Reframing Aquarius: How the Cool and Detached Offer Us Love

I want to disclaim, before you jump in, that Love in this write-up and in my opinion, is not a feat of romantic heroism or distilled in ambiguous twin-flame theory. It is not a Drew Barrymore rom-com or an episode of The Bachelor. The Love I speak of here transcends the human trappings of performance, expectation, and desperation. The Love I speak of here, the Aquarius Love, is dispassionate, impersonal, and vastly encompassing. It is a validation of humanity, in all its forms. It is the simple act of non-judgement and fundamental acceptance, that allows the human spirit space to breathe and be. That is my Love.

I want to disclaim, also, that this write-up is about the archetype of Aquarius, what exists in the ether independent of human form. I write from my personal brand of Mercury conjunct Neptune magic. Therefore, this is not necessarily about your Aquarius Sun mother, or your Aquarius Venus crush, or about historical figures of Aquarian nature and lore. It is about energy. What human beings do with that energy sprouts a myriad of potential. Below is one of those potentials.

Like Capricorn and Christmas, Aquarius and Valentine’s Day seem to be fundamentally at odds. Where the serious Saturn-ruled earth sign seems incongruous to merrymaking, so does the Saturn-ruled air sign seem an out-of-place home for one of the more romantic days of the year. If pop Astrology had its way, Aquarius would remain inextricably associated with stereotypes of distance and detachment. While those descriptors are certainly relevant, they are not the end of the story.  You may find Taurus or Libra more fitting for Valentine’s Day, where the planet of love and romance is home. Or Pisces, where the planet of love and romance is exalted. Perhaps even Leo, where bouquets of red and pink balloons and Leo-ruled heart-shaped boxes of candy proudly boast and roar: love!  But in removing the superficial layers that surround the misunderstood Aquarius, we can come to understand why Cupid’s foray through this cerebral sign is no accident, and rather points us towards a more fitting, yet shocking, conclusion: that the Aquarius love is deep and endless, that the Aquarian heart throbs with an alien passion. If this shocks you, good. Aquarius can enjoy a revolution, a subversion, a brain-fuck. And so may this revolution set Aquarius free from misinformation, and set ablaze a different way of thinking. If you choose to want to think it, that is—Aquarius doesn’t care!

Where Taurus makes love physical, Libra makes love delightful and Pisces makes love dreamy or transcendent—Aquarius makes love ideal. In any working definition of the word romance, “idealized love” makes a literal or alluded appearance. It could be said, then, that from Aquarius, the idea of love is born, even if not practiced. And from ideas, all things sprout. This isn’t altogether odd. Aquarius deals with intellect and logic. And ruled by Saturn, striving towards lasting standards of excellence and fairness, signposts of anything ideal, lines up with what we know about the archetype. In potentializing love to an ideal place, the Aquarius Love comes with a bigger heart and bigger mission. As a human sign, Aquarius is not particular about love— who deserves it, who is giving it, why it went away, when it’ll come, how it looks, etc. With the power of scope and objectivity, Aquarius Love transcends physical limitations and instead becomes a universal concept under which all of humankind can shelter. And what could be more loving than the unrelenting acceptance Aquarius offers? And so where things aren’t sensual or material or comfortable enough for Taurus, where things aren’t refined or classic enough for Libra, or magical and hypnotizing enough for Pisces—Aquarius asks no price of admission, for love to them remains priceless, a public good to be doled out and shared not on pretense, but on brotherhood. It is Aquarius’s diligent eye on humankind and fraternity that expands the concept of love: come one, come all, and come as you are.

Saint Valentine of Rome, whose written account has come to serve as an historical template for the inception of Valentine’s Day, acted out these Aquarian ideals. He performed weddings for those forbidden to marry and when sent to jail, healed his jailer’s daughter of blindness. Afterwards and right before he was due to be executed, he sent a letter to the jailer’s daughter, and signed it, your Valentine. Saint Valentine of Rome was also said to give out paper hearts while ministering to people about God’s love (an impersonal Aquarius resonance, equality under an all-seeing eye), and a direct line can be drawn from this action to the Valentine’s Day decorations we see today. In this brief recounting, we meet two Aquarian archetypes, the former more recognizable than the latter: rebellion and compassion. A human thing to do despite the laws of the time, Saint Valentine, though perhaps not an Aquarius himself, extolled all of the best, yet often ignored tenets of the sign—the push towards equality, that all deserve to have their love legitimized and recognized, endless openness to the human condition, and the Love with a capital L that drives one to such measures. Questionable religious ideology aside, Valentine lived and died on one principal: that love, in all its myriad of incarnated forms, in all of its ceremonials, is for all. That the Sun was travailing through Aquarius as the framework for our modern conception of Valentine’s Day was underway can be no coincidence. All of Astrology bears correspondence to human events, even if they remain obscured or misunderstood for a time.

In Ancient Greece, Aquarius season coincided with Gamelion, the month of marriage. Two festivals occurred then, roughly translated to Sacred Wedding and Divine Wedding. These festivals celebrated the union of Zeus and Hera. In Roman texts, Hera was known as Juno, the goddess of marriage. If Juno sounds familiar, it is because an asteroid was named after her and has come to represent what is looked for in marriage and commitment. Modern natal chart calculators can show where Juno is in the sky for an individual, and can points towards the characteristics of a most suitable long-term partner. So what is it about Aquarius that corresponds to this cultivation of lasting love and marriage? Look to the element and modality: fixed air. Like any fixed sign, Aquarius holds on tight and when best expressed can exalt the virtues of fidelity. Of course, any ideal marriage or partnership needs this brand of loyalty and perseverance. Though much is said about the Aquarius need for space, even the Aquarius need for isolation, it cannot be overlooked that when in intimate partnership, Aquarius is one of the more steadfast partners, seeking not for frivolous union, but for deep connection. But the elemental nature of Aquarius sets it apart from the rest of the fixed family. It can be said that inherent to Aquarius symbolism are two life-sustaining elements: air, and water, as Aquarius is the water-bearer, often mistaken by novices as a water sign. Let me poetically pontificate: no living being can do without air or water. And so the Aquarian love is life-sustaining, from which all bounty and blessings grow, from which all beings benefit. It is the grandeur of this concept that gives Aquarius its aloof quality—their Love is so universal and welcoming that to the casual observer, it appears impersonal. But it is precisely the scope of Aquarius Love that makes it so palpable, an equally matched breadth and depth. Where fixed Taurus can become materialistic, fixed Leo can become self-aggrandizing, and fixed Scorpio can brood and become paranoid, no more fixed is Aquarius than the air it represents: ubiquitous, self-sustaining, stretched over distance yet deeply intimate, as oxygen and the connectivity of breath is shared by all. Co-dependency has long reigned as a romantic model of love, clinginess and self-dissolution perversely used as measures of affection. Psychology has now caught up and identified this proclivity as self-sabotaging and maladaptive. The Aquarius model of live and let live in relationship can appear threatening to the osmosis some wish to experience, or expect to experience. But it offers us a great chance at healthy love—as when air is squelched out of the equation, breathing becomes labored, and the life of the relationship is threatened. When inserted in mutually consented amounts, air allows for space, wherein two individuals (or more, *wink*) can fully stretch out into their identity, their lived experience, always feeling supported, but never entrapped. That is what Aquarius can offer—a Love given the air to float, fly, and flex.

In a sense, and as alluded to above, Aquarius love can be cerebral. But all things start first with thought. The belief of a thing creates the experience of a thing. So for Aquarius to hold you in their minds with love and affection is to tap into a potent creative energy, one that serves as the basis for all emotion and action. And because these ideas are fixed, good luck changing the Aquarian mind. Once loved, always loved. For Aquarius, the idea of love for a person, up close or from afar, is to render that love timeless and shapeless, graduated out the physical dimensions of gift-giving, face-time and attention, and into an ethereal experience. Aquarius is associated with personal freedom and independence. Aquarius gives Love the freedom to expand, to individuate, untethered by expectation or precedent.

Aquarius is traditionally ruled by Saturn. There is, then, a resonance with Aquarius and Saturn’s sign of exaltation—Libra. They trine one another, and share a common Saturnian DNA. Libra, in some ways, is the sign of marriage, one-on-one partnership, diplomacy, and fairness. Therefore, there is an invisible but what I find a personally noteworthy through-line and resonance connecting the idea of peaceful partnership to the Aquarius archetype. With this link, Saturn, and by virtue, Aquarius, can delight when relationships become stable and enduring, planting fertile ground for love to blossom perennially, even after the cold and dry winters.

In sum, I invite you to reconsider what you’ve heard about Aquarius. Leave room for the wondrous ways in which this sign offers us love, and hold space for a history that can corroborate it symbolically. Remember that as the water bearer, Aquarius has within it wells of untapped emotional capacity. Only, unlike any other sign, Aquarius shoulders these emotional conditions with impenetrable strength and understanding, turning them into nutrient, tilling human soil, watering it with compassion. In this alchemical process, all human experience, the sordid and splendid, meet their highest resolution in the arms of Aquarius. It is this level of belonging, of feeling seen and heard, that allows unbridled love to flow. It could be that the Aquarius tendency for distance and austerity is merely erected as a means of protection. That the love they feel for others must somehow be contained behind a wall, less it completely overwhelm them, less their waters drown the world. But do not be mistaken—beyond the ideas of coldness and detachment lies a soft, loving center. A sweetness disguised, but always alive.

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

-William Shakespeare

Re-imagining Mercury RX, and How it May Work out for You in Aquarius

I am not a Mercury retrograde doomsayer. Much of the narrative around this thrice annual retrogradation event is hyperbolic to me. So, much of what I write here will be informed by a cooler sensibility. Which is wonderfully evocative of Mercury’s nature in Aquarius anyway.

What are the facts?

Well, in 2021, Mercury will retrograde three times: once in Aquarius, once in Gemini, and once in Libra. A suite of air signs. The retrograde of note in this write up is the Aquarius one. Mercury has begun to slow down in the sky as it stations retrograde. This lead up to the actual event is called a shadow period, and much of what is happening now specific to Mercury in Aquarius topics in your chart have already reared and will come up again for resolution when Mercury stations direct and treads back over these same degrees. Mercury will officially retrograde on January 30th at 26 degrees of Aquarius and then station direct on February 20th at 11 degrees of Aquarius. Accounting for shadow periods, the bread on the retrograde sandwich at either side, Mercury technically began annoying us on January 15th and won’t stop until March 13th.  

Folks, this is no insignificant amount of time. When you factor in Mercury shadow, plus the retrograde, plus the fact that Mercury will do this two more times in 2021, it accounts for approximately 20 weeks of the year (or 6ish months) where Mercury things are subject to hiccups. Compound that over a lifetime.

All that to say, I think it’s time we find a way to function within Mercury retrograde periods with less histrionics. My reimagining of Mercury retrograde is less about avoidance of decision making, and more about intentional decision making. When Mercury turns within, we are also invited to turn within. I agree that the outward and functional Mercury retrograde advice is important. These are the things we have all heard and try to heed. Review! Cross your T’s and dot your I’s! Don’t call your ex! These are all great ways to either avoid or abate those damned miscommunications and crossed wires. But—life has to go on. People need to sign leases. People need to interview for jobs. People need to travel. People need to pay bills. Conversations will need to be had. Life won’t stop on Mercury’s dime. Plus, you probably shouldn’t be calling your ex at any point in the 365-day year! And believe you me, technological issues, miscommunications, and typos are equal opportunity culprits, abound even when Mercury is direct.

So, what is my more soulful take on productively working with this energy? Think of Mercury retrograde as a quieted planet, energy directed inward, the mind tending more to internal landscapes versus external ones. This sets Mercury retrograde up in a much more positive way than the “Mercury is asleep at the wheel” take, by implying that Mercury doesn’t just cease to function or be there, but that it continues to work as powerfully as ever. All that has changed is the arena. Low key, there is an unmanifested brilliance of Mercury turning within that allows us to imagine up some best laid plans that we can put to use later. It allows us to unfurl some of our more hidden thoughts, to ponder, ruminate, and make decisions with a full-body YES or NO, because we have accounted for our intentions, and the energy we bring into life’s forked roads. The big decisions, the triggering emails, the miscommunications will come. But instead of approaching it from an avoidance mindset, or even a fix-it-all mindset, what if there were more curiosity? What is Mercury perhaps inviting you to discover or unpack? What rigid conclusions or narratives or habits need a bit more thought? Mercury is the perennial student after all, seeking the why behind it all.  Turning a mindset of “why is this happening to me” into “what is this teaching me,” and co-creating in tandem with Mercury instead of in spite of Mercury.

Mercury turned inward can take what would normally be thinking and enhances it to critical thinking.

For example, a job comes along. A job you wanted! A contract needs to be signed.  You look at your apps and realize Mercury is RX. What now? Do you stall? Do you rescind your offer? Do you proceed with unfounded fear because an Allure article told you Mercury RX is a bad time to do anything and that you may actually die if you sign anything, casting shame upon your family for generations to come? Do you pour over the employment agreement like a madman, fixated on the smallest comma, starting what should be a joyous chapter of your life with anxiety? Or…can you take a deep breath, and look at Mercury RX instead as a time to remind yourself of the big why of what you’re doing? To become clear about why this job is the one, why you wanted it, why you are well-suited for it? May it also be a time to flex your patience, instead of avoiding miscommunication, becoming a student of miscommunication, letting it leave behind some tools for the next miscommunication that occurs? Maybe you actually do not want the job, you were going through the motions, or you made up your mind that you should want it. The fear Mercury RX stoked served as proxy for an intuitive nudge—that this path isn’t for you. The full-body NO.

Funnily, Mercury rules the lungs, the nervous system. And when Mercury retrogrades (and hell, even when it doesn’t) certain flare ups of situations that produce physical nervousness and constriction can serve as reminders to calm the hell down, to bring Mercury inward with a deep inhale that reorganizes your anxiety into a supple and confident mind. It slows down your thinking to mirror how Mercury has slowed down in the sky. Try it out.

And before I get off my soap box, I am a technically-minded Astrologer. I care about Mercury’s aspects, its placements, how to elect a time in the sky that is favorable for decision-making. Mercury archetypes do not change. Shit happens. I would also have the knee-jerk reaction of uh oh if I see someone planning a cross-country trek during the 3-week period Mercury is retrograde. My intention in writing this (ha) is that we don’t have to stop at that uh-oh.

Here are some short blurbs about how Mercury RX may manifest for you, and the intentionality that may be behind its lessons. Even if things just suck full stop, no spiritual insight needed, learning to live with the suck and armor your mind for dealing with such things is more appropriate of a lesson than trying to avoid it, and the frenetic energy that contributes to the mismanagement of it.

Lastly, keep in mind that Mercury in Aquarius is the cool operator, functioning with an intensity of logic, a mind primed more towards dealing with things on a conceptual or abstract level first before bringing it down into workable reality. So, engaging with this time period of potential mishaps from a cool, distant, innovative and objective mind will act as medicine.   

Aries Rising, 11H: Gossip, backstabbers, he said-she said, subtweeting. When Mercury retrogrades in this social house, the places where we expand into community of like-minded folks can feel like a subplot of Mean Girls. There is something tenuous and stressful about the places where we could once share of ourselves freely, only to have that sharing be misinterpreted or judged. You may change your mind, become aware of group think, dissolve your place in groups whose political or societal leanings no longer support you. Mercury RX here is all about peering past the drama, and letting it inform where your values have fallen out of step with your friends and networks, and to get started on finding the tribe where those values are respected. It can also reveal where our standing in society is, and whether or not the alliances you have relied on are to be brought further on the journey. Where we feel unpopular, or shunned, or like we have one leg to stand on, become opportunities to carve out your true voice, to scream into what looks like the void, until someone screams back.  

Taurus Rising, 10H: Your reputation on the world stage feels to be fluctuating. One moment you are managing others and the next your performance is under scrutiny. Where you once felt on top of the world, now you see the world receding from view. Boss and authority figures appear on shaky ground. Your ability to take charge and lead, to co-pilot your own destiny, to work well within professional frameworks becomes subject to random diversions. People who once supported your place on the world stage—clients, bosses, collaborators, family—fall back on their word or cease to show up as readily. This is a time to be intentional about the plans you have for yourself, the progress you have made so far, and if the path you are on will lead to a satisfactory result. Mercury RX here may see you thinking more critically about your public image—where it may be time to step down, turn around, or choose a more stratifying path altogether.   

Gemini Rising, 9H: You might not know what you think you know! Mercury RX here is like the professor who, in frustration, throws the papers on her desk out into the room, a confetti of information now spread about, needing to be put back together. This can be a test of professional character, a test of your faith, a test of how to best use your education and specialized skills to advance in life. Like with Cancer below, the sage advice of double and triple checking your itineraries fits literally. But the metaphorical ways we invest in itineraries that we hope will land us at an ideal destination—university, belief systems, professional certifications—also matters. Mercury may frustrate your implied wisdom and belief in self, but like the professor above, intentionally putting back together the reams of information you have earned and want to share makes the message come across with far more agency.

Cancer Rising, 8H: The contract giveth and the contract taketh away. More so than any other Mercury RX transit, the sage old advice to double and triple check what you are getting yourself into matters. Like my example above, let the trepidation it causes also invite you to think a bit more about why you want to align yourself and your assets in an irrevocable way with a person, an entity, a product. Think about the ramifications of that debt obligation, or where you overextend and share yourself with others in equally consequential ways. Get smart about literal payment plans, how they are too rigid and could use some revision. Mercury RX here, like the 4th house, can also introduce us to the deeper recesses of our minds, the things that go bump in the night. It allows a reflective lens that provides profound clarity about your human condition.

Leo Rising, 7H: Hell is other people, huh? The Mercury brand of hell is less hellish, but still equally frustrating in terms of feeling on equal footing with someone else or being able to communicate ourselves into and out of and within relationships with ease. So, when Mercury retrogrades here, we, too, can descend into Hades of our own relationships: spats, disagreements, a clash of beliefs or ideas about the relationship. If you are able to ignore the impulse to tell a certain someone about themselves, as devastating and dashing as your take may be, Mercury RX can teach you wise and steadied conflict resolution, how to come to the table with people of different opinions and break bread, how to reflect before you raise the sword of fighting words. It may also introduce you to a line in the stand, a word that took it too far, opinions that just aren’t simpatico, that allows you to emerge with firmer boundaries.

Virgo Rising, 6H: There can be stall with getting a project done, finding the health advice or products that you need, or being able to commit to or continue a routine. Or those routines could use some dusting off—as could your desk, your refrigerator, your bookshelves.…. Mercury RX here can get to work with you (literally) by identifying the little nits that need ironing out, by organizing your organizational skills. It is a time to take inventory: of your schedules, your health, how you serve the world and yourself. Did you really need that gym membership? Or…would that gym membership help keep you more accountable? It is only through these nagging day-to-day hiccups that we become aware of how much more smoothly our machines could function, and how an intentional purification of the dusty bits serves our happiness in the long run.

Libra Rising, 5H: Those creative yearnings can feel stifled during this time. Projects, pieces, recipes, prose you wish to unveil to the world meet resistance, in the form of an inattentive mind, or an unconfident one. Mercury RX here can be about turning within and having a chat with your inner child, and reconnecting with those thoughts and feelings that make you feel young.  In any creative endeavor, becoming intentional about your intended message, the piece of your soul that will involve itself in that message, makes this period fertile for more authentic works. You bring more of yourself out when you allow Mercury to0 discover more of what is being kept within.

Scorpio Rising, 4H: Roommate agreements gone awry, disagreements with your family, stale décor, a confusing line of legalese in your lease or mortgage contracts that stifle the enjoyment of your nest, the leaky faucet. Your living arrangements, your family structures, the foundations that support you require some actual mental fortitude now. Mercury RX here, while literally manifesting within the universe of the above-mentioned issues, can be an invitation to sort out and sort through the ways your house isn’t actually a home. At the bottom of your chart, Mercury RX sees you going deep within, perhaps uncovering gnarlier familial issues, the roots you thought were there to stabilize you but that actually suffocate you. Becoming quiet to discover the disquiet. In this closer felt chaos, you can clean house, and emerge with a more supportive base.

Sagittarius Rising, 3H: Miscommunications in the house of communication, perception, and habitual thought. This is where Mercury RX can appear to wreak the most apparent havoc, but also where its lessons of pause provide some sublime neuroplasticity. This energy comes in to silence words that don’t need to be said, thoughts that are stale, learning that needs to be reengaged, lies that masquerade as truth. Maybe even a voracious energy to say what needs to be said. Going within here helps us to silence the chatter from the daily players in our lives, and selectively choose with whom to share ideas, when, and why. Movements in your habitat of choice, in your vessel of choice, may feel encumbered, broken, but invite you to savor the scenic routes, to find progress in what is slow, and reinvent new ways of movement that will open the highways of your life.

Capricorn Rising, 2H: Hiccups in your pocketbook, expenses that come out of nowhere, a need to withdraw more than more than normal. Spending on things not in your best interest, or garden-variety review of things that do or do not bring value. An invitation to become more financially literate, and to move currency in ways that intentionally support your well-being. Using momentary lags in funds to become clearer about their use and worth. Mercury RX here can also have you retooling your apparent worth, your confidence, by introducing you to situations that mirror your lack of self-sufficiency.

Aquarius Rising, 1H: Mishaps that serve to undermine how you communicate your identity. Saying things that make you come across poorly, or that don’t mesh with your authentic self. Having other’s thoughts and perceptions of you be wildly incorrect or misleading. Standing by a controversial idea/belief. Mercury RX for you is about pausing to ask yourself: which ideas about myself are worth the conviction, are worth communicating, and how can I steady myself against naysayers? What opinions do I carry of myself or of my path that I can let go versus hold onto?

Pisces Rising, 12H: Quiet your mind, grasshopper. All the answers are within you. Mercury retrograde is digging deeper into this unconscious sector of your chart, perhaps dredging up private drama, psychic issues and entanglements, but also what is called that small, still voice underneath it all. It feels frustrating that, at this time, the world has no answers to give you. And that the part of yourself that does have the answers is obscured. Be intentional about sitting in literal silence, not judging what comes up, in using metaphysical tools like singing bowls, tarot, meditation, whatever… to find a voice until yours returns. Sometimes, Mercury retrograde here can also grant you the fortitude to carve out necessary isolation for a creative or research project, or otherwise make it easier to turn down the volume of life for a moment.

The Astrology of a Doomed Event: NASA's Challenger Disaster

Taking a break from public figures and focusing instead on the natal chart of an event. It's also a subtle shout out for electional Astrology, or the intentional planning of an event under the most favorable cosmic sky you can find, within limit. (Please note: I don't think Challenger could have been saved by favorable Astrology. If you know anything about the lead up to the disaster, it was human error after human error, miscommunications abound, etc.)

The fascinating thing about this event is that NASA launches are kept record of in a rigorous way, meaning that the chart of the Challenger disaster is derived from official record. So, we can look upon the chart with a tremendous amount of credibility. There is also an official record of the "birth time" of the Challenger vessel, so we can compare the natal chart of the ship to the chart of the event. Here are some tidbits of note.

First, the natal chart of the Challenger (whole signs):

• Leo ASC with the Sun in Aries in the 9th house. If you watch the new Netflix documentary on the subject, there was a lot of fanfare around this Challenger ship, its enhanced capacity to do more and carry more into space. But, Challenger came with a lot of firsts: the first woman, the first African-American, the first Asian-American, and the first ordinary citizen were part of its crew. This is the pioneering nature of Aries placed in the high-minded 9th house. The ship and its crew, its mission, attracted a lot of buzz worthy of the Leo rising. Let's not forget that fire and combustion is what literally lifts ships out through the atmosphere and into space. The inception of Challenger came, too, with an Aries stellium: Sun, Mars and Mercury. The arrogance of NASA got it in trouble. (Natal chart of NASA, 1958, has Sun in Leo. Arrogance and pride.)

• Aquarius on the DC also fits this inclusive nature, with the relationship house of the ship in a sign known for its tolerance and inclusion. "Space for Everyone". Aquarius as fixed air ruling atmosphere and what is beyond, and the doing of things to benefit all of humanity.

• That Mars in Aries? At the critical 29th degree at Challenger's inception. That is a degree of crisis, of fate, with a combustible and accident prone planet, in an explosive fire sign. It also opposes the planet of crises, Pluto in Libra conjunct the IC, approaching its own critical degree at 28. Mars opposite Pluto says a hell of a lot about the inherent volatility of the endeavor. Saturn is RX at 2 degrees in Scorpio, applying in a strong conjunction to Pluto and opposition to Mars. Here, all three malefics are in contentious aspect, saying more about the hotness, the rashness, the explosiveness all inherent in the endeavor as well. Mars opposing Saturn is the tug of war between speed and stopping, hot and cold, things that butt heads. From a purely technical standpoint, the battle between hot and cold is what caused the explosion, the O-rings on the ship unable to handle the cold of the morning of launch (Aquarius season, Saturn-ruled, cold had the final say) allowing pressurized gas (heat) to threaten external engines. It's fitting for the name of the ship itself, Challenger, a cosmic coincidence that details the essence of the chart. The launch schedule was called "unrealistically optimistic" owing, perhaps, to the eagerness of Mars ignoring the cautions of Saturn.

• Retrograde Jupiter conj. Uranus in Sag in the 5th also says something about the enthusiasm behind the project, but the propensity to overextend, over-exaggerate, and generally have a hard time settling on what is practical. So much Sagittarian joy derived out of breaching new space horizons also led to Challenger's fate.

• That Pluto in Libra right on the IC also describes the nature of the conflict leading up to the event: group-think, miscommunication, and the treatment of whistle blowers. The devastating energy of Pluto in the diplomatic "go along to get along" sign of Libra, in essence, sealed the disaster as fate. There was also a reticense to communicate some fatal technical flaws about the launch to superios, capturing the energy of Mercury opposite Pluto, and the role of power structures in effective communication.

• The MC of the Challenger chart is Taurus with Venus there. But it is unaspected. Not only does this add some chaos to her ruling of the Libra IC, it also says there is something around the outburst of or deadening of emotion and collaboration surrounding the fate of the Challenger.

• Last, I want to mention Mercury, as the clear presentation and understanding of information between NASA management and engineering was called misleading and unclear. In the natal chart of the ship, Mercury is trine Neptune in Sagittarius, also RX. While clearly providing expansive vision and hope, excitement, it didn't do much to tailor to the details and slower, mundane, and procedural aspects of the highly technical event.

Now, the chart of the Challenger launch/disaster (whole signs):

• The Leo ASC of the natal Challenger moves to the IC, 4th house. This damning, because it represents the ending or suppression of what was once bright and full of promise. The 4th house was traditionally known as the house of death and its a more solemn and silent place. The Leo ASC finding a resting place. 4th house is midnight Sun, where it cannot be seen.

• The Aries stellium of natal Challnger, the fanfare and excitement, moved to the 12th on the date of the launch. Hope lost.

• Taurus ASC conj. NN: In and of itself, the NN on the ascendant of a pivotal event is favorable. It points towards the expression of the event being visible or emphasized. But this ASC and NN is directly opposite Pluto, now in Scorpio in the 7th. So the visibility of the event is threatened by the destruction of Pluto. And we can see how it played out: with the explosion of the ship being consumed by many people on live television. NN, or Rahu in Vedic Astrology, is a ravenous and malefic influence. The simplicity of Taurus, "this will be fine, we've planned" met the complexity of Scorpio, and best laid plans were threatened and destroyed.

• Sun conj. Venus conj. Mercury high in the 10th house in Aquarius. This is symbolic of the literal launching of these diverse astronauts into space, the highest point of the chart. They were loved, admired and damn smart/impressive. But all three of these Aquarius placement are squared by Pluto in the 7th in Scorpio. I googled "Sun square Pluto" once before, and I remember the phrase "Blow Up and Breakdown" coming up. Here, it is literal, but also complicates the legacy of the event. It is interesting to note that after the explosion, NASA was reliably unreliable and opaque with what went wrong, a Scorpionic 7th house subterfuge.

• Both Venus and Mercury were combust, or burned up by the rays of the Sun, weakening in power.

• Ruler of Aquarius launch in the 8th. Saturn was in the WH 8th house in Sagittarius. This speaks volumes. For one, Saturn struggles in Sagittarius, the expansive nature of the sign antithetical to Saturn's more practical and plodding nature. This alone is some astrological poetry about the poor planing of the event, and the downsides to exuberance and excitement, of rushing. But in the 8th, Saturn qualifies death, and in Sagittarius co-present Uranus--a sudden fiery explosion. Mercury was now square Pluto, an evolution in its previous opposition above, sealing the deal on disastrous communication.

• Moon in Virgo in the 5th. I never said, but the natal Moon of the Challenger was in Cap in the 6th house, but squared by the Sun in Aries. We can say that the soul and heart of the event, the need to plan, calculate, and work hard, was there but ultimately squelched out by the abundance of fanfare from Aries/Leo and specifically the Aries Sun. During the launch of any event, having the Moon in a mutable sign isn't great. The moving parts of the event become of issue, and here, the Moon rules the IC (resting place) in Cancer, and squares both Uranus and Saturn in the 8th house. The Moon describes the fate of the event.

• Jupiter in Aquarius in the 10th, square Mars and ruler of 11th. The challenge from Mars strong in its own sign of Scorpio ultimately brought down the unwise actions of Jupiter. While Jupiter supplied hope and promise, we can see that it also provided some unchecked courageousness and pioneering. This is immoderate action, rash action, wheeling and dealing, and wishing versus planning. Jupiter square Mars can also represent the explosion itself, the combustion of heat and gas. Jupiter is ruler of the 8th. But Jupiter also ruler of the Pisces 11th brings in the heavy media element before, during, and after the crash. 17 percent of Americans witnessed the crash, and 85% of Americans heard of the crash within an hour, unprecedented for a NASA event.

Thanks for reading if you did.

Sarah Paulson's 11th House and the Archetypal Mommy

Sarah Paulson is an actress and overall wonderful person who is kind of Hollywood’s sweetheart the the moment due to the sheer amount of wonderful content she’s been in during the last few years. She’s very talented. And beautiful.

I was watching her latest film, Run, on Hulu yesterday while running through her social media mentions. In the movie she plays an possessive mother, hellbent on keeping her daughter close to home. Her character has Munchhausen Syndrome by Proxy (that’s not a spoiler, btw!). But even before this film, it has been a long standing joke that fans and stans alike will call her “mom” or “mommy”. Internet culture is weird. Paulson has addressed it and has seemed to accept it! (We’ve done something similar with Lady Gaga’s “mother monster” persona. In fact, calling a public figure “mom” or “mommy” has become a shorthand for expressing admiration.)

What is SO FUNNY is that Paulson’s 11th house is Cancer, the archetypal mommy. And 11th house is the place of fans, followings, audience. So that her fan base calls her mom, however strange, has symbolic resonance with her chart. As per usual, we see astrology manifesting correctly in the weirdest of ways. She has Big Mommy Energy.

What’s more, she has Saturn in Cancer in that 11th house. The mom and mom-like figures (think, caretakers) she plays are often maleficent or are in creepy/unsavory plots. In Run (poisonous mom), Ratched (poisonous nurse), literally all of her roles in American Horror Story, and even her so-good-but-awful role in 12 Years a Slave, playing a cruel mistress and house mother. She even plays hated (Saturn) women (Cancer), like Marcia Clark in American Crime Story: OJ and will be back in the series playing Linda Tripp. These are controversial figures! Even in more nuanced portrayals, like that of anti-feminist housewife Alice Macray on Mrs. America, Paulson seems to symbolically tap in on the restrictive or challenging nature of Saturn placed in a sign of femininity and care taking.

There is a running joke on social media is also that Paulson’s is the queen of crying and screaming on screen. And I thought—that’s about as Saturn in Cancer as it gets! Frigid, scared, crying women. Saturn is about things that go bump in the night. Cancer is about how we emote that fear.

I find it fascinating how actors pick roles that seem to illustrate their chart. Even if in their normal waking life that part of the chart is dormant in personal affairs, it can be expressed through artistic choices. It calls to mind the roles we play within our own networks. How those fans, followers, and friends see us.

Paulson’s Moon in Aquarius rules that Cancer 11th from the 6th house, creating a nice little mutual reception. Her life’s work (6th house) is embedded in expressing that mommy archetype, even in the darkest ways (Saturn).