquares, inconjuncts and oppositions) graphically
depict the likely internal battles which – absent conscious awareness – are often projected onto
others and assaulted.
By acknowledging the realities of the shadow, inferior functions and judging-perceiving attitude
within the self, and consciously embracing their significance and power while remaining true to
one's dominant function and attitude, a truce is achieved. The forces are seen as opposing but
complimentary. Individuation and self-integration may evolve.
That is the massive psychological self-realizing secret of the Sixth house in astrology.
Morality and Individuation
All of that introduces the concept of morality, which contains personality and character but
essentially originates from one's natural inner depths. For Jung, an unconscious reliance on
external dogma is the opposite of true morality because it implies that people's natural inborn
forces are dangerous and untrustworthy. This is the position assumed by all revealed religions:
humans are born 'sinners' out of harmony with the world and require order and control imposed
by outside authorities who 'know better.'
The persona, for Jung, is certainly required for interacting with the demands of external
societies. But its exaggeration or overemphasis prevents establishing true harmony in oneself
and with the collective. "Every man is, in a certain sense, unconsciously a worse man when he is
in society than when acting alone, for he is carried by society and to that extent is relieved of his
individual responsibility," as Jung understood.
Thus the impossibility of authentic adult interactions with religious fanatics. Richard Dawkins
says, "Religion is an evil precisely because it requires no justification and brooks no
discussion."
Anything can become a 'religion'. Corporate or military dogmas, for instance, are other
examples of collectives that demand uncritical obedience to external rules and authorities.
Since the Sixth house is one's archetype for self-integration, it offers tremendous clues about an
individual's affinity for or rejection of externally imposed dogmas.
In Jungian psychology, individuation seeks to balance sacrifice of self to conformity and
honoring one's inferior function or shadow, while productively integrating with the collective.
Relying on external dogmas for personal identity denies any chance of examining or integrating
all aspects of one's psyche: exactly what must occur for individuation and wholeness. The more
we identify with our persona, the more we're likely to have difficulties with our
unacknowledged shadow.
So those collective forces most threatened by awareness and individuation ridicule and condemn
psychology along with astrology and education in general. Personal wholeness requires no
external blessings, permissions or authorities. Nor are human beings 'evil' or out of harmony
from birth.
'Morality' as defined by the ego and external dogma means repressing or controlling the inferior
function and the shadow. The apparent battle between the individual and the collective is
another dynamic or inner tension to be resolved in the psyche. In astrology, that conflict is often
indicated by hard aspects involving the collective archetypes of Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and
Pluto.
We can recognize the phenomenon of projection in individuals and collectives as powerful and
dangerous expressions of unconscious psychological functions throughout the world. Projecting
the functions that conflict with our egos results in alienation and distancing from the other.
Ultimately, they may be seen as an 'evil' to be fought and exterminated.
"What we combat in the other person is usually our own inferior side," Jung observed.
But projections can also operate positively in love and romance, for instance, or working for
bosses who bring out the best in their employees and corporations. To explore the shadow is not
just to acknowledge its negative aspects but to release its potentials.
Jung explains, "If it has been believed hitherto that the human shadow was the source of all evil,
it can now be ascertained on closer investigation that the unconscious man, that is, his shadow,
does not consist only of morally reprehensible tendencies, but also displays a number of good
qualities, such as normal instincts, appropriate reactions, realistic insights, creative impulses,
etc."
We project our own dominant functions onto others with whom we agree. We're naturally
attracted to them because we see in them what we consider our own best and most attractive
selves. To endure, our projections in love and friendships must stand the tests of time (Saturn),
and the adjustments and acceptance required by reality (Saturn again).
A not uncommon inevitability in romantic projections is for the object of our affections
(projections) to temporarily eclipse us, then ultimately devastate us when they fail to live up to
our impossible (unrealistic) romantic projections. If no middle ground is possible, if our own
wholeness is a façade, if we are unindividuated, then 'love' turns to rejection or worse and we
blame yet another failed relationship on the other instead of ourselves for being deluded or
unrealistic.
Another of Jung's myriad insights: "The unconscious has an inimical or ruthless bearing towards
consciousness only when the latter adopts a false or pretentious attitude."
We recognize projection of inferior functions and 'morality' throughout the collective world in
various unending wars and mutual tribal vengeance often justified and fueled by religions. The
Middle East provides one sorry and deadly example. Pollution and its effects on climate are
another projection of collective greed and selfishness: immorality of a different order.
"The upheaval of the world and the upheaval of our consciousness are one and the same,"
according to Jung.
That's also astrology's paradigm since its origins millennia ago: "As above, so below."
Divergence and Details
Before exploring how all this works in practice with a client, it's necessary to look at how
astrology departs still further from analytical psychology.
Consider Thinking and Sensing types. Most basically, astrology presents these as Air and Earth
archetypes. Within each element are three qualities: Cardinal, Fixed and Mutable. Unlike
analytical psychology, astrology immediately defines three sign archetypes for the Thinking
type: Gemini, Libra and Aquarius; and three for the Sensing type: Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn.
All six operate completely differently, though related.
But that's the barest of bare-bones typology in astrology, toward its comprehensive
understanding of Thinking and Sensing types and functioning.
Mercury, for instance, is another astrological archetype for Thinking. It rules Gemini and Virgo.
The dualistic energy symbolized by Mercury expresses through both intellectual (Air) and
physical (Earth) processes of Thinking. Thus it recognizes and incorporates Sensing (Earth) and
Thinking (Air) in a different framework than Jungian typology. It immediately links the mind and
body, for one thing. It rules both the intangible Air sign qualities of Thinking and the neurons,
synapses and physiological Earth sign connections of Sensing.
The Moon and its sign by element and quality are also traditional archetypes of the 'mind' (and
therefore thinking) in astrology, but also of feelings and emotions – as well as the glandular
system, the meninges of the brain, and so on. Thus astrology links Jung's Feeling type to
Thinking, in ways analytical psychology does not.
Further, Gemini and Virgo represent two completely different kinds of Thinking. Gemini is
purely connective thinking. It seeks only to link, join, relate and connect this and that, these and
those – not necessarily to assign meaning or value to them. Virgo is purely analytical thinking. It
seeks to define, distinguish, discriminate, separate, analyze and categorize. By nature, one
Thinking process is immediate, connective and superficial; the other deliberate, separative,
evaluative and critical.
Further, and still considering only the Thinking function, astrology offers the archetypes of the
Third and Ninth houses, which represent even more individualized and specialized Thinking
functions, because the houses are determined solely by time of birth, unlike sign and planet
positions.
The Third house represents routine day-to-day Thinking: habitual thinking; routine mental
processes; topics and subjects that attract or repel Thinking; as well as communication in
general, fine motor coordination and so on. The sign on the Third cusp symbolizes a person's
external conditioning or scripting involving all those aspects of Thinking – which may or may
not harmonize with or support their innate Thinking energies shown by the signs occupied by the
Moon and Mercury.
The Ninth House and Jupiter are also archetypes of Thinking, in astrology: 'higher' thinking
distinguished from 'routine' thinking. Thus Jupiter and the Ninth house are specifically indicative
of Thinking involved in higher education, philosophy, religion, sciences and the larger collective
spheres of intellect.
So astrology, in discussing Jung's Thinking function, requires examination of the following nine
archetypes: Moon, Mercury, Gemini, Virgo, Libra, Aquarius, Jupiter, Third house and Ninth
house. One of those (Jupiter) connects Thinking with Intuition and Feeling. Two (Moon, Jupiter)
connect Thinking with Feeling. One (Mercury) connects Thinking with Sensing.
But astrology's still not finished describing Jung's Thinking function. Those nine archetypes have
degree 'aspects' (squares, trines, etc.) involving other planetary and house archetypes that must
be considered to comprehensively analyze the Thinking function as shown in the horoscope.
Mars' archetype, for instance has nothing (seemingly) to do with Thinking. Mars is often
considered entirely physical (Sensing) and external in its basic energy symbolism. It represents
gross motor coordination. It rules action, initiative, testosterone, adrenaline, drive,
assertiveness, athletic prowess, anger, violence, and so on. But Mars is also associated with
Scorpio, a feeling Water sign.
If Mars happens to occupy Gemini, Virgo, the Third or Ninth house, or closely aspects the
Moon, Mercury, Jupiter or the Third / Ninth ruler, Mars' archetype becomes intrinsically
wedded to Thinking. In such instances, Thinking and Sensing are coupled. If one or the other (or
both) functions are inferior or shadow functions, the self is at war with the self in rather specific
behaviors and situations that only astrology can clearly illuminate through planet, sign and house
placements.
All this begins to suggest the difficulty and complexity of examining Jungian types simplistically
through astrology. It is not to say that one approach is better, but that both are supportive in
enormously significant ways.
Add astrology's unique gift of foreseeing timing and it becomes an unparalleled system for
psychological understanding and individuation – as Jung recognized.
"Since you want to know my opinion about astrology," Jung wrote, "I can tell you that I've been
interested in this particular activity of the human mind since more than 30 years. In cases of
difficult psychological diagnosis I usually get a horoscope in order to have a further point of
view from an entirely different angle. I must say that I very often found that the astrological data
elucidated certain points which I otherwise would have been unable to understand."
Jung’s appreciation of types, functions and attitudes expressing collectively in groups,
populations and nations corresponds to Mundane astrology – the branch that studies politics and
worldwide collective consciousness, e.g. the Dark Ages, the Inquisition, the Renaissance,
Hippies, terrorism, elections, wars, religious strife, et al.
Let's review the essentials before seeing them at work in actual cases.
In addition to the four dichotomies of type, Jung's two attitudes have already been noted as less
readily defined through astrology alone. Yet there are still indicators.
Astrology helps identify extraversion by examining and weighing various influences of
angularity (planets near or in the four angles); Cardinality; Fire and Air preponderance; and the
strengths of the Sun, Moon, (sometimes Venus), Mercury, Mars, Jupiter and Uranus. Introversion
is commonly assessed by weighing influences of cadent placements and the strengths of Saturn,
Neptune and Pluto (and sometimes Venus).
Fixed and Mutable signs are trickier in determining Jung’s attitudes of introversion or
extraversion. They may be either or both in the case of mutable placements. The duality and
variability of Mutable signs (there’s a reason they’re known as 'trickster' signs) can express as
both introversion and extraversion, situationally.
Still, determination of attitude – introversion or extraversion – can be reached through
questioning and examining the horoscope’s various factors with the client.
A person’s dominant Meyers-Briggs type, as pointed out, may or may not harmonize with their
type of psychological self-integration indicated by their Sixth house.
When studying horoscopes, always be cognizant of the differences between signs on a house
cusp and planets in a sign. See "Planets, Signs, Houses – The Difference" in this series to fully
examine how those differences operate in charts.
Simplistically, since houses are archetypal divisions of the 360º circle of the skies incorporating
the ecliptic and meridian, they are imaginary projections from the earth. Houses are essentially
earthy and outer, then. They relate to specific externalized areas of life – including the body and
physical organs . . . and to internal areas of the psyche activated when interacting with exterior
situations such as loving, working, learning, socializing, etc.
Planets in astrology represent preexisting archetypes of energies inherent throughout creation,
including all physical energies involved in the creation of the earth, the solar system, galaxies,
electrons, atoms – and human beings.
More specifically focused in human lives, birth planets in signs indicate inherent or genetic
distributions, focuses and predispositions of psychological and physiological energies.
Signs symbolize preexisting archetypes for those energies’ functions: physical actions,
producing sounds, seeing, hearing, using hands, walking, running, eating, drinking, chewing,
swallowing, digesting, excreting, mating, parenting, connecting, rejecting, valuing, et al. Most
basically, signs represent scripting for functions and for planetary energies.
A sign on a cusp indicates external conditioning about those house matters.
A planet in a sign symbolizes inherent or genetic scripting (DNA) of the planet’s energy.
Uranus, for example, represents all electromagnetic energies, randomness, spasm, fission,
explosiveness, sudden emergence into matter and materiality (among other energy archetypes).
Neptune represents all biochemical energies, fusion, fertilization, contamination, infection,
wastingness, decay, et al. Mars represents heat, acidity, inflammation, injury, cutting, surgery
and so on. Saturn represents structuring, alkalinity, organizing, calcification, hardening, sclerosis
(among other energy archetypes).
Again simplistically, Mars is the energy archetype for action. In human beings Mars is the
archetype for gross motor responses; Mercury the archetype for fine motor responses.
The signs planets occupy represent planets’ genetic scripting at birth: how the energies for
action, electromagnetism, biochemistry, structuring, etc., are predisposed to operate. The houses
planets are in represent their externalized locus or loci both in human psyches and organs and in
outer situations of living.
The sign on the Sixth cusp, then, shows an individual’s conditioning toward psychological self-
integration . . . and her or his conditioning toward belief systems about work, occupation,
health, body-image and self-integration.
The planetary ruler of the sign on the Sixth cusp is the archetype for the primary energy in the
individual that dominates Sixth house matters, including psychological self-integration. The sign
the Sixth house ruler occupies depicts the inherent or genetically scripted archetype the planet's
energy acts out.
Signs in astrology primarily correspond to Jungian types.
Planets and houses in astrology primarily correspond (through their weighting) to Jung’s
attitudes of introversion and extraversion.
As is true for many facets of astrology, the 'art of synthesis' – which can only be secured through
experience – is the determinant for clarifying Jungian types in horoscopes.
The Natural Wheel beginning with zero Aries on the Ascendant depicts astrology’s sign-and-
house archetypes for human life in symbolic order from beginning to end. Unless you are born
with Aries rising, your life necessarily digresses from those.
The Natural Wheel suggests that being born is itself a powerfully aggressive, bloody and painful
Intuitive Extravert (Fire sign, First house, Mars ruled) archetypal experience on both the
mother’s and the newborn’s parts.
Verbal communication, writing and using the hands are naturally Thinking (Air) and Sensing
(Earth) archetypal experiences. Self-integration, work, body image and one’s overall beliefs
about one’s health are, by nature, also Thinking (Mercury) and Sensing (Earth) archetypal
processes.
If you remember the distinctions among sign, planet and house, your understanding and analysis
of the Sixth (or any) house and of planets in signs in determining Jungian types, and whether they
are derived from innate energies or external conditioning, will not be confused.
How does all of this work in real life? Let's go ask Alice.
Ask Alice
Alice (a pseudonym) first contacted me at the suggestion of an old friend of hers in Los Angeles
whom she visited, an actress who was my client. We subsequently had more sessions whenever
Alice traveled west. The first session startled and intrigued her. In later sessions, she half-
heartedly tried to open herself to looking more deeply and introspectively at her life, particularly
her relationships with her husband and children. But that first day she wanted fortune-telling.
"Just tell me what’s going to happen. I don’t need the other mumbo-jumbo," she said soon after
we sat down.
I don’t recall a client in fifty years who so immediately and calmly tried to control and direct a
session. I like control freaks. They’re so vulnerable and defensive, coming from family
backgrounds where power and control and manipulation issues held such tight grips on love and
security. They’re wonderfully easy to disarm.
"Well, that’s fine," I told her. "But if you want a reading with me, and you really want to know
what’s going to happen to you, we need to look at your chart and find out why you chose to
marry a man who deceived you even before you got married – about his health problems . . . and
about children – is he alcoholic, by chance? Because it looks like you come from an alcoholic
background too, and probably had a deceitful father, if he was there at all for you, and it’s
typical to unconsciously marry another alcoholic . . . . Is he impotent?"
She was silent, unblinking and motionless, her mouth half-open, staring hard at me, so I knew I’d
hit home – which was my purpose. Whatever she expected from an astrologer, this wasn't it.
"Older," I continued, "which is typical with this kind of background . . . and with all these
secrets. Which are also typical of alcoholic backgrounds. You do know how vulnerable he is,
don’t you? And how much he needs you? Because he’d fall apart without you. He’d probably be
dead by now, in fact. Is this making any sense to you?"
She hesitated, then nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I smiled gently at her to let my point settle in, then finally said, "Because I’m here to tell you that
if you think all this is fate, that’s happened to you in your marriage, I’m telling you every bit of it
– down to the last detail – was your own choice and your own actions."
I waited while that sank in too. "Just like everything that’s going to happen to you in the future.
It’s all up to you. And how well you understand yourself. And how it’s you that makes things
happen: not fate."
It took maybe two minutes to reestablish control over the session and prove astrology’s validity
to Alice. She was a piece of cake from then on: a sweetheart trying to be a tough cookie.
"So let’s go back to your father. I want to know what happened to you at age three, with him.
Because that’s where it all begins."
Alice’s chart is a revealing illustration of the profound importance of the Sixth house of
psychological self-integration.
The usual interpretive and analytical techniques are fine. But in addition to those, you’ll be
rewarded if you focus specifically on her psychology of self-integration by turning her chart
(mentally or manually) so her Sixth cusp (circled below in red) is on the Ascendant. Look at the
remarkable differences between Alice’s two charts.
You can use this technique (placing the house in question on the Ascendant) to study any house
in more detail. You may also wish to examine how the hallmarks of Alice’s life and
psychological self-integration show up in equally useful but different ways in both charts’
perspectives.
In Alice’s birth chart (it looks like a Solar Chart but her certificate said 6:08 a.m.), everything is
below the horizon except Venus in Aries (accidentally dignified in her Twelfth house). As
wonderful as Venus may be in that house, the Twelfth nevertheless connotes elements of
sacrifice or loss in love and marriage (Venus), along with its nobler spiritual and humanitarian
indications.
Among other things potentially suggested by Alice’s below-the-horizon emphasis is her self-
containment in entirely personal spheres rather than public or collective ones: personal security,
home and family issues.
Another obvious clue: her Sixth house is empty, with Libra on its cusp. It is highly unlikely Alice
has much natural inclination to delve directly into her psychology or self-integration, with no
planets there.
Libra on that cusp suggests that her psychological self-integration is conditioned to behave
harmoniously, beautifully, charmingly, socially and to seek her self-integration through marriage
– through externals and others' reactions to her, then, with no planetary energies in the Sixth
house. She has the Capricorn duad of Libra on that cusp, which adds a pointed awareness of
outer material status to her psychology of self-integration and already begins to connote
attraction to an older (Capricorn-Saturn) partner (quickly confirmed by Saturn in her Second,
sextile Venus of love and marriage).
Saturn is in Gemini (Thinking type), which may suggest Thinking could be her inferior or
shadow function, if the indication is further supported elsewhere.
When we place Alice’s Sixth house on the Ascendant to study in more detail how she achieves
psychological self-integration, everything shifts radically to an entirely public and collective
focus above the horizon, except her Midheaven. Why and how would that be Alice’s modus
operandi of self-integration when, 'by nature' (birth horoscope) she’s so completely focused and
centered in personal areas?
Can it be true, as Alice's Midheaven now in her Fourth house of her psychological self-
integration chart suggests, that she makes her career (MC) and establishes her authority through
home and family issues (Fourth house), to support all that collective and public above-the-
horizon emphasis?
All About Alice
You can’t go wrong if you start with Saturn. Saturn in Alice’s birth chart is in her Second house,
seven degrees from exactly square (across the line of sign) Neptune in her Fifth. You
immediately want to explore issues of money and financial security in Alice’s childhood and
upbringing as they shape her self-worth (Second house) and her Neptunian projection of herself
into her future (Neptune in her Fifth).
With her Saturn in mutable dualistic Gemini, you know Alice has always had to play both ends
against the middle in important ways, to navigate through a life where nothing is quite what it
seems and her future projection of self (Fifth house) is uncertain and filled with secrets (Saturn
square Neptune).
You know you have to bring up areas of self-deception, self-sacrifice and secrets (always
present, consciously or unconsciously, with Neptune) as they affect her romantic and idealistic
Venus in Aries – and love, marriage and children (Neptune in Libra in her Fifth). With Saturn
square Neptune, there is always the threat that her structure, security, permanence, trust and
certainty (Saturn) may at any moment be lost, stolen, betrayed or revealed as fraudulent
(Neptune).
Yes, that’s a generational aspect with those two slow-moving planets that affects, to greater or
lesser extent depending on how the personal planets aspect it, hundreds of thousands born that
day. But always remember: just because something is valid for many doesn’t make it any less
valid for one.
So far, this is classic cookbook astrology. Nothing wrong with that. But keep those indications in
mind.
Now examine Alice’s psychological self-integration chart (her birth chart rotated to place her
Sixth cusp on the First house). In essence, it reveals still more information about how she
integrates and makes sense of what she was born with.
Start again with Saturn, now appearing in Alice’s Ninth of 'higher education' and religion. You
have to explore those two areas with her through this chart in terms of her psychological self-
integration. It’s impossible to miss Neptune now above the Ascendant in her Twelfth house,
indicating that her spontaneous projection of self into the future (Neptune’s Fifth house position
in her birth chart) becomes focused on helping and healing the sick, wounded and downtrodden
(Twelfth house), which could potentially include herself: or focused on escapism through
alcohol or drugs or affairs. Or all of those.
The facts of Alice’s life?
She was born in San Diego to an unfaithful alcoholic father who abandoned his wife, daughter
and son shortly before Alice was three (2½ º degrees separate her Sun-Pluto square; see "Using
Degrees" in this series).
Alice, her infant brother and mother were forced to move back to her mother’s small home town
in the South, where they lived with her mother’s mother (Alice’s grandmother) and depended on
the grandmother and Alice’s uncle (her mother’s half-brother) for financial help.
Both women were heavy drinkers. "But not really alcoholics," Alice said defensively.
"Everybody drank socially." Okay. But experienced professionals recognize this denial of the
elephant-in-the-living-room as reliable code for dysfunctional alcoholic families.
Alice’s mother was tireless and enterprising. For a time, she owned and operated a beauty shop
(thanks to her half-brother’s buying it for her), then took a series of secretarial jobs over the
years, supplementing that income by renting to boarders and selling her beautiful and prized
custom-made garments (she was a skilled seamstress).
Alice grew up wearing stylish hand-me-downs from the year-older daughter of a well-to-do
couple a few blocks away. Pretty, endowed, smart, well-dressed, genuinely sweet, kind and
loving (a good Taurus), Alice was popular and accepted by her high school’s in-crowd despite
having a divorced mother (a stigma in those days) and no money.
She won a partial scholarship to a small college, which she attended for one year before
finances forced her to return home to work. Eighteen months later, Alice became engaged and
married shortly before turning twenty-one (one degree from an exact conjunction of her solar arc
MC with her Part of Fortune in her Tenth of status, suggesting her time of birth may be off by
four minutes or so; and also a multiple, by 3, of her Saturn-Neptune's square, which is seven
degrees from exact).
Her mother chose Alice’s future husband from a local newspaper article about the man. Ten
years older than Alice, he was a graduate of a good east-coast university, only son of the
prominent banking family in his own home town (even smaller than Alice’s), who was coming to
work that summer as an intern for a bank in Alice’s town, the article said.
Alice’s mother had friends who lived at the apartments where the man was renting. She arranged
for Alice – who even today remains slender, well-endowed and attractive – to join her friends
to swim in the apartments’ pool – in a bathing suit, obviously. The friends introduced Alice to
this wealthy man. He was smitten with one look.
So Alice, though highly intelligent, had only one year of education beyond high school, then
married and moved to her husband’s small town where she immediately assumed the role of a
social leader because of her husband’s family’s status. As it happened, he was a Scorpio, the
sign on Alice’s Seventh house of marriage and a terrific sign for a banker.
Look for a moment at love and marriage in Alice’s birth chart compared to her psychological
self-integration chart.
Did she love her wealthy older husband? Undoubtedly. Venus sextiles Saturn – favoring an older
partner – and falls in her Seventh of marriage in her self-integration chart: the fulfillment of her
psychological self-integration through her Venus archetype. Venus in Aries indicates an early
marriage and a rapid one. "Marries in haste, repents in leisure," goes the old Venus-in-Aires
maxim.
Marriage for Alice in her birth chart is ruled by Scorpio on her Seventh, and by Mars in Cancer:
a marriage for conventional reasons of home, family and security. Did Alice gain from the
marriage? Venus trines her Jupiter in Leo in her self-integration chart’s Eleventh: the
psychological self-integrative fulfillment of her Jupiter archetype. Venus and Jupiter sextile /
trine Saturn are classic indicators of material comfort and even wealth, especially over time.
They were the wealthiest leading couple in Alice's husband's small town when her father-in-law
retired and her husband took over. Alice dedicated her life to improving the town’s school,
library and disadvantaged youth (whom she understood well). She was prominently active in
every social, church and community non-profit organization. (There’s all that above-the-horizon
self-integration into outstanding collective roles!)
Sex? Children? Neptune of secrets in her Fifth house at birth and her Twelfth in her
psychological self-integration chart?
Her older husband neglected to tell her until after their marriage that he was seriously epileptic
and wanted to adopt rather than risk passing on his condition to biological children. He also
withheld his parents’ and his own severe alcoholism (and his awkward fumbling impotence)
until after their marriage (terrified he’d otherwise lose her). He had been on medications since
childhood and fought serious depression all his life (and he was a fighter, as befits a Scorpio).
Nothing was as he’d presented to Alice. They adopted two infants during the first two years of
their marriage. (Neptune in the Fifth is one indication of adopting.)
More Fifth house secrets? Alice was a virgin when she married. But sex with an older alcoholic
and impotent husband wasn’t the earth-shaking passion she’d dreamed of from movies. Two
years into her marriage, she had a discreet affair with a virile young (single) local mechanic
close to her own age but broke it off before it could damage her marriage, family or reputation.
Alice was devoted to her husband, children, church and local charity work, helping improve her
town every way she could. She was an unpretentious though beautiful, charming and gracious
social leader for forty years, until her husband’s death. No one in town ever questioned, crossed
or argued with her or her husband. They wouldn’t dare: he held yea or nay power over all their
loans.
That was Alice’s socially prominent, comfortable, self-contained life after her doubtful
beginnings. Her husband later sold the bank and retired. They moved to a larger city for his
increasingly serious medical conditions. She and their children inherited millions when he died
(Jupiter ruling her Eighth of inheritance, in her Fifth in Leo, trined by Venus, her Sun-Ascendant
ruler).
Saturn in Alice’s Ninth house in her psychological self-integration chart also begs examining the
role religion plays in her life. (We’ve seen how it reflects her prematurely short-circuited higher
education.)
Organized religion is a Ninth house Sagittarian matter – in its conforming, tradition-loving,
impressionable, unquestioning, dress-for-church, dogmatic elements. Religion becomes
spiritual, inward and transcendent in its Twelfth house Piscean expressions. Those two
archetypes are at odds (square) in Alice’s horoscope. One is knowable, dependable and socially
approved (if the rules are followed): the other is not, except inwardly.
The Biblical Matthew, relating the Sermon on the Mount, says it all: "And when thou prayest,
thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the
corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, they have their reward.
But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy
Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."
In Jungian terms, that’s a concise description of the difference between religion as an extravert
and spirituality as an introvert cognitive function.
So an astrologer would necessarily examine the role that conservative, Saturn-tinged Ninth
house religion plays in Alice’s psychological self-integration throughout her life. Because Saturn
is the archetype for the skeleton and bones in the body and metaphorically for the structure and
architecture of one’s life.
Alice is highly religious. Her 'church family' is the center of her life. She is dogmatic, stubborn,
inflexible and politely defensive about it. Though she considers herself relatively liberal for her
locale, she is anti-choice, anti-abortion, deeply troubled by same-sex marriage and equality, and
privately afraid her Jewish daughter-in-law is going to hell.
Those two Saturn elements alone in Alice’s psychological self-integration chart – her lack of
higher education relative to her friends and position, and her rigid adherence to conservative
religious dogma – are immediate keys to comprehending Alice’s psychology.
Rejected as a toddler by her unfaithful alcoholic father, she replaced him with a reliable and
loving 'Father in Heaven.' But even that father offers conditional love, not unconditional.
Scriptural authority, male authority, must be obeyed if one is to enter the Pearly Gates instead of
the Pits of Hell. Critical thinking and questioning (per Martin Luther, all religious authorities,
and Saturn in Gemini) must be repressed at the risk of being shunned by others (another form of
rejection and abandonment). And the psychology of Libra on the Sixth tries to please and charm.
Everybody.
The chance to encounter and develop inner transcendence or direct experience of 'God' through
Neptune – square Alice's Saturn – is feared, blocked and rejected because it threatens to
undermine her unquestioning obedience to the external trappings and dogma of her church family.
It would threaten her place in the community and even her marriage. She prefers dressing up and
praying publicly (extravert). The last place she seeks 'God' is shutting the door behind her to
pray alone in her closet. (Astrologers recognize that this same position of Neptune in the Twelfth
is also an archetype of depth psychology, which Alice also shuns because it is too threatening.)
Alice married young, to a wealthy older father-figure chosen by her mother (for material
security: love and emotional security were secondary to practical concerns). Like Alice's father,
he too turned out to be alcoholic; self-protectively deceitful (common in alcoholics); concealing
serious chronic illnesses and impotence until after their marriage; needing a care-giver as much
as a wife to show off and be proud of.
None of this is to say they did not love each other. They did, for forty years until he died. But it
illustrates the often unspoken mutual needs that can underlie marriages and love ties, and how
those dynamics are depicted in horoscopes.
Alice needed dependable material security to provide for herself, her mother’s later years, and
her (much wanted, adopted) children. Her assets were her physical attractiveness, native
intelligence, loyalty, domestic skills, unforced charm and desire to please. He needed a trophy
wife to augment his status in town by filling the role of admired wife, mother and pillar of the
community – and also secretly needed a caregiver he could rely on to see him through "in
sickness and in health." His assets were financial, material and intellectual (he had a good
education and took over the bank from his father, successfully expanding it, capitalizing on his
Scorpio talents). He loved Alice and she loved him. Both got what they wanted; both took their
marriage vows seriously; both accepted marriage’s all-too-human compromises till death parted
them. Astrologically, they were tremendously well-matched.
None of that really touches on the economic class dynamics also involved in their marriage.
Class is still, and certainly was in bygone years, an almost taboo topic in America. Alice came
from nothing. Her husband was wealthy. The wealthy girls in his small town could afford to –
and did – go off to schools where they met and married far more physically attractive specimens
than the small town banker's short, slight, epileptic, alcoholic, but loving and yearning son. Class
and educational differences can be another layer of power dynamics in marriages. And elements
of power, possession and control are often undercurrents where Scorpio (Alice's husband's sign
and the sign on Alice's Seventh house) are involved.
Happiness? What defines it? What is it?
One readily sees in Alice’s life her earthy Taurus components of desiring material security and
physical comforts; her fundamentally loving nature; her loyalty, dependability, desire for home
and family; her beauty, charm and desire to please – even to sacrifice for others.
By astrological Preponderance, however, Alice’s dominant function in Jungian typology should
be Intuition and her inferior or unconscious function Sensing. In fact, in practice, it is the
reverse, which shows how an astrologer must explore more deeply than simple Preponderance,
though Preponderance may also be a helpful starting place.
Alice’s dominant function is Sensing Extravert. She herself comments "I can’t sit still. I have to
be doing something." She begins every day by driving to an athletic club to exercise. She can’t
be quiet. Around others she presents a steady stream of talk for talk’s sake that is occasionally
so unrelated to the moment it provokes laughter.
Alone, Alice has television on in the background while she simultaneously reads, knits, cooks
and takes phone calls. She has never had a meditative or contemplative moment in her life, other
than within the safe and socially approved walls of her church several times a week where
instead of going inward and meditating she reads aloud with others from the prayer book, sings
hymns and listens passively to sermons. Neptune in her chart – genuine direct transcendence – is
too threatening to her carefully-achieved and regulated Saturn structures.
But Saturn in Gemini in the Second house of self-worth can be a double-edged sword. (Note too
its indication of financial 'duality' in life – from poverty to wealth.)
Alice has trouble sleeping; an admittedly light sleeper. "I have to be doing something." Her
social calendar is full and continually conflicted as she receives new invitations and takes rain
checks on previously scheduled ones. "I have to be doing something."
Her enterprising, lonely, abandoned, divorced but determined and loving single mother also
always had "to be doing something" to take care of her children. Is it any surprise Alice shares
the alcoholism that’s a constant thread in her father’s, mother’s, grandmother’s and husband’s
family backgrounds? It’s the only 'acceptable' escape from all her self-imposed pressures.
(Early on she tried and wisely abandoned affairs as escape.)
Alice’s auxiliary function would be Feeling, but she denies it, flatly insisting "I’m not
emotional." She’s one of the many people with a minimal or absent auxiliary function. (Her
assertion also perfectly depicts the inner reality of Saturn's square blocking Neptune's energy in
the psyche.)
Alice’s Sensing Extravert function so dominates her psychology that even though she sees herself
as highly spiritual (Intuitive or Feeling Introvert), she is in fact religious (Sensing Extravert).
Alice is wholly oriented toward outer dogma, scripture, rituals, rules, external authorities, her
'church family' and parroting the received 'Word of God' revealed to and through others (all
males), not to her directly, personally or inwardly. She accepts only what’s 'tried and true'
according to approved external sources passed on for generations through tradition. That kind of
religion is Sensing Extravert. The inner aspects of religion, namely inward intuitive and
emotionally directed spirituality and transcendence of the outer and material (and the ego) are
Alice’s inferior functions.
Her inferior function, opposite her dominant one, is Intuition (despite her astrological
Preponderance in Fixed Fire); her inferior attitude is Introvert. In Alice’s case, Thinking
Introvert is her Shadow. Critical thinking is her Devil (as for most fundamentalists).
Where is Alice’s Saturn? In the Thinking function of Mercury-ruled Gemini in her Second house
of self-worth, which we noted immediately. The last place Alice looks, or has ever looked, is to
her own thoughts, her own rational judging faculties (the Thinking-Feeling dichotomy in Jungian
terms), for answers, insights or solutions. "Tell me what to think. Tell me what to do. Tell me
how to act. Tell me what’s going to happen. Skip the mumbo-jumbo."
Alice’s entire life is defined by externals: by what has been handed and told to her; what can be
seen, touched, tasted, owned, displayed, banked and stashed in a safe deposit box for a rainy
day. Her psychological self-integration chart – where everything is above the horizon –
graphically clarifies her psychology.
Is that a bad way to live? Is Alice’s Sensing Extravert type and Thinking Introvert Shadow less
valid than other typologies? Absolutely not. Jung reminds again and again that the types are
different from each other, not better or worse. He also reminds us how profoundly they shape
lives, and how important individuation is for achieving happiness (individuation being the
conscious ability to access all one’s cognitive functions while honoring one’s innate, inherent
dominant one).
Alice mistrusts all inward (introvert) directed manifestations in life – like psychology,
astrology, spirituality and critical thinking. The sole reason she ever returned for sessions was
astrology’s accuracy about outward situations in her life. She and I became friends (a wonderful
ancillary benefit of astrological practice) over the years. I was invited to stay in her home with
her and her husband several times in my travels. But I was, in effect, a West Coast intellectual
flirtation she had with her shadow: another kind of 'affair,' non-romantic and kept secret and
isolated from her 'real' life.
Jung’s perceiving type is anathema to Alice. Her preference is judging.
In astrological sessions, she avoided going into depth about how her belief-systems, established
by her early circumstances and determining her choices, created situations in her life. She
wanted fortune-telling. "Just tell me what’s going to happen. Skip the mumbo-jumbo."
The inner directed (introvert) dimensions of astrology, reality, cycles, projections, even of her
beloved religion, frightened Alice and threatened her fundamental security – so they were
ignored and dismissed. Though not an obvious superficial snob, material status defines
everything to Alice. She always dresses well and constantly cooks, raises money, donates
clothes and otherwise 'helps' the poor and less fortunate. Good works? Certainly. Motivated by
selfless charity? Guilt? Approval from her church family? All three? Who’s to say?
There are those who, fully in touch with all aspects of themselves, consciously choose to devote
their lives to helping others. There are those who, running from all aspects of themselves,
concentrate on others' lives because their own pain or hollowness is too much to face.
What can be said is that there is a price for surrendering aspects of one's inner self and
psychology so completely to outer determinants (Sensing Extravert) and blocking access to the
other functions: surrendering individuation, in other words. It is a form of unconscious self-
denial and self-destruction that may take many years (especially in Fixed signs like Taurus) to
become evident through mental or physical dis-ease.
It is also entirely different from the conscious self-abnegation of a nun, say, or an aesthete,
scientist or physician who chooses to sacrifice self or ego to 'God' or Art or Science or
medically treating the poor in a third world country.
It is the unconsciousness of the rejection of parts of the self in people like Alice that is
dangerous. Materially, and viewed from her dominant Sensing Extravert function and attitude
and judging preference, (all superficially approved by others), everything appears to have
worked out well for Alice – if one doesn’t dig too deeply into her vastly dysfunctional
relationships with her husband (who, with her consent, 'owned' her) and children.
Only now, free of her husband and son (her middle-aged daughter is highly troubled, never
married, and functions psychologically and temperamentally at the level of a fifteen year old) as
Alice approaches seventy in apparent perfect health, has she begun showing troubling early
stages of dementia.
This is not to say – I repeat – that Alice’s belief systems and psychology or astrology's planets
cause dementia (or cancer, to which she may also be prone; she had a hysterectomy a few years
ago "to be on the safe side"). It is to say that her psychology and belief-systems are synchronous
with such ultimate physical conditions of dis-ease, psychological one-sidedness and lack of
harmony. Those probabilities do show up in horoscopes. (They can also be changed if
consciously understood early enough and treated professionally. But in practical experience
over fifty years? Many people sadly do not expend the time or effort to change – then blame the
eventualities on 'fate.')
No one can fear, deny and reject any of the Self’s psychological functions for decades without
negative results. Fear, denial and rejection of them are essentially attempts to destroy something
about the self: forms of psychological self-abuse and suicide.
In Alice’s case, her own critical thinking poses such terror (she believes) that it must be blocked
– even from manifesting in those around her. She is careful to choose friends like herself, who
do not think critically and don’t rock boats. It can hardly surprise a psychologist or astrologer
that one probable result might ultimately be neurological disorders, which Alice has indeed
begun to experience and rightly grow concerned about.
Saturn rules blockage and calcification, remember: in Gemini it blocks certain kinds of
communication, expression and even the neurons in the brain, where it synchronously depicts the
plaques characteristic of Alzheimer's disease.
On one hand, any remotely questioning remarks about God, religion or her received opinions
about any topic threaten Alice. She meets them with robotic glassy-eyed defiance – a startling
change in her usually sweet, people-pleasing demeanor – and literally walks away from them. It
reveals her utter and unconscious dependence on secondhand socially approved 'revealed'
religion (not directly inwardly experienced) for direction and security. To the degree her
religion is challenged or shown lacking or false through contradictory facts, her security falls
apart. She must withdraw or further isolate herself from sources or criticism or questioning. But
even alone or isolated, Alice cannot be quiet or go inward. "I have to be doing something."
On the other hand, Alice remarked more than once during sessions that "I’m not emotional." Her
entire self-image is carefully constructed in her own psychology and for external appearances
(her Taurus Sun at her Ascendant and Libra on her Sixth cusp of psychological self-integration)
to appear rational, level-headed, stable, balanced, thoughtful, unemotional, arts-and-beauty
loving, practical, conventional, conforming, materially secure, warm, generous and
conventionally pretty. Emotional scenes of any kind – even normal ones – are dismissed.
Not 'emotional?' What Alice means is she’s not emotionally demonstrative. Her ego, her pride,
her Taurus Sun and Leo Moon, her Libran psychological self-integration, depend on maintaining
the appearance of those traits just cataloged. Below the surface, however, dwells her Sun square
Pluto, a potent archetype implying far more than mere anger involving her animus and men in her
life: it points to unconscious rage.
William C. Davidson referred to Pluto as a "triple-strength Mars" in his medical lectures: but
Pluto’s archetype operates below consciousness unless brought to awareness through astrology
and psychology, unlike Mars’ more conscious archetype. That's why Pluto’s long-term negative
effects can be so destructive.
Alice’s rage, astrologically and psychologically, can be traced to age three (the number of
degrees separating her Sun-Pluto square) and the figurative 'death' of her abandoning alcoholic
father – the male animus archetypes of the Sun and Leo and the Fourth house. It would be one
thing if he had actually died. Then Alice could mourn, idealize and move on. But he didn’t. He
remained alive, rejecting and betraying her, her brother and mother and his marriage vows at her
age three. It's easy to say that she got over it and moved on. But the effects of the event (and that
Sun-square-Pluto in her chart) forcibly affected everything in her life from then on, emotionally
and materially. In Fixed signs, that early fear and rage never goes away. It can be transformed,
if consciously understood and treated. Optimally, such rejected spouses and children get
counseling or therapy – unheard of in 1947 small towns.
So Alice’s Sun-square-Pluto archetype involving her animus, males, her father, her husband, her
ego, her home and family (Pluto in her Fourth), her belief-systems about marriage and security
and foundations – all that is contained in her powerful Sun-square-Pluto configuration. It later
led, for understandably self-protective reasons on the surface, to choosing to marry a man who
betrayed Alice in another way – concealing his serious chronic illnesses and alcoholic
background out of his own needs for love and security and devotion (and power and control).
It is often true that we unconsciously choose people and situations later in life to reenact early
difficult or traumatic episodes, in hopes of healing them or making them turn out right. In Alice's
case, she unconsciously chose to marry a man who would betray her in other ways than her
father had. Her reaction was, to her, entirely healthy and self-affirming. She behaved
superlatively in the face of all her marital challenges, remaining loyal, loving, rock solid,
dependable and caring to the end. For Alice, those are deeply self-validating qualities she's
learned to love in herself. They were why she was put on Earth, as far as she's concerned.
Whatever early doubts about her self-worth Saturn square Neptune may have indicated, she
conquered them on at least those hugely self-affirming levels.
Note too the always-present (and nearly always unspoken) elements of power-and-control issues
where Pluto operates in hard aspect (and even in soft aspects, though with less obvious and
potentially damaging effects). Unconscious and unaddressed, those issues can wreak eventual
havoc on every area of a life, including psychological and physical health, despite superficial
appearances to the contrary.
It seems entirely natural and unremarkable, even predictable that, being ten years older, Alice’s
husband would eventually develop cancer or some other chronic age-related condition (he had
serious chronic illnesses long before he met her) and die a protracted (Fixed sign) death
ministered by Alice’s constant and loving presence. Natural and unremarkable until you think
about it.
Other women in identical circumstances with identical older husbands, but different horoscopes,
chose mates who were not secret alcoholics, were not impotent, did not conceal – till after
marriage – chronic multiple illnesses they’d coped with since childhood, and did not die
prematurely from lengthy struggles with illnesses.
Different horoscopes, different belief-systems, different outcomes.
Still, horoscopes and astrology cause nothing. As Jung knew, astrology’s archetypes are
synchronous with experiences, not causative.
Unacknowledged rage inevitably leads to relationships in which power and control are hidden
dynamics. Alice’s marriage had those in spades. Her older husband suffered his own issues as
the chronically ill, physically weak only son of "bad" (Alice’s word) alcoholics, though
wealthy. Power and control through money were his only real strengths. His persona was the
genial arrogance of the know-it-all who, exactly like Alice, rejected critical thinking and
parroted received opinions as his own. Both he and Alice reigned supreme in their conservative
small town. Nobody ever questioned or criticized them. They both reacted in the same
unconscious ways to challenges to their taken-for-granted superiority: displaying immediate,
rising, barely controlled blind rage and an instinctive cutting off and cutting out of offenders.
Given their backgrounds and horoscopes, their behavior is perfectly understandable. Alice’s
existence as a child, girl and young woman was totally dependent on pleasing everybody (Libra
on her empty Sixth house of psychological self-integration). Even her image and appearance, her
wardrobe through high school, weren’t her own: she dressed in another’s hand-me-downs from
a stylish, wealthy, year-older neighbor.
That’s a not inappropriate metaphor for Alice’s entire life, which has relied for effectiveness
and security on her Sensing Extravert function and blocking her Thinking and Feeling functions:
adopting opinions, behaviors, clothes, choices, actions, religion and even children handed her
by others – a path that's comfortably sustainable only by repressing the judging and thinking
functions.
Few would want to think existentially about all that unless they saw some benefit. The buried
treasure promised by astrology through Alice’s understanding her psychology of self-integration
is through finally realizing that the insecurity and rage she repressed beginning at age three, that
have forced and shaped her life since, are nothing to fear any longer as an adult: that her choices
were made as much out of love for herself and others, as for any other reasons.
But if Alice won’t let herself think through all that consciously (yes, it requires psychotherapy
to be safe and effective), to finally embrace and accept all of herself mentally and spiritually –
as would, presumably, the loving Heavenly Father she dresses to the nines and drives miles to
pray to every Sunday – she can never know it, own it, heal it. She will remain powerless over
the silent demon she’s locked inside her attic for nearly seventy years.
Astrology isn’t a parlor game.
Alice and I communicate only when she occasionally phones, today. Less than a year after her
husband’s death, Alice began showing signs of dementia despite otherwise apparent good health.
A stroke is also not unlikely, given her chart. I’ve not mentioned that, but have suggested,
because of her concerns about increasing 'forgetfulness', that she see her husband’s clinical
neurophysiologist, with whom she established great rapport and years of history through her
husband’s chronic brain disorders.
My original client, Alice's actress friend who first suggested she see me so many years ago, has
said that she and others have discussed Alice's increasing alcoholism and unfocused behavior:
losing keys, misplacing mail, neglecting bills, missing flights (she travels often, 'to get away')
getting lost while driving in her familiar town.
This is not to say, again, that her or her husband’s horoscopes or belief-systems or Jungian
typologies or archetypes cause alcoholism, epilepsy, cancer or dementia.
It is to say, again, that they are synchronous with those illnesses and reflected in horoscopes.
If some of the above sounds overly dramatic, or mere colorful metaphors and speculation on an
astrologer's part, or retrofitting astrology to jibe with facts, consider:
Pluto's archetype operates so deeply and far from consciousness that it is usually dismissed,
trivialized or taken-for-granted until it becomes impossible to ignore. Only astrology makes it
immediately apparent as something to be studied seriously in someone's life.
The first thing I asked Alice was about her Sun-Pluto square: to go back to her age three and
what happened with her father, because it was the key to everything else about her life.
Alice was (is) a 'control freak' (Saturn). Why? The answers became abundantly clear working
through her chart with her. Control was taken from her early on. Saturn in Gemini (Thinking
Introvert) is her shadow. Once she believed she'd regained control and power through marrying
it, that too turned out to be not what it seemed. But the financial and material security it provided
(external, not internal, control) has helped her continue to direct her focus outward, not inward.
In her birth chart, Alice has no planets in her Sixth house of 'health' and Libra on its cusp –
attractive, charming, Venus-ruled people-pleasing Libra. Apparent good health in life.
Venus (ruling her Sixth) is in her Twelfth, however: her only planet above-the-horizon in her
birth chart. Venus is in Aries – the head and brain. In Alice's chart for psychological self-
integration, Neptune is in her Twelfth (hidden conditions, subtle, difficult to diagnose or
misdiagnosed). In both charts, Neptune in Libra correlates absolutely and in detail to the facts of
Alice's life, including her marriage, her husband's alcoholism, alcoholism in both families for
generations, her husband's secret epilepsy and impotence, Alice's adopted children, et al.
Dementia and Alzheimer's are not normal parts of aging, statistically. Further, there are several
forms of dementia. In Alice's case, it is likely vascular dementia (blood vessels) because, as
we've seen, Saturn's planetary energy archetype (restriction, blockage, control, obstruction,
sclerosis, among other things) in Gemini ('tubes' and connections in the body, including blood
vessels, neurons and synapses) has long been chronically reflected in the outer circumstances of
Alice's life and her psychological reactions to them. 'Control freak.' It is no surprise they would
finally manifest physiologically as well. Saturn in Gemini, as mentioned, also rules the plaques
and tangles consistent with Alzheimer's.
The prevalence of vascular dementia ranges from 1 to 4 percent in people over age 65. Alice's
symptoms, according to friends, began to be noticed after her husband's death at her age 65 (loss
of the control and power she had married at 21).
Finally, all these characteristics are typical with how Pluto synchronously operates in astrology
– far beneath the surface, completely disregarded until 'too late.' Even when identified through
astrology, clients and physicians may well dismiss its indications, either because they deny its
implications ("I got over that a long time ago") and discard astrology itself; or because they don't
look for symptoms; or attribute symptoms to other or more superficial causes, failing to
recognize the depths at which this archetype acts.
The Outer Planets or collective archetypes help pinpoint a client’s relationship to generational
or collective elements in the group or in society – for good or ill, in strength or weakness, as
we’ve touched on with Alice.
Pluto’s position can indicate obsessive-compulsive behaviors; 'do-or-die' intractability; power
issues in relationship dynamics. At its most negative, it may point to potentials for emotional /
psychological destruction, violence, physical or sexual assault, and buried rage. At its most
positive, it indicates healing and renewal through surgery, powerful medications
(chemotherapy), conscious understanding (with professional psychotherapy) and transforming
past and present crises into ongoing strengths and triumphs through genuine power of – not
power over. The power of honest and loving self-awareness, not power over 'dangerous'
thoughts and feelings.
Neptune’s position (particularly in Alice's chart for psychological self-integration) can whisper
of secret behaviors, self-deceptions, delusions, seductions, betrayals, lies, fraud, scandals,
cheating, vulnerability, escapism, misdiagnoses, criminality, drug or alcohol issues, infections,
poisoning, sexually transmitted diseases and the contamination, blurring or weakening of
whatever it touches. Positively, Neptune promises ever-deeper illumination and limitless
compassion for self and others through understanding and letting go of (sacrificing) past
destructive beliefs, bad habits and associations: replacing them with Neptune's path to emotional
joy and metaphysical ecstasy through enlightened and conscious self-worth, experienced every
second of every day, waking and sleeping: a hallowed and long venerated kind of human
existence that is absolutely possible.
In Alice’s birth chart, you would probably have found all those keys regarding early financial
hardship, limited education, reliance on religion, family and marital secrets, dominant / inferior
types, and the Shadow . . . but you can't miss them in her psychological self-integration chart,
which reflects still greater insights into Alice’s psychology and life through her particular
looking glass.
Before Time Began
One of the most striking demonstrations of how astrology’s ancient archetypes apply to anybody
in the present moment first occurred to me when I was invited to speak for a group the 1980s. I
still use the beautiful leather briefcase they presented me afterwards.
I arrived early. On a whim, I placed a legal pad and pen on the first table by the entry. As guests
arrived, I introduced myself and had them print their names the moment they stepped inside. I
remained there to make sure they listed their names in correct order. Which one of a couple, say,
entered the room first? Their order of arrival was crucial to what I planned to demonstrate.
Some twenty-five people showed up, signed their names as requested, and took their seats.
I’d erected a horoscope for the time of that night’s presentation, an event chart I’d already drawn
on my large whiteboard on its easel. It’s no surprise to astrologers that events have birth charts:
we use them all the time.
In classes in Los Angeles I’ve especially enjoyed teaching techniques for using astrology at the
race track, then attending Santa Anita or Hollywood Park for a day with students and their
families to test the techniques on the ponies. (I have a lousy chart for gambling, so I only choose
days when I’m likeliest to do well.) Each post time establishes the birth chart for that race. It’s
easy enough to erect a horoscope for the first race then mentally adjust the Ascendant one degree
per four minutes of time as the day at the track wears on. To laymen, it never occurs that any
significant moment whose beginning can be pinpointed in time has a 'birth' horoscope that can be
studied for its future development.
I like to look at event charts before speaking for groups or teaching workshops to gain insights
into my focus for the group. That evening thirty-odd years ago, there were only one or two
students of astrology: the curious others were from all walks of life and all ages – twenties to
eighties.
I explained astrology in general – what it can and cannot do; what its archetypes and symbols
represent; how ephemerides are derived from the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena; what
the implications are from planetary positions and seasonal cycles synchronously correlating to
themes, situations and events in individuals’ lives.
Then the fun began.
Though it was the first time I’d tried this technique with a group, it never crossed my mind that it
wouldn’t work.
For the two students of astrology who were attending, I explained that this was the horoscope for
tonight’s talk as a whole. Amazingly, both I as the speaker (represented at the Tenth house of the
'authority' and 'leader') and all twenty-five attendees were shown in detail as individuals –
according to their order of arrival (the first to arrive being shown at the Fifth of 'students').
Using Derivative Houses, an horary technique also used in natal charts, I spent a minute or two
talking about situations or events in each of their recent pasts, their immediate presents, and their
probable futures . . . answering questions as they arose.
I promised I wouldn’t bring up anything embarrassing: I simply wanted to demonstrate how
astrology’s archetypes depict the ordering and significance of moments in time for each person
there; how collective experiences like that night’s gathering hold different importance and
meanings for each one present.
The results astounded them (and pleased me). Specifics like moves, trips, job changes, income
tax issues needing resolution, relatives and friends at a distance, people from the past coming
back into their lives, even general health matters in some cases . . . on and on came snapshots of
their lives at that moment.
Several contacted me within the next few weeks to remind me of something the chart had shown
that they knew nothing about – yet which had indeed later taken place exactly on astrology's
schedule. Several more booked appointments for readings.
It’s a stunt demonstration of astrology, true; but an impressive one illustrating with great impact
how astrology’s symbols and principles relate to real lives and situations. It’s not a
demonstration I often use with students in classes or at astrology conferences, since they already
know astrology works.
But it makes laypeople’s and skeptics’ jaws drop.
The Last Laugh
Brash comedian Joan Rivers (who, like many Geminis with or without plastic surgery,
maintains a youthful energy and outlook belying her 80 years) swears she is shy offstage and
barely speaks at parties unless she knows the other guests well. Hard to believe, given her take-
no-prisoners stage persona. But she’s never claimed to hold back once she really knows people.
Nor is 'shyness' the same as Jung’s introversion.
I’d not intended to analyze her horoscope, but let’s look at it.
Joan Rivers is rare among celebrities in publicly documenting intimate details of her life,
affording astrologers an unusual opportunity to correlate them with her horoscope. In most cases
of astrologers analyzing celebrities’ charts (which can only be verified by events that have been
published, often secondhand), such wealth of confirmed exterior and interior personal detail is
usually unavailable.
Then again, Geminis generally love to talk.
We know far more about Joan Rivers’ family background, upbringing, relationships and
psychology – from her own mouth – than we will ever know with certainty about Madonna or
Michael Jackson or European royalty or national leaders, thanks partly to a remarkable hour-
long televised session with Britain’s Dr. Pamela Stephenson; an equally revealing chat with
comedian Dawn French; and several hour-long appearances on Howard Stern’s show.
Rivers (see chart below) has four planets in Air (Thinking), three in Earth (Sensing), two in Fire
(Intuitive) and only Pluto in Water (Feeling), with her North Node. But Pluto and the Nodes
operate entirely collectively unless connected by aspects with personal planets. Rivers’ Moon
(her birth time has a Rodden Rating of A) inconjuncts Pluto in Cancer by five degrees, an uneasy
tie of almost perpetual dissatisfaction and adjustment (in this case with the emotional or Feeling
type) and an endless attempt to make things 'right'.
It’s common for people with dominant Thinking to have inferior Feeling. Rivers says her
Russian-born mother was not physically demonstrative with love or affection: she was raised in
an upper class Russian family by governesses who brought her in at five every afternoon for tea
with her own mother. Rivers’ Russian-born physician father, by contrast, was a warm, funny,
unpretentious man of the people who worked extremely hard to fulfill his wife’s upper class
aspirations (not always successfully: Rivers says her most humiliating childhood experiences
were having to hand tuition checks to her private school headmasters and ask them to hold the
check for a week or two).
What Rivers claims is her social 'shyness' around strangers is confirmed by her Saturn
(inferiority, rejection, discomfort, among other things) in social Aquarius in her Eleventh of
social groups – inconjunct her Sixth house (body image, psychology) Mars (ruling her Aries
Ascendant of her body and appearance) and also inconjunct her Sixth house Jupiter and Neptune
(wide, but I’d include them), reflecting her acute lifelong dislike of her body and appearance,
her liposuctions and plastic surgeries (Mars), and her obsession with work (Sixth).
Rivers' is another unmistakable illustration of the Sixth house depicting one’s psychological (and
physiological) self-integration throughout a lifetime.
"I was an actress from the time my eyes opened," Rivers says. "I knew at four that I wanted it. I
didn’t have any choice. All I ever wanted was to go into the theatre." Neptune is the classic
archetype of theatre and actors. Her observation that many performers are innately shy is true:
acting can be a means of compensating for and hiding all sorts of childhood ills, real or
perceived: humiliation, rejection, prejudice, shame, anger and rage. Rivers claims to be "angry
about everything," saying anger fuels her comedy.
Rivers’ 2013 book, "I Hate Everyone . . . Starting With Me," was notoriously (and
ridiculously) banned by Costco (Saturn in the Eleventh; public censure). With the comedian’s
typical exaggeration for effect and her genius for turning lemons into lemonade, Rivers delighted
in being banned. She staged a protest outside Costco, chaining herself to a shopping cart,
videotaped by her own crew – then carried her riotous ridicule of Costco onto The View, David
Letterman and Howard Stern, laughing all the way to the bank as her book instantly became a
best seller.
Mercury and its signs Gemini and Virgo are strong components of verbal and intellectual humor
in general. The best comedians, though they play the Fool, are enormously observant and
intelligent. Rivers’ Gemini humor is often quicker, lighter, sharper and fuller of astute and
surprising juxtapositions than most comedians'. Virgo’s humor (Rivers’ Sixth house cusp) is
different from Gemini’s. It can be scathingly sarcastic; verbally shredding pretense to ribbons
and slicing hypocrisy with surgical precision. Rivers’ Sixth house marks her as a potential
master of incisive critical observation from birth – and so she was, she says. "Even as a child I
was never ha-ha funny. There was always a wit." Her Virgo Sixth house also marks her as
relentlessly critical of herself, others, and life itself; incapable of ever feeling satisfied or
content for long.
"I grew up during the war. So I liked to pretend I was a spy. A fat ugly spy," she laughs.
Virgo on her Sixth cusp is the natural sign of analysis, filtering, categorizing,
compartmentalizing, breaking down and integrating. It rules those processes in the physical body
(digestion, intestines, etc.) and in the mind, on this house of psychological self-integration.
Rivers’ body- and image-issues are legendary. She is a tiny woman who was told she was
beautiful as an infant and small child, then started becoming fat – her word – (Jupiter of excess
in her Sixth of body-image) and unattractive around five or six, exactly on schedule with her
Moon-Pluto inconjunct separated by five and a half degrees. Indeed, in her interview with Dr.
Pamela Stephenson, it becomes clear that this was the defining transformative event of Rivers'
life from then on: her hated body.
"Instead of growing taller this way, I spread out this way." Her source of feeling unattractive
was her impression of reactions from those around her – society’s judgment (Saturn in collective
Aquarius). "I was never the pretty girl. Always the outsider. As I still am today." What's her
least favorite body part? "My thighs." (Moon in Sagittarius.) "They've never been my friend.
They're never getting a Christmas card."
Short, fat, ugly (Rivers’ word), Jewish, with Russian parents, an upwardly-mobile
undemonstrative mother who longed to regain the old-world class status her family enjoyed in
Russia (abandoned because of rising anti-Semitism), unpopular, excluded and an outsider,
Rivers was obsessed with and determined to go into the theatre. "I was like a race horse with
blinders." (Moon in Sagittarius of horses, as she herself describes her life: a competitive race.)
"It’s all I could see. So it didn’t matter that I wasn’t the pretty girl. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t
popular."
On stage, Rivers could say everything she had to restrain privately. Food became her means of
comfort and control early on. After her husband’s suicide she became bulimic for two years, ("I
loved it! I was down to a size two Valentino!") until her psychiatrist warned what it would do to
her heart, esophagus, voice and teeth.
Money was also an early obsession: "The one who has the money has the power. I always
wanted my own money."
Look at her chart. All that and more is echoed in Rivers’ relentlessly ambitious and determined
T-Square – her Sun-Moon opposition focused on her Sixth house Mars, Jupiter and Neptune.
Sun-Moon oppositions are notable indicators of parents who are stressed and at odds in
fundamental ways – at least to the child born under the opposition. It doesn’t necessarily mean
the parents had a 'bad' marriage: just a stressful one usually characterized by conflicting or
competing goals. Other planets may form trines or sextiles to the opposition that help mitigate the
stress. But children born with T-Squares to a Sun-Moon opposition typically cannot please one
parent without betraying the other. So they naturally learn, quite consciously and early, to play
roles.
In Rivers’ case, her father was a workaholic (as many physicians are). He was a genuine and
dedicated doctor whose patients often lacked money and paid with food or other items and
services. He had to work long hours to keep Rivers’ mother happy and surrounded with material
status about which he himself cared little. Mrs. Rivers (Molinsky) spent, spent, spent – and
arguments with her husband were always about money, says Rivers, whose Moon in Sagittarius
reflects the Fire sign impressionability of a mother-figure preoccupied with impressing others
(intellectually or materially). Rivers herself admittedly likes to 'live high.' She describes her
elegant New York apartment as, "Marie Antoinette would have lived like this if she'd had
money."
Rivers' father, because of his patients, was not always home for dinner and could be called
away on emergencies at a moment’s notice. So Joan and her sister Barbara learned to rely on
their mother, who demanded much from her girls in the way of achievements and 'comportment.'
(Rivers graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Barnard.)
Coupled with the natural ambition that accompanies T-Squares, and her show business
determination and compulsion to put on a bright face so the show could go on (an obsession
demanded by that perilous profession), Rivers also exhibits the T-Square’s compulsive desire to
work (or, in types who react negatively to that square, to suffer disabilities or dysfunctions that
excuse or prevent work). Virgo (natural sign of work and occupation) on her Sixth house cusp
(again of work and occupation as well as psychological self-integration) is reflected in Rivers’
trailblazing career as both comedian and merchant (her hugely successful line of jewelry and
accessories for QVC).
Something else is powerfully shown in Rivers’ Sixth house psychology of self-integration:
namely, Jupiter’s archetype of eternal hope, confidence, expectation of success, optimism and
growth. Jupiter’s T-Square to Rivers’ Sun-Moon opposition stresses and exaggerates Jupiter’s
central role in her psychology. It rules her outspoken, argumentative Moon in Sagittarius (also
highlighting the endless travel connected with her life and work). Nothing stops Rivers or holds
her back, except death. Even then, when it comes, she will have the last word, the last laugh!
You watch.
All of that, including her eating disorders, body and image issues, social inferiority, reactions to
anti-Semitism, her own brush with suicide – saved, she says, by her mangy Yorkie, Spike, who
jumped onto her lap and lay on top of the gun – and her birthright mission to succeed in show
business (a career notoriously full of rejection, whose anthem is to hide one’s personal
problems no matter what and to put on a happy face) – is evident in her Sixth house of
psychological self-integration.
"Humor gets you through everything. I have friends who are dying and I call them up and make
them laugh. That's my job. It's the reason I was put on earth."
Every tidbit of Rivers' life, happy and sad, big and small, feeds her trying to integrate the
components of her upbringing and psychology, including her hyper-critical Virgo assertion,
despite being one of highest-paid and longest-lasting comedians in history, "I haven’t
accomplished anything. I never got that play . . . never got the sitcom . . . I’ve accomplished very
little." What occupation does she list on her passport? "Writer." Not comedian? "That’s the
lowest form. ‘She’s a comic.’"
The seemingly cold pragmatism of Virgo on Rivers’ Sixth cusp, "What are you gonna do? You
either die or you move on," is life in a nutshell: a cut-and-dried utterly realistic philosophy of
self-integration. Plus humor. "Humor dilutes everything," she says. "All my friends are dropping
like flies," she laughs at 80. "But I’m in perfect health. That’s the joke!" That makes sense, since
she admits she goes to doctors "all the time."
As an astrologer, if you deeply study and analyze a person’s Sixth house, you can learn more of
the truth about their horoscope – how they view themselves and their lives; what they make (or
don’t) of themselves and their lives – than through any other single focus of their chart.
The sign on their Sixth house; any planet or planets in their Sixth; the ruler of their Sixth; and
aspects to those tell you everything. It’s the house of the mind-body connection and self-
integration.
When I first began practicing astrology in the 60s, the mind-body connection was fully
acknowledged by astrologers and metaphysicians, though less readily accepted by medical
scientists, who dismissed it as so much Napoleon Hill "Think and Grow Rich" pablum.
Every decade since has brought more research validating the astounding correlations between
one’s belief systems about oneself and about life – and physical and mental health including
prognoses of recovery from illnesses. Not surprisingly, then, the Sixth house depicts physical as
well as psychological states of ease or dis-ease and illnesses to which people are prone (as do
other elements in the chart). The house becomes a key factor in estimating reactions to crises,
general health, debilities and disabilities, length of life, self-destructive possibilities and type of
death.
We’ve already touched on another inherent property of the Sixth house that is essential for
understanding its role in psychological self-integration: its relation to the Ascendant.
The Sixth house forms an inconjunct angle (150°) with the First house. The inconjunct is said to
be a 'minor' stress aspect (compared to squares and oppositions) of constant adjustment and
readjustment, not dissimilar to properties shared with Virgo, the natural Sixth sign. But it's every
bit as significant and powerful as other 'stress' or 'hard' aspects.
Like Virgo and the inconjunct, the Sixth house of psychological self-integration is never
satisfied, complete, at ease or at rest. Its natural function is to constantly adjust, analyze,
compartmentalize, fix, judge, perfect, refine, solve and sort. But its deeper archetype is to serve.
Its real service – its duty – is self-integration. It is only when its archetypes are ignored or
operate unconsciously that their negative polarities serve to dis-integrate.
The Sixth house presents the archetypes naturally utilized by the Self to serve its optimal
integration and self-assessment, which are always being adjusted in ways large and small to
meet the endless stream of variables arising to confront it in everyday living, internally and
externally.
The Los Angeles Police Department coined its motto, "To Protect and to Serve" in 1955, but it’s
eternally appropriate for characterizing astrology’s Sixth house. Like any good servant, the Sixth
house functions to fully protect and serve the belief systems – negative and positive – of its
masters (all the other archetypes in the chart). Astrology’s overriding mission, again, is to make
people conscious of what they are and what they choose to do, by honestly and deeply exploring
their beliefs within Time and Space.
Beliefs may or may not be facts, though they give every appearance of being so. Through
conscious awareness, beliefs can be changed, altering the results one creates as one moves
through life (see "Using Degrees.")
The Sixth house of psychological self-integration by definition (its inconjunct angle to the First
house) is in a never-satisfied relationship to one’s First house persona, which in Jungian
psychology is the social mask we present to the world to create certain impressions – and often
to conceal our true natures.
Stress aspects to planetary archetypes in the already stressful Sixth house will obviously
contribute in rather specific ways to self dis-integration unless the corresponding beliefs are
made conscious and integrated (e.g. through astrology and psychotherapy). Thus mental and
physical disorders are often first located in this house. The Sixth house ruler, its placement and
aspects, further illuminate such conditions and offer greater detail regarding origins, externalized
expression and behavior, and treatment.
Simplistically, the sign on the Sixth house cusp is key both to self-integration (if its ruler and any
planets in the house are harmoniously aspected and consciously understood) or
self-disintegration (if inharmoniously aspected and unconscious or reactive).
The Sixth House and the Other
F ascinatingly, the Sixth house archetypes are also the Twelfth house archetypes of a spouse,
business partner, close friend, professional colleague, opponent or competitor (all archetypally
shown at the Seventh house) – as experienced through the Self.
What astrology suggests, and what's strikingly apparent in practice, is that people are
unconsciously drawn to their most direct and closest associations with others whose archetypes
of 'self-undoing' (Twelfth) are symbolized by the characteristics of the client’s Sixth house of
'self-integration' – from the client’s perspective and experience of those close associates.
In effect, "My Sixth house is your Twelfth house. And vice versa."
Idealistically and romantically, this offers the potential for finding true 'helpmeets' in love and
close personal and business or professional ties. (Professional counselors of all types are also
shown at the Seventh – including physicians, attorneys, astrologers, etc.) In ideal archetypal
relationships, one’s own self-integrative strengths can 'help' the other overcome their archetypes
of 'self-undoing,' and vice versa. This ideal requires mutual consciousness, acceptance, trust,
understanding, forgiveness and respect; and only approaches but never reaches perfection.
Expectations of perfection are unrealistic and impossible, given human nature and the realities of
everyone’s Sixth house of self-integration. There is always another flaw or fly in the ointment to
be eliminated, another itch to be scratched, another wound to be salved and bandaged, another
personal inadequacy to be acknowledged and healed.
We’ve seen, for instance, that Joan Rivers’ Sixth house of self-integration is based on her
obsession with work (Virgo, Mars), the theatre (Neptune), the expectation of overcoming all
obstacles (ever-optimistic Jupiter, though it’s Detrimented in worrisome, nit-picky, often self-
frustrating Virgo) – in T-Square (ambition, competitiveness, obstacles, losses, hardships) with
her Sun-Moon opposition (difficulty resolving inner anima-animus conflicts, reflected in her
Father-Mother experience) and issues with her body and appearance.
That same T-Square in a woman's chart can classically denote potentials for divorce as well as
difficulties or loss through pregnancy and childbirth. Rivers had a short-lived marriage and
divorce before her later marriage to Edgar. Though she wanted more children, Melissa is her
only child. Rivers underwent ectopic pregnancy and three miscarriages. Even in fertility and
childbirth, then, her hated (her word) body betrayed her in womanhood as it had (she believes)
since age five or six.
Her Sixth house planets are also inconjunct Saturn (ambition, professionalism, but also
depression, outsider status, isolation, separation, divorce, death) in the social and collective
archetype of Aquarius, in the social and collective Eleventh house.
Her Saturn placement is her husband’s Fifth house archetype by Derivative houses, starting with
her Seventh of her marriage partner. Eventually – without couples' therapy or fully conscious
mutual understanding and communication – she would feel that Edgar – or any man in a
marriage-like relationship with her – is ultimately unable to give her love on her terms, or to
love her. How could they? She’s always believed she’s fat, ugly, with a bad body: unlovable.
Her last relationship of nine years ("The love of my life") with an older, wealthy one-legged
war veteran – "A marvelous man" – ended when she discovered he "betrayed" her by seeing (but
not sleeping with) two other women for lunches, giving them expensive gifts and letting them use
his credit card. "I never spoke to him again" (perhaps Gemini's ultimate punishment).
It is beyond the scope of this book to go into details about suicidal indications in astrology. But
it’s been mentioned that Uranus (and Aquarius, its sign) is often prominent in suicides, as well
as Saturn (depression, obstruction, stoppage) and Mars (guns, anger, violence) and / or Neptune
(poisons, gases – carbon monoxide – or drug overdoses).
Rivers’ Sixth house workaholic theatrical obsession, which she consciously exploited,
maximized and developed into a high art form and lengthy precedent-setting career unique for
any woman in the history of comedy . . . becomes precisely the archetype in Edgar that she
ultimately recognized as "weak" and a "bad businessman" (her words) though she considered
him "very smart."
Edgar Rosenberg so alienated Fox that the network demanded Rivers dump him as producer of
her show. When she refused, Fox terminated her contract on the spot. "Tomorrow’s your last
night." She later said she regretted making that grand gesture; that Edgar should have bowed out
on his own initiative, since they both knew his behind-the-scenes behavior, not her on-air
performance or ratings, was the cause of the crisis with Fox.
Consciously or unconsciously, Rosenberg’s behavior destroyed his wife’s career for nearly
seven years afterward (a Saturn cycle familiar to astrologers). Consciously or unconsciously,
Rivers chose a husband (and a manger – Billy – and a business partner who took her company
public then absconded with the equivalent of $100 million – and a mentor, Johnny Carson – who
never spoke to her again after Fox gave her her own show, and a psychotherapist who ultimately
died of AIDS while Rivers was in his room – "I’m not equipped to handle that: he’s the
therapist, not me" – and "the love of my life") who all ultimately "betrayed" her.
All the qualities of her Sixth house that Rivers conscientiously labored to capitalize on through
hard work, continual refinement and improvement (including psychotherapy), ambition and
determination in a highly competitive profession . . . were exactly the qualities Edgar lacked but
feigned. Like all pretenders, his demands, stubborn self-importance (his wife was the talent and
the money maker, not Edgar, who invested her earnings badly and alienated network brass) and
inability to treat others professionally not only toppled him but Rivers too, who was forced to
fight for seven years to rebuild her career. Edgar’s response to the Fox debacle he created?
Debilitating depression, then suicide by pills. Rivers’ Sixth house is Edgar Rosenberg’s Twelfth
of 'self-undoing' and suicide, shown through Rivers’ horoscope.
"I’m still furious, twenty years later. I’ve never gotten over the anger. His suicide is not the
blanket that covers my life; I’m one of the luckiest women alive. I know that too. But when
people say, ‘Some day you’ll meet him again in heaven,' oh, NO I won’t. I’m not looking to see
him again. If he came back today, I'D kill him."
In the most basic parlance of astrology’s archetypes, the Fifth house symbolizes 'love given' and
the Eleventh represents 'love received.' It’s not that Rivers necessarily has trouble giving love to
audiences or others, with Leo on her Fifth: it’s that she has trouble receiving it, with Saturn in
her Eleventh. She admittedly loves her wit, her intelligence, her humor; but not the package they
come in.
Saturn in the Eleventh often unconsciously pushes love away in one form or another. People with
these configurations will only be drawn to long-term partners who ultimately don’t appear to or
actually cannot love them back, or who seem to or actually do betray them (from their point of
view, regardless of the others’ actual motives) thus vindicating and perpetuating their belief
systems about themselves. Potential partners capable of offering genuine love and stability are
likely to be viewed as dull, sexually uninteresting, not ambitious enough, the 'wrong' race or
whatever else it takes to reject their affections, however authentically offered.
Understanding and changing one’s belief systems, even with psychotherapy as in Rivers’ life, is
not quick or easy. But it is far from impossible. Perhaps there is a mode and process other than
astrology that makes one’s beliefs and archetypes and their origins and interactions during
specific cycles in Time and Space so graphically clear and conscious for individuals and their
therapists, but I’ve not found it.
Rivers was "a fat, ugly" outsider as a girl. But note how she's used all of it to "protect and to
serve" The Act; her comedy. "I couldn’t make comments about what they’re wearing or how they
look if I were really their friend. Friends don’t do that. So I’m in nobody’s circle. I’m never
invited to those wonderful dinners with Woody. I never get asked out by Jay. But I can’t be, and
do what I do." Her outsider status feeds and preserves her career, then. So does her anger.
"Anger fuels comedy."
As an astrologer for fifty years, I’m still astounded by the degree to which horoscopes so
accurately mirror the inner and outer psychological and physical realities of one’s chosen
partners and closest friends, much less oneself. It extends back to at least Plato and even farther,
the philosophical and metaphysical notion that we project reality; that "the stars are inside our
head" (See "Astrology Rising" in this series).
Yet it’s apparent to anyone who seriously and objectively studies astrology that the phenomenon
is true: from Joan Rivers’ husband’s suicide to my early client’s husband’s Hodgkin's
lymphoma.
No wonder such monumental efforts are expended to denounce and ridicule astrology: its
principles suggest staggering implications about the nature of Creation itself – of All That Is –
the ultimate archetype, after all. It is those existential implications, I think, that make acceptance
of astrology impossible for certain kinds of minds.
If we as individuals are somehow the same thing as – or even intimately related to – orbits of
the Earth and other planets around the Sun in our solar system; if inner and outer themes,
behaviors and events in human psychologies and physiologies are echoed in astronomy's
dynamic interstellar and mathematic relationships – "No! It cannot be!"
But it is.
Jungian Types and the Sixth Cusp
P sychological typology has profound influence on everything from career choices, body weight,
health, hair styles, clothing, recreational outlets, hobbies, cars, home décor, religious beliefs,
how we handle money, love, marriage, parenting, our philosophy of life and our world view.
The goal of Jungian typology (one goal, anyway) is to become conscious of our inherent
personality type and – recognizing it – honor it by living in harmony with it. That’s an essential
secret of happiness.
Alice (above) is a dominant Sensing Extravert with a shadow function of Thinking Introvert.
Her Libra-ruled Sixth house suggests her psychological self-integration is Thinking Extravert,
which might or might not constitute a true auxiliary function. It is ruled by people-pleasing
Venus in usually extraverted Aries but in the introverted Twelfth house. Those are two
indicators for extravert psychological self-integration (Cardinal Libra and Aries), one for
introvert (Twelfth House).
Alice’s Venus squares Mars (extravert) in Cancer (introvert). Her Mars (action, assertion,
anger, initiative) in emotional Cancer acts in highly self-protective and often unconscious ways
to surround itself with a fortress of home and family and tradition, always motivated by security
needs (material as well as psychological). That gives a total of three extravert indicators to two
introvert.
Her Venus sextiles Saturn (introvert) in malleable, adaptable dualistic Gemini (which,
chameleon-like, assumes the coloration of whatever touches it, or vice versa). That brings
Alice’s introvert-extravert total to an even three for both attitudes.
Her Venus trines Jupiter in Leo (extravert) in an angle (extravert). That’s five indicators for
extravert psychological self-integration, to three for introvert.
So Alice’s overall dominant function is Sensing Extravert but her psychological self-integration
type is Thinking Extravert. Her Shadow or inferior function and attitude is Thinking Introvert.
Astrology unmistakably, and in many ways as we've seen, shows Alice’s resistance to her
Thinking Introvert function. That’s borne out across her lifetime. Though she’s aware she has
"problems, like everybody," she has never sought counseling and dismisses the notion that she
needs it or that it might be helpful. Instead, she participates in book clubs, dream workshops
(sponsored by her church) and other Thinking Extravert activities that maintain her distance from
her Thinking Introvert shadow.
Alice’s psychological self-integration chart (with her Sixth at the Ascendant) strongly reinforces
her extravert attitude: everything is above the horizon. It goes even further. Her original Sixth
house Neptune appears in her Twelfh of her self-integration chart. Neptune’s archetypal promise
of self-integration through clarifying all the confusion (alcoholism, deceit, betrayal,
abandonment, rejection, concealed dysfunctions) into which she was born and conditioned to
believe are facts . . . pose such a danger that if she were to actually undergo attempted
individuation through Jungian analytical psychology she runs the real probability of initially
unleashing serious and perhaps terrifying psychological and / or physical illnesses, before
continuing on to healing and finally individuation. Her encounter with her Neptune archetype
would, of necessity, destroy every illusion about herself and her life. But 'illusions' and
appearances are the essence of her life, so where would that leave her? Understandably, she's
consistently shunned individuation.
It is likely that Alice intuitively and emotionally knows that, and at seventy would rather hold
onto the safe, contained structures she has built to now.
She presents an astrologer or psychologist with the all-too-common living example of the
unacknowledged shadow, now finally emerging – synchronously – as dementia and perhaps
stroke or other neurological conditions.
Had she chosen to undergo analysis at an earlier age (why would she, given her Jungian type and
a superficially happy marriage and material wealth?) she would have likely met with threats
from a terrified and enraged husband – unless he could have been persuaded to commit to joint
counseling – then found her marriage and security dissolving (Neptune) unless her husband also
got well with her – and been out on her own in the world with no education or training. She and
her husband were both Fixed signs: Taurus and Scorpio. Those do not preclude change, but do
make resistance to it inevitable.
To the degree that all of this can be seen so clearly in her chart, it offers valuable lessons to
astrologers about real lives and real people.
The first is that Hope cannot be undermined or shattered in clients’ lives. It is one thing to see or
realize ideals of individuation and health in clients’ charts, and to make value judgments about
those. It is another, and more important, to recognize the genuine threats to people’s lives that
can be posed by failing to explore the consequences of a client acting naively on an astrologer’s
well-meaning but equally naïve advice.
Astrologers are not required to say everything they see.
In Alice’s situation, were she genuinely interested (earlier in her life, perhaps) in recognizing
and solving perceived problems; and were she able to persuade her husband to take equal
interest in that mission; and were they able to commit to joint therapy with an effective
psychotherapist; and were that therapist to take advantage of the insights astrology could offer;
then such a course of action might have been invaluable and even prevented later conditions.
That is what is meant by "changing your future" or "changing your fate" through astrology.
But it’s essential to respect that all forms of self-expression and choices in living are valid, for
different people. Some individuals want to change their 'fates'. Many do not. Some are willing to
undergo individuation, including its risks. Others had rather live with the devils they know, and
risk the consequences later.
I have seen clients in situations similar to Alice’s who gave up materially comfortable former
lives (though that might not have been their conscious intent) to become whole individuals, who
ultimately became Walmart greeters. Happy Walmart greeters.
I’ve also worked with therapists who’ve used astrology’s insights to guide patients along the
process of individuation all the way through to healthy and happy self-realization and lives lived
in the kind of joy that mystics promise.
Signs on the Sixth House -- Elements and Qualities
The Type of psychological self-integration shown through astrology's Sixth house, recall, will
often not be the same as the dominant Jungian Type. It may prove to be an auxiliary or inferior
type or even the shadow. If one’s Sixth house type is the shadow, one’s psychological self-
integration is largely unconscious and at the mercy of repressed and often negative expressions,
without analysis and psychotherapy.
In analytical psychology, the shadow can mean the entire unconscious, or unconscious aspects of
personality which the ego doesn’t recognize. So the shadow is primarily negative because
people reject or don’t admit undesirable aspects of themselves. But the shadow can also hide
positive elements, especially in those with low self-esteem. Jung’s shadow contains everything
outside of consciousness, negative or positive.
"Everyone carries a shadow," Jung wrote. "The less it is embodied in the individual's conscious
life, the blacker and denser it is."
The shadow is likely to be projected outward, since it is irrational and instinctive. Thus people
project their personal inferiorities onto others in whom they then see moral deficiencies, e.g.,
rabidly anti-gay political or religious figures arrested for soliciting sex in airport men’s
restrooms or caught traveling on taxpayer-paid political junkets with rent boys.
Of unrecognized projections, Jung says, "The projection-making factor (the Shadow archetype)
then has a free hand and can realize its object – if it has one – or bring about some other situation
characteristic of its power."
Projections can handicap people by forming ever broader insulations of self-deceptive beliefs
between their egos and reality.
Tellingly, Jung notes that "in spite of its function as a reservoir for human darkness – or perhaps
because of this – the shadow is the seat of creativity." For some, then, "the dark side of his
being, his sinister shadow . . . represents the true spirit of life as against the arid scholar."
Jung also believed that most of the shadow evolves in an individual’s mind instead of being
transmitted through the collective unconscious. But other Jungians believe that the shadow may
also contain society's shadows, "fed by the neglected and repressed collective values."
In astrology, that may be specifically indicated by the Outer Planets' collective archetypes
playing roles in the shadow, especially if ruling or in the Fourth, Eighth or Twelfth house,
aspecting Saturn or the personal planets, or in the Sixth house with stressful aspects.
Saturn's position by sign, house and aspects is also often considered in astrology to be indicative
of one's shadow components.
Like consciousness, the shadow also contains layers according to Jung. At the top are meaningful
direct personal experiences that become unconscious through normal forgetfulness; changes of
attention from one focus to another; or repression. Below those layers are other archetypes that
comprise the inner containers for all experiences. The deepest layer of the shadow is what Jung
called the collective unconscious.
A Man
Though it’s enlightening to study horoscopes of public figures from popes to dictators to movie
stars and serial killers, it’s always seemed something of a misleading if instructive exercise in
astrology.
People who attain remarkable success and renown are not 'average' nor are they typical clients
most astrologers are likely to encounter in their practices.
The difficulty for students of astrology is that intimate details of such exceptional lives can
rarely be known with certainty, since they’re only available through secondhand reports or,
worse, tabloid gossip.
Even the birth times of such public figures are unlikely to be accurate because they’re often
secondhand. Lois Rodden, whom I was privileged to know, did astrology a unique and
tremendous service by compiling birth data on famous figures, diligently researching the records
(or lack of them) and applying her Rodden Rating to the data. "DD" for Dirty Data is common
for famous figures more often than not. Rodden established the standard for evaluating and
labeling birth times of well-known people for astrological study, which continues today.
Still further, all such horoscopes of famous or infamous public figures, even if their data is
obtained from a legitimate birth certificate, beg the question: "Has the chart been rectified?
How? By whom?" Alas, that essential piece of information is almost universally absent.
So the accuracy of horoscopes of public figures, despite their appeal for astrologers and
students, is questionable though still educational. Much of interest may nevertheless be learned
from studying horoscopes of exceptional people and correlating them with events that are
trustworthy in their lives, with those noted caveats.
Another serious risk inherent with studying horoscopes of public figures? Even though serial
killer Ted Bundy has a birth time rated AA by Lois Rodden (quoted to her from a birth
certificate), how many serial killers will an astrologer have as a client? Further, how tempting is
it for inexperienced astrologers to fear that some of the same indications in Ted Bundy's chart, if
found in kindly old Uncle Ernie's horoscope, create undue suspicion?
When teaching workshops, I prefer working with charts of my own clients and the students
themselves, who are present to provide instant verification or contradiction. I know how much
due diligence I’ve done to obtain clients’ accurate birth data and have rectified their birth times
by the method shown in the "The Practice of Astrology" in this series.
I don’t use horoscopes of my clients who are public figures in these books because it might be
too easy to study their birthdates, connect them with known facts under discussion here, and
determine who they are, violating professional ethics. Unless otherwise noted, all horoscopes
used for examples in these books are clients of whom you’ve never heard. 'Real' people, not
necessarily exceptional.
The following horoscope additionally illustrates a not uncommon problem: clients who for
whatever reason are unable to obtain birth certificates or a time of birth beyond 'mother’s
memory' (notoriously unreliable, unfortunately).
All I ever had for this man was his Solar Chart (with the Sun on the Ascendant) and his Natural
Wheel (beginning with zero degrees Aries on the First house cusp, followed by equal houses
with the successive signs on their cusps). Again see "The Practice of Astrology" in this series
for how everybody has four charts to be consulted.
Are Solar Charts valid for a given individual even though they apply to everyone born that day?
You bet. It cannot be repeated enough: "Just because something is valid for many doesn't make it
less valid for one."
Let’s call this man "Ralph."
Since this is a Solar Chart, Ralph’s Moon degree cannot be known except to note that it has to be
in Scorpio. It might be four degrees earlier (this Solar Chart is for 8 a.m.) or eight degrees later,
since the Moon travels an average of one degree every two hours. But the Moon's degree shown
here cannot be used with any certainty of accuracy – always something of paramount importance
when reading charts: how accurate is it and how do you know? It's still possible to gain a great
deal of valuable information from such charts, and even to use their degrees in solar arcs or with
transits to birth placements: but not the degrees of an unrectified Moon, Ascendant or
Midheaven, since those move so rapidly.
What is the first thing that draws your attention in Ralph’s chart? (There is no 'correct' answer:
just decide for yourself what first draws and holds your attention.)
When I first erected Ralph’s horoscope many years ago, I passingly noted his Moon, whatever
its degree, was in the notorious 'via combusta' (the first 15 degrees of Scorpio; some astrologers
include the last 15 degrees of Libra) but my eye was immediately drawn to his Sixth house and
his Mars-Uranus conjunction along with Saturn there. Those are powerful, even dangerous
configurations of make-or-break psychological self-integration – or lack of it. The wide
opposition from his Sun to Saturn and the Sun’s inconjunct to Mars-Uranus makes his Sixth
house unavoidably essential to understanding the man.
The 'via combusta' may seldom be used in contemporary astrology, but like many older rules it
retains validity if only because any planetary archetype in Scorpio always carries with it
potentials for obsession-compulsion, death-and-rebirth extremes, power and control issues
(especially through 'love' and sex, which in Scorpio are often replays of early familial power
dynamics in the attempt to resolve them), and the highest and lowest expressions of a planet's
archetype including potential criminality.
Any planet in Scorpio demands careful scrutiny and deep sensitivity on the astrologer’s part
when discussing these areas with clients. In unaware and underprivileged individuals –
'unevolved,' psychologically 'unconscious,' or lacking access to education or psychotherapy –
some of Scorpio’s destructive potentials almost inevitably manifest (along with some of the
sign’s positive potentials) to greater or lesser extent, causing enough pain or tragedy that they
eventually force the individual to confront their deepest and most problematic aspects of
upbringing, belief systems and self – or die trying. The potential for rebirthing and transforming
the self through conscious understanding and psychotherapeutic work is nonetheless always
present, whether ever realized or not.
Ralph’s Moon is in its Fall in Scorpio and his Venus in its Detriment there, with all the potential
extremes of difficult and harsh emotional, mental and psychological significance of those
placements. Both relate to women and to Ralph's anima.
The question should arise again at this point: Will everybody born on this date have similar
issues? (This is a Solar Chart, without the particularization of a precise birth time to distinguish
it from other births that day.) The short answer is yes.
It upsets many people to accept that thousands or hundreds of thousands share common traits
according to their birth day. Yet it’s easy to accept that entire generations and social groups are
similarly characterized and even taglined: 'The Roaring Twenties,' 'Flappers,' 'The Greatest
Generation,' 'The Lost Generation,' 'Renaissance Men,' 'Dark Ages,' 'Beats,' 'Hippies,'
'Gangstas,' 'Goths,' 'The Me Generation,' 'Generation X,' and so on. Yet numbers of people
sharing more or less identical planetary positions in Solar Charts are somehow (incorrectly)
thought to invalidate astrology.
It doesn’t: again because what is valid for many is also valid for one. Nor does that unthinking
criticism of astrology account for the constant reminder that with horoscopes context is
everything. One cannot effectively delineate horoscopes while failing to consider factors like
race, economic class, education, national and local culture, religion and the like. Whether and
how a client adapts to those external realities, easily or with difficulty, absolutely shows in
horoscopes.
For instance, anybody born with Sun conjunct Jupiter and square Uranus will have difficulty
conforming the Self to imposed religious traditions into which they are born and raised. The
result may be a life of hypocrisy (outwardly conforming to 'scripture' and 'tradition' while
battling the Self’s truths) or rebellion (asserting the Self over 'scripture' and 'tradition'). The
more exact the Sun’s degree is aligned with the Jupiter-Uranus square, the stronger and more
obvious the personally experienced conflicts.
The idealistic and metaphysical truth that human beings are all unique collides in practice with
the realization that we also have far more in common with each other than we like to pretend, or
than we are taught by rival tribal 'traditions.'
Astrologers are also often made uncomfortable by acknowledging that a horoscope that indicates
potentials for criminal behavior and violence can also be the horoscope of a decorated police
officer or military leader, for instance. Criminals and law enforcement or military personnel are
often flip sides of the same coin, engaged daily with the same psychological aptitudes, strengths
and weaknesses – indicated by the same planetary archetypes. One nation’s terrorist is another
nation’s protector and defender of freedom. Astrology by itself, absent personal interaction with
the client, cannot judge whether a given person will take the low or high road, or perhaps travel
both. Cops can be crooked. Crooks can perform good works.
Ralph’s Solar Sixth house alone is cause for immediate concern, as it is for anybody born on this
date. This Solar horoscope predisposes all who are born with it, within the contexts of their own
localities and cultures, to experience more or less extreme difficulties of various kinds in their
family upbringing and dynamics, vis à vis their local society and culture, whether metropolitan
or remote, including potentials for physical and psychological abuse and emotional hardship,
humiliation and violence, serious accidents, injuries and illness, for instance.
Mars, a personal archetype considered 'malefic' by classical astrologers, is itself 'besieged' (in
traditional astrological parlance 'between malefics') between Saturn and Uranus – two
collective archetypes (Saturn is both personal and collective or generational).
All three planets in Ralph's Sixth house of psychological self-integration are considered
'malefic' in classic astrology, though contemporary astrologers avoid the term. All three are
retrograde (see "Planets in the Sixth House," below). As explained below, retrograde planets
represent energies in the psyche whose initial expression is inner-directed rather than outer-
directed.
Whether or not these archetypes are considered 'malefics,' their potentials for chronically
repeated episodes of explosive violence, psychologically and physically, remain. Their
significance represents an aggregate archetype of assault on the Self and on psychological self-
integration, to greater or lesser degree – particularly through the father-figure, with whom these
archetypes are associated in astrology.
Three such archetypes, in Gemini, correspond to multiple assaults against the self from within
and without, because as shown below they also correspond to external circumstances, events,
and people.
Mars personalizes the generational and collective archetypes of Saturn and Uranus in Gemini
(one 'sign of violence' since antiquity), because Mars is a personal planet. So does Ralph’s Sun
(another personal archetype) through its opposition to Saturn and inconjunct to Mars-Uranus
(collective archetypes).
But this isn’t about everybody born with this Solar Chart. It’s about Ralph. Though this is 'only' a
Solar Chart it’s all I had to work with; plus mentally considering his planets in the Natural
Wheel and also turning this Sixth house to appear on the first cusp, in the Psychological Self-
Integration chart as we examined above with Alice.
Far from confusing a practiced astrologer, these multiple charts add confirming details and
enriching interpretive layers to a timed birth horoscope.
Context is everything. Ralph contacted me seeking business advice. Understandably, given his
Capricorn Sun, Scorpio Moon and that loaded Sixth house (of work, occupation and health as
well as psychological self-integration).
Gemini on his Sixth cusp is ruled by Mercury in Capricorn, which inconjuncts his Sixth house
Saturn, ruling both Mercury and his Sun. Add his Mars-Uranus Sixth house conjunction and all
those become potential indications of serious – even life-threatening – issues involving mental
and physical health. (Earth signs and Saturn are especially predisposed to physicalize mental
and psychological conditions.)
Since I couldn’t rectify his chart using the Midheaven (he didn’t know his birth time) I relied on
the planets’ degrees, except the Moon's (see "Using Degrees" in this series), to explore
developmental markers in Ralph's past.
He was impressed when I asked if he’d served in the Air Force. Clients expect to see a little
magic from astrology: it validates the astrologer and helps the real in-depth applications of
astrology to be taken seriously later – because I already knew from Ralph's Sixth house that
everything else depended on his psychological self-integration of those extremely potent and
potentially violent significators. I was also concerned for his health. But those issues would
wait.
"You’re kidding! I entered the Air Force right after college! I was a second lieutenant. It paid for
my education."
The astrology of Air Force service as opposed to Army, Navy or Marines? In Ralph’s case, as
always, there are several, even many indicators in charts. The 'art of synthesis' comes from
experience. I like seeing things at least three or preferably four or more ways in horoscopes.
Ralph’s self-worth – his Solar Chart Second house – is Aquarius, an Air sign of technology and
independence. Among the armed forces, the Air Force is unique (even if one is ultimately not a
pilot but serves to support the missions) because Air Force combat is experienced inside
cockpits controlling a technological marvel (a plane) that costs millions to develop and build,
with the highly trained pilot alone and – this is key – untethered from the earth; a free and
independent warrior in a way no other military troops are. (Tank battalions operate on the
ground; ships and submarines on or beneath the seas.) Naval aircraft and planes used by the
Marine Corps show the same indicators in horoscopes.
Ralph’s Sixth house of military service has another Air sign – Gemini – on its cusp and contains
the militaristic, technological, warfaring planets Mars, Saturn (order and discipline) and Uranus
(technology, air, freedom, independent spirit) all in the Air sign of the Twins. That’s five Air
sign indicators related to military service in a one- or two-second’s glance. Hence, "Air Force."
His Twelfth house (institutionalization of self whether in hospital, prison or the military) has
freedom-loving yet dogmatic and militant Sagittarius on its cusp. Its ruler Jupiter is in self-
expressive self-fulfilling Leo at Ralph's Ninth cusp and square Uranus (high-tech machines,
flight), pointing to his Air Force service as something of a zenith of achievement and self-
fulfillment in his life. Squares indicate ambition as well as challenges and the Air Force offered
a constructive and approved outlet for Ralph's aggressive and combative Sixth house energies.
Equally important, his Jupiter sextiles Saturn of authority and tradition. So despite run-ins with
other officers, as he admitted, he recalled those days with great pride.
There are more such indicators in his chart, but those are sufficient.
Ralph wasn't a pilot but a procurement officer at Kelly Air Force base and entered university
graduate business school while serving there, getting his master’s degree in Business
Administration and later transferring to Portsmouth AFB as base procurement officer until
separating from the service a few years later to enter civilian life as a banker, ultimately
becoming a bank treasurer and managing an investment portfolio of more than $6 billion across a
five-state area. A terrific Capricorn-Scorpio profession.
His Jupiter in Leo at the Ninth cusp also indicates higher education in business, financial and
investment executive fields (Capricorn Sun, opposite Saturn, Jupiter trine his Sun and sextile
Saturn) as well as scholarships or aid (through the military in his case), and even teaching (Ninth
of higher education). Later in life he taught at universities and online.
But the heart of Ralph's horoscope is his Sixth house. In discussions with him over subsequent
consultations, despite his initial reluctance to delve into his difficult family background as
prompted by astrology, it developed that Ralph’s father was violently abusive, physically and
psychologically: a raging alcoholic ne’r-do-well (who himself had an abusive ne’r-do-well
father) who married a woman with family money (Ralph’s mother) and vented his frustration and
rage on her and his three sons. Ralph’s father had been repeatedly jailed for various offenses
and bailed out by friends.
Ralph himself married young (his high school sweetheart) and they had one daughter. He had no
other children. Ralph was also an alcoholic and heavy smoker who physically and emotionally
abused and terrified his wife until she ultimately left him, taking their daughter.
Ralph subsequently married a much younger woman – for six weeks. She refused to put up with
his controlling abuse, violent temper and abrupt disappearances, and also left him.
Ralph finally moved in with a third woman. They never married (she also contacted me, much
later, when Ralph became ill with multiple myeloma, and said, "I think the reason we’ve lasted
seventeen years is because we never married. Both of us knew that either one of us could leave
any time we felt like it. It worked for us.")
Ralph finally died, at age 70, after a nearly three year battle with multiple myeloma.
Long estranged from his brothers (Gemini of siblings), one of them ignored Ralph's funeral
entirely. The other, mentally ill and on disability, showed up with his 'care' dog on a leash.
Ralph let it be known that neither his first wife nor his only daughter were to be allowed to sit
with the family at his funeral. He had successfully fought ever paying a dime in child support or
alimony – out of sheer spite: he made good money for awhile but legally fought his ex-wife and
daughter every step of the way, continuing to abuse them emotionally and financially long after
he’d left them. At the time of his death, he was still fighting a legal judgment against him for five
figures he owed his first wife.
Ralph's history of alienating employers left him unable to find work any longer. He later
obtained a part time job teaching at a small local college and online. He offended friends and
made drunken passes at their teenaged daughters. Eventually, Ralph stopped drinking and found
refuge in conservative Christian religion. (Jupiter on his Ninth of religion, again, sextile Saturn
of tradition and authority.)
Ralph’s legacy? At his funeral, I was told by an attorney friend, more than one attendee
remarked of Ralph: "He was a jerk till the end."
But not, apparently, to his partner of his final seventeen years, who saw him through serious
heart trouble (two bypasses; Gemini again), lung disease (Gemini), joint, knee and limb
problems (Gemini) from old football injuries, and finally multiple myeloma (Gemini, among
other indicators).
Increasing ill health (Mars-Saturn-Uranus in Gemini in his Sixth house configured with his Sun)
defined the last twenty years of Ralph's life. Whether mental and psychological or physical, it’s
debatable which came first. More probably, like Gemini’s Twins, they’d accompanied each
other all of Ralph’s life.
I relate Ralph’s case to make two points. One is what is possible with a Solar Chart (and
Natural Wheel) alone, with no time of birth. The other is the importance of the Sixth house
regarding psychological self-integration (or disintegration) and what astrologers call 'work,
occupation and health.'
Despite Ralph’s accomplishments, his resume was checkered. He offended, rejected and
alienated co-workers and employers throughout his life; ordered colleagues about, beyond his
actual authority; failed to show up for work (alcoholism); lost job after job; worked
intermittently and erratically; until finally no one would hire him.
He became his abusive alcoholic father, whom he hated. Ralph hated himself. He dismissed all
efforts at psychological and emotional help, at self-understanding and self-integration – instead
acting out all the unconscious negative archetypes of his Sixth house. "Born to Be Bad?" Ralph
certainly thought so. From grade school on he played the hypermacho Bad Boy.
Ralph’s chart has much in common with his generation’s iconic Bad Boy horoscope, James Dean
(AA Rodden Rating), including Moon in Scorpio, Jupiter square Uranus, and an even more
powerfully stressful Sixth house ruler (also Mercury).
Ralph is a classic pattern of abuse perpetuating itself generation after generation. He refused
psychotherapy despite being quite intelligent. He never sought or achieved self-integration. He
consistently embodied the negative polarities of his Sixth house archetypes and dichotomies: the
duality of Gemini, the violence of Mars, the repression and depression and controlling
tendencies of Saturn, the separatism, isolation and unpredictable erratic crazy-making cruelty,
instability and impulsivity of Uranus. Ultimately he became totally dependent on his common-
law wife (whose own needs for a weak and needy husband Ralph perfectly fulfilled).
It is facile to say that Ralph's psychological makeup 'caused' his illnesses. Yet astrologers (and
medical doctors) repeatedly observe the synchronicity in patients with, say, heart disease
(Ralph's two bypasses) and emotional / psychological problems related to giving and receiving
love (owning and controlling loved ones through money or abuse, which is actually a reflection
of deep insecurity, not power or strength).
His choices, beginning in grade school with his natural athletic abilities relentlessly pushed by
his father (the lawyer friend who told me about Ralph's funeral related harrowing abuse and
humiliation Ralph received from his father in front of team members in locker rooms after
football games); his lifelong smoking and alcoholism; his spouse abuse and treatment of women
(including his daughter and the teenaged daughters of friends); his alienation of employers and
co-workers resulting in unemployability and financial dependency; the accumulation of 70 years
of extreme, unresolved, unacknowledged and largely self-imposed stress, toxic relationships and
toxic substances, despite his intelligence; finally killed him.
Fate shown by astrology at birth?
Really?
Or a self-determination to refuse to seek help and slowly destroy himself?
Astrology shows probabilities, not inevitabilities.
Ralph’s problems originated with his violent abuse by his father, and his father’s father, ad
infinitum. Yet many people are equally abused and turn out all right (nearly always through
seeking professional help).
Refusing help, Ralph ultimately rejected himself – emotionally, physically and biologically –
exactly as his father had. His shining hours were his few years as a high school football star and
Air Force officer. But his unconscious, unacknowledged motivation and goals had always been
anger and vengeance, starting from age 5-7, his Uranus and Mars degrees; a need to control,
dominate and lash out at those he loved (to avoid their feared rejection and hurt and 'prove' his
power), holding the threat of divorce or leaving them or cutting them off or beating them up as
his trump cards.
Rage? That's Pluto, not Mars. Ralph's Pluto squares his Moon-Venus archetypes of women and
his anima, starting with his mother, who was powerless to protect him.
As it happened, everybody finally left Ralph, except his common-law wife, thus proving Ralph
'right' all along (despite his actually having pushed them away).
In the end, he finally found a woman to love, protect and save him, holding onto her through the
only means remaining him (in his own mind): by losing everything and repeatedly courting death
with increasingly serious illnesses.
Uranus’ archetype of separation is what astrologers often see in divorces (Uranus aspects are
reliable indicators for divorce potentials) as well as in births (the newborn 'separates' from the
mother and vice versa, as creative types or inventors give birth to new projects and ideas).
Negatively, in the Sixth house, Uranus’ archetype can indicate a divorce from the Self that
permits all manner of destructive behaviors, including suicide (directly or indirectly). Unable to
consistently or reliably care for the Self, such people find it impossible to genuinely love others,
though initially they often appear quite charming, magnetic, even 'sexy.'
Uranus by solar arc, when Ralph died, was in his Eighth house (one of the houses related to
death) exactly square his birth Venus; an aspect of release through love that Uranus had never
formed before in his life and never would again.
Was Ralph really "a jerk till the end?"
Maybe. But still a man.
Planets in the Sixth House
The deeper comparisons of astrology with Jungian analytical psychology become not so much
divergent as more intricate and shaded, particularly regarding Jungian Types and the realms of
the psyche astrology suggests lie beyond them.
Nor are astrological components directly analogous in every detail to Freud's concepts of Id,
Ego, Superego, Libido, et al., though certain rather obvious correlations exist.
The depiction of planetary archetypes in astrology (including, for archetypal symbology's sake,
the Sun and Moon, though astrologers are completely aware that those astronomical bodies are
not planets) is perhaps the most seemingly divergent of astrology's elements from traditional
psychoanalytical theories. Yet even here there is more in common with analytical psychology
than not.
The Sun in astrology is considered, rather obviously and too simplistically, as the 'Life Force.'
What does the term actually mean in practice?
The Sun's sign is shorthand for a seasonal relationship between Earth and the Sun. That is all it
is (but that's a lot). There is needless confusion and debate arising from precession of the
equinoxes (or 'general precession,' explained in full detail in "Planets, Signs, Houses: The
Difference"). Precession simply means that when we say somebody is born today with her Sun
in Aries, the Sun actually appears astronomically against the early degrees of the constellation
Pisces.
For those determined to view astrology as causative rather than synchronous, and for skeptics
and others with a superficial misunderstanding of astrology, precession either seems to demolish
astrology ("She's not really an Aries, she's a Pisces! Astrology is hooey!") or necessitates
adopting the convoluted interpretive gymnastics of sidereal rather than tropical astrology to
human lives.
Neither is correct nor necessary when it is understood that astrology is synchronous, not
causative; and astrology's signs are not the constellations, but have always been shorthand for
seasonal relationships between Earth and the Sun. If ancient astrologers believed the backdrop
of the zodiac caused phenomena, contemporary astrologers (for the most part) do not: they
accept synchronicity.
Spring is spring and winter is winter no matter the Sun's apparent constellational backdrop. The
annual solstices and equinoxes have always marked the same important seasonal points and
transitions on Earth honored by collective holidays and religious festivals, essential for planting,
harvesting, foretelling floods and droughts, etc.
The constellational background of the precession of the equinoxes does indeed provide
fascinating correlations with epochal collective archetypes like religions. Requiring 25,772
years to complete the circle, or an easy but inaccurate 'average' of 2,147 years per 'Age,' the
vernal equinox appearing against the constellation of Taurus corresponded to the Age of the
Bull, or the Golden Calf or Baal in the Bible. The Age of Aries was the Age of the Ram and the
rise of Judaism – which still blows the shofar or ram's horn during holy ceremonies. The Age of
Pisces inaugurated Christianity, whose symbol is the fishes, seen – with the other zodiacal signs
– in cathedrals' stained glass windows and on bumper stickers. The collective significance of
precession is culturally monumental and fascinating, but not part of this book.
Over millennia, astrologers have correlated and catalogued minute divisions of the heavens'
360º into sectors called decans (ten-degrees) and duads (two-and-a-half degrees), attributing
meanings even to those tiny seasonal variations in the Earth-Sun relationship.
None of these meanings is or can ever be true in the causative sense of physics, yet they are
evidently true in synchronicity with human lives described by experiential astrology.
The Sun's position in horoscopes describes the Earth-Sun relationship at an individual's moment
of birth, by sign and house. The house position of the Sun, Moon and planets is determined by
birth locality and Earth's rotational position at the birth moment.
It seems absurd and fantastic – or metaphysical and deeply meaningful – that Earth's orbital and
rotational position in relation to the solar system has any significance whatsoever in describing
an individual's psychology, belief systems, physical health, occupation, relationships and so on.
Yet astrological practice across several thousand years demonstrates far beyond mere random
chance that it does.
The Sun's archetype of the 'Life Force,' then, corresponds in various ways to psychological
concepts of conscious awareness, the Ego and the Superego – even the Id and facets of the
unconscious – and so on, depending on its position and aspects at birth.
Though many astrologers assign conscious awareness to the Sun and the unconscious to the
Moon, that isn't completely accurate and only begins to describe the picture of the psyche in
practice.
Let's dispense immediately with any attempt to consistently and specifically correlate all terms
in psychology's various branches with astrological archetypes. This is not a textbook and the
goal is a broader, rather than academic or pedantic examination of concepts.
Further, the discussions of planets in the Sixth house here are not intended to be cookbook
definitions but to prompt deeper consideration of these archetypes' roles in psychological self-
integration. People generally don't visit psychologists or astrologers when everything is
functioning optimally and perfectly in their lives. They seek insight and assistance when
confronted with problems and looking for solutions. The descriptions below necessarily focus
primarily on potential problems inherent in the placements.
Further still, it becomes essential to note the correlation between psychological self-integration
and work or vocation, in astrology and in life. So direct are the correspondences that one may
glean a remarkably accurate picture of anyone's psychology simply by asking what they do for a
living.
The answer to the party chit-chat question, "And what do you do?" reveals a tremendous amount
about an individual, especially when one is familiar with astrology's archetypes (planets, signs
and aspects) and their relationship to psychology. Even more is told by their response to, "How
do you like your job?"
Vocational guidance in psychology or astrology is a matter of identifying a person's optimal self-
integration of talents, personality, psychological Types, dominant function, inferior function,
shadow and so on . . . then assessing the various occupations and combinations of occupations
that fulfill those requirements, and finally constructing a plan for how to achieve those goals.
Astrology, because it affords the element of timing, is priceless for vocational guidance, in
skilled hands. Combined with an educated and trained psychologist, the two disciplines together
are unbeatable.
The Sun archetype has both conscious and unconscious dimensions, depending on its aspects.
Hard aspects to the Sun often correspond to inferior functions, repressions or projections
seeming to operate through The Other. A significant part of astrological (and psychological)
practice is to help clients consciously understand and reclaim their projections: to see
themselves and others more realistically. ("Why do I always choose partners who cheat on me?"
"Why can't I find a job I like?" "Why am I always struggling financially?")
The Sun in the Seventh house, for instance, can indicate a natural tendency to project elements of
the conscious and the unconscious outward onto others, and to almost wholly define the self
through other people's reactions and through things, for better or worse. That's a completely
different existence than the Sun in the First house, which may be so completely self-focused, for
better or worse, that it negatively becomes egomaniacal, utterly selfish, tyrannical and deluded –
or becomes a personification and exemplary expression of its Sun's noblest traits. Or, more
usually and depending on aspects, both.
Yet the Sun's archetype still fundamentally represents individual consciousness, awareness, life
force, vitality and the center which generates all else in a life. Without that star at the center of
our solar system, around which all other planetary archetypes orbit, life on Earth cannot exist.
As above, so below.
The Moon and planets may be considered solar ambassadors representing various sub-
archetypes of the Sun's and the psyche's primal life-giving, illuminating, motivating, goal-
directed energy.
Here astrology's planetary archetypes distinguish the psyche's various energies differently than
psychology. The Moon represents the psyche's archetype of emotional feeling, for instance.
Mercury, the psyche's archetype for thinking. Venus the archetype of valuing and balancing. Mars
the archetype for physicalizing. Saturn the archetype for ordering, structuring and conserving,
and so on.
Each planetary archetype represents a function of the psyche's energy expressing through various
externalized spheres of being and behaving (all symbolized by the houses) beginning with the
projection of our physical organs, limbs and bodies and extending outward into external
interactions, situations and events.
Astrology is essentially the study of the dynamic interactions of these pre-existing internal
archetypes as they express outwardly from and orbit our center, then. From those may be
extrapolated probable expressions and results which can be brought to conscious awareness,
analyzed, discussed, understood, supported or discouraged – recognized in ourselves and others
– but always honored and respected.
If the Sixth house is seen as the archetype of psychological self-integration, then planetary
energies symbolized by placements in the Sixth house emphasize those planets' significant
role(s) in achieving self-integration and all it implies.
Planets that appear to be in retrograde motion at birth are inherently introverted in terms of their
energy, if not in Jungian typology and functioning. By sign and house position, and aspects to
other planets, their retrograde archetypes will often be found to correspond to external situations
and people around the time of birth as well as throughout life, but their energy in the psyche is
genetic, innate and inward directed.
Even with an essentially outer-directed extraverted energy archetype like Mars, the retrograde
appearance at birth necessitates an initial inner-directed and subjective focus and filtering
before being outwardly expressed, according to the planet's house and sign position and aspects,
as well as affecting matters signified by the house(s) the retrograde planet rules.
The subtlety of the retrograde condition introduces another distinction between astrology and
analytical psychology: within even a dominant extraverted type or function, there will still exist
an initially introverted component to that energy's operation in the psyche.
Another condition which can exist in astrology that does not correlate exactly with analytical
psychology is called 'mutual reception.' It occurs when two planets are in each others' signs.
E.g., Venus in Scorpio and Mars in Libra. The closest psychology comes to recognizing the
phenomenon is 'compensation,' but it's not truly the same.
In mutual reception, each planet's archetypal energy may be read back in its own sign, retaining
its original degree. The planets' energies don't 'compensate' for each others' shortcomings, as
might types or functions in psychology: they simultaneously and continuously 'replace' each
other, consciously and unconsciously. Nor do they act like conjunctions in astrology, unless they
happen to occupy the same degree in their two respective signs at birth, in which case they act
jointly like two conjunctions in the two signs, interchangeably.
Mutual reception always indicates special flexibility, adaptability and a 'way out' of problems in
the psyche or the outer world, especially if made conscious through astrological analysis. They
permanently unite, in the psyche, the house matters they rule. Planets in mutual reception may be
part of the dominant type, inferior type, or shadow.
Two final conditions are also unique to astrology: the 'final dispositor' and mutual dispositors.
Sign rulerships establish the 'dispositor' (ruler) of the signs. The Moon in Aries is ruled by
(disposed of) by Mars. Rulerships or dispositors may be traced, chain-like, sometimes arriving
at a single planet (which by definition must be in its own sign, to dispose of or rule itself) that
ultimately rules (disposes of) all the others. It becomes the final dispositor in the chart and its
energy plays a dominant role in the psyche, wherever it falls in Jungian typology.
Mutual dispositors occur when one planetary group forms a ring of rulerships (none of which
need be in its own sign), while a separate group (one of which is in its own sign) forms another
ring.
My chart provides an example. Venus in Scorpio is ruled by Mars in Libra (they're in mutual
reception) and by Pluto in Leo (co-ruler of Scorpio). Venus in Scorpio rules the Sun, Mars,
Neptune and Midheaven in Libra (Venus' sign). Mars in Libra rules Moon in Aries (Mars' sign).
Moon in Aries rules Saturn in Cancer (Moon's sign). Saturn in Cancer rules the Capricorn
Ascendant. Those comprise one closed ring of archetypes.
Operating separately, unlinked to that ring: Mercury in Virgo rules Jupiter in Virgo and Uranus
in Gemini. But Mercury in Virgo is not a final dispositor. It has no connection to the other ring
by rulerships.
While those separate rings may function dissociatively, if neurotic, creating psychological
problems up to and including schizophrenia or multiple personality disorders, they normally do
not. They may still create problems in work and relationships, however, if individuals are
unaware of their existence and how they operate.
In my own case, I have always been consciously aware of a portion of my psyche that remains
objectively aware and analytical, no matter what is occurring externally, since adolescence. I
attribute it to my writer's mentality, in which a portion of the mind observes everything, no
matter how traumatic or emotionally exciting, from a detached perspective that thinks, "This will
make a great scene in my book or film!" That may not be usual, but is not in itself abnormal,
since not uncommon.
Later in life, at age 33 when I began working seriously with so-called higher consciousness (see
"Using Degrees"), I realized that area of consciousness was perfectly described by the
Mercury-Jupiter-Uranus ring. For me, it has not only been no problem, but the greatest inner
birthright I've discovered: my salvation, to give it just due.
If the differences between planetary archetypes of internal energies and the external
conditioning shown by sign archetypes on house cusps are kept in mind, what follows regarding
the Sun, Moon and planets in the Sixth house can also apply toward understanding external
conditioning toward the concepts of work, service and health shown by the sign on the Sixth
cusp. You won't confuse the two in interpretation if you keep those distinctions in mind.
Unless astrologers wish to limit discussion of the Sixth house to fairly superficial discussions of
'work, occupation and health,' it should be obvious that in-depth analysis of this house with
clients cannot be undertaken lightly. It immediately requires a great deal of study outside
astrology (e.g., psychology, vocational counseling, health and nutrition, alternative healing),
training and experience to avoid treading on sensitive subjects which the astrologer is
unprepared to handle effectively.
One way to remain true to astrology's depths even without much familiarity with subjects like
psychology (which really is essential for professional astrological practice) is to consistently
use conditional words like "suggests" " might," " perhaps," "maybe" and so on; and to ask
questions rather than issue flat statements.
"Your chart suggests you might have had some difficult and emotional experiences involving
your family, perhaps your parents or your father figure especially, around your age sixteen, that
have had a lasting impact on your attitudes about love and marriage. Does that make any sense
to you?"
As often as not, the client will share those events with the astrologer, who may then proceed.
"Can you see how that might set up certain unconscious expectations for what a romance or a
marriage means for you? Because it's natural to assume that all marriages are like your parents'
relationship, when that's all you've seen."
Or, "You know, many people with this configuration have problems with alcohol, or drugs, or
promiscuity. Is any of that true for you?"
As long as sensitive topics are phrased as questions, the client has a safe escape if they wish.
They can deny it – and they may be telling the truth. In the question about alcohol, drugs or
promiscuity, for instance, an astrologer might follow up their honest denial with another
question: "Then let me ask if you've ever found yourself involved with a romantic partner who
has problems with those things?"
If their answer is yes, then the door is open to explore how the phenomenon of projection works.
A blanket escape valve I always offer at the beginning of an initial session with clients, while
explaining what astrology is and is not, and my approach to it, is: "Some of what I see in your
chart may not make sense or even be accurate. I can be wrong. So don't hesitate to tell me if
something sounds off. It may be that it will make sense to you later on after you've thought about
it. Or it may simply be my mistake. There is nothing inevitable or fated about astrology."
In fact, there is, or can be: but there's no point spending an hour discussing the metaphysical
ramifications of that when the client wants to know when they will find a job and my goal is not
to tell fortunes but to illuminate predispositions, alternatives, choices and timing through
conscious awareness.
Identifying timing is one reason I continually ask questions about the more or less recent past as I
notice transiting aspects to natal positions: to 'test the grain' of a chart in Marc Edmund Jones'
phrase.
The event I ask about may have no direct bearing on the question at hand, but my question and the
client's response provide valuable information about how specifically they may or may not
respond to that particular transit. As often as not, such questions provoke a startled, "Why, yes!"
As noted in "The Practice of Astrology," such questions serve a twofold purpose: they let the
client know that I know what I'm doing, and they validate astrology for the client.
The Outer Planets offer another significant variance from analytical psychology. Though Jung
certainly understood the collective unconscious and individual psychology, and though all
archetypes are collective to greater or lesser degree, astrology makes a definite distinction
between Personal Planets and Outer Planets, with Saturn's archetype bridging the gap and
embodying elements of both.
Primarily, the distinction is derived from the time required for a planet to completely orbit the
Sun. Mercury and Venus are closer to the Sun and inside Earth's orbit. Mars, Jupiter, Saturn,
Uranus, Neptune and Pluto are farther from the Sun and outside Earth's orbit. The time spent by a
planet in one sign varies according to its position in the solar system and also to the phenomenon
of retrogradation, when its position from Earth's perspective appears to temporarily move
backward because Earth's orbit gets ahead of the planet's.
Thus Mercury, which takes about 116 days to complete its orbit, spends about one year to travel
through the signs, from Earth's perspective, because of apparent retrogradation. Saturn spends
about 2½ years in one sign; Uranus about 7 years per sign.
The further a planet is from the Sun, the longer its orbit and greater the length of time it spends in
one sign, thus becoming a generational planet since everybody born during, say, those seven
years will have Uranus in the same sign (though in different aspects to the other archetypes).
The synchronous qualities represented by planetary archetypes are increasingly collective the
farther from the Sun they are since they take much longer than Earth to complete their full orbit.
Analytical psychology has no means for saying this archetype is more collective than that
archetype. Only astrology proposes such a distinction – then extends the concept still further by
graphically depicting how the more personal archetypes (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars)
relate harmoniously or stressfully to the more collective archetypes (Uranus, Neptune and Pluto)
in the psyche.
Saturn is unique in astrology (and in its archetypal role in the psyche). It is both personal and
collective. Its transiting orbit through the signs and houses affords one of astrology's most
reliable timing methods for analyzing cycles of the psyche's awareness and growth and the
psyche's synchronicity with external situations and events.
When it comes to the collective planetary archetypes beyond the personal planets and Saturn's
orbit – the Outer Planets – and how those energies manifest in the psyche, it's essential to
consider whether or not they have direct ties to the Personal Planets and Points (the Sun, Moon,
Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ascendant and Midheaven) by close aspects.
If they don't, then Uranus, Neptune and Pluto may indeed represent areas of the psyche that
apparently operate as Fate; apart from an individual's conscious awareness or seeming control.
Another essential for understanding the Outer Planets in horoscopes is their role in generational
characteristics and an era's collective identity with social, political, religious, economic, artistic
and scientific evolution – and epidemics, pandemics and wars. The Dark Ages. The Plague. The
Inquisition. The Protestant Reformation. The Age of Enlightenment. The Industrial Revolution.
The Roaring Twenties. The Third Reich. World Wars. The Hippies.
Such collective experiences and movements throughout history affect everybody, but in different
ways. An individual may be directly impacted, or only peripherally involved. Some will lose
everything or die while others profit and conquer. Some escape through migration, others are
sent to concentration camps. Some see no way out (Fate) while others determine to find
solutions (Free Will) and survive.
Mundane Astrology concerns itself primarily with these collective synchronicities of the planets
and generational events on Earth. The subject is vast, fascinating, important and has yielded
entire books since astrology's earliest days – when rulers' horoscopes were virtually the
horoscopes of states and nations.
In individuals' horoscopes, the first assessment of Outer Planets concerns their aspects (or lack
of them) to Personal Planets and Points. Each of us embodies all the planetary archetypes in our
psyches, and another of astrology's immense gifts is its ability to make the collective archetypes
and their meanings in an individual's chart more conscious.
People who distinguish themselves and achieve 'stardom' in any field – including but hardly
limited to celebrities, politicians and world leaders in the arts, sciences or commerce – often
have horoscopes that clearly depict how they embody collective archetypes for their generation
and beyond. That's one reason studying horoscopes of contemporary and historic public figures
is worthwhile.
'Larger than life' personalities have links to the archetypes of Uranus, Neptune and Pluto that
elevate them far above humanity's average in achievements or notoriety, so that these collective
archetypes can be a blessing and / or curse depending on how they're understood (or not) and
utilized.
The Outer Planets represent collective rather than personal archetypes. If completely
unconscious, they are often difficult to integrate and express in fully positive ways, resulting in
unconscious negative behavior and outcomes. Those often take the form of difficulty or failure to
'fit in' in some significant with the group or one's peers.
When the Outer Planets are found in the Sixth house of psychological self-integration, there is
always the opportunity for the individual to become a representative of the planet(s)' collective
meaning for their generation and era, to greater or lesser degree. Even when such people never
travel farther than a hundred miles from their birth place, they're still known locally for being
'different' in ways that correspond to the Outer Planet they personify, for good or ill.
It is evident that those with Outer Planets in the Sixth live, to greater or lesser extent, in a
different reality and state of awareness than those who do not. Metaphysicians are fond of
talking about one's 'higher' consciousness and in fact those whose psychological self-integration
is dominated by Outer Planets' archetypes actually do perceive and respond to larger tangible
and intangible collective forces.
When unconscious or misunderstood, the Outer Planets' archetypes can pose real threats to
sanity. The stereotypes of the mad genius or tortured artist are rooted in a great truth if the self is
perceived to be at the mercy of vast impersonal thoughts and feelings that cannot be contained or
controlled, or which must be 'obeyed.'
Great actors, writers, painters, sculptors, scientists and philosophers can temporarily lose
themselves completely in their work without fear of literally losing themselves in insanity. They
understand and welcome the process and the 'higher' awareness involved.
For others, however – and this may be indicated by hard aspects to the Outer Planets from
Personal Planets – 'higher' collective consciousness can interfere with pragmatic mundane
realities shown by those Personal Planets in conflict – including daily relationships, the ability
to earn a living or take care of oneself. If alcohol or drugs are added to the mix, with time grave
dangers may result.
While alcohol and other drugs, natural and artificial, have been used since the dawn of time to
lower barriers of inhibitions and induce altered states of consciousness, perhaps the gateways
they open up are ultimately meant to be sought and explored without those substances, or their
sparing use. Addictions (Neptune) can pose real risks that eventually so contaminate the mind,
self, talents and body that that Neptune's metaphorical "death by drowning" becomes literal and
all is lost in delirium, madness and 'possession'. Yet the demons, like the gods, come from
within, not without.
For 50 years and over 40,000 clients, Robert Glasscock has been a Los Angeles-based
astrologer consulting with clients from 122 countries. For many years he authored over 250,000
words annually in "American Astrology Magazine’s" monthly and Annual Yearbook issues for
Publisher Joanne Clancy. His writings for newspaper columns, magazines and anthologies have
been cited by Liz Greene, among others.
Having begun to build his own clientele, Bob was invited to study with Linda Goodman in the
‘60s. Since she no longer saw clients (intently writing her second book), she referred her new
clients to Bob. He became an early member of Joan McEvers’ and Marion March’s "Aquarius
Workshops," lecturing there as well as national conferences and conventions. He’s been invited
to address a variety of forums from the Bank of Beverly Hills’ after-work seminars to medical
associations to political, professional, media, civic and religious organizations. Robert is an
adjunct instructor for Kepler College.
Online:
Site: http://rglasscock4sight.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RobertGlasscock
Other Titles:
The Practice of Astrology (22,566 words; $3.99) Complete analysis of everything you need
to know for professional astrology practice, including: What kind of astrologer are you? How to
work with every kind of client. You’re only as accurate as the chart: the Why and How of on-
the-spot rectification with clients. Everybody has four charts. A good astrologer is a good
psychologist. Your horoscope guides your professional practice. Advertising. Fees. Venues.
Success and Failure. Example charts and diagrams.
Astrology Rising (15,410 words; Free) Introduction to Robert Glasscock's series, "Notes on
Essentials of Astrology," based on lectures, classes, workshops, seminars in the United States,
international webinars, and 50 years of professional counseling with over 40,000 clients from
122 countries. The art, science, techniques and practical considerations of astrological practice
for amateur and professional astrologers. “After all these years of working as an astrologer,
it's unusual to find newly illuminating material to conceptualize and explore.” - Hadley
Fitzgerald
Using Degrees – A Lifetime at a Glance (28,854 words; $3.99) Everything you need to
read an entire lifetime is already right in front of you in horoscopes. You can refine readings
with additional techniques, but not for this book. Close your ephemeris and "make something
out of everything you see" – Robert Glasscock's keynote in classes, workshops and seminars.
Degrees – of planets, angular distances, their multiples and divisions – yield specific cycles and
ages for important themes and events, easily calculated in your head. The Developmental Arc.
Ten Techniques for Reading "A Lifetime in a Glance." Angles and Life Cycles. Decanates,
Duads and Turning Points. Birthdates of Significant Others in Your Life.
Coming Series Titles