Today is my Mars return at 24 Aries. I’d been expecting the usual – namely, irritation (I did have an eczema outbreak, but that was immediately after listening to five minutes I’ll never get back of DT’s vitriol, last night) and a sudden surge of willpower to get things done. Check! But I hadn’t expected feeling ‘lighter’, even goofily so.
‘Scarface’, NASA photo of Mars
Aries is of course one of the signs ruled by red planet (the other being Scorpio, traditionally), God of War/Death, so Mars is well-placed here, where he can express himself absolutely. Mars in Aries is direct, to the point, impatient, quick to rile and often fearless, sometimes stupidly so, head-butting in first. But what about when he begins to mellow with age?
Titus Pullo from the HBO series, ROME
Mars is a lone wolf, shunned by the other Greco-Roman gods (together with his sister, Eris/’discord’, currently conjunct at 25 Aries), except Venus, who finds him a turn-on, and Pluto, always glad to expand the underworld population. No stranger to pain, tragedy and suffering, Mars has waded through blood and acquired many a battle scar, thus is also a knowledgeable healer. Military men had to know how to stop the bleeding, remove an arrow, cauterize an amputation, prevent infection, use herbs, and possibly recite prayers for the dying. Bodies belong to Mars, and they are impermanent.
Fool/Comedy and Death/Tragedy, flip sides, Grimaud Tarot de Marseille
But Aries also happens to be the sign of the Fool – the wise Fool or ‘wise child.’ April Fool’s Day is in Aries season, after all, and this is the first sign of the zodiac, the infant. Aries never seem to grow up, yet they see with a clarity (clear vision = clairvoyance) that can be unsettling. Like all fire signs, they like attention and rarely hold a grudge. Perhaps Aries the warrior secretly knows laughter (+good bedside manner) is the best medicine, that humour, like Venus’ love, disarms, and the lone wolf sits beside the Fool on the hill to watch the Sun go down and howl at the Moon.
So this other side of Mars in Aries becomes apparent. Take a look at the opening image of the Sola Busca Fool/MATO card. I tend to avoid this deck precisely because it is so gory and feels heavily Martian/Saturnian. But how interesting that he has a crow (death) on his shoulder and walks through a barren wasteland, much like a battlefield. He wears red (Mars/blood) and plays a bagpipe, an instrument of war even before the Romans brought it to the British Isles. Hmm.
Sketch of a Roman phallic tintinnabulum, 1746
Mars is currently in the third/last decan of Aries. Depending on which decan system you use, the third is either ruled by Jupiter (most common), Venus or Gemini. Based on how it feels (trine my Sagi Moon), I have to go with the jovial one. A planet in late degrees exhibits an accumulative effect, similar to life experience, or lifetimes of experience. Perhaps this is the real meaning of the dog (or cat) who bites our Fool from behind, a past of aggression he is walking away from, un-attachment to old anger, pain and fear, as he heads into the great beyond. ~rb
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’.
John Singer Sargent, Hercules, 1921
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]
Drunk Heracles “urinating” (in fact trying to get it up, for erroneous intent).
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!”
Delphic oracle with her tripod, Hellenist bell krater detail (British Museum)
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).]
Gilt roundel with Alexander as Helios, 4th c BC
“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.
Vieville Tarot Sun and Charioteer, looking rather Alexander-ish
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.
Amulets found in Turkish excavation, dated from 7th-4th c BC
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.
Blue Saharan Sphinx wood icon by Roxanna Bikadoroff
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.
Heracles, in burning agony, throws himself on the fire
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.
In ye olde times, astronomers noted that the sky/stars moved one direction, while the planets moved against this backdrop, in the opposite direction. (They were called ‘wanderers’). Thus, symbolically, planets came to represent individual will/drives.
So when they go into apparent, backward motion – aka retrograde – they are in effect being forced back into the collective flow of the universe. Something to keep in mind during Mars’ retrograde (since Oct 30/22, until Jan 12/23 + shadow period for another 2 months) as this planet epitomizes personal will/drive. If you are born with any planets retrograde (most people are), you may find those planets are not as co-operative when ‘forced’ to conform, yet they do hold a special wisdom that seems to operate at a more natural pace than direct planets.
Mercury is the “god of retrogradation”, back and forth three times a year, for about three weeks+, and Pluto spends about half the year in reverse. Venus makes a star with her precise retrogrades…i.e, most of the planets are on a schedule. But Mars’ cycle, like the planet-god, can be a bit rough and unpredictable. And because Mars thrives on being adversarial, he’s especially effective when direct, i.e., going solo, against the grain, doing his own, ego independent thing and doing it fast.
In retrograde, not only is he being asked to slow down and march to a beat not emanating from his own drum, but…ever see a scorpion get ready to strike? Or a ram get ready to butt? They back up first – a sign you should get out of the way unless you are up for a battle to the death or at least a bad headache.
I think of Mercurial trickster Bugs Bunny as embodying the flow, the Wu Wei, while his continually confounded adversaries – Yosemite Sam (in particular), Marvin Martian or Elmer Fudd – as embodiments of frustrated Mars. Single-minded, angry child-men just can’t stop seeking his medicine.* (Is that why he says,”Nyeh, what’s up, Doc?”) Backfiring is such a great, Mars retrograde word.
In Gemini (Mercury’s sign), we may feel Mars’ frustration in all areas of communication. It can feel like Mercury Rx on steroids, when things go awry. Personal will and drive aren’t able to function as we’d like and patience must be exercised. If you have a strong, natal Mars, it can be especially frustrating, like driving with the breaks on or getting red lights at every intersection.
However, Mars requires this training in order to be a good samurai, in any area of life, it is actually good for his focusing ability. (Sagittarius Mars understands this, those with this placement will often be into Martial arts or some kind of channeled discipline for their inner warrior).
Who could forget this scene from Kurosawa’s epic film, The Seven Samurai? (Both Kurosawa and Mifune were Aries, btw). Which swordsman has mastered Mars retrograde?
*Astrologer Caroline Casey said that ‘the oppressor seeks the medicine of those they oppress’, am not sure whether she was quoting another.
It’s a Full Moon in Virgo, trining Uranus in Taurus. The Moon holds memories and Uranus can bring up very distant ones, from past lifetimes, but also future or parallel lives, since Uranus is not bound by Saturn timelines. Taurus is romantic, loves ancestry and Virgo loves to record and categorize. So let’s gaze into the crystal, Full Moon ball for clues to each sign’s lunar history…
Moon in Aries
Winged Athena holding a Helmet
Moon of mythic heroes and epic, battle sagas.
Yours is an ancient soul lineage of indigenous warriors or Amazons, thus combat is in your blood and likely your mother’s.
Patrick Henry’s immortal slogan, “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death” was first uttered on March 23, 1775, Aries season.
In Valhalla (Old Norse: Valhöll – “hall of the slain”), the Moon is always in Aries. Valkyries are your guardian angels.
You are nurtured by taking initiative, protecting life and being honored for your deeds.
Moon in Taurus
Crescent Moon, crescent horns of an Egyptian Bull
The Hathor Moon of milk and honey, that which the sacred cow jumped over. When people say ‘as old as the Moon’ they are talking about the Taurus Moon.
When the sensual, hoofed beauties of the first lunar calendars were painted in caves, to when the first Goddess temples were built, to the Golden Age of Egypt, you were there, worshiping and being worshiped. But your one, constant temple is nature itself.
You are nurtured by gentle breezes carrying the scent of Spring green, good food and sound sleeps.
Moon in Gemini
Medieval kinkiness
The Bardic Moon, the inconstant Moon of Romeo and Juliet and Courtly Love. By listening intently to the chattering of birds, you developed language, and later, writing, in order to describe the complexities of human emotion.
Like Cyrano, your words were often commissioned by enamored knights, to whom you generously offered delivery service. Your (in)famous dexterity was honed picking chastity belt locks by candlelight.
You are nurtured by your other half and by imagining things into being.
Moon in Cancer
Porcelain Crab
The Moon of the Great Mother Ocean, conductor of tidal movements and the cycles of rebirth.
Also the keeper of memories, hence Mnemosyne, mother of the 9 Muses.
Yours is a matriarchal cult that precedes temples, when Lucy walked the shores of Africa, nursing Monkey Jesus. You’ve never forgotten a single one of your infinite children (or loves) and hug them all to your breast, when full.
You are nurtured when cooking soul food for your tribe and by being in sync with the colour of your moods.
Moon in Leo
Roman Cybele
The Dramatic Moon, Cybele’s Moon.
In the Mountain Lion Mother’s temple, you took part in orgiastic rituals, as her half-wild attendants beat drums and danced, while ecstatic devotees offered their self-severed testicles.
You have never forgotten such scenes of devotion, and, while you don’t expect blood offerings these days, you’d still appreciate the occasional drum roll, upon entering a room, thank you very much.
You are nurtured by the self-confidence you feel when giving and receiving creative encouragement.
Moon in Virgo
Our Lady of Guadalupe
The Isis or Holy Mother Moon, Moon of witches, healers and midwives.
In the distant past, some of you were responsible for keeping records, including the cycles, names and many uses of plants, others, for libations and purification rituals. Later, in the age of ‘enlightenment’, the first group went on to study medicine, while the others chose a life of the cloth, continuing to serve the Holy Mother, under a different guise.
You still like pure food and being on both first and Latin name terms with the plants in your garden, where you are nurtured and grounded by making improvements…so your cats say.
The Manna Moon, and Moon of Temperance.
Your lineage introduced the concept of ‘fairness’ as well as the legalities around trade, marriage and other civilities, based on what was later understood as karma, or, in olde Egypt, the Weighing of Hearts.
Ever since your Greek days, you have been dividing the Gods and Goddesses of your psyche, assigning to each a chord or rhythm and trying different combinations, listening carefully for harmony and discord. You are nurtured by finding the harmonic ones, in all areas of life.
Moon in Scorpio
Hekate, by William Blake
Hekate’s Moon, Moon of sorcery and shamanic healing.
The casting and removal of hexes is in your soul lineage.
In your own illness, you flew to the land of the dead and back, thus were selected to preside over this transition – be it by returning there, entranced, to retrieve lost souls, preparing the dead, or guiding the deceased towards rebirth.
The elite of your tribe wrote the manuals (The Tibetan and Egyptian Books, for example), while those on the ground practiced midwifery or donned the anonymous, black hood. Residual, last words of the condemned still echo, occasionally, so these days you try to focus on the rebirth part.
Nocturnal animals are your familiars and deep, healing love, your nurturing tonic.
Moon in Sagittarius
Centaur Reading, by Odilon Redon
The Artemis-Diana Moon, former gypsy, nomad, traveler, with lifetimes of stories to draw from.
You are a semi-retired Sindbad who continues armchair time-traveling to communicate with yourself, in long ago and far away places.
Like Chiron, you are nurtured by nature, freedom and independence, as well as learning and seeking. “Don’t fence me in” is your motto, yet you ultimately seek that place to call home.
You forgive but you don’t forget, because why would you leave out any part your life’s novel ?
[My own lineage, Moon of my mother, both maternal grandparents, aunt and some of my cousins on her side, as well as my paternal grandfather and aunt!]
The Druid Moon or Pan Moon, the old, wise one, behind the scenes power mover, shaker, money maker, who knows the inner workings of the outer world and how to keep persona and personal separate.
Like your Stonehenge ancestors, you rarely, if ever, divulge your secrets, and distrust all sycophants or anyone offering a free lunch, for that matter.
Somewhere in your past, you were the scapegoat, and that fear still haunts your memory.
You are nurtured by the finer things in life and may have a dark or gallows sense of humour.
Moon in Aquarius
[artist?]The cosmic crystal (frozen fire) Moon, holding all the resonance codes of creation.
In your telepathic lineage, communication is equal between all lifeforms. You may be/have been one of the extra-terrestrials advancing our technology in preparation for the Aquarian Age.
You have emotions, it’s just that you find them too heavy for communicating through time and space and one can’t bend spoons with them. Also, because electricity travels faster and is more deadly in water, you are wary of electrocuting others should your emotions get the better of you.
You are nurtured by freeing minds.
The Mystic Moon, where imposed, grid time and other boundaries seem like drag nets.
Long ago, when the water dried up and left you in the middle of a desert, you began walking (or dancing) the mystical path, in bare feet and have never stopped.
Nurtured by that which glimmers, you understand we are living in an illusion, but most people don’t know how to and you can’t bear to watch them suffer. You are frequently late, since your clock is melting and crawling with ants, but the love you give more than makes up for it.
