Camille Gray 4/9/21 Camille Gray 4/9/21

Reframing Cancer: Why Emotional Sensitivity is One of the Mightiest Strengths

How did Cancer come to be synonymous with crybabies? I have no doubt, reader, that you have learned about this sign through the lens of its sensitive emotional structure. But it seems that the profound emotional wiring of Cancer has won not the recognition of its own strength, but rather, a disparagingly crafted caricature of moodiness, tears, and the girlification™ of human emotion. Much like Taurus being talked about strictly in relation to food, money, and sleep, Cancer, unlike its other water sign brethren, has been loudly maligned, scorned, and joked about as if to distill this evolutionary and necessary human component down into memes about crying, hurt feelings, Drake, and mommy issues. It is true that weaponized emotion opens the door to passive-aggression, manipulation, and a particular brand of self-possessed lassitude. But then, every sign has its unproductive manifestation, not just Cancer. What is it about Cancer that triggers such a disproportionately spiteful response?

In all of my reframings, I find mythology to be a helpful starting point. The myth of Cancer I’d like to share today may have little to do with what you know. In the more popular rendition, Cancer the crab was sent to fight Hercules but ended up crushed to death. As consolation, goddess Hera made a place in the sky for the crab. End of story. But in other tellings, and instrumental in reframing this sign, Cancer was known as Crios, a giant crab that guarded Poseidon’s daughters. In exchange, Poseidon gave Crios immortality. Crios took his duties seriously—the protection, the sharp antennae for any danger. And so, when danger did come, Crios fought valiantly, and was left wounded. But remember, Crios was given immortality, destined to live with the injuries he had sustained, accepting of his wounded state without complaint. So, as a reward for his bravery, Poseidon relieved Crios of his pain, immortalizing him instead in the night’s sky. In this second telling, we get to the heart of why Cancer’s sensitivity is its greatest strength: the automatic ability to protect while enduring pain. Continuing to show up in a world that breaks our bones, rushing first to help others bandage up, while wearing a wound of their own.

Cancer is a cardinal water sign, and in an evolutionary walk down the zodiac, Cancer represents a necessary first—initiating emotion. It is here that all of creation—started by Aries, sustained by Taurus, perceived by Gemini—confronts the heart. Cancer answers the question of belonging, of community. Beyond zodiacal order, Cancer is also where life begins symbolically—the womb, the life-sustaining properties of water from which all else sprouts—from the relational mirroring of Libra to the experiential adventures of Sagittarius. And so the archetype of the Mother begins and ends with Cancer, the sign responsible for primordial nurturing, emotional connection, and the fundamental sense of love and care that allows one to extend fully into their humanity. Now think about how mothers are treated in society, and by extension, women individuals writ large. There is a chronic and institutional maltreatment of the feminine: from the fight to control our bodies, to be able to vote, to be able to hold positions of power, to be able to walk home at night and not fear being followed or assaulted. Even the pathologized and pseudo-scientific ways women have been belittled—from the Hysteria diagnosis of the 1880s, to the work of Freud relegating the complex (and still misunderstood) structure of the clitoris to just “a small penis.” Emotions have long been marred within the framework of what is weak, what is unnecessary, what is unbecoming, what needs to be shoved aside in order to succeed. In Western society, men are taught to rebuke all displays of emotions (the Cancer opposition to enterprising and stoic Capricorn). Think even of our treatment of planet Earth—mother Earth. We take, we pillage, we disregard. yet Earth continues to sustain and support. This profound distortion of what is natural and human has leaked into Astrological takes and communities, with Cancer being the only feminine sign that takes the heat.

Despite this chronic maltreatment, women continue to show up, to make strides, to give birth to the very people who may, later on, become part of the patriarchal machine. In my reframing of Cancer, I want to emphasize that continuing to show up is a fucking superpower in a world that denies the divine feminine a seat at the table, that denies emotion a seat at the table, that denies subtext, disrespects creatives, and mocks emotion. Bravery isn’t winning all the time—it’s losing and continuing to try again. It’s remaining convicted and purposeful in a world that brings you to your knees. Avoiding emotion is easy, folks. Feeling them isn’t. And to be sure, one needn’t be woman to have this superpower. Cancer energy bleeds through any gender, any culture-- but setting the stage with Cancer’s undeniable link to womanhood, and womanhood’s subjugation, demonstrates the power at hand here. And all this gets to the heart of Cancer’s cardinal modality—it’s not just about initiating emotion but continuing to begin again in an environment dead set on killing you. People mock the safe space that Cancer creates, yet surely couldn’t thrive without it—a home, a community, a belonging, a sense that our feelings are valid. Cancer is the calling from deep in the heart that compels action. What life is worth living without that emotional compass? Sensitivity does not demonstrate weakness, but rather, points towards the strength of individuals who rise again, tender-hearted, to face the world.

I also want to look at Cancer’s ruling planet, the Moon, and the deep vestiges of myth that surround it. Specifically, the myth of Egyptian goddess, Isis. She was and still is considered a lunar deity, extolling the virtues of motherhood, protection, and harvest. But one of her primary powers was that of healing, another aspect of the Cancer archetype that bears importance. Isis’ lover, Osiris, was cut up into a million little pieces by his brother Seth. Isis went on not only to heal and make him whole again, but to bear his child nine months later. She was revered for these skills, known as a great magician, and has been said to possess powers that were far stronger than other male deities like Osiris or Re. The moon watches over Earth when the Sun is away, casting a magical haze that gives way to dreams, to sleep, to restoration and healing. Without the reflective nature of the Moon, life is unbalanced, it burns up under the heat of the Sun. The Moon, and by extension, the Cancer archetype, provides a balanced ecosystem. With no emotional, subtextual, or subliminal exercise, the inner life suffers, and so does the outer life. Like Isis and the Moon, the Cancer energy carries with it profound healing, the ability to turn nothing into something, to smooth over what is wrought and wrinkled. In the tale above, despite the odds, the hatred, the embroiled battles—Isis came to represent what it means to possess emotional wit, to circumvent challenges, to wear proudly the scars borne from protection over what is loved, what is needed, what is cared for. Is that not strength? Isis was actually a very obscure goddess but came into prominence because of her abilities. You could say she was reframed—once her gifts were recognized, she was elevated in importance. Cancer deserves the same renaissance. While the sign of Cancer itself is not obscured—it’s gifts and strengths certainly are. Even the literal Moon, cratered from millennia of space debris, continues to rise, to wane, to wax—to be alive in a hostile environment, to take the hits, just like Cancer. The Moon’s presence in the night’s sky, like Cancer, is enduring and resilient. It cares even when we don’t.

Dear reader, I hope this piece has allowed you to see Cancer differently, to see that beyond notions of crying oneself into a stupor or being a needy smotherer, that Cancer offers a profound strength, not found in any other sign. If you have Cancer in your chart, see it not as an invitation to belittle your wonderful emotional wiring or to mindlessly participate in the meme-ing of your character, but to come into respect and admiration of the superpower you possess. The world needs it, even if it does not yet see it.

Camille Gray 3/15/21 Camille Gray 3/15/21

On the Differences Between the 8th and 12th houses

I find that these houses are often grouped together within the context of planetary interpretation. Though, there are nuanced differences between them. They are talked about in such strong tandem that the 8th and 12th house appear to offer us the same things: hardship, challenge, spirituality, meditation, death, loss, the occult. All things immaterial, woo-woo, psychic or magical. The 8th and 12th trine one another, but then so does the 4th, yet the 4th is largely left out of the conversation. More on that another day (sorry 4th). Below is what I find to be the difference between the 8th and the 12th, both as a personal holder of planets here, and from client work.

The 8th house is where we enter into complexity, basically. Whether it is the complexity of the finance market, the complexity of mental health and trauma work, the complexity of occult work or the complexity of marrying or going into business another flawed human—nothing in the 8th house is clear cut. Where the 12th house offers us a similar kind of transcendence, dissolving into nothing—the 8th house is where we dissolve into our own humanity. Not through the more comforting gaze of spiritualism or meditation like the 12th, but through a human willingness to “go there”. And so, to me, the 8th house requires some action. We can perhaps see this in that fact that the 8th house sextiles both the 6th house and the 10th house, the sextile being a more active and energizing current. The 6th is where we go for daily, ritualistic work. It is where we go to hone in on the details of daily life in such a way that galvanizes personal success in the 10th. To have the 8th house hanging out in-between these two houses is to indicate that complexity is a necessary throughway to success. There is no success worth having that hasn’t prompted us to look closely at our fears, our hang ups, our vulnerabilities. So, as we rise up to the 10th house, the 8th house becomes a necessary component in the journey. Its aversion to the 1st house/ascendant is less about lack of personal willpower or an ineffective planet and more about the things we consciously hide, what that planet is keeping. Planets in the 8th don’t speak to the 1st not because they don’t have anything to say, but because what is to be said is heavy, complex, hard, and most times, taboo. We don’t want to say them, or acknowledge them.

The 12th house is less complex in that it represents the dispersal of reality. In this house to “go there” means nothing, as there does not exist. Reality tends to be the realm of existence that humans complicate. Rather, the 12th house presents as a doorway between realities, where you go to forget the self, not to examine the self. Planets in the 12th represent a liminal space between life and death, and as such, concerted human effort, in the ego sense, fails miserably in this house. That is why human action and reaction here, also in the ego sense, is often called self-sabotage. The process of surrendering belongs to this house. After all is said and done, and you’ve done the best you could to erect some personal reality of yours, the time comes to let go. It will either come to pass, or disappear into the ether, an unbelonging. And really, there is nothing complicated about the act of surrender.

If we rise up to the 10th house, then we rest finally in the 12th, where planets enter to recharge, to get a grip on what was accomplished, what was a failure, and where to go now. But first, a pause. And so, the sextile between the 10th and the 12th house, rather, represents the stimulation of retrospect, of glancing upon our successes or actions from a place of distance and non-judgement. To be reborn again into the 1st house with 12th house wisdom. What’s done is done. The impetus to improve or to fix the human condition belongs to the 8th house. Your only job in the 12th is to enter into spaces of compassion, quiet reflection on and acceptance of what is without trying to change what is. Planets in the 12th house operate in a blind spot to the first house, but also in square to the 3rd house. So, planets here can feel unknowable, hard to get a grip on or to understand. That is because they operate above, beside, or without the human trappings of traditional knowledge. They ripen not with sheer brain power, but a higher power.

The 8th house and 12th support one another through trine. It is usually the gunk we drag up in the 8th house that can meet a compassionate ending and release in the 12th house. For example, my anxiety disorder is a result of my specific 8th house set up. And I can therapize, and study, and talk about my anxiety to death. To know it, how it operates, where it came from is all helpful. The gaze here is on my own damaged fear responses. But try as one might, to think hard about a thing isn’t to solve it. And while western medicine and other such remedies exist as management, I believe that true healing lies in that 12th house trine, where we bring our human neuroses and just sit with them, accept them. That alone galvanizes so much healing. The 12th house as a place of the collective unconscious brings with it, also, the knowing that one isn’t suffering alone. That is why 12th house people can get to work in philanthropic and other helpful ways, as they know the pain others go through firsthand. It as also why 12th house artists and creators are able to so succinctly evoke an emotion out of us.

To use another example, the 8th house is where we go for occult practices. So, say you pull a tarot card about the outcome of job interview. In a tarot spread, the Universe speaks through symbolism, a 12th-house brand of vague language. In that instance of divinatory work, it feels you get a glimpse of something bigger, a plan, a message, the reality underneath reality. And that is the 12th house working in harmony with an active 8th house. Let’s say you’re hung up over needing this job, an anxious mess! You’ve allowed all your 8th house hang ups and anxieties to run the show. You get your spread, you see it, you judge it as good, or bad or confusing. But the reality of the outcome is not up to you, really, even though mortal actions such as resume building and good impressions work, at the end of the day, there is a metaphysical underworking to the way things pan out for us. Entering into an energetic space of creation is what necessitates the best outcomes. And so, the trine to the 12th can also enter in as the force of Universe, either moving you in or out of situations for your highest good. And perhaps, for a time, this is unbeknownst to you.

Dear reader, these are just my own musings of the 8th and 12th. I hope I was able to provide a personal brand of clarity for the two houses always shrouded in the most mystery.

Camille Gray 2/22/21 Camille Gray 2/22/21

Rihanna as Modern-Day Elizabeth Taylor

The Barbados Music Industry page on Facebook (I know, not that salient of a source and clearly biased lmfao) made a post yesterday claiming Rihanna as modern day Elizabeth Taylor, citing her obvious beauty, her inspirational appeal, her talent and business endeavors. By the end of the article, it was clear that Rihanna's empire had surpassed that of the late Elizabeth Taylor, but I wanted to explore their connection as provocateurs of sexuality, charm, and class.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIH!

I knew Neptune had to be highly involved, and I noticed that they both have Neptune as an elevated planet, the planet closest to their Midheaven (MC). Astrologer Ray Grass describes the most elevated planet as such:

Because of its exalted position, any planetary body located here “lords over” all the other planets in the chart and can exert a powerful influence over someone’s entire life. And while that’s true, to some extent, of any planet occupying the highest point above the horizon, it becomes even more important if that body is near or conjunct the Midheaven, or MC (Medium Coeli) — the zenith point of the horoscope. Any planet aligned with this angle, some have claimed, is “accidentally dignified” in that its innate qualities are amplified in potentially constructive ways.

Neptune as the archetype of glamour, fame, and elusive je ne sais quoi certainly describes both Taylor and Rihanna, who both have Neptune as their most elevated planet, with Taylor's Scorpio Moon also in contention there (more on the Moon connection later below). Taylor's Neptune in Virgo qualifies her appeal as more service oriented, and she was involved in and awarded for her many philanthropic endeavors. She stated:

I decided that with my name, I could open certain doors, that I was a commodity in myself – and I'm not talking as an actress. I could take the fame I'd resented and tried to get away from for so many years – but you can never get away from it – and use it to do some good. I wanted to retire, but the tabloids wouldn't let me. So, I thought: If you're going to screw me over, I'll use you.

This is a lovely Virgo sentiment. Cashing in on that fact that fame has made her commodity and paying that forward to help others. Mutable Earth. Taylor also had a very involved hand in the production of her fragrances, which later became her biggest profit driver, worth over one billion dollars. Perfumery and production are both highly skilled Virgo tasks.

Rihanna's Neptune in Capricorn qualifies her appeal as more entrepreneurial in nature, breaking new ground. Her Fenty make-up (and now skin) line smashed preconceived notions about what it means to have complete skin color inclusivity. Her lingerie line was similarly inclusive, featuring bodies of all sizes, shapes and abilities. She is also the first black woman to ink a deal with the prestigious LVMH fashion group. Capricorn as cardinal Earth can both destroy and create new paradigms for society to adhere to. Rihanna has clearly done so, and continues.

Both women have their Neptune in Earth signs, making it apparent that they have/had similar approaches to their fame and status, using it to make things make sense in a world that adores them, and setting the stage for their legacies to speak for them long after they are done here. Taylor has.

(I also feel like Neptune describes both of these women's hella dreamy eyes).

Rihanna and Taylor both have Venus in Aries, conjunct. It is perhaps most apparent in Rihanna, who took the word "savage" (Fenty x Savage) and turned it into an emblem of female empowerment. Taking the raw, straight-forward, unapologetic and independent nature of Aries and making it sexy. But Taylor also used this fierce nature, not only to advocate for others (as quoted above), but in the roles she portrayed on and off-screen. She was a vixen, a siren, but also a complex and outspoken protagonist. She ran through marriages like an Olympian. And didn't care. Both women are fighters, the star of their own lives, and simply do not and did not give a fuck. Venus in Aries in an asset for any woman trying to get ahead in the male-driven world of entertainment and business.

They also both have Venus on the angles, with Rihanna's conjunct her ASC and Taylor's conjunct her IC. Any planet that is on an angle plays and important role in the life of the native. Taylor's is exactly conjunct her Uranus, explaining her multiple marriages--the need for relationship and then the need to be set free.

The Pisces connection. Both women have Sun in Pisces, conjunct. Modern rulerships aside, Pisces can rule over all that is romantic, dreamy, and beautiful. As the exaltation of Venus, Pisces can represent not only artistic endeavors made transcendent, but also a larger than life beauty, and as much as I loathe this word, and for lack of a better one: exotica. Both women appear(ed) to exist on the world and yet clearly embody something otherworldly. And it is now that I will point out that both women have become identified for their connection to diamonds, a jewel that exists in physical form but has also come to signify something ethereal beyond value : Rihanna's hit song Diamonds and Taylor's fragrance, White Diamonds.

Rihanna's DC angle is Taylor's MC angle, both Libra. Of course planets draw the strongest connections. But I couldn't overlook the symmetry in their angles. In synastry, conjunction between the angles can create a binding effect. Taylor's Libra MC was a conscious activation of justice, fairness, and balance--also, her clear beauty. Rihanna's Libra DC is more an unconscious desire to embody the same.

The “Diamonds” singer is following in the footsteps of one of her role models*, late actress and advocate Elizabeth Taylor, who co-founded amfAR, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, and other HIV organizations. In fact, at the 2014 amfAR LA Inspiration Gala,* Rihanna bid $100,000 on a photograph of Taylor, which was signed by artist Willy Rizzo.
“Everybody loves Elizabeth Taylor!” Rihanna said. “She’s very glamorous. She’s the best that’s ever done it. But it was for a good cause. I didn’t mind spending every penny on it, because it all went to charity.”

I wanted to emphasize role model, a person who embodies all the traits you admire, someone you emulate. That is the DC/MC connection made manifest. What Rihanna saw in Taylor (MC), is what she too hopes to be (DC). To note, but not really as important as the conjunction, they both have fire ASC trine the other's fire ASC. Both women had/have extroverted/assertive/yang ways of interfacing with a world.

Luminaries in the 12th. Rihanna has her Pisces Sun in the 12th, and Taylor her Scorpio Moon in the 12th. Water signs. Both of these positions are ripe for tapping into the collective unconscious, an ability to be aware of, exploit, and deeply touch the consciousness of humanity, the world. As creative people, Rihanna and Taylor have an influence that will ripple through time, that will be embedded in the zeitgeist. And even while living, both women are/were phenomena--something extraordinary that you just can't put your finger on, a 12th house vagueness and elusiveness. I'm also inspired by the 12th house as the limbo between wakefulness and dream, the merger of fantasy and reality. As described above, both women invoke(ed) this otherworldly beauty, charm, and isness that leaves others in awe. And in water signs, it provokes an emotional reaction from the world. Taylor perhaps more embroiled in controversy (Scorpio), and Rihanna less embroiled in anything, the vastness and possibility of Pisces.

Luminaries in the 12th isn't a smooth ride. Both women have suffered greatly, and in the public eye. It is perhaps this turmoil that fuels their endless rebounds and success.

Moon as master projector. Rihanna has her Moon right on the ASC, and as alluded to before, Taylor's moon was very close to her MC, making both women ripe for the absorption of others' fantasy. Rihanna and Taylor are both women that other women aspire to be, and that men aspire to be with. Outside of heteronormativity and gender norms, both women still encourage a human authenticity. Both are north stars, pointing the way of what it means to fully cultivate a life richly lived, and never regretted.

To end, both women (omg how many times is she gonna say BOTH WOMEN in this post), have strong Mars energy in their charts, owing to the Aries, the Scorpio, and its contact with both of their Suns. Mars in the chart of a woman shows a directness, and forcefulness, a willingness to rise to the occasion, and the cultivation of courage. Rihanna's Good Girl, Gone Bad era (which let's face it, is less of an era and more of a lifelong personality) embodies this martial archetype to fight for an identity of ones own, to challenge what is expected. During this time, Rihanna cut her hair and changed her style much to the chagrin of her management team. This would be what ended up making the Rihanna of then become the Rihanna we love so much now. Playing with edges. Avoiding ego crushing deference to others.

Though perhaps unaware at the time, Taylor's film career has come to light as being "pre-feminist", with her roles introducing to a broad audience, for the first time, many feminist ideals. Some of her roles also subverted stereotypes about women and minorities. But it was mainly her celebrity and self-hood that elevated her as larger than life, a force to be reckoned with. She had a disorienting amount of moxy, sexy, and nerve that invited revolt (unfairly), yet, paved the way for the Rihanna's of today.

I believe in life and I’ll fight for it. I believe you have to put up your dukes and fight, even if you don’t know what you’re fighting against.
-Elizabeth Taylor, Sun conj. Mars

Thanks for reading!

Camille Gray 2/10/21 Camille Gray 2/10/21

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