Once upon a time, now long forgotten, that first human pondered their hand. How is it that I can imagine something, and my hand knows how to make it? How is it there are this many fingers? What can it mean? Hands must be magical. Talk to the Hand.
“Put your hand in mine, we will travel to another time…” ~Lucious Jackson,Gypsy
The Hamsa/Khamsa or hand of Fatima, like the Nazar (‘evil eye’) is a common and ancient protective amulet throughout the Mediterranean and Middle East.
Who was Fatima? She seems to have many incarnations…in Islam, she’s the daughter of the prophet Muhammad, five years old when her father began receiving revelations. In Catholicism she’s a Marian apparition, reported in Portugal by three shepherd children. In legend, she is sometimes a great warrior princess, other times, as in ‘Fatima the Spinner and the Tent‘, an artisan who’s accumulated crafting skills and ingenuity save her from one calamitous situation after another. This Sufi retelling of Greek folklore describes Fatima in her role as creatrix and teacher, of which the female hand symbol is perhaps most indicative. Lucky? Yes, because I learned how to make things and can show you how.
“A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist.”~ Louis Nizer
Thus we have the combined energies of crafty magician, Hermes-Mercury and beauty-loving Aphrodite-Venus, whose sacred number is five (symbol is the pentagram) and who is married to Vulcan, the craftsman who forges exquisite, metal creations. We conjure ideas with our imagination, but we manifest them with our hands, though perhaps less and less, these days, which is why, apparently we are getting dumber! Talk to the Hamsa!
Often the hands will solve a mystery that the intellect has struggled with in vain. ~ Carl Jung
Saturn in Pisces (March 7, in a 7 year) will mean different things to different people. Depending on where our illusions lie and our willingness to wake in or from the dream, Saturn can feel either harsh or liberating. Saturn is actually a liberator, though not often seen in this light. (Hence, its exaltation sign is Libra).
Sometimes it’s as simple as recognizing whether a dream is really worth the time anymore and/or if we’re ready to do the work to make it real. Other times, especially in Pisces, we have to go a bit deeper into our psyche.
One thing about Saturn in Pisces that has been resonating with me lately (and a constant, life challenge with this being my Saturn placement), is how it can give authoritative voice to those self-sabotaging mantras Pisces is so good at creating. Often these do originate with some authority figure, like a parent, school teacher or even early religious teachings. There may be ‘aha’ moments in life where we realize they were a) not true/except to the person who said it b) useful in order to grow by rebelling against them. [Sir Christopher Lee, Saturn on the ascendant, said the more discouragement he got – first from his mother, then people in the biz who said he was too tall, not British-looking enough, etc. – the more determined it made him to succeed in acting, and, that his epitaph should read ‘I showed them!’]
Or perhaps it’s more subtle…a 12th house type garbage dump of collected mantras all jumbled together. In Pisces, that Saturnian discernment and good judgement is important because this sign has much do with creativity and imagination, as well as faith, especially in ourselves. Where have we ‘imprisoned’ ourselves or ‘sentenced’ ourselves to never trying because we aren’t good enough/can’t make money from this/hadn’t a formal education in it/feel we are in a sibling’s shadow/will only make a fool of ourselves…?
Thinking back to my first Saturn return, it was when that book ‘The Artist’s Way‘ came out. I was living in New York, doing bootcamp as an illustrator, and heard the author being interviewed on NPR. She had some good tips on zeroing in on where that debilitating thought was seeded. When you do, the original, flippant comment should now be given the Donald Duck accent it deserves.
Personally I didn’t listen to grade school teachers who came up with gems like, “that’s not how you draw a tree!”, but l was armed with planets, whereas others may not have been. Being told I wrote “like Dickens” by an art school writing class teacher (ie, not avant-garde enough) was maybe slightly more damaging, although, tbh, I quite liked Dickens. For me, it was more the perpetual, continually reiterated belief (of individuals and Canadian society at large) that artists must struggle, art was no way to make a living, that sort of thing. Even later, when I felt free(er) of these straight-jackets, I would simply find new ones, courtesy of the astrologers, psychics and other intuitives I sought advice from and handed over my personal authority to. Pisces is so good at relinquishing power and its responsibility to its own needs!
In the TdM Tower card, the force that ruptures the prison tower and releases the two people is not a lightening bolt, but a feathery plume, which some say is actually coming out of rather than directed toward the structure. Note that the Tower/16 is 7 ‘steps’ from the Hermit/9. Seven is the number of wisdom, and this time it’s Grandmother wisdom. We can take heart in the fact that Saturn in Pisces is a lot more understanding and gentle than in Capricorn and Aquarius. This is a mutable sign, so it’s more of a water birth than by forceps or cesarian. It’s safe to come out of hiding, now.
I recommend astrologer Molly McCord’s Youtube videos on Saturn in Pisces 2023. She talks about this and much more, very insightful!
Since childhood, one of my main forms of ‘meditation’ has been rock and shell collecting. Particularly while walking where the water meets the earth, but even prior to my first trip to the ocean, finding fossils in our neighbourhood in Montreal. Below is the stone that started it all, acquired with developing Mercurial wiles, age 4 or 5. We kids came across it in my bully neighbour’s yard. This little Taurus claimed it, in her mind, but knew if even a smidgen of fascination was detected, ‘Eggy’ would have kept it, just to be cruel and I’d never see it again. So I feigned total disinterest. It worked (he wasn’t the science and nature type) and come dusk I was able to sneak outside in my pyjamas and rescue the treasure.
It wasn’t so much about the actual ‘collecting’ part – I never had any books on rocks/shells or cared about what sort they were – but connecting with nature and experiencing the thrill when it coughs up a little, personalized treasure. This can be as magical as finding ancient artifacts…because really, that’s what they are. Some are akin to planets. I’m sure any rockhounds reading this are nodding in agreement!
Nowadays I take a lot of photos, so I don’t have to keep the physical rocks, except for those extra special ones. My local beach in Vancouver, BC is rich with fossil driftwood from the ancient redwood forests. Sometimes they are tumbled to the point of not being recognizable as ever having been wood. Nature is the one true alchemist. These fossils live here, so if we take them home, we’re temporary caretakers, only. Shells, too, when no longer wanted, should be returned to the sea. However, there are occasions where it’s a special gift, a power stone.
Many people nowadays buy all kinds of gemstones for healing purposes. (Guilty as charged, my black tourmaline and rose quartz are never far from reach). But much of the time, these beautiful stones have been ripped from their wombs in a savage manner, blasted by dynamite and/or mined by oppressed workers. Not only can they still resonate the trauma, but it’s not a good idea to promote environmentally awful practices in the name of healing. Try to find ones that are ethical, just as you would with diamonds.
A perfectly ocean-tumbled black stone, discovered by you, is going to hold as much or more mojo than a piece of onyx or obsidian bought in a store and will likely be more ‘relaxed’. Gemstones and other stones are made powerful by their connection with you, it’s a relationship.
I’ve found stones or crystals in odd spots, possibly snatched by a crow or squirrel and hidden (I know they steal them from my own flower pots!). But that’s often the key, to not really be looking, to let them find you.
Menopause is the new “hot topic”, according to the CBC news.
I’m guessing my Pluto in Virgo peeps “opened the floodgates” (media’s words, not mine) of taboo removal, because if there’s one thing Pluto/Virgo understands, it’s the deep, psychological changes that are going on, together with the physical, as we enter opposite virginity, amirite, ladies? So, as we’ve now ‘crossed over’, let us X-gens pass down what we have learned to the next gens.
Menses and month both come from the same root (men also means moon, and there was even a cute, little moon-god named Men, see below). The Moon is our oldest time keeper, as we find depicted on the walls of Lascaux (this is a recent article about it, here I thought it was common knowledge) and elsewhere, because her cycles coincide with those of the female sex.
In the modern age of electricity, humans became out of sync with these natural cycles and the moods that go with them.
When a woman (or a man, for that matter) is not in touch with her lunar nature, or feels ashamed of it, the unexpressed Moon self is diverted to shadow, where it becomes an initiate of the Black Moon, Lilith – you know, like those secret tiki god bohemian black magic clubs that respectable members of society used to have in their basements. Her creative power, like that of Pluto, can turn destructive, self-sabotaging, in an attempt to kill off the false self. When this finally occurs with age, we stop giving a damn what others think, and Lilith becomes a staunch ally and a force to be reckoned with. (She’ll be leaving Cancer and entering Leo in a couple of days, so, ya).
Fun fact: ‘Hysteria’ and ‘hysterics’ were once thought to be caused by the uterus moving around through the body at night. (I think mine was actually doing this during perimenopause).
Grandmother Moon has been keeping time and observing all us babies since we were just amoebas on Earth’s watery womb, so if she could talk (and she does), oh the bedtime stories she could tell. This is especially true under the Cancer full Moon, currently opposite retrograde Mercury. The past is bound to resurface in some shape or form. So how does this relate to menopause?
The word itself means a ceasing (pause) of menses. Remember, the menstrual cycle is directly associated with time cycles, both inner and outer. Perimenopause can be even more difficult than menopause or post-menopause (note the lunar triad within the triad, there), because everything is getting de-programmed and re-adjusted to a new phase, a new kind of time…hormones surge and drop in ways that make Cancerian mood-swings seem like a toy see-saw. This reverse puberty onset can be downright terrifying (I personally experienced losing half my blood and requiring a transfusion). Maiden and mother phases grow smaller in the distance, as we cross the threshold into Hecate’s cold, lunar landscape. Here, the unconscious knows no solar age…in the soul, everything is fluid.
As beginner crones (root same as crow and crown), we must now become inwardly re-attuned with the Moon, as we feel the ravages of time on our bodies, and face the fact that the physical is temporal. We fear the body loss, because rational, scientific thinking tells us it is primarily our physical self that defines us (see previous Solar Heroes post), that it is the body that ‘has a soul’. But in fact, it is the eternal soul that has a body, or rather, bodies. Grandmother Moon is firm on this. She presides over the inner world like Sun does the outer. At night, we traverse her realm….but, how many of us at this stage find our sleeping patterns are all over the place? Might it mean that our inner Moon is now wide awake and roaming out of bounds? Or just that darned, roaming uterus?
Will leave you with those thoughts, for now. Stay tuned for more meno memos!
Jupiter is back in Aries, until May 16. This masculine, fiery combo embodies the mythology of the solar hero (Aries) on a mission from God (Jupiter) or the ‘superhero’. The Sun’s exaltation is in Aries and the Sun is also the ‘son’.
Weapon-wielding, demi-god sons who saved humanity by wiping the floor with fabulous creatureswere abundant in the ancient world (or at least abundantly immortalized), as they are, today – but one in particular stands out from all the others, for he wears the solar lion’s skin and performs twelve labours, just as the Sun and Jupiter themselves stay a day and a year, consecutively, in each zodiacal house. Sing along if you are old enough…
“Hercules, hero of song and story! Hercules, winner of ancient glory! Fighting for the right, fighting with his might; With the strength of ten, ordinary men! Hercules, people are safe when near him! Hercules, only the evil fear him! Softness in his eyes, iron in his thighs; Virtue in his heart, fire in every part of The Mighty Hercules!”
I was dismayed to learn that the ‘real’ Hercules never had a magic ring, ripped abs and a quiff, or a centaur sidekick who’s favourite expression was “Suffering Psyche!” But my childhood TV cartoon got one thing right, ‘Herc’ was the modern, macho superhero prototype:
“Heracles – or Hercules as he has been more popularly known ever since the Roman times – was the greatest of all Greek heroes, “one who surpassed all men of whom memory from the beginning of time has brought down an account.” A half-god of superhuman strength and violent passions, Heracles was the epitome of bravery and masculinity in the ancient world and the most notable champion of the Olympian order, which he staunchly protected from various chthonic monsters and earthly villains. Even though his short temper and lack of composure did cause both him and quite a few innocent mortals undeserved trouble, the magnitude of his labors was of such an order that it earned him the prize of immortality… Heracles is undoubtedly one of the most iconic figures in all of Greek mythology.” [source]
In the myth, Goddess Queen/evil stepmother Hera, angry that Zeus had sired him with another, who had the gall to name him ‘glory of Hera’, hated her step son and had marked him since birth. She sent two poisonous snakes (of course) to kill him in his cradle, but he strangled them with his bare, chubby little superbaby hands. Years later, grudge firm as ever, Hera served Heracles a potion to drive him temporarily insane and murder his own family. When the drugs wore off and he realized what he had done, remorseful Heracles sought spiritual advice from Apollo, who divined the gruelling tasks for his atonement. (Note that Apollo was a Sun god, who killed and usurped the Python). “In my defence, I was drunk and drugged!”
The myth of Herc’s 10 labours was likely extended to 12 – which became the official number – because the day and the solar year were also divided into 12 sections (Roman year had formerly been 10 months, also), each through which the Sun himself was ‘guided’ by a lady of the hora, as he traversed the sky in his chariot. Every man of importance in the ancient world, political or religious, was depicted wearing a halo of the Sun’s rays – essentially what a golden crown is, made with the Sun’s metal. Alexander the Great, who self-identified with various mythic/solar heroes, including Heracles, was frequently depicted as Helios. Our image of the haloed Buddha (‘enlightened one’) also comes courtesy of the imported, Greco-Roman Sun God. Of course it wasn’t only reserved for men, they just tended to have a bit more power and a bit less humility.
[Side note: Though I’m not of the ‘there are really 13 signs!’ camp, it’s interesting that, in order to make things solar and mathematically ‘even’, the 13th constellation touching the ecliptic, associated with the serpent (and 13 being lunar) had to be left out. We now know our Sun is itself serpentine in nature, it ‘sheds’ its skin via coronial mass ejections (CMEs).]
“All the seven planets have opened their gates.” – Goethe
Whilst reading up on Heracles and the horae, I took a rabbit hole into horary astrology. Turns out that on the first day of the first month of 2023, the first hour belongs to the Sun, as does the day (Sunday), meaning the entire year is going to be under solar influence. The Sun card comes up (19 reduces to 1), as does the Chariot, being that it’s a universal 7 year ( 2+0+2+3). The actual picture of the solar demi-god in his vehicle!
The 7th house cusp of the zodiac, opposite to the natal horizon or ascendant, is where the Sun-self begins its descent and marks the beginning of knowing thyself through others (Libra), which is a different kind of awakening.
Unlike Heracles, the Charioteer, previously initiated as a Lover (6, which some do see as ‘Hercules at the crossroads’, choosing between Vice and Virtue), is now tasked with keeping the solar and lunar sides of his own nature in Balance (8).
The fiery energy of Jupiter/Aries is boundless, until Saturn enters Pisces, March 7 and tempers the flame. Saturn specializes in labours and (karmic) atonement, and it’s entering the 12th sign, traditionally ruled by Jupiter. At best, Saturn/Pisces directs Jupiterian inspiration, so as to give form to visions and dreams, testing their weight and our faith, every step of the way. Are we just being given our tasks or is this the final push? Maybe both? (I have Saturn and Jupiter returns coming up this year, will let you know…).
There are 7 cycles of 3 (plus the Fool) in the Major Arcana, so each 4th card is also a new 1. So the Chariot, as the first card of the third triad,is also a1placement. All ‘1‘ placement cards have to do with the theme of change/transition/death/rebirth: 1–Magician, 4-Emperor, 7-Chariot, 10-Wheel, 13-Unnamed, 16-Tower, 19-Sun.
Being the number of traditional planets/planetary spheres, 7has long held sacred significance as a microcosm, by which the weeks and solar years are divided.
Horary astrology is also tied in with magic (using the energy of the planet at the appropriate time and/or creating talismans for positive outcome or amulets for protection). Before Solstice, I made some planet-themed bracelets. I hadn’t checked the planet hours at their creation, but when the Mars one proved conductive, I wondered whether I’d made it during a Mars hour or on a Tuesday. It remains to be seen whether Sun-ruled hours/days this year will have extra potency, but I intend to find out! In astrology, the Sun is generally seen as a bringer of happiness, unless terribly aspected. Similarly, we feel hope when the Sun shines, except during a drought or heat dome.
“Symbols are to the mind what tools are to the hand–
an extended application of its powers.”– Dion Fortune
To me, the Chariot card is emblematic of Tarot itself and of magic; forces within and without in accordance, the meeting of above and below, the completion of the first 7 steps.
Sphinxes, such as those who ‘pull’ the triumphal Chariot in some decks, were guardians of mysteries and the dead. As human-lion anthropomorphs, they are also symbolic of Aquarius/Leo (or, previously, Leo/Aquarius). We might view the pelt-clad Heracles as an initiate, a man not yet integrated with the solar lion in the spiritual sense. (He did actually become an initiate of the mysteries, but only in order to capture Cerberus). He is still an accursed bête, wearing the old skin but not yet the golden crown of the solar lion (the Nemean lion he flayed represents the constellation of Leo).
Of the Aquarius Age, astrologer Alan Oken, in the 1970s wrote,
“In spite of the utopian visions which this writer shared with millions of his peers in the 1960s, the Age of Aquarius will not be dominated by a suddenly transcended, spiritually oriented, love-sharing world population. Mankind has yet to work out the natural animal aggression which is so much a part of his nature…”
He goes on to say that (as we are seeing) the Aquarian Age will be dominated by ideological conflicts and, because of the energies available and potential for evolutionary advancement, self-awareness is a priority for people of the Aquarian Age if we are to properly channel these energies – physical and metaphysical – for the benefit of all.
In the end, after a kind of alchemical trial by pyre, brought about by a toxic balm his second wife inadvertently procured from a centaur (Sagittarius, the centaur sign ruled by Jupiter, is the transforming fire of the zodiacal triplicity), Hera and Zeus both agreed he’d suffered enough, and Herc was placed in the sky, as the constellation formerly identified with Gilgamesh. “Victory is here, raise a mighty cheer!”
Final thoughts…
As we ‘permanently’ enter the rational, masculine, high-tech age of the Titans (fixed air Aquarius, that is), with Pluto making its first ingress into this sign March 23, it’s important to keep sight of our higher Aquarius/Leo nature. The Sun is just one star in the heavens, but it represents the creative here and now, the full potential and expression (Leo) of our present lifetime. Meanwhile, Aquarius, sign of the starry heavens (hence astrology/astronomy), can open our minds to the distant past and future. Imagination is our personal conjuring tool. Through our art, wonder and creativity we are connected to the cosmos and the gods of our higher consciousness. In sync with these, there is no need for domination or force.