Preface

Jacques Lacan (1901-1981) was a Parisian physician, psychiatrist, and psychoanalyst. Radical, rebellious, and heroic, Lacan revolutionized the theory, practice, and ethic of psychoanalysis in twentieth-century France. Described as “the most controversial psychoanalyst since Freud” and “the Picasso of psychoanalysis”, Lacan evoked a fresh interpretation of psychoanalysis inspired by the artistic milieu of French surrealism and its literary counterparts.1

Lacan described his project as a “return to Freud” and thus to the modern origin of the psychoanalytic tradition. However, Lacan also evolved psychoanalysis beyond the Freudian conception with his explorations of French phenomenology, linguistic structuralism, mathematical topology, and aspects of Eastern philosophy.

Present are, from left and standing: Jacques Lacan, Cécile Éluard, Pierre Reverdy, Louise Leiris, Pablo Picasso, Zanie de Campan, Valentine Hugo, Simone de Beauvoir and Brassaï (to whom this photo is credited). From left and sitting are: Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus, Jean Aubier and Michel Leiris.

In what follows, I offer a Human Design analysis of Jacques Lacan, with the two-fold intention of illustrating the psychoanalytic application of Human Design and how “the style is the man himself”. The examination that follows is by no means exhaustive, but functions as a sketch of Lacan, told through the language of Human Design. For those unfamiliar with Lacan, I offer an introduction to the man and his teachings.

Birth Data and Bodygraph

Lacan was born on April 13, 1901, at 14:30 in Paris, France. His birth time is sourced from a birth record collected by the Swiss-French psychologist, Françoise Gauquelin. Based on this data, we observe the following in Lacan’s bodygraph:

• Lacan is a 3/5 Manifesting Generator, with an Emotional Authority, born on the Right Angle Cross of Maya.

• Seven centers are defined: (Ajna, Throat, G, Sacral, Spleen, Solar Plexus, Root), and two centers are undefined (Head, Heart). No centers are completely open.

• Six channels are defined:

  • Transformation (54-32)

  • Structuring (43-23)

  • Transitoriness (35-36)

  • Charisma (20-34)

  • Exploration (10-34)

  • Awakening (20-10).

• The 5^th line predominates with 9 activations, followed by the 4^th and 1^st lines with 4 activations each.

• The Knowing/Individual circuit predominates with 9 activations, followed by the Sensing and Understanding circuits with 5 activations each.

I. Lacan as Martyr/Heretic

As a system, Human Design synthesizes the sixty-four hexagrams with the twelve signs of the astrological zodiac. The zodiacal placements of the astrological birth chart are thus rendered in hexagrammic correspondence. The hexagrams constitute “gates” in centers that connect to other centers through the formation of a channel. Following the structure of the Yijing, each hexagrammic gate is read in six possible lines, shown in the decimal points after each gate. The profile is determined by reading the line numbers associated with the Sun placement in the design and personality placements. In Lacan’s design, the personality Sun is placed in gate 42 and operates on the 3rd line (42.3); the design Sun is placed in gate 61 and operates on the 5th line (61.5). Therefore, Lacan’s is a 3/5 profile.

The profile is the hexagrammic foundation of the design.2 The first number represents the conscious aspect (or “personality”) and the second number represents the unconscious aspect (or “design”). The six lines function as primary roles in the person’s design, giving each gate 6 possible roles and rendering twelve possible profiles. Each line functions as a signifier described with a single word. The 3^rd line is the “Martyr” and the 5^th line is the “Heretic”. Therefore, a 3/5 profile is described as the duality of the Martyr/Heretic.

Lacan is an archetypal example of the Martyr/Heretic. In 1953, Lacan was expelled from the Société Parisienne de Psychanalyse (SPP) due to disagreements regarding the length of analytic sessions. Lacan practiced and advocated for a “variable-length” session, which the psychoanalytic orthodoxy rejected in favor of the established “fifty-minute hour”.3 Later that year, Lacan co-founded the Société Française de Psychanalyse (SFP).

In 1963, the International Psychoanalytic Association (IPA) effectively expelled Lacan from its association by requiring the SFP to remove his name from its list of analysts. The SFP’s compliance with this request led to Lacan’s barring from yet another psychoanalytic association, while also stripping him of his authority to train analysts.

In order to continue his work, he founded the École Freudienne de Paris (EFP) in 1964, an association he dissolved a year before his death, with the famous statement, “It is up to you to be Lacanians if you wish. I am Freudian”.

In 1966, Lacan published a collection of his writings titled Écrits, which sold five thousand copies within two weeks of publication. Lacan’s work received significant acclaim and criticism. Roudinesco recounts a notable statement made by Lacan’s former analysand, Didier Anzieu, who called him “a heretic” and predicted “his downfall”.4

With this rather brief excursion into Lacan’s work, we are given a glimpse of Lacan’s style in the manner of the Martyr/Heretic. He was martyred by the psychoanalytic establishment of his time, excluded from the professional body of psychoanalysts, and proclaimed as a heretic. The process of the 3^rd line involves “making and breaking bonds”, a theme we see throughout Lacan’s professional and personal life. Lacan’s expulsion from the orthodoxy forced him to embrace his own context and elaboration, which he did with great success. By the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, Lacan’s seminars were attracting nearly a thousand attendees, becoming an epicenter of French intellectual life. Therefore, by embracing his style, Lacan moved into the personal destiny laid bare before him.

Of the six lines, it is the 5^th line that appears to operate purely on the mechanism of unconscious processes. Ra describes the 5^th line as a seduction and projection field, where others project what they need and think a 5^th line person can provide them with.5 “If a practical solution is not provided, if what you have given them is a ‘house of cards’, your reputation suffers and the ‘heretic will be burned at the stake’”.6 It is not too adventurous to propose that Lacan’s experience of the 5^th line led to one of his most pivotal articulations: “Desire is desire of the Other”. The 5th line person functions as an object-cause of the Other’s desire via the mechanics of a transferential field.

Since the 5^th line is unconscious in Lacan’s design, it is a process he became aware of over time. As we saw, Lacan initially endeavored to work in the context of the psychoanalytic establishment of the time, even characterizing his thought in relation to its founder. However, Lacan’s teaching could not be farther from the notion of “traditional” or “orthodox”. We can see Lacan becoming conscious of this fact in various ways, but a notable example is given in his one and only televised discourse. In one part of the partly-improvised discourse, Lacan gives one of his best definitions of analytic discourse:

What I call the analytic discourse is the social bond determined by the practice of an analysis. It derives its value from its being placed amongst the most fundamental of the bonds which remain viable for us.7

What does Lacan mean by a “social bond”? “Social” comes from the Latin socialis, meaning “allied”, the root of which is socius, meaning “friend”. Lacan is thus invoking “social” in the sense of true friendship, a connection that encounters the real through a collective ethic of practice.

After hearing this remark, Lacan’s student and future heir, Jacques-Alain Miller, then asks, “But you yourself are excluded from that which makes for social bonds between analysts, aren’t you?”—to which Lacan responds:

The Association, so-called “International” (although that is a bit of a fiction) having been for so long limited to a family business—I still knew it in the hands of Freud’s direct and adopted descendants, if I dared. But I warn you that here I am both judge and plaintiff, hence partisan. I would say that, at present, it is a professional insurance plan against analytic discourse. The PIPAAD.8 Damned PIPAAD!

They want to know nothing of the discourse that determines them. But they are not thereby excluded from it; far from it, since they function as analysts, which means that there are people who analyze themselves by means of them.

So they satisfy this discourse, even if some of its effects go unrecognized by them. On the whole, they don’t lack prudence; and even if it isn’t the true kind, it might be the do-good kind. Besides, they are the ones at risk.

The transcript of the discourse was eventually published as Television: A Challenge to the Psychoanalytic Establishment, where the subtitle alone establishes Lacan’s now-conscious heresy.

In Seminar VIII, Lacan provides an exegesis of his notion of transference through a commentary on Socrates. In one such example, Lacan writes:

[Alcibiades] attempted to seduce Socrates, he wanted to make him, and in the most openly avowed way possible, into someone instrumental and subordinate to what? To the object of Alcibiades’ desire—ágalma, the good object.

I would go even further. How can we analysts fail to recognize what is involved? He says quite clearly: Socrates has the good object in his stomach. Here Socrates is nothing but the envelope in which the object of desire is found.

It is in order to clearly emphasize that he is nothing but this envelope that Alcibiades tries to show that Socrates is desire’s serf in his relations with Alcibiades, that Socrates is enslaved to Alcibiades by his desire. Although Alcibiades was aware that Socrates desired him, he wanted to see Socrates’ desire manifest itself in a sign, in order to know that the other—the object, ágalma—was at his mercy.

Now, it is precisely because he failed in this undertaking that Alcibiades disgraces himself, and makes of his confession something that is so affectively laden. The daemon of Αἰδώς (Aidós), Shame, about which I spoke to you before in this context, is what intervenes here. This is what is violated here. The most shocking secret is unveiled before everyone; the ultimate mainspring of desire, which in love relations must always be more or less dissimulated, is revealed—its aim is the fall of the Other, A, into the other, a.910

Socrates was proclaimed a heretic and sentenced to death. By drinking the poison that would kill him without hesitation, Socrates established himself as a martyr. In the person of Socrates, we are given an archetypal example of the martyr/heretic dyad. Why did Lacan speak of Socrates in order to illustrate transference? Because the 5^th line is the phenomenology of transference, which a martyr/heretic knows well.

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II. Lacan as Genius-Freak

Rather than analyzing all of Lacan’s defined channels, I wish to focus on the channel which, in my view, bears Lacan’s signature: the Channel of Structuring (43-23). The Channel of Structuring is formed by the connection between hexagram 43, “Breakthrough—The Gate of Insight”, and hexagram 23, “Splitting Apart—The Gate of Assimilation”.11 In the bodygraph, hexagram 43 is placed in the Ajna center, and hexagram 23 is placed in the Throat center.

The Ajna center conceptualizes original insights while the Throat center manifests them in speech. When the Ajna is connected to the Throat, an individual is given the ability to articulate and manifest their unique insights. Of the three channels that connect the Ajna to the Throat, the 43-23 is especially striking. It is named “the channel of structuring” because it gives the ability to structure one’s insights in speech, where “speech” encompasses spoken and written forms of expression.

The defining influence of this channel is exemplified in Lacan’s most fundamental dictum: “The unconscious is structured like a language”. Even a cursory reading of Lacan reveals the profound influence of structuralism on his interpretation of psychoanalysis.

The channel of structuring is described as “a design of individuality (from genius to freak)”. Lacan’s expulsion from the psychoanalytic establishment serves to highlight his individuality—from the founding of his own school to the articulation of an original pedagogy of psychoanalysis. Ra describes the trajectory of this channel as “genius to freak” to indicate that the articulations of an individual with this channel are either recognized (“genius”) or seen as preposterous (“freak”). We see this phenomenon so clearly in the history and process of Lacan’s work.

Lacan is commonly accused of being an obscurantist—intentionally concealing the meaning and implications of his words. To this point, I recently met a Jungian analyst and introduced myself as a Lacanian analyst, to which he responded, “Lacan! He’s so confusing!”.12

The channel of structuring is considered a “projected” channel, which means that it must be recognized in order for its energy to manifest.13 This means that the insights and expressions of the 43-23 must develop a sense of timing, knowing where and when to speak their distinctive discourse.

In Lacan’s design, the 43-23 is a conscious channel formed by astrological placements based on his birth date, rather than on the “design” date, which is calculated 88 degrees (or roughly 88 days) before the birth date.14 The idea is that the birth date forms the natal personality (which is conscious) and the design date forms the pre-natal design (which is unconscious). Since Lacan’s Channel of Structuring is conscious, it forms and functions in and as his personality. This channel can be formed by any planetary placements, but in Lacan’s case, it is formed by his north and south nodes, giving the 43-23 an evolutionary connotation. For Lacan, gates 43 and 23 are also associated with the 5^th line, which illustrates the heretical structure of his teaching.

The definition of the 43-23 as a movement between genius and freak explains why opinions are fervently divided on the value of Lacan’s teaching. Lacan does not have a universal value—his expression is for those who recognize the original contours of his speech. For the rest, his genius is a freakish semblance that splits apart all attempts at assimilation.

III. Lacan as Teacher: The Right Angle Cross of Maya

In Human Design, the concept of the Incarnation Cross signifies an individual's purpose. The cross is comprised of the four gates corresponding to the Sun and Earth positions in the personality and design. Each cross is augmented by its position within one of four possible “quarters” of the human design mandala (initiation, civilization, duality, or mutation) and is further defined by its “angle” (left or right).

Lacan was born on the Right Angle Cross of Maya (42/32 | 61/62) in the first quarter of initiation.15 The Right Angle Cross of Maya is categorized under Gate 42—Increase. Ra describes individuals born on the Right Angle Cross of Maya as “[t]rend setters grounded in properly evaluated detail who promote growth by bringing one cycle to completion, thus setting the stage for inspired new beginnings”.16 Lacan was one such pioneering spirit who brought psychoanalysis into new contexts of understanding while retaining its original essence. In this sense, Lacan was a true innovator.

And what of maya? The descriptor, māyā, is of Sanskrit origin and means “measure”, “unreal appearance”, “veil”, and “phantom”. In the context of Indian philosophy, māyā signifies the illusory nature of all conditional phenomena. Māyā is a deceptive appearance, or what Lacan calls the “grimace of the real”. Thus, to live in a conditional world is to traverse a fantasy, a virtualization of the real.

A related meaning of māyā is “fraud” or “deceit”. Perhaps Chomsky’s characterization of Lacan as “charlatan” was, in fact, an incomplete recognition of Lacan’s Incarnation Cross of Maya. It is intriguing that Lacan opens his televised discourse with the following confession:

I always speak the truth. Not the whole truth, because there’s no way to say it all. Saying it all is literally impossible—words fail. Yet, it’s through this very impossibility that the truth holds onto the real.17

A defining characteristic of Lacan’s teaching is his renunciation of ego psychology. In his formulation of the “mirror stage”, Lacan describes the infant’s recognition of its image in a mirror as an imaginary identification. In contrast to his predecessors and contemporaries, Lacan emphasizes the illusory nature of the ego and calls forth a confrontation with the real. Lacan’s use of the phrase “the real” points to a range of influences, from surrealism to modernism to Buddhism. Where psychoanalysis had previously endeavored to strengthen the ego-construct as essential to psychological well-being, Lacan unveils the real.

The body of Lacan’s spoken and written work constitutes a teaching, rather than a mere philosophy. The term “teaching” is derived from the Old English tæcan, meaning “show, present, point out”. The etymology is traced to an Indo-European root shared in Greek, deiknunai, meaning “show”, and deigma, meaning “sample”. Lacan uses language to point out the structure of the unconscious. The apparent difficulty of his communication is not due to intentional obscurity but reflects the cipher that is the unconscious itself.

In his final seminar, Encore, Lacan comments on the function of his Écrits:

It is rather well-known that those Écrits cannot be read easily. I can make a little autobiographical admission­­—that is exactly what I thought. I thought, perhaps it goes that far, I thought they were not meant to be read.

. . . This writing (écriture) stemmed from an initial reminder, namely, that analytic discourse is a new kind of relation based only on what functions as speech, in something one may define as a field.18

Lacan is situating his written work as “analytic discourse”, a textual mode of communication that is transparent to the field and function of the unconscious. As Grigg writes:

Lacan is a stylist, a baroque and defiant one to be sure, but one with, as Malcolm Bowie has pointed out, a capacity for formulating theses that are pithy and memorably simple . . . [T]hey indicate the presence of a didactic side in Lacan’s work, one that merits the term ‘teaching’.19

One reads Lacan as one reads a scriptural text whose letter speaks to the agency of the unconscious to make an instance of the real.

IV. Returning to Freud: Connection Themes

Lacan describes his project as a “return to Freud”, but he also speaks before and after Freud. We must ask, what exactly is the connection between Lacan and Freud? We venture an answer by examining the connection themes between their human designs.

Lacan and Freud were both Manifesting Generators, a variation on the Generator type. In Human Design, “types” describe modes of being.20 As the name implies, a “Generator” functions with an “open and enveloping aura” as a creative force in the world. The signature of the Generator type is the defined Sacral center, described as a fertile power of creativity and sexuality. A Manifesting Generator is further defined by a motor-to-Throat connection.21

In Lacan’s design, the Solar Plexus motor is connected to the Throat via the Channel of Transitoriness (35-36), and the Sacral motor is connected to the Throat via the Channel of Charisma (20-34). In Freud’s design, the Solar Plexus motor is connected to the Throat via the Channel of Openness (12-22).

When Lacan and Freud’s designs are layered upon each other, all nine centers are defined, forming a complete connection.22 This theme is further examined via four possible categories of connection between the nine centers: electromagnetic, compromise, companionship, and dominance channels.23

Electromagnetic Channels: Where Two Ends Meet

Lacan and Freud’s connection forms six electromagnetic channels:

• Beat (2-14)

• Initiation (51-25)

• Power (34-57)

• Perfected Form (10-57)

• The Brain Wave (57-20)

• Logic (63-4).

This is a significant number of connections that reveals the “spark” between them. Through these six channels, we can see the specific ways in which Lacan and Freud complement each other.

In addition, there are four compromise channels, five dominance channels, and no companionship channels.

Compromised Channels: A Conflictual Dynamic

Freud is compromised by three of Lacan’s channels:

• Transitoriness (35-36)

• Transformation (54-32)

• Structuring (43-23)

Lacan is only compromised by one of Freud’s channels:

• Openness (12-22).

Dominance Channels: Experiencing the Other

While compromised channels suggests potential conflict, dominance channels allow a person to be experienced as they are, outside of the connection. In the cloistered context of the 9-0 connection, dominance provides an outlet. Freud is dominated by three of Lacan’s channels:

• Charisma (20-34)

• Exploration (10-34)

• Awakening (20-10)

While Lacan is dominated by two of Freud’s channels:

• Inspiration (8-1)

• Preservation (27-50)

Freud and Jung: Connections and Splits

For context, we can note that Freud and Jung’s connection theme is a 7-2 (“work to do”) with four electromagnetic channels, four compromise channels, and three dominance channels. Their four electromagnetic channels are:

• Transitoriness (35-36)

• Initiation (51-25)

• The Prodigal (33-13)

• Emoting (39-55)

In terms of compromise, Jung compromises Freud with three channels:

• Maturation (34-52)

• The Alpha (31-7)

• Perfected Form (10-57)

Freud compromises Jung with:

• Preservation (27-50).

In terms of dominance, it is Freud who dominates Jung with two channels:

• Inspiration (8-1)

• Openness (12-22),

while Jung dominates Freud with one channel:

• Recognition (30-41).

Lastly, we can note that the Freud-Lacan and Freud-Jung connections share the electromagnetic Channel of Initiation (51-25). A full analysis of the channel connections between Lacan and Freud (and Freud and Jung) is a worthy exploration that I only note for now.

In addition to their type resonance, Lacan and Freud have compatible profiles. Human design views sequential profiles as being compatible. Lacan is a 3/5 profile and Freud is a 4/6 profile, placing them in a compatible sequence to each other. However, in this sequence, Lacan precedes Freud, signifying the nature of his “return” as a prophecy.

V. Lacan as Prophet: The Future of Psychoanalysis

The term “prophet” comes from the Greek prophētēs, meaning “interpreter, expounder”. Examined at its root, pro means “before” and phētēs means “speaker”. Therefore, a prophet is “one who speaks before”. In a discourse titled “Guru As Prophet”, Adi Da explores the prophetic function of the spiritual teacher:

In the world, generally, [the Guru] must serve the crisis of understanding, which confounds the search, all need for consolation, fascination, all need for cultural and cultic games. In the world he may function, if he appears at all, in the role of the prophet, which is essentially an aggravation, a criticism, an undermining of the usual life.24

Adi Da views the public function of a teacher as “prophet and critic”. Clarifying his usage, Adi Da notes that the true meaning of prophet is not a psychic function of foretelling the future, but a critical function that undermines the egoic mechanism:

When I speak of the function of the man of understanding as prophet, it is in that sense, as critic, not as someone who exercises secondary psychic powers to foretell the future.

. . . The true prophet doesn’t lead a person to align himself with karmic destiny. He leads him always toward a radical new position relative to the whole force of his ordinary life.25

In the opening remarks of Television, Lacan indirectly speaks to his role as prophet:

. . . There is no difference between television and the public before whom I’ve spoken for a long time now, a public known at my seminar. A single gaze in both cases: a gaze to which, in neither case, do I address myself, but in the name of which I speak.

Do not, however, get the idea that I address everyone at large. I am speaking to those who are savvy, to the nonidiots, to the supposed analysts.26

Lacan’s seminars were famously open to the public and became a center of Parisian intellectual life. In this sense, Lacan maintained the paradoxical gaze of the prophet: at once looking at the public while speaking in private. Therefore, the prophetic gaze also stands at the juncture of the public and the private, the exoteric and the esoteric, the universal and the personal.

Prophet as critic is prophet as heretic, and thus prophet as martyr. Lacan functions as a prophet because his return to Freud uncovers a prior truth that feeds the future of psychoanalysis. By undermining the egoic strictures that contain the unconscious, Lacan points to the structure that speaks behind thought, a sound waiting to be heard in the real.

I. The Alchemical Opus of Astrology

Alchemy is the gentle acceleration of growth through the use of the fire of nature.
—Paracelsus

Astrology has an alchemical opus, a work in common with psychology and medicine. In order for astrology to realize its therapeutic function, it needs a language that captures the imagination of its therapeutic. Alchemy is the language of medical and psychological astrology. Alchemical language is common to all therapies because “alchemical language is a mode of therapy; it is itself therapeutic”.1 Alchemy is the universal articulation, the nature and the process. Alchemy enlivens theory into practice, practice into art.

“Alchemy” is related to the Egyptian kēme, meaning “black earth”. In the Sanskrit language, astrology is known as jyotiṣa, meaning “light”. Alchemy and astrology are concerned with the play of light and darkness. Light is fire, the prima materia of Heaven and Earth. Fire is the alchemical fuse, the tapas of transformation.

In astrology, the natal image is prima materia, an original substance to be rendered and refined in the fire of life. Astrology bears the tension of determinism and free will, inheritance and individuation, character and calling. Fire is the only determination burning between the space of opposites. Our endowment is an archetypal image, awaiting transformation.

Alchemy is the fire of the gods. The nine planets are alchemical images; archetypes of transformation. “Each of the major metals corresponds with one of the seven planetary bodies that influence the soul by means of their exhalations, the pneuma, breath or inspiration, that give specific qualities to the work”.2 Sun is gold, agni, celestial fire, vital impetus, creative principle, life-fire, coagulation, citrinitas. Moon is silver, soma, rasa, essence, substance, reflection, distillation. Mars is iron, pitta, ministerial fire, separation, rubedo. Mercury is quicksilver, water, buddhi, discriminative intelligence, fermentation. Jupiter is tin, guru, wood, vertical growth, horizontal expansion, dissolution. Venus is copper, śukra, white essence, seminal seed, metal, conjunction, albedo. Saturn is lead, shani, earth, heavy, death, calcination, nigredo.

These seven visible planets give astrology its alchemical foundation, but its magnum opus is the two invisible planets—the north and south nodes of the Moon. “Node” comes from the Latin nodus, meaning “knot”. In mathematics, a node is the point at which a curve intersects itself. In astronomy, a node represents the intersection between a planetary orbit and the plane of the ecliptic. In alchemy, a node is a substantial knot, a metallic inertia awaiting activation.

Therefore, the lunar nodes depict the knots of the psyche. Rahu is north node; the spirit of evolution; eros calling from eternity; nigredo of the soul. Ketu is south node; the substance of ancestry; inheritance; karmic treasure; albedo of the spirit. Their infusion is a blue flame of finality; a unio mentalis; materia medica of the psyche; pharmakon of the soul, refined and realized.

II. Mythology and Alchemy: Demon, Daimon, and Node

The lunar nodes are an archetypal image of the psyche as an alchemical process. In myth, the lunar nodes are depicted as a serpent (or dragon) who has been severed in half. In the Purānic myth of “churning the ocean” (samudra manthana), Vishnu churns the ocean of milk into the nectar of immortality (amṛta) and offers it to the gods. The demon svarabhānu disguises himself as a god, so as to receive the nectar bestowed upon the gods by Vishnu. A drop of nectar fell upon the demon’s lips before Vishnu recognized its deception. In retribution, Vishnu severed svarabhānu in half, immortalizing the demon in division.

The churning of the ocean is an alchemical portrayal. Vishnu is the divine fire (agni) transforming the ocean of milk (soma) into spiritual nectar (amṛta). Churning carries the spirit of fire—it purifies, lightens, and refines. When milk is churned, it is refined into butter. When butter is boiled, it becomes ghee. Churning is the image of circumambulation and circulation. The substance to be transformed lives in the middle and is continually encircled, conducted and changed.

Severance is the image of desire and dissolution, of separation and conjunction. Svarabhānu is desirous of divine nectar, and deceives to attain it. “Alchemy starts in desire; desire needs direction”.3 Svarabhānu is a Promethean archetype, stealer of fire from the gods. In severance, svarabhānu attains negation, and “negation brings fluidity”.4 The negation of svarabhānu frees the libido to discover its direction. Samudra manthana becomes solve et coagula. Severance is decapitation, the separation of mind from body. Decapitation is the separatio that liberates the psyche. Svarabhānu means “radiant splendor”. In severance, svarabhānu becomes Rahu and Ketu, shadow planets and eclipsing nodes. Decapitation makes darkness.

“What can release the soul from its somber identification?” This is the question posed in every analysis, and posed during the nigredo moments of every life. The alchemist answer: decapitation. According to Jung, the black spirit is to be beheaded, an act that separates understanding from its identification with suffering. Because, “in the nigredo the brain turns black,” decapitation “emancipates that cogitatio.”5

The one becomes two. “Blackness remains, but the distinction from head and body creates a two, while suffering imprisons in singleness”.6 In separation, “the mind may begin to recognize what the body only senses”.7 Decapitation is an allowance of suffering, a submission to dualism that ultimately unifies. Decapitation is the necessary separatio that precedes coniunctio. From separation, comes conjunction. “Decapitation allows the mind to cogitate the darkness”.8 Severance is the death that enables rebirth.

Rahu and Ketu embody the image of division. An alchemical view would transform their isolation into unity and their division into wholeness. Wholeness becomes the metaphor of healing and the image of integration. Integration is not merely a union of opposites, but a sublimation of opposites in their intrinsic nature. The lunar nodes are not the fated opposites, but alchemical separations whose mixture can only fuse in the fire of destiny. The demon dissolves and the daimon coagulates.

Rahu and Ketu become visible in the form of eclipses. Therefore, eclipses represent the phenomenology of the psyche, the omens of our alchemy. As obscurations of the two luminaries, eclipses have been regarded not as omens, but ominous signs; not as opportunities, but provocations. In Tibetan medicine, planets and spirits are both regarded as demonological influences with the power to provoke and possess—they are potential etiological factors, or “provocations” (gdön). For this reason, therapies that puncture the skin are contraindicated during eclipses. (Other therapies are not forbidden but strongly discouraged, because their efficacy is “obscured” during an eclipse.) In India, bathing is contraindicated during an eclipse, because bathing opens the pores of the skin, allowing the “pathogen” to enter the body. Eclipses are seen as pathogenic factors that one should avoid exposing oneself to in the same way that one avoids a cold wind.

Alchemy gives psychological value to darkness and light. Therefore, the lunar nodes become valuable when we interpret them alchemically. When the lunar nodes are seen as demon, they possess us, seizing our destiny from us. When the lunar nodes are seen as daimon, they empower us, becoming guardians of our destiny. In alchemy, our weaknesses become our strengths, not merely our sicknesses. The mythology of the lunar nodes illustrates the need to pathologize, to restore the “tragic sense of life”, to render a therapeutic that transforms the rudiments of life into a poiesis of the soul.

The root of eclipse is the Greek ekleipein, literally “to fail to appear”. The shadow is not merely without light, it is without consciousness. It asks to be seen again—re-visioned and re-cognized. We are fated by all that we exclude from consciousness and we suffer in isolation. If we speak of the lunar nodes with an alchemical tongue, then they become a psychological phenomenon and a therapeutic encounter. Rahu and Ketu are no longer the demons that possess our fate, but the daimon that delivers our destiny.

III. South Node: Ancestral Treasure, Alchemical Substance

Ketu, the south node of the Moon, represents the full spectrum of ancestral and karmic inheritance. In Daoist alchemy, the psychic constitution is xing, the innate nature, the prima materia, the fatum that becomes the destinata. The dragon is said to guard an alchemical treasure, a philosopher’s stone and wish-fulfilling jewel. Dragon is related to the Sanskrit root drś-, meaning “to see”. The dragon swallows the Sun to coagulate its inner fire, eclipses to re-vision, separates to rejoin, disappears to be born again. Ketu is the tail of the dragon, body without head, eros without psyche. Ketu has no sight, and no destiny. Ketu is character, not calling. Character is salt and suffering; calling is light in darkness. The dragon guards the gate of our destiny, ancestral treasure in tooth and claw. The past is our secret image, the prima materia of the psyche. The energy of our ancestors is the essence of our life-force, the family jewel, the karmic treasure. Therefore, the ancestral treasure is not only a notion, it is a substance; it is not only guarded, it awaits transformation.

Daoist alchemy pictures the human being as an alchemical vessel, containing and separating, standing between Heaven and Earth, with three treasures in its burning spaces. The alchemical body has its centers and seas, where essences are churned into elixirs. The vital center of the body is located between the “moving spaces” of the Kidneys. The vital center is known as mingmen, “the gate of life-destiny”, the embodied center of character and calling. The source-energy of the whole body is burns in the mingmen. Mingmen is the fire beneath the cauldron. Mingmen is the principle of transformation. Thus, the human body is not an entity, but a process, a unifier of opposition, a motion in tandem.

In Daoist alchemy, the “three treasures” of jing (essence), qi (energy), and shen (spirit) are alchemical substances transformed by the flame of destiny. Jing is the ancestral essence seated in the Kidneys and concentrated in the navel. The Kidneys store jing and the mingmen transforms it. Jing is the essence of our ancestors; soma; substance and treasure. Jing is divided into pre-natal and post-natal aspects: pre-natal jing is ancestral, inherited, constitutional, the province of Ketu; post-natal jing is individual, acquired, conditional, the province of Rahu. Pre-natal jing is inherited from the vital essences of the parents; post-natal jing is acquired from food. Ketu is xing, the innate image; Rahu is ming, the heavenly mandate.

The three treasures are an alchemical idea, a fluid concept, able to change its shape in context and consciousness. The three treasures are forces, substances, densities, depths, stages, and origins. The three treasures are a spectrum of vitality that continually creates itself. Jing, qi, and shen circulate in the body in a circle of conductivity, known as the “microcosmic orbit”. The microcosmic orbit is formed by the arcs of two embryological vessels—the Conception Vessel (ren mai) and Governor Vessel (du mai). Ketu corresponds to the Governor Vessel, the spinal line, that which is behind us, the return of the soul to Heaven. Rahu corresponds to the Conception Vessel, the frontal line, the path of incarnation, the second birth, the infusion of heavenly mandate.

The dynamic of Rahu and Ketu is the circulatio, the movement between ancestry and individuation, the transformation of fate into destiny. Therefore, the acceptance of our inheritance—karmic, genetic, personal, and collective—is the work symbolized by the south node. There is no future without a present constellated by its past. Fated life means unconscious life, suffering and singleness, bland monotheism, an unlived body with a desolate psyche.

Through Ketu, we inherit weakness and wounds, strengths and cures. Ancestral wounds are simultaneously personal and impersonal. A wound is where the one becomes two. The wounds of the psyche are never truly healed, they remain potentials in separatio, awaiting the mysterious coniunctio. Ketu is the agency of our ancestral wounds, Rahu is the salt that ripens them. Trauma means “wound”. A wound is not merely a hurt, but an opportunity for opening. The wounds of the psyche need not be fissures, but vales in the psyche. Then history, experience, karma, and trauma leave the mummery of memory to come alive in alchemy.

The key to psychological healing is discovered in alchemical language. Astrology is an alchemical psychology, giving us the keys to character and calling, the visions of fate and destiny. By understanding the natal placement of Ketu, we gain insight into the nature and pattern of our karmic inheritance in personal, familial, collective, cultural, and historical terms. Ketu needs our conscious validation. What we fail to consciously validate is unconsciously projected, eclipsing our life. Alchemy is an esoteric image, a dynamic in which fate and destiny are constellated, not possessed. Destiny is discovered in the spirit of evolution, the creative instinct that moves us in a consciousness of the past that becomes the vision of our future.

IV. North Node: The Spirit of Evolution

Rahu is the north node of the Moon, the unseen image, hidden at the gate of life’s destiny. The north node is the progressive vision, the unknown mythos of the psyche, the eros guiding it to a new totality of being. The north node is not inherited, it is alchemically made, distilled from the ashes of the past. Through its agency, we are born again. “That the material itself asks to be refined, the raw wanting to be cooked, suggests an archetypal basis for the ideas of perfectibility, progress, and as well, evolution”.9

The lunar nodes are often interpreted as symbols of a linear process—first the south node, then the north node. However, we misunderstand their meaning when we place them merely in sequence. In truth, the lunar nodes represent a simultaneity, a mutual unfolding. Alchemy implies mutuality, melting, and mixture—where boundaries of distinction become fluid transparencies. The lunar nodes do not merely oppose each other, they blend into and become each other. The lunar nodes represent the bi-directional vectors of our life. We are at once reclaiming our past and pursuing our future, accepting our fate and envisioning destiny, embodying ancestors and becoming autonomous.

The influence of the lunar nodes marks the “second birth” that is associated with “mid life”. In the Jungian schema, human life is divided into four stages: childhood (0-12), youth (13-40), middle life (41-60), old age (60+). In Indian astrology, planetary energies are said to “mature” at specific ages: Jupiter at 16, Sun at 21, Moon at 24, Venus at 25, Mars at 27, Mercury at 32, Saturn at 36, Rahu at 42, and Ketu at 48. “Maturation” indicates ripeness, fruition, actualization—planets breathe the fullness of their life into the human vessel. If we align the Jungian and Indian schemas, then all the planetary maturations preceding Rahu and Ketu unfold during “youth”. The maturation of the lunar nodes marks the end of youth and the beginning of “mid-life”. The placing of nodal maturity within the forties validates the observation of mid-life as a period of crisis, the nigredo stage, the “dark night of the soul”.

Why does Rahu mature before Ketu? Ketu is usually seen as a foundational value that precedes Rahu. The maturation of Rahu before Ketu is an apparent reversal that reveals another layer of meaning. Rahu is the agency of transformation, the nigredo, the black before the white. Ketu is the agency of liberation, the albedo, white illumination after a period of darkness. In Indian astrology, Ketu is described as the mokṣa-kāraka, the “signifier of spiritual liberation”. Since Ketu represents the karmic spectrum of our experience, it becomes the meridian of their release. The dark night of the soul is the essential passage leading to our psychic liberation. Thus, the forties become the alchemical decade of our lives, where mutual opposition is cooked in a crucible and the psyche is impregnated with the eros of destiny.

We can also divide our life between the nodes—where ages 0-40 correspond to Ketu and 41+ corresponds to Rahu. According to this measure, our libido primarily resides in the south node during the first half of life and is concentrated in the north node during the second half of life. When the north node matures at 42, our early-life is thrown in thanatos, until eros re-awakens the desire and direction of our libido. A condition of wholeness emerges from one-sidedness, one becomes two so the two can become one. If we do not follow the vital impetus of the north node, then our libido remains in the past, our psyche appears one-sided, and soul fails to be made. According to Jung, neurosis is a “one-sided development of personality” and a “necessary characteristic of the directed process”.10 Individuation is the realization of wholeness, the inclusion of all sides. Our live moves from half to whole, from side to circle, from separatio to circulatio.

If our early life is lived from the vantage point of the south node, then the north node is being unconsciously repressed. “I do because I repress or I repress because I do”.11 If the north node is given the value of evolutionary truth, then it appears favorable. But if we pursue the north node in isolation, we unconsciously repress the south node. We lose our inheritance, negate our past, and sever our roots. Alchemical language transcends sidedness in “things-words, image-words, craft-words”.12 The nodes cease to be sides and become things, they cease to be objects and become images, the cease to be ideas and become crafts in the “poiesis of the hand”.13 Then we can understand that the south node is not merely “south”, “past”, or “karmic”, but substance; the north node is not merely “node”, “future”, or “developmental”, but the fire that anneals our destiny.

Individuation is an alchemical process, requiring submission to fire and surrender to darkness. “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious”.14 Rahu exposes wounds and makes us wander in the unknown forest of our own psyche. The suffering of Rahu is the salt in our wounds, the sizzling metal, the bubbling spring. “There is no coming to consciousness without pain”.15 These pains are the birth pangs of destiny, coming to life. We need to be born again because we are merely incarnate, not embodied. Birth is a symbol of wholeness, and death a symbol of severance. The lunar nodes are severed in myth—their integrity is only recovered in life. The psyche is historical and alchemical—and eros is the creative instinct that throws our history into the cauldron of destiny.

Life calls for our awakening. The lunar nodes are not understood in any compartment of belief or specialized context of knowledge. Their greatest insights are found in the discovery of life itself, in salt and suffering, in living and loving.

V. Blue Fire: Colors, Kosmos, and the Unio Mentalis

As shadowing influences, the lunar nodes correspond to nigredo, the blackened ash of an alchemical fire, the dark night of the soul, the dark side of the albedo Moon. In unison, the nodes are the radiant splendor of svarabhānu, the alchemical brightness of the soul. Between nigredo and albedo is the transitional hue of blue.

Blue is the alchemical resolution, the fusion of two into one. “After the black comes blue” because “the blues bring the body back with a revisioned feeling, head and body rejoined”.16 Blue is an illumined darkness, a “blue shadow behind and within all things”.17 Blue is “blacker than black”, the curative hue—“like cures like; we cure the nigredo by becoming . . . blacker than black”.18 When Vishnu churned the ocean of milk, he transformed poison into nectar, and held the poison in his throat. Vishnu is the adept who holds the the fire in his throat, the blue god, nīlakantha—the blue-throated one.

Blue is a common color given to deities in the Hindu and Buddhist pantheon (Vishnu, Rama, Krishna, Shiva, Medicine Buddha, Ekajatī, Acala). Blue gods are archetypes of inner cosmic visions, images of an alchemical fire. Krishna literally means “black” or “dark blue”. Krishna is the eighth Avatar of Vishnu and is famously depicted in a glowing blue color. The term krishna is also used to describe the waning cycle of the Moon (krishna paksha), where it transmits the meaning of “darkness” again.

As a god, Krishna is a lunar archetype. Artistic depictions give Krishna a feminine appearance, and he is portrayed as a flute-playing cow herder, whose song calls the cows to him. Krishna is also depicted as a child who is especially fond of butter. The cow and its white substances are symbols of soma. Krishna is thus between nigredo and albedo—Krishna is nīla, the cow and its offerings are albedo, the lunar essence is the soma cooked in a blue fire.

In the meaning and image of Krishna, we see the co-mingling of black and blue, of nigredo and nīla. The close relationship between black and blue is also found in Chinese five-element theory (wu xing), where the color of the Water element is described variously as “black” and “blue”. In the Nan Jing, the color of the Water element is given as “black”, but in five-element acupuncture, the color is most commonly given as “blue”. J.R. Worsley speaks to the nuance of colors:

In everyday life we speak of water often enough, but pay little heed to the great variety of ways in which it manifests. Sometimes it is blue, sometimes white, sometimes silver, sometimes black; sometimes it is still, sometimes flowing, sometimes raging, sometimes frozen, sometimes boiling. All these different manifestations belong to the essence and nature of water.19

Wherever there is color, there is alchemy. The Chinese word xing has been commonly translated as “element”, but xing possess a range of meanings: xing means movement, planet, phase, stage, step, substance. The five elements are stages in an alchemical cycle of transformation and the substances transformed therein. Each element is associated with a color—Wood is green, Fire is red, Earth is yellow, Metal is white, Water is blue. Light is the essence of fire, therefore fire is the basis of all color, the agni in the soma. The five elements are thus five flames, five contexts of transmutation. Fire is the means of alchemy, color is the reflection of its process. The green fuse lights a red-yellow flame that glows white before burning blue at highest heat.

In inner vision, adepts have perceived the cosmos as a mandala of colored lights. In the last century, such visions have been described in detail by Paramahansa Yogananda, Swami Muktananda, and Adi Da. Yogananda described his cosmic vision as the “spiritual eye”, comprised of a white five-pointed star in the center of a blue field surrounded by a yellow halo, and set in the context of a black background. Swami Muktananda described a similar mandala of lights as a “red glow”, a “white flame”, a “black light”, and a “blue pearl”. Adi Da described the following colorful vision to Swami Muktananda:

I told him that a spot of light had often appeared before me in meditation—sometimes black or silver-gray, and sometimes blue. I also described a vision in which I saw the muladhar appear below me as a Siva-lingam. Then I appeared below, my hands tied to the lingam in a gesture of prayer, pointing above . . . I asked Baba if I had received the true meaning of the experience. He only said: “Yes. The experience was true. Concentrate in the sahasrar if you like. The Shakti will do everything. The spot you saw is blue. It only appears black because of impurities.”20

The colors in Adi Da’s vision can be seen in correspondence with alchemical tradition. Black is impure until it is fired, then it becomes charcoal, the purest of fuels. Adi Da describes the “spot of light” as black, silver-gray, and blue—three colors that are alchemically related to each other. We already explored the relationship between black and blue, but what of silver? Hillman writes that “silver’s color was not only white but blue” and that “we may consider blue a transitional color, either resulting from the suffering of silver (salt and vinegar) or resulting in silver”.21

Adi Da’s vision of the cosmic mandala includes red, yellow, soft-white, black, blue, and white colors. He associates the rings of the cosmic mandala with the Vedāntic schema of the three dimensions and five koshas as follows:

• red | annamayakośa | gross

• yellow | prānamayakośa | subtle

• white | manomayakośa | subtle

• blue | vijñānamayakośa | subtle

The black ring and the white five-pointed star are not given koshic correlations. Instead, the black ring is described as a “transitional space, where mental activity is suspended” and the white five-pointed star is the “Very Center” of the cosmic mandala.22 The two white colors are differentiated from each other—between yellow and black is the “soft-white” ring, while the five-pointed star is “brilliant white”. The causal is not represented because it is regarded as the formless and unmanifest dimension of existence, the “void in the vessel”.

Adi Da’s cosmic mandala resonates with Hillman’s regard for blue as a “transitional color”—blue stands between the black and white, and thus contains aspects of both. Blue is between, but also above because the cosmic mandala is a vertical hierarchy, where red is below and physical and blue is above. Swami Muktananda gave the “blue pearl” primary significance, associating its vision with spiritual salvation. He describes his vision in the following passage:

While revolving, the pupils of both the eyes became centered on the cranial region. The eyeballs rolled upwards and then downwards. This was followed immediately by a momentary appearance of the tiny, resplendent Blue Pearl, shaped like a sesame seed, which shot out of the eyes like a lightning flash and returned to its seat within . . . It moved even faster and more briskly than a flash of lightning. As I beheld it, many expectations were aroused: will Rama, Krishna, or my supreme deity, Parashiva, appear within it?23

After the vision of the blue pearl, Muktananda says, “the inner soul was contented”. For him, the inner vision of the blue pearl represented the highest spiritual possibility, a direct perception of the “indwelling Soul”, the doorway to the “Self”. Thus, the yogic visions of the adepts reveal to us the true nature of alchemy as an image of inner transformation, where the colors of the psyche bleed and blend between the spectrum of the soul.

The cosmos is colored, and so are its gods. In the Brihat Parashara Hora Shastra (a source-text of Vedic astrology), Rahu and Ketu, are described in a single verse as “smoky” and “dark-bodied”:

Smoky, dark bodied, forest dwelling, terrible, of vāta nature, and intelligent is Rāhu; similar is Ketu.24

Rahu and Ketu are “smoky” in the metaphorical image of a misty haze, but they are also “smoky” in the alchemical image of a fired transformation. They dwell in the mythical dark forest, the nigredo of the hero’s journey. Rahu and Ketu are referred to as “dark-bodied”—the Sanskrit word employed in this verse is nīla, the same word we examined earlier in nīlakantha. Nīla is variously translated as “blue”, “dark blue”, and “black-blue”. Nīla is an alchemical invocation, the image that encompasses black and blue.

In Graha Sutras, Ernst Wilhelm notes that Ketu is also referred to as sikhin (“pointed flame”) and anala (“belonging to the god of fire”). Ketu is the south node of the Moon and the “tail” of svarabhānu, but Ketu also refers to comets. Wilhelm writes:

Upon the severance of Svarbhanu, not only Ketu, but also all comets are thought to have come from Svarbhanu’s lower half.25

Ketu as “pointed flame” describes the visible phenomenon of a comet, itself an icy body that enters a gaseous state when moving in proximity to the Sun. Comets are thus an aspect of Ketu’s meaning, and the different colors of comets are given astrological interpretation.26 The flame-like nature of Ketu is also evident in the astrological adage: “Ketu behaves like Mars, Rahu behaves like Saturn”. Ketu has the nature of fire, and this is most evident in its association with the gaseous comet. Natural gas is colorless, but it burns blue. A blue flame has more oxygen than a red-yellow flame—more air, more breath.27 Blue is thus the color of complete combustion, while red-yellow is the color of incomplete combustion, soot that remains. Therefore, Rahu and Ketu are not only the symbols of darkness, they are the blue fire that completes our transformation.

Black and white are the basic form of duality, nigredo and albedo in alternation. Transformation is not merely the union of opposites, it is a realization of what is prior to opposites but which nonetheless lives between them. A silver Moon with lazuli nodes. Blue is the fire of our soul, the eye of our spirit, the incendiary heart beckoning in our throats. The dragon chases its own tail, and eats it, at last. The lunar nodes are the alchemical opus of astrology, fueled by a blue fire, burning between black and white, fate and destiny, soul and spirit—a unio mentalis in perfectus coincidentia.

This essay follows on “Outer Planets, Inner Patterns”, in which I explored the archetypal meanings of Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto as context for my examination here of Pluto’s current ingress in Aquarius.

I. Revolutionary Change: Historical Patterns of the Pluto-Aquarius Cycle

Pluto enters Aquarius on January 20, after spending the last 15 years in Capricorn. Pluto will briefly retrograde into Capricorn later this year—from September 1 - November 19—before beginning its 20-year cycle in Aquarius. Unlike most planets, Pluto moves irregularly through the zodiac, spending anywhere from 11 - 30 years in a single sign and 132 - 360 years to complete a zodiacal revolution.

Thus, we have two views of the Pluto cycle: the micro-cycle of its ingress in a single sign and the macro-cycle of its movement through the entire zodiac. The micro-cycle of Pluto’s movement ingress in Aquarius is situated within the larger cycle of its previous transits in Aquarius, most recently nearly 300 years ago.

An examination of past Pluto-Aquarius cycles indicate periods of reform, innovation, and revolution. Some key events from these past cycles include:

• 60 CE: the time of the Boudican Revolt by Celtic Britons against the Roman Empire.

• 305 - 329 CE: the reign of the Roman Emperor, Constantine, which ushered a period of religious tolerance via the Edict of Milan (313 CE).

• 795 - 819 CE: the reign of Charlemagne, initiating a period of lasting socio-political reform and an expansion of cultural activity via the Carolignian Renaissance.

• 1041 - 1063 CE: the Great Schism of 1054, dividing Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox faiths; the invention of movable type printing by the Chinese alchemist Bi Sheng between 1041-1048.

• 1286 - 1308 CE: the end of the Mamluk Dynasty, the Edict of Expulsion by King Edward I expelling Jewish peoples from England, the end of the Singhasari Kingdom, the English invasion of Scotland in 1296 and the ensuring War of Scottish Independence, the establishing of the Ottoman Empire, the advent of manuscript culture, and the invention of eyeglasses.

• 1532 - 1553 CE: the Protestant Reformation, the founding of the Jesuit Order in 1540, the birth of Akbar the Great (1542), Copernicus publishes his theory of a heliocentric universe (1543), the Italian War of 1542-1546.

This list is by no means exhaustive, but it illustrates some of the correlation between Pluto-Aquarius cycles and periods of cultural transformation.

The most recent Pluto-Aquarius cycle was also a period of marked social and cultural change. This 20-year cycle (1777 - 1798) was an intense period that saw the American, French, and Industrial Revolutions; the Northwest Indian War (1785 - 1795); the discovery of Uranus (1781); and the administration of the first smallpox vaccine by Edward Jenner (1796). Several notable publications also characterize the intellectual revolution of this time period: Kant’s Critique of Reason (1781), the first published theory of black holes by John Michell (1783), the U.S. Constitution (1787), the Bill of Rights (1789), William Blake’s The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1790), and Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Women (1792). We can see that the overall pattern of the Pluto-Aquarius cycle features themes of independence, warfare, revolt, innovation, and renaissance.

Tarnas views the events of the late 18th and 20th centuries within the extended context of the Uranus-Pluto cycle, noting the only Uranus-Pluto conjunction of the 20th century (1960-1972) and the atmosphere of social liberation and counterculture that pervaded it. Tarnas considers a similar dynamic at play amidst the 18th century Uranus-Pluto opposition (1787-1798), noting the tumultuous parallels between the decades of the 1960s and the French Revolution in particular. His study of outer planetary cycles and cultural history makes a case for an observable correlative dynamic between outer planets and the forces of collective change.1 In particular, Tarnas examines these two revolutionary periods via the development of several social movements: feminism and women’s movements, civil rights movements, nonviolent civil disobedience, and radical socialism.2 He also notes a concurrent technological revolution:

. . . the entire sequence of Uranus-Pluto alignment periods in the modern era that we have been examining in terms of revolutionary social and political phenomena happened to be eras marked by equally significant scientific and technological revolutions and advances . . . .3

There is an inherent difficulty in focusing too narrowly on astrological phenomena, and that is the issue of dynamics. The 18th century Pluto-Aquarius cycle is not attributable only to Pluto’s ingress, but represents a dynamic interaction between Uranus and Pluto—or what Tarnas calls the “collective empowerment (Pluto) of the Promethean impulse (Uranus)”.4

We are not currently within a Uranus-Pluto cycle (either by conjunction or opposition), but during the Pluto-Aquarius cycle, Uranus will successively enter the signs of Gemini (2025), Cancer (2032), and Leo (2039). While Uranus is in Cancer and Leo, it will form an oppositional dynamic with Pluto.

In the square orientation of the South Indian astrological chart, Cancer and Aquarius are horizontal opposites. This constitutes a dynamic of “opposition” that is not entirely identical to the Western astrological idea of planetary opposition. Seven years later, Uranus will enter Leo, another “opposite” of Aquarius. Leo and Aquarius are diagonal opposites, each placed in angle to the other, with mirroring qualities. This is to say that the latter period of the Pluto-Aquarius cycle (2032 - 2043) will be within the orb of Uranian influence for 14 years in what is bound to be an especially heightened period of social and cultural change.

II. Kumbha: Aquarius, Amrita, and the Storage of Water

Symbolically, Aquarius encompasses the collective—culture, society, humanity. As the “Water-Bearer”, Aquarius is an instrument of nourishment, upliftment, blessing and provision. In Indian astrology, the Aquarian image is often illustrated by the Purānic myth of Vishnu churning the ocean of milk into the nectar of immortality (amṛta). Vishnu becomes the “Water-Bearer”, holding a vase filled with the nectar of immortality in universal offering. There are a few versions of this myth: in one version, Śiva holds the poison produced by Vishnu’s churning in his throat, which turned him blue. This story establishes Śiva as an immortality symbol—the holder and transformer of poison, the Tantric god.

In Aquarius, we see the Vishnu-force of sustenance, bringing nectar to all of life. We also see the Śiva-force of transformation, the conversion of poison into nectar, “death” as an avenue of continual rebirth. As a Plutonian archetype, Śiva represents the alchemical nature of Pluto’s influence—the harbinger of death and rebirth, of destruction and renewal, of Thanatos and a new current of Eros.

In the classical source-text of Indian astrology, Brihat Parashara Hora Shastra, we find the following descriptions of Aquarius:

Kumbha is a jar-holding man, deep brown, (bhabru) color, medium bodied, two-footed, vigorous during day, standing in the middle of water, airy, Front Rising, Tamasic, a Sudra, abiding in the western region and Lorded by the son of the Sun.5

Kumbha means “pitcher” and is the Sanskrit term for Aquarius, a clear reference to the Water-Bearer. In Indian culture, kumbha is a religious symbol, referring to a clay vessel used to store holy water (especially from the Ganges River). The river goddess Ganga, an Aquarian archetype, is traditionally depicted holding a kumbha. This clay pot is equally a fertility symbol—an image of the womb (or cosmic container) and the potter (or creator). The kumbha is also a cauldron, a cooking pot where an amalgam of materials is unified into a single substance. According to one myth, the first kumbha was created by Prajāpati during Śiva’s marriage while another myth recapitulates Vishnu’s churning of the ocean as the origin of the first kumbha.

In emphasizing the kumbha (or pitcher), Parashara invokes Aquarius as an archetype of regeneration and nourishment. The fluid metaphors embedded in kumbha are alchemical symbols of the vital essences—rasa / śukra / bindu / ojas—which are refined into an inner elixir of rejuvenation. The immortalization suggested by Aquarius is not necessarily a permanent physical state, but the notion of continuity and renewal, as well as a condition of “timeless” spiritual realization. In Aquarius, we are given an essence that endures, a constant store of vitality that manifests an evolution in consciousness.

Parashara’s descriptors are somewhat elusive, but they hold the keys to understanding an Indian cultural view of Aquarius. In characterizing Aquarius as “two-footed”, Parashara is indicating a human symbol compared to the non-human symbols of other signs. “Vigorous during the day” means Aquarius is endowed with a yang quality—an initiatory, expansive, rising, and creative energy. This stands somewhat in contrast to the watery qualities that typify Aquarius, but this is also contained in Parashara’s description of Aquarius as “standing in the middle of water”. This is the image of Vishnu standing in the ocean of milk, his body rising from the water, kumbha in hand.

“Airy” refers to the association of the Air element with Aquarius; “tamasic” refers to the quality of inertia; and “sudra” references a laborer. From this, we have another mixture of meanings. The air element endows Aquarius with mobility, creativity, and intellect while tamas seems to indicate the opposite. However, an additional meaning of tamas is “darkness” and “ignorance”, issues that are within the Aquarian motivation to lighten humanity. Elsewhere in the text, Aquarius is correlated with vāta dosha, a fixed modality, a cruel6 nature, and the bodily region of the lower leg (knees to ankle).

“Lorded by the son of the Sun” is a reference to Saturn, the ruler of Aquarius. Saturn is an archetype of time and therefore of mortality. Saturn’s exaltation in Venus-ruled Libra suggests the nature of time and karma as the ultimate sources of balance and “justice” in the world. Saturn is the temporal and karmic context of the collective and the higher intentions of service and self-sacrifice.

In addition to the correspondences described by Parashara, I note correspondences from a Chinese medical context: Aquarius as an image of the Bladder. In Chinese medical theory, the twelve organs are described allegorically as officials in a court. Each organ has a province of function and an accompanying physiological pathway. On the nature of the Bladder, Chapter 8 of the Su Wen states:

The urinary bladder is the official functioning as regional rectifier.
The body liquids are stored in it.7

The concept of “rectification” can be understood as “uprightness”. In many respects, it is the Bladder meridian that holds us up, with its pathway traversing up and down the entirety of the back. Heiner Fruehauf has described the Bladder meridian as a cosmo-physiological narrative that illustrates the mythology of Kunlun Mountain—a Daoist paradise that is a metaphor for Kundalini yoga. Kunlun Mountain is notably the name given to the point Bladder-60, the fire point of the Bladder meridian. Kunlun Mountain is an extension of the Indian Mount Meru—the alchemical center of the universe and the crown chakra.

Worsley describes the Bladder as the “official in charge of the storage of water”, a phrase that accurately depicts the nature of Aquarius. This usage points to the Chinese medical idea of the Bladder holding not only urine, but fluid essences as a whole. The Bladder is thus another type of kumbha, a container for the inner resources of an alchemical “rectification”.

III. The Myth of Progress: Death Denial, Death Wish, and Ego Death

Uranus and Pluto represent two vectors of evolutionary movements: the movement toward life and creativity (Eros) and the movement toward death and destruction (Thanatos). Originally Freudian ideas, the motion of Eros and Thanatos describe two contrasting human influences, both of which are necessary in the cycles of life and culture.

As we have seen, the Pluto-Aquarius cycle marries archetypal themes of transformation and restoration, nourishment and destruction, death and rebirth, Eros and Thanatos. In my view, the upcoming Pluto-Aquarius will be accompanied by an emerging focus on the collective in social, cultural, and individual terms. This cycle is bound to bring forward a period of collective changes, as we have seen historically, but the direction of this current is not predetermined. The Pluto-Aquarius cycle could lead to positive social and political reform or it could lead to an intensification of the exact opposite. Directionality depends on human choices and how we respond to the upsurge of psychic material from the unconscious—individually and collectively.

Wilhelm correlates Pluto’s influence with that of “ego death” and the subsequent removal of structures that have exhausted their value. Pluto will bring many old paradigms to an end, but we live in a culture that denies death.8 When necessary dissolution is disallowed, repression comes forward to compensate and bury the unacknowledged ashes of the past. This is why periods of great cultural change are often accompanied by aggression. Pluto’s focus in Aquarius will increase a focus on groups of all kinds—social, political, religious, and spiritual. Movements may rise or fall and this will depend on how well a given collective will acknowledge the unseen, cooperate for a shared purpose, and recognize the nature of unity.

The other side of death-denial is death-wish, and a culture can simultaneously enact both. The Pluto-Aquarius cycle could plunge us deeper into the shadows with an intensifying societal death-wish for more epidemics, ecological devastation, and warfare. The opposite is equally possible: we could see a massive outgrowing of Industrial Age outlooks that lead to consequential positive change in the domains of medicine, ecology, and politics.

If we view Aquarius as a symbol of continuity and persistence, then this next 20-year period could lead to an embrace of sustainable paradigms that ensure a healthy future for the human community as a whole. More than this, Aquarius indicates the need for humanity to recognize its inherent unity as a collective that is now globally self-aware. A humanity-centered consciousness sees beyond the boundaries of identity politics and operates on the basis of a priorly unified body politic (or “everybody-all-at-once”).9

Yet, we are likely to see dual currents of Eros and Thanatos moving in a complex evolutionary dynamic, and both are necessary to effect positive change—something has to fall away for something new to appear. The non-linear nature of this growth-pattern creates difficulty, where micro-regressions are misunderstood as macro-failures, and macro-failures are mistaken for micro-regressions. We have a choice either to “transcend and include” or “transcend and repress”.10 In other words, regression is always a lurking possibility in the latency of the unconscious, making the Pluto-Aquarius cycle a complex period of change and challenge.

In terms of personal impacts, the interpretation of Pluto as a natal transit will be unique to each individual, so I have limited my scope here to a mundane (collective) context. But I will say that Pluto is an important transit for you if you have any self-factors11 in Aquarius and/or if Pluto is transiting your 1st, 4th, 7th, or 10th house cusps. While the transit of Pluto in any house is important to examine, these four houses represent the most personal domains of our life—body, home, relationships, and career—with shifts in these domains altering our life-paths in consequential ways.

It is worth noting that throughout the 20-year Pluto-Aquarius cycle, we can keep our attention on the nodal micro-cycles as well. Currently, the lunar nodes are positioned in Aries / Libra, but they will complete a full circuit of the zodiac during the Pluto-Aquarius cycle. By 2043, the concluding year of the Pluto-Aquarius cycle, the nodes will be back in Aries / Libra. For this reason, I would highlight the period from July 27, 2026 – March 26, 2028—when the north node will be conjunct Pluto—as an amplified micro-cycle early in the Pluto-Aquarius period.

IV. Collective Incarnation: Kali Yuga and a Truly Human World-Culture

Does the transit of Pluto in Aquarius represent the Age of Aquarius? This question seems to arise during any significant planetary transit in Aquarius. I personally do not utilize a concept of an “astrological age” beyond the cosmological yuga cycles proposed by Indian astronomers. According to most yuga-cycle conceptions (calendrical and spiritual), we are still in the Kali Yuga, which has a length of 432,000 solar years (the shortest of the four yuga cycles). In Hindu and Buddhist religions, the Kali Yuga is considered a degenerate age when spiritual ignorance consumes the world.

In The Holy Science, Sri Yukteswar presents a different conception of the yuga cycles. Sri Yukteswar calculates each yuga cycle as an equal period of 12,000 years with descending and ascending cycles within that. Sri Yukteswar’s calculations place the present-time within the ascending Dwapara Yuga cycle spanning (1900 - 3900 CE). In contrast to Sri Yukteswar, Adi Da recognizes the present age as the Kali Yuga, referring to it as the “Late-Time (or Dark Epoch)” throughout his oeuvre.

According to the Hindu doctrine of Avatars, the Divine is said to incarnate in human form during such a dark age, in order to restore the course of humanity. This idea is found in the Bhagavad Gita when Krishna tells Arjuna that he incarnates when “righteousness is on the decline” and Avatarically “manifests . . . from age to age”.12 Aquarius is, in fact, an Avataric archetype—the appearance of a spiritual source that nourishes humankind.

The Avataric concept is also found in the Brihat Parashara Hora Shastra in a chapter titled, “The Narration of Avatars”. In this chapter, Parashara describes the nine Avatars of Hindu doctrine as incarnations of planets: Sun-Rama, Moon-Krishna, Mars-Nrsimha, Mercury-Buddha, Jupiter-Vamana, Venus-Parashurama, Saturn-Kurma, Rahu-Varaha, Ketu-Meena.13 Parashara establishes the manifest influence of the planets as an Avataric influence, mirroring the ancient idea of the heavenly bodies as “gods” presiding over the Earth.

In an early publication, Adi Da offered a nuanced interpretation of “Avatar”, defining it as a concept of collective manifestation:

The world is the Avatar, the totality of human beings is the Avatar.14

Adi Da is referring to the process of collective incarnation—when the Sangha becomes the Buddha, when culture embodies a living truth, together. If the collective is the Avatar, then humanity is the vehicle of a sacred emergence, an incarnation of wholeness that restores righteousness in a degenerate time.

Beyond the myth of progress is a vision of collective incarnation and agency. The initiation of a new Pluto-Aquarius cycle should inspire a vision of brighter possibilities, of a truly human world-culture15, and a revolution of cooperation, tolerance, and peace.16

This essay was written in anticipation of the upcoming transit of Pluto in Aquarius, in order to build a broader context for understanding outer planets. A detailed examination of the Pluto-Aquarius cycle can be found in “Pluto in Aquarius”.

I. Cycles of Development

The outer planets—Uranus, Neptune, Pluto—were later discoveries in the astrological traditions of the world. Each planet was discovered in the last three centuries, respectively—Uranus in the 18th century, Neptune in the 19th century, and Pluto in the 20th century. Astrologers have suggested that the discovery of each planet reflects the emergence of its archetypal meaning in the collective psyche.

Astrology makes meaning out of cycles. The observation of cycles—seasonal, calendrical, and astronomical—is embedded in an agrarian worldview, where the advent of agriculture led to a cyclical conception of human relatedness to the natural world and extended cosmos. In this context, any observable cycle has meaning, including the cycles of the outer planets. Astrology examines the relationships between cycles—individual, collective, and cosmic. The interaction between the cycles of Heaven and Earth became the axis of interpreted influence, the future-oriented mindset of prediction, and an emerging definition of health as a cyclical harmony between inner and outer worlds.

If we look at the outer planets, we observe that Uranus moves through a zodiac sign in 7-year cycles,1 Neptune in 14-year cycles, and Pluto anywhere from 11.5 - 30.5 years. According to Adi Da, the concept of a seven-year cycle of development is an ancient idea found in spiritual cultures:

In the traditions of spiritual culture, the development of a human being has commonly been described in terms of seven stages, each spanning a period of seven years.2

Adi Da points to seven-year cycles as a developmental schema of stages which he refers to as the “seven stages of life”. These seven stages of life correlate with anatomical structures of unfoldment. In the following passage, he notes a correspondence between the “seven stages” and the seven chakras:

The seven primary centers of the human body-mind relate to the seven primary levels of adaptation, integration, and Realization in the case of Man. Adaptation to the whole of existence via each of these centers in succession is the native Process of growth for which we are fitted by virtue of our inherent structure.3

The 14-year cycles of Neptune are an extension of 7-year cycles, where two cycles are effectively nested within one larger cyclical movement. The irregularity of Pluto’s movements defies a convenient identification of a regular cycle, a quality that is perhaps reflective of Pluto’s disruptive influence in general. Keeping in mind the cyclical influences of planets, we will now look to the historical discovery of the outer planets, their observable influence on cultural cycles of change, and their subsequently derived meanings.

II. Historical Discovery, Cultural Revolution, and Archetypal Meanings

According to cultural historian and astrologer, Richard Tarnas, the discovery of Uranus in 1781 corresponded to the age of Enlightenment, the American and French Revolutions, the Industrial Revolution, and the beginning of Romanticism. Tarnas associates Uranus with what he calls a “Promethean archetype”, the qualities of which he posits are evident in the revolutionary and creative cultural atmosphere of the late 18th century.4 Astrologically, Uranus can also be seen in resonance with the Sun—initiation, creative realization, and brilliance. As a solar archetype, Uranus reflects the qualities of change, rebellion, revolution, breakthrough, insight, individuation, innovation, and invention.

Neptune was discovered in 1846, an imaginative period in history that saw the rise of spirituality and a utopian social outlook. Tarnas notes the “widespread cultural influence of Transcendentalism” and a “new popular interest in both Eastern mystical and Western esoteric traditions” following the discovery of Neptune. The archetypal meaning of Neptune is associated with the union of opposites, communion with the Divine, and the imaginative world of dreams. While Uranus is a fundamentally solar archetype, Neptune is a lunar archetype. The Moon represents the mind, the fluid nature of the psyche, and ebb and flow of life. Neptune is similarly described with fluid metaphors—as Poseidon, ruler of the seas; as the “infinite sea of imagination”, as the “ocean of divine consciousness”, and “the archetypal wellspring of life”.5

The discovery of Pluto in 1930 was followed by the splitting of the atom (in 1932), the advent of nuclear power, the rise of fascism, world wars, and general ecological and cultural destruction. These events reflect the archetypal nature of Pluto as Śiva—the destroyer, the alchemist, the wrathful god. Tarnas correlates Pluto with Dionysian archetypes, the Freudian id, and Nietzsche’s will to power. In this sense, Pluto can be seen as Śiva and Śakti, death and rebirth, catharsis and transformation, Consciousness and Energy. Tarnas correlates Pluto with a number of deities—Hades, Persephone, Medusa, Pan, Medusa, Lilith, Innana, Isis and Osiris, the volcano goddess Pele, Quetzalcoatl, Kundalini, Śiva, and Kālī.6 The fiery themes of Pluto can also be seen as extending the qualities of Mars and its signs, Aries and Scorpio.

The use and interpretation of outer planets has not been incorporated into the Indian astrological tradition as a whole. However, some practitioners of Vedic astrology consider the outer planets to be valuable and necessary additions to natal horoscopy and transit interpretations. Ernst Wilhelm correlates the trinity of Uranus-Neptune-Pluto with the Purānic trimūrti of Brahma-Vishnu-Śiva—where Brahma / Uranus represent the force of creation, Vishnu / Neptune represent the force of sustenance, and Śiva / Pluto represent the force of destruction.7 We can note that wherever a conceptual trinity is found, it can often be correlated with other existing trinities. The coupling of Uranus-Neptune-Pluto with Sun-Moon-Mars is a correlation based on numerological trinities, just as Uranus-Neptune-Pluto correlate comfortably with the concept of trimūrti.

We can now approach a summary meaning of the outer planets, East and West, as follows: Uranus-Sun-Creation; Neptune-Moon-Communion; Pluto-Mars-Destruction.

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III. Points of Influence: Visibility, Invisibility, and Shadow Planets

As an observational science, astrology has always been limited to the constraints of celestial visibility. The classical seven planets (Sun - Saturn) were visible to the naked eye of ancient astrologers, but the invention of the telescope has since expanded the horizons of our perception. This brings the once unseen outer planets into the realm of visibility, and thereby into the collective psyche.

The concept of non-visible planets is found in the classical texts of Indian astrology, where invisible planets are classified as upagrāha—literally “secondary planet”. A variant term, chāyagrāha—“shadow planet”—is sometimes used interchangeably. Upagrāha are not heavenly bodies, but mathematical points of intersection. The Phaladīpika lists nine such upagrāhas: māndi, yamakaṇṭaka, ardhaprahāra, kāla, dhūma, vyatipāta, paridhi, indradhanu, and upaketu.8 Aside from yamakaṇṭaka (who confers the influence of Jupiter), but the remaining eight upagrāhas are regarded as malefic influences The lunar nodes—rāhu and ketu—are examples of upagrāha / chāyagrāha that are uniquely incorporated into the primary Indian schema of nine planets (Sun-Saturn, rāhu, ketu). The addition of outer planets could represent another context and usage of upagrāha where an invisible influence is not a mathematical point of intersection but is a planet unobservable to the naked eye.

The concept of non-visible planets establishes astrology as a study of influences rather than things. This understanding is further reflected in the Sanskrit term graha—commonly translated as “planet”, but literally meaning “that which seizes”. Graha also establishes a multi-dimensional framework for astrology, in which planets are not seen as literal causative agents, but archetypes of correlative influence that communicate in a priorly unified network of macrocosmic-microcosmic interactions. Therefore, outer planets can be easily accommodated—epistemologically and ontologically—within the framework of Indian astrology.

This brings us to the larger question of ongoing planetary discovery and its impact on astrology. Will astrologers continue to incorporate more planets into their practice? Tarnas sees the incorporation of additional planets as possible but requiring of empirical observation:

The discovery in the past several years of small planet-like objects in the Kuiper Belt beyond Pluto . . . are too recent for adequate assessments to have been made concerning possible empirical correlations or their potential significance. The resulting reclassification of Pluto as a dwarf planet does not affect the archetypal meaning that astrologers have consistently observed to coincide with its movements. However, the newly discovered bodies appearing at the beginning of the new millennium . . . serve well to remind both astronomers and astrologers of the still-expanding horizon of our knowledge of our own solar system.9

IV. Outer Planets, Inner Nodes: Currents of Involution and Evolution

In considering the subtler ranges of astrological influence, I have always turned to the lunar nodes, rāhu and ketu. In Indian astrology, the lunar nodes represent a serpentine archetype of transformation, as seen in the processes of Kundalini Yoga and its cross-cultural variants.10 The lunar nodes thus indicate the evolutionary path of individual consciousness, a path that can be seen in both yogic and psychological terms. In the context of yoga, the lunar nodes represent the “serpent power”, or Kundalini Shakti. When awakened, this serpentine power uncoils at the base of the spine and rises through the suṣumṇā nāḍī (analagous to the spinal column) where it unites with the cosmic source-energy in the crown chakra (sahasrāra). When viewed psychologically, Kundalini Yoga symbolizes the emergence of the unconscious to consciousness. Thus, we can also see the lunar nodes as psychological archetypes of the psyche, the shadow, and the process of individuation.11

The south node (ketu) represents the unconscious totality—which extends temporally into an unknowable karmic past that nonetheless shapes the present and future. The north node (rāhu) represents the emergence of the unconscious from latency and into the present surface of consciousness. The dynamic interaction between the lunar nodes is a fundamental polarity. Wherever there is polarity, there is tension and conflict. The resolution of polarity surfaces as a primary developmental concern, either by way of a union of opposites or an alchemical transformation of opposites. This is why the lunar nodes move through the zodiac as spatial and divisional opposites.

If the lunar nodes symbolize an upward / evolutionary vector of human growth, then I propose that the outer planets symbolize a downward / involutionary vector of development. If kundalini yoga is an example of evolution, then what is an example of involution? One key difference is that evolution proceeds from the lower to the higher and involution moves from higher to lower. The involutionary influence is powerfully embodied in the traditional Guru-function, where a higher Realization is brought into the context of the yet un-Enlightened individual. Adi Da proposes that there is no ascent without descent, and that the senior traditions12 of Kundalini yoga require an initiatory transmission from a Guru known as śaktipāta—śakti means “cosmic energy” and pāta means “to fall”. Thus, śaktipāta indicates a spiritual transmission that descends, or falls, upon the devotee.13 The act of spiritual transmission from teacher to disciple is also known as anugraha, literally “graceful influence”.

The Guru represents all three universal forces—creation, sustenance, and destruction. The Guru creates a path to Realization, nourishes the devotee with graceful influence (anugraha), and destroys the illusions of separate self with the spiritual transmission of Reality. If we correlate the outer planets with involutionary influences—whether spiritual, psychological, or cultural—then we open a new context of astrological interpretation. In examining the charts of spiritual aspirants or devotees, I have noticed a pattern: the historical meeting of a devotee with their Guru typically occurs during a notable outer planet transit.

Using myself as an example, I became a devotee of Adi Da during the following transits: a very tight Uranus-Moon conjunction in Pisces within 1 degree of my 8th house cusp, Neptune-Rāhu conjunction in Aquarius within a degree of my 7th house cusp, and a Ketu-Venus conjunction in my 1st house. This means the influence of the Guru appeared in my life amidst two significant outer planet transits and a nodal return. Uranus-Moon in Pisces transiting the 8th house cusp can be interpreted as an inner spiritual revolution of an esoteric nature. Neptune-Rahu in Aquarius transiting the 7th house cusp indicates the birth of a new union and relationship that is evolutionary in nature. And Ketu-Venus conjunction transiting the 1st house shows a bodily awakening of devotion and the likelihood of a karmic component to these events. In retrospect, finding my Guru dramatically altered the course of my life in every way.

Yet, this does not necessarily mean that these aforementioned planets / transits actually caused these events in my life. Rather, they coincided with those events. This illustrates a root-view of astrology—that planetary movements are a mirror of influences, points in a complex grid of consciousness that reflect a range of phenomenal happenings in an intimately related universe.

V. New Frontiers in a Living Tradition

The discovery and usage of outer planets in Eastern and Western astrological traditions reflects the nature of astrology as a living tradition that grows in the context of human culture. If we continue to expand our astrological horizons, then we will account for new ranges of influence, and be able to position them in a broader context of meaning and influence. New frontiers are endlessly possible in an ever-expanding cosmos and multi-dimensional psyche. Outer planets now have a relatively established and confirmed meaning among astrologers, but there is still more to discover. I think it is especially valuable to consider the outer planets, not as an isolated paradigm, but as influences that interact in the context of planetary dynamics as a whole. Careful observation and intelligent meaning-making will only enrich the universal core of astrological tradition, across systems and cultures, and throughout time and space.

In conclusion, I offer some questions for further discussion:

• Should astrologers use outer planets?

• Have you observed a correlation between major events and outer planet transits in your own life?

• If you are an astrologer: do you use outer planets and if so in what ways? I’m equally interested to hear from those who choose not to use outer planets and their reasons why.

• Should outer planets be viewed in natal chart interpretations or should they be seen only in the context of transits? Even more, should outer planets be restricted to the provinces of mundane astrology or applied in individual contexts as well?

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Happy Lunar New Year of the Water Rabbit!

Marked by the New Moon that appears between January 21 and February 20 in the Chinese lunisolar calendar, this period is known as the "Spring Festival" and signifies the beginning of Spring. Although the Spring Equinox does not occur until late-March, Asian cultures consider seasonal beginnings to occur before it’s full manifestation. In this sense, Spring truly begins after the Winter Solstice, as the sunlight increases and the days grow longer in the northern hemisphere.

In Asian medicine and cosmology, the twelve animals of the zodiac are seen in relation to a system of energetic correspondences. Each animal is seen as part of a larger energetic quality, expressed in the stars, the earth, and the human body. From this perspective, the Rabbit corresponds to the 2nd lunar month, the Large Intestine, the hours of 5-7am, and hexagram 34 (Great Strength). All of these correspondences reveal the nature of the Rabbit as an energetic archetype expressed through all of nature.

In Asian folklore, The Rabbit is said to hold the essence of the Moon. It is said that the Rabbit lives on the Moon and that it’s shape is reflected there. In Japanese art, the Rabbit is shown depicted under the Moon grinding ingredients for rice cakes in a mortar. The Moon is the ruler of fluids and essences in the natural world and the human body. Thus, the Moon is closely associated with herbal medicine and the "soma" found therein.

The Rabbit is a peaceful, quiet, diplomatic, and contemplative being—qualities reflected in those born in the Year of the Rabbit. Through its eliminative powers, the Rabbit readily discards the unnecessary, renewing itself with quiet strength.

May this new year bring peace and strength wherever it is needed in your life.

What is constitutional is innate but not ingrained. What we inherit is where we begin, but not who we ultimately become.

Birth is a karmic event that carries with it an incomprehensible momentum of energetic shapes. These patterns propel us in various directions, despite our relative consciousness or unconsciousness of them.

The natal astrological chart is the heavenly mirror of the earthly birth. When a child is born, we observe the physical qualities, the shape, the eyes, the skin, the weight, the height, the complexion. These are the earthly qualities. But what about the heavenly qualities which are also reflected in the child, albeit in a less materially observable form? The value of a natal astrological reading is to come into conscious contact with the natal forces that are at the root of our existence.

The term "constitution" is a somewhat misleading rendering of the Sanskrit term prakriti, which is best translated as "nature". The natal chart is a description of a person's nature at birth, which indicates innate qualities that are likely to remain evident throughout the lifetime of the person. However, it would be a tremendous error to reduce the individual to the birth chart. At most, the birth chart provides a blueprint, but who can say precisely what will be created? Ultimately, the birth chart is not the representation of a person, but of patterns. There is no identity, no person, no individual. Our greatest opportunity is to become aware of the patterned forces at play and to make conscious choices, to live in resonance with the universal life-force, and to allow it to direct us along the intelligent and harmonious course. Nature itself is a process of changes, so why should we presume that the prakriti of the so-called individual is a static, fixed, and unchanging reality?

We must begin to view the constitution as a dynamic and changing reality, an initial shape that continues to shape with the contours of time. Astrology readings are therefore always a present-time reading of the forces as play. A natal reading is not a reading of the past, but of the unique relevance of the past to the present and the future, in the precise moment of the reading itself. Thus, the reading is able to re-establish the resonance between the querent and the universal forces of life that have become obscured and thereby the cause of confusion. 

We are one month into the Year of the Metal Rat and the World Health Organization has officially proclaimed COVID-19 a pandemic. The Chinese zodiac is a cycle of 60 years, in which each of the twelve animals are given five elemental expressions. The Rat is the first animal of the Chinese zodiac and therefore this new Chinese year marks the beginning of a new cycle. Beginnings represent the initiation of new growth-patterns, but also the purification and release of old patterns. Metal is the element that governs the two organs affected by COVID-19: Lungs and Large Intestine. A viral epidemic in a Metal Year affecting the Metal-ruled organs is the sign of a “reset” in our personal and collective immunity. We must also remember that Metal is the element of Heaven, the “father”, the Source of manifestation, as well as the invisible spirit of the world. There is no element that better expresses the nature of our spiritual health more than Metal.

The first case of novel coronavirus was reported in Wuhan, China on December 31, 2019—five days after the south-node solar eclipse in Capricorn. A couple of weeks later, we experienced the north-node lunar eclipse of January 11. On January 30, coronavirus was declared a “public health emergency of international concern”. On February 11, one month after the lunar eclipse, the World Health Organization named the novel coronavirus “COVID-19”. The timing of these events illustrates the ancient understanding of eclipses. Indian and Tibetan astrology consider viral and bacterial infections (especially epidemics) to be caused by the eclipse-causing lunar nodes, Rahu and Ketu. In Vedic mythology, the lunar nodes are said to be a demon named Svarbhānu, who was cut in half by Lord Vishnu after he was caught stealing the nectar of immortality from the gods. This brings us full circle to the Tibetan concept of provocations as a cause of epidemics. The lunar nodes are the astrological expression, or Heavenly level of our psychological balance, just as Clifford explained the psychological import of Tibetan “demonology”. They represent the “demons” we must face in ourselves, the unconscious level of our psyche. Eclipses are seen as negative omens precisely because they indicate the purification of the psyche, and the six months following an eclipse is seen as an especially challenging period of time. Thus, the lunar nodes indicate the fundamental polarity that needs to be resolved for psychological well-being. Does this not also echo the Tibetan conception of mind as the root of all disease?

During the development of COVID-19, Jupiter had recently entered its sign of debilitation, where it joined Sun, Moon, and the historical Saturn-Ketu-Pluto conjunction in Capricorn (see Further Reading for my essay on this). Capricorn corresponds to the Large Intestine, while its ruler (Saturn) corresponds to the Metal element. Saturn is the planetary energy that protects the life-force, bestowing longevity and immunity. It is our defensive energy. This protective life-force is further detailed in Tibetan Medicine in the concept of bla, defined as the“protective life-force” and more shamanistically as “soul”. It correlates to the Chinese concept of shen (spirit). The Large Intestine is the eliminator of wastes. Thus, the eclipse and difficult conjunctions in Capricorn illustrate conditions of immune compromise combined with virulent toxicity that is at the root of the current pandemic.

We should remember that while Rahu and Ketu are often “demonized”, they are the very means for growth and evolution. The current pandemic is a powerful signal from the natural world, calling us to re-examine our moral, ecological, and psychic relationship to ourselves, to each other, and to the Earth-world as a whole. Therefore, this moment has within it a tremendous opportunity for humanity and the world, if we will eliminate the wastes of the old order and breathe in a future of unity, balance, and harmony.

A fundamental conception of astrology is that it derives phenomenological and epistemological value from the observation of astronomical phenomena. This means astrology will naturally be focused on the most observable of astronomical phenomena. What is within the spectrum of visibility is more proximate to us, physically and energetically. This is why astrology is known in India as jyotisa, “the study of light”. Therefore, comets as observable and lighted phenomenon holds meaning and influence. And influence of comets becomes meaningfully relevant to us when it passes close enough to the Earth to be visible to the naked eye.

II.
So what is a comet? A comet is a cosmic snowball of frozen gases and particles. As comets orbit closer to the Sun, they heat up and release gases, giving them the appearance of a long tail. The head and tail appearance of comets also links them archetypally to the lunar nodes, Rahu and Ketu, which are often described as the respective head and tail of a serpent or dragon.

The ancients astrologers were aware of comets, meteors, and the like and referred to these phenomena as ketu. Previous to the 6th century, it seems that ketu only referred to comets and like phenomena. It is likely that the Indian astronomer Varahamihira expanded this reference to include the south node of the Moon, whereas previously the lunar nodes were simply encompassed within “Rahu”. Thus, in the astronomical lexicon of India, ketu holds two meanings—the south node of the Moon and comets. As with most Sanskrit words, many meanings apply. In astronomical literature, “ketu” is being used with the meaning of “tail”. Comets are marked by their long tail. Similarly, the lunar nodes are described archetypally as the head and tail of a serpent (or dragon), where Rahu represents the head and Ketu the tail. As is characteristic of ancient languages, we see both literal and archetypal meanings embedded within a single word. A comet has a visible tail, while the “tail” that is the south node is metaphorical, a way of indicating what is “behind” us.

In the Kalacakra Tantra of Tibetan astrology, older conceptions are maintained. Unlike Vedic astrological texts, the Kalacakra Tantra describes ten heavenly forces (instead of nine). These ten are described as follows: the seven visible planets (Sun-Saturn), the two lunar nodes (Rahu and Kālagni), and comets (Ketu). In this conception, the south node of the Moon is given a unique reference, “Kalagni”, which literally means “black fire”. This is a reference to the “shadowy” qualities of the lunar nodes as eclipse points. The term “ketu” is reserved as a reference for comets and like phenomena. In the Tibetan schema, the south node and comets are referenced with two different words, and notably, comets are included in the “standard” group of ten heavenly influences.

III.
”Ketu” is a multivalent term, an archetypal reference. It has fixed technical meaning, but it has fluidity of reference, which is common in ancient languages. Some may argue that in astronomical texts, Ketu is used as a strictly descriptive technical term and does not have interpretive value. I propose that Ketu as a reference to comets is both a descriptive convention and an archetypal indicator. When astrologers speak of Ketu as the south node of the Moon, they principally ascribe to it the pattern-values of karmic merit and karmic purification. It is the 9th and last planet, the moksha-kāraka, or “giver of liberation”. In other words, Ketu represents all karmic factors (past life, ancestry, etc.) and the transcendence of those karmic factors. All of these meanings apply to comets. The “tail” meaning of Ketu also has connotations of the flames of a fire. From this perspective, Rahu correlates to the Water element, or the nourishment that feeds our growth while Ketu correlates to the Fire element, the purification and sacrifice of self. A comet is also “ketu” in this fiery sense, because it’s long tail is literally an image of combustion, and therefore a symbol of transformation. The comet is the kindling of the essence, the offering of soma into agni.

In Brihat Samhita, Varahamihira devotes a chapter to the discussion of comets. In his opening verses, he writes:

Some Sages like Parashara speak of 101 Ketus, while other such as Garga of 1000 Ketus.  However, Sage Narada declares that there is only one Ketu which appears in many forms and places.

In other words, there are many classifications of comets, but they are all understood as expressions of a single force. This statement also supports the notion that “Ketu” applies archetypally to both the south node of the Moon and to comets, and that their significance is similar.

In India and Tibet, a comet was interpreted as a positive or negative omen based on the color of its tail and its resemblance to certain archetypal images. For example, Tibetan Astrology considers four types of comets as negative omens, each type described according to its appearance: “Smokey Long Tail in the East”, “Tiger-head Blazing Fire in the South”, “Yak-head Rough Wind in the West”, and “Blue Water-Drop in the North”). Varahamihira describes comets as negative omens when they appear in the shape of swords, as another example. In ancient times, individuals saw patterns in astronomical phenomena that corresponded to their cultural archetypes. However, I do not believe that it is necessary to evaluate astrological patterns in terms of “positive” or “negative”. They are simply outer signs of inner realities and processes, a kind of mirror. Intelligent observation on this basis has real purpose and value. In any case, powerful events like eclipses and comets show us an opportunity.

In addition to this, I suggest that it is possible to interpret comets just as we would eclipses. With comets, we can note the date it was discovered, its window of visibility to the naked eye, and the date of its closest proximity to the Earth.

IV.
Eclipses happen many times a year, but a comet appearing with naked-eye visibility from Earth is a rare phenomenon. Neowise was discovered on March 27. On July 23, it will be in closest proximity to the Earth. (These two dates are amusingly palindromic). Using the Cards of Truth system, we see that March 27 is a 9 of Clubs day and July 23 is a 5 of Clubs day. The 9 of Clubs is a card of universal perspectives and insight. All 9 cards are ruled by the 9th planet, Ketu, giving this Ketu-comet even more Ketu significance. The 5 of Clubs is a card ruled by the fifth planet Jupiter. It represents the Guru-principle, the expansion of wisdom, joy, truth.

Neowise is visible just below the Big Dipper, a constellation of seven stars known as the “rishi stars” in India and Tibet. In Tibetan medicine, water that is left under the rishi stars overnight acquires unique healing energy. This “star water” is used medicinally in many applications. I consider the comet’s proximity to this auspicious asterism to be a positive omen for healing and a reminder that the force of Grace is still with us, even in what seem to be the darkest hours.

A comet’s appearance during a time of pandemic is an especially powerful omen. Traditionally, Rahu and Ketu are said to be the causes of epidemic diseases, because they represent the domain of the unconscious and the realm of deep-seated karma. The medical texts are very clear that epidemics are the result of unconscious human behavior which provokes the self-correcting forces of nature. I have written about the eclipses which preceded the pandemic and the recent triplet eclipse season in the midst of the pandemic. All of this is significant. Similarly, the comet’s appearance at the tail-end of a potent eclipse season is not to be overlooked. It is rare for a comet to become visible to the naked-eye. The last time a comet was visible in this way was Hale-Bopp in 1997. It seems that a significant comet appears once in a decade. Comet Neowise will not be visible for another 6,800 years! It is, in some sense, a marker of a turning point in civilization.

Comet Neowise is icy blue in color. It is a beautiful comet to behold. It has quite a long tail and when gazing at it, it has a strong benefic quality. Comet Neowise confirms the karmic nature of the pandemic as well as its potential to transform society. A comet also signals a transformation in leadership, typically the fall of a leader or powerful person. Comets represent a unique concentration of life-force and therefore of karmic merit. Thus, at the level of human life, it has been traditionally observed that great people are born (or pass) during a comet’s window of visibility. Similarly, at the level of the world, a comet signifies a transition in consciousness. Comet Neowise may be a sign that we have the opportunity to put the past behind us, to purify our present collective karma, and move toward a brighter and blessed future together.

Introduction

India and Tibet are at the heart of the richest philosophical, medical, and astrological traditions known to humankind. India has especially influenced the Tibetan philosophical, medical, and astrological traditions, but if we view the Tibetan systems as being purely of Indian origin and influence then we simultaneously dismiss a wealth of knowledge. Students in these fields cannot afford to rely purely on Sanskrit texts of Indian origin if they hope to ascertain a complete portrait of the profound sciences they study. For many reasons, portions of Sanskrit texts have been either entirely lost or patched together over centuries, facing the misfortune of errors, misunderstandings, and corruption. The Tibetans have thus done a great service to Indian culture by translating a plethora of such texts into the Tibetan language, thereby preserving them.

Those who doubt that the Tibetans have indeed done so need only study the Sanskrit and Tibetan languages. Tibetan is derived from Sanskrit and it mirrors Sanskrit largely for the purpose of easily translating Sanskrit texts. The Tibetan language was, in fact, so well-structured upon Sanskrit that modern scholars have been able to translate Tibetan texts back into the original Sanskrit in cases where the original Sanskrit text has been entirely lost. However, in preserving the Indian texts they found to be of value, the Tibetans were not merely accepting the Indian paradigms--they were critically examining and improving upon what they found. A poor understanding of this leads to the common assertions people make of Tibetan culture when they state that Tibetan Medicine is nothing other than Indian Ayurveda, or that Tibetan Astrology is nothing other than a fusion of Indian and Chinese Astrology. There is no doubt of the Indian influence and foundation of these systems in Tibet, but the Tibetans have improved upon these systems and also brought the understanding of their own native culture (Bön) to it.

 My purpose in stating this is due to the fact that there is currently great controversy amongst Vedic astrologers as to which zodiac to use (sidereal or tropical). Given that no existing text in the Vedic tradition has been able to offer irresolute proof that one should be used over the other, I have naturally turned to an Indian text in the Buddhist tradition that has been incorporated into the Tibetan astrological and yogic tradition: the Kālacakra Tantra. The Kālacakra Tantra, together with its commentary, Vimalaprabhā, constitute two 11th century texts that provide the foundation of Indian astrology in Tibet. What is interesting about these texts is that while they proceed directly from the Indian siddhāntas, they directly criticize and correct the perceived errors in calculation. I believe that the Kālacakra Tantra offers a revolutionary spirit and vision of clarity in times of naïve orthodoxy where the only absolute has become ambiguity itself. The import of my findings are therefore the proceeding content and significance of this essay.

 
Tibetan Astrology

Before we dive into the implications of the Kālacakra Tantra, a brief overview of Tibetan astrology is necessary. The Tibetan astrological tradition is most accurately described as a convergence of three traditions: the native shamanistic tradition of Tibetan known as Bön, Indian astrology, and Chinese astrology. The native Bön tradition of Tibet shares similarities (as well as subtle differences) from the traditions of the ancient Chinese, and as such, their astrological influence is more akin to the Chinese tradition. Thus, the Tibetans describe their astrology as being comprised of essentially two streams, or "calculations": the calculation of the white expanse (or simply, the "white calculation") and the calculation of the black expanse (or simply, the "black calculation"). The reason for this specific characterization is quite simple: the Tibetans described the Indians as the land of the white and the Chinese as the land of the black. Hence, these colors were simply means for describing the respective cultures of the Indian and the Chinese. For the purposes of this article, we are examining the "white calculation", or the incorporation of Indian astrology into the Tibetan astrological tradition. The "white calculation" is summarized in the Kālacakra Tantra and so our journey is focused on this mysterious text.

The Kālacakra Tantra is a text of Indian origin, belonging to the Indian Buddhist tradition rather than the Vedic tradition. Its translation into Tibetan is dated as 1027 CE, but its existence in Sanskrit dates to 806 CE, and possibly earlier. The text is described as being taught by the Buddha in the 5th century BC to the Kings of Shambhala[1] who organized the teachings into their current form. The meaning of kālacakra is "wheel of time", and so its focus on astrology comes as no surprise. However, the Kālacakra Tantra is also more than an astrological system. Conceived of as a mandala, the Tantra has an "outer", "inner", and "secret" dimension. The outer Tantra describes the calculations for the five aspects of the calendar (pañanga), planetary positions, and solar and lunar eclipses. The inner Tantra describes how the movement of the heavenly bodies affects the flow of life-energy[2] in the human body. Based upon the observed effects of planetary motion on the flow of life-energy, an elaborate anatomical map of the subtle body is described, and a system of yogic meditative practice is ascertained. The Tantra states that while the movement of the planets affects the flow of life within our nādis and cakras, so it is that we can directly harness the flow of time and transcend the effects of conditional nature.

Zodiacal Confusion

Provincialism is the great obstacle in the true study of any great science, especially the Vedic sciences. Nationalistic prejudices fail to recognize the cultural evolution of man, which is necessarily universal in nature. There can be no question, for example, that the Indians profoundly influenced the Greeks and the Greeks the Indians.[3] It is, however, rare that a culture simply accepts the paradigms of another without adjusting and potentially improving upon it in some manner. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the relationship between India and Tibet, both medically and astrologically. There is so much in the Ayurvedic tradition alone that has been lost or obscured that we now see thriving in the clinics of Tibet.[4] Cultural bias certainly shapes emphasis over time, and as Ayurveda has come to the West, it has adapted to its new environment. The environment of India, however, is also rapidly changing to become increasingly "Westernized". Western medicine is seen as the apex of science and now Ayurveda has been tailored to fit the modern allopathic paradigm. This certainly has its positives, but also its negatives. In contrast, the relative obscurity of Tibetan medicine and astrology--along with its well-maintained lineages--has allowed for a tremendous degree of preservation, relatively free of the "Westernizing" trend. Furthermore, the Tibetans' openness to benefit from surrounding cultures has only been an enrichment to its own cultural and philosophical tapestry, as far as I can see it. In a circuitous twist of fate, it is India that has provided a home for the Tibetans amidst the Chinese invasion, and enabled them to preserve their culture. The Tibetans are not shy about the nature of their cultural influences. For every Sanskrit text that has been translated into Tibetan, the original Sanskrit name is given below the Tibetan name of the text, as a way of paying homage to the native culture of the text. The Tibetans also have a unique gift for organizing and categorizing information. They have taken the entire system of Ayurveda, understood it, and presented it in a more logical and delineated format than is found in the Indian texts. They have also, as early as the 5th century engaged in cross-cultural dialogue, incorporating elements of the Indian, Chinese, and Persian medical traditions.[5] What the Tibetans have done with medicine, they have also done with astrology, as the two subjects were (and still are) seen as a single subject in Tibet. There are several years of astrological education built into the medical curriculum of traditional Tibetan doctors, even to this day. It proceeds then that astrologers of India may have something to gain in examining the Tibetans' preservation and subsequent correction of the calculations from the siddhāntas.

The controversy between zodiacs was never dreamed of in the time of the ancients, as during their time, there was no different between tropical or sidereal Aries. It is only over time that the realities of precession[6] demonstrated the ever-deepening difference between these two zodiacs. The Greeks, Persians, and Tibetans all describe a tropical zodiac, while the great majority of Vedic astrologers today assert the use of a sidereal zodiac.[7] Many are of the mistaken belief that the use of the sidereal zodiac is what makes astrology "Vedic" and therefore unique. Such an understanding is among the most superficial, as the defining paradigms of Vedic astrology are deeply philosophical and technical in nature. Some modern Vedic astrologers have asserted that the sidereal zodiac is based upon the fixed stars rather than the moving equinoxes and solstices thereby making it more "reliable" and "true". These are equally superficial claims, as the astrology of every other culture is based on a tropical zodiac, which understands the formation of the ecliptic on the basis of the Sun's apparent path around the Earth. Astrology is, after all, rooted in the astronomical observation of space and time from Earth. The last attempt at justifying the Indians use of the sidereal zodiac is that it is the "spiritual" zodiac while the tropical zodiac is "earthly" in nature and therefore only of import for agriculture, not natal astrology. Such an argument is aggressively devoid of philosophical and astronomical value.

In order to escape this confronting conundrum, astrologers have also argued that the use of zodiacs is akin to many paths leading to the same truth. But this is merely an empty attempt at peace which amounts more to indifference than reconciliation. Others promote the idea that astrology can be practiced whether or not the calculations are accurate and exact, because astrology has archetypal and intuitive value as opposed to rational and scientific value. While I have no lack of sympathy with the intuitive aspects of astrological practice, it is a disservice to the tradition of astrology to promote its non-scientific basis. It is true that astrology requires an intuitive faculty and that the reading of reflected patterns is archetypal in nature, but it is equally true that astrology is based in the observable movement of the planets. If we remove astronomy from the heart of astrology, then we are left with mere divination--at which point, we should just as soon roll dice than cast a chart.[8]

Therefore, the consideration of the zodiac is of significant import in astrological practice and cannot be dismissed casually, even if it topples long-existing paradigms. Astrologer Ernst Wilhelm was the first to posit the use of a tropical zodiac in a Vedic astrological context in his groundbreaking essay, "The Mystery of The Zodiac". In his essay, Wilhelm provides a summary of the zodiacal confusion facing the astrological tradition and examines significant portions of Indian texts in order to determine a proper zodiac. As his findings and suggestions are of significant value, I will quote them at length:

The greatest influence upon Vedic astrology as practiced in this day and age is that of Varahamihira, circa 500AD. Varahamihira’s work is largely based on the two Yavana works, Yavana Jataka of Sphujidhvaja and Vriddha Yavana Jataka, both of which predate Varahamihira by some 300-500 years. Both these Yavana works are held in high esteem by later Hindu authors of astrology, who quote and refer to them often. Thus much of the Vedic astrology practiced today is the result of the influence of these two Yavana works.

Who exactly the Yavanas were is not agreed upon by all scholars, however, there is general agreement that they were somehow related to the Greeks. Some believe the Yavanas were the Greeks that had commerce with India during the time of Alexander the Great, while others claim that the Yavanas were Greeks that settled in northern India and who became Hindus, studied the Hindu astrology and wrote masterful texts on the subject. The latter is more likely the case as the author of Yavana Jataka claims that the science of astrology was given by the Asvins, which would not likely be a belief that an orthodox Greek would have had. Varahamihira states that the Yavanas embraced the science of astrology, mastered it and thus we (the Hindus of his time) should now be willing to learn from them. In any case the facts reveal that the Yavanas had at least some Greek heritage, that the Yavana influence upon astrology in India is great, and that the Yavanas studied the astrology of the ancient Indian masters. There are, however, no fully extent natal astrology texts that scholars have managed to date before the time of the Yavana texts, and this has caused some scholars to believe that Rasis were first introduced into India by the Yavanas – the Greeks. However, there are remnants written by the ancient masters from the period of perhaps 300 BC and older that reveal the use of Rasis before the Yavana texts. These are known as the Vriddha Karikas and they notably mention Rasi aspects.

In the contest of Rasis, the Yavana Jataka reveals an interesting fact. In its first chapter Yavana Jataka states the following:

29. The solar half (of the Zodiac) begins with Magha (the first naksatra in Leo); the other half, the lunar, with Sarpa (the last naksatra in Cancer). The Sun gives the (Zodiacal) signs to the planets in order, the lunar signs (are assigned) in reverse order.

This has reference to the fact that the Zodiac is divided into two halves, one ruled by the Sun and one by the Moon. The six Rasis from Leo: Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Capricorn are the Solar Rasis. The six Rasis in the reverse from Cancer: Cancer, Gemini, Taurus, Aries, Pisces and Aquarius are the Lunar Rasis. Yavana Jataka gives this information in reference to the Nakshatras, which means that in this instance Yavana Jataka is referring to Sidereal Rasis. In its last chapter, however, Yavana Jataka refers to the Tropical Zodiac:

30. One should find that the northern course of the Sun begins at the beginning of Capricorn, and the southern course at the beginning of the fourth sign (Cancer); the first equator (crossing) in the year is at the beginning of Aries, the second at the beginning of Libra.

Yavana Jataka clearly refers to the Equinox as the beginning of Aries, so the Tropical Zodiac is mentioned. These two contradicting Sutras reveal that the Yavanas, considered as masters in astrology by Varahamihira, had no knowledge of the precession of the equinoxes, which means that they had no knowledge of the possibility of a Sidereal and Tropical Zodiac. The question is, did the Yavanas believe they were using the Sidereal Zodiac without the knowledge that there was a precession and no Tropical Zodiac, or did they believe they were using the Tropical Zodiac, again, with no knowledge of precession and or any knowledge of a Sidereal Zodiac? There is no way we can know, we can only now that they were not aware of the precession of the equinoxes.

After examining similar (and conflicting) evidence from a single author, Wilhelm concludes:

If the Tropical Zodiac is the correct Zodiac for erecting horoscopes, one theory of how the difference in Zodiac use could have come about is that the Hindu Astrologers, who emphasized Nakshatras due to their importance in the religious and daily life of the Hindu, began to ignore precession when the vernal equinox (0 degrees Tropical Aries) lined up with the beginning of Asvini and upon the vernal equinox beginning to precess backwards through the Nakshatras, they erroneously continued to calculate Aries Rasi from the beginning of Asvini Nakshatras.

If the Sidereal Zodiac is the correct Zodiac for erecting horoscopes, one theory of how the difference in Zodiac use could have come about is that as the vernal equinox (0 degrees tropical Aries) moved towards Asvini (0 degrees Sidereal Aries) the Greeks, becoming attached to the Solar Months, which are tropical and named after Aries, etc. forgot about the Sidereal Rasis.

There is evidence of the Greeks knowing of precession from 300 BC to the present, while there is evidence that the Indians lost the knowledge of precession during the 1st - 5th century AD, during which time the Vernal equinox was close to the beginning of Asvini, so there is a greater likelihood that the Indians made the error.

Wilhelm's presentation of the zodiac crisis facing the Vedic astrological tradition, along with what was perceived as his revolutionary suggestion to use both zodiacs, has led to a reformationary current in the Vedic astrological tradition. In "The Mystery of The Zodiac", Wilhelm has deeply considered the nature and meaning of several Indian texts. It is my purpose in this article to introduce yet another text and citation that I feel shifts the landscape in a similar direction but hopefully farther from the mystery of the zodiac and closer to a clarification of the zodiac!

The Clarification of The Zodiac

In Kālacakra and the Tibetan Calendar, Kālacakra scholar and translator, Edward Henning, translates and comments upon the astrological calculations presented in the Kālacakra Tantra. The text of the Tantra has two significant implications for Vedic astrologers: (1) It gives the calculation of the planets in an undoubtedly tropical manner (2) It directly criticizes the Indians' calculations. According to Henning, "It is clear that the Kālacakra writers considered the calendrical methods in general use in India to have become corrupted over time. . ."[9] and that "The Kālacakra system accepts the basics of general Indian astrology, but corrects some points that are considered wrong".[10] It is this point that should awaken the curiosity of the Vedic astrologer. Why did the Tibetans consider the Indian calculations to be corrupt and inaccurate? Why did the Tibetans accept the basics of Indian astrology but reject the nature of their calculations?  

Henning opens his discussion of this topic with verse 26 of the Kālacakra Tantra, titled "The prophesy of the coming of Mañjuśrī":

After this year, six hundred years, there will arise in Sambhala the appearance of the lord of men, Yaśas; Then after nāga hundred years, for certain, in the land of Mecca, the barbarian teachings will be established. At that time, people in the world will know the accurate brief karanas. All through the land the siddhāntas will be corrupted, in the effects of time. [26][11]

 Henning gives the following commentary on this verse:

The Vimalaprabhā is here starting its criticism of other Indian systems of astronomy, claiming that their understanding of the position of the Sun has become inaccurate. Indian systems use a sidereal zodiac--one defined by the fixed stars--and, as will become clear, the Kālacakra advocates a tropical zodiac, one that keeps step with the seasons, and where the definition of the entry of the Sun into Aries is the vernal equinox--the moment when day and night are of equal length.[12]

The Tantra appears to suggest that the Islamic invasion was the source of siddhāntic corruption, but Henning points out that during the relevant period, there was a greater influence of Indian astronomers on Islamic astronomers. He suggestively interprets the phrase "effects of time" as a reference to precession, "a faster that was not taken properly into account by the Indian astronomers, but well understood in the Islamic world". The fact that the Indians did not consider the realities of precession are at the heart of the zodiac controversy, and so it does follow that the Tantra would criticize the Indians for not understanding the "effects of time". The Tantra then continues: 

One does not find an accurate Sun in the karanas other than those in which an accurate determination with the shadow has been made of the day of the start of the northward passage. Without the accurate shadow for the northward passage, the solar longitude will not be accurate. If the solar longitude is not accurate, then as a result the lunar longitude will not be accurate. Similarly, as Mangala (Mars) and so forth are subtracted from the solar longitude, if the solar longitude is not accurate then their longitudes will also not be accurate.[13]

Henning continues:

The distinction between tropical and sidereal zodiacs is not spelled out here, but the intention is clear enough. If the longitude of the Sun is determined, thereby defining the zodiac, by reference to a shadow at the time of the solstice, this can only define a tropical zodiac. The actual definition occurs later in the text, during commentary to verse 38. It is interesting to note that the main Indian siddhāntas place the coincidence of the tropical and sidereal zodiacs at the beginning of the 6th century CE. I shall show later that the planetary calculations included in the Kālacakra Tantra almost certainly are derived from one of these siddhāntas, described by Varāhamihira with an epoch of 505 CE. It is from that time that the Kālacakra would claim to have adhered to a correct, tropical, zodiac. Presumably one interpretation of the Kālacakra criticism of other Indian systems is that they misunderstood the nature of the zodiac, and confused it with the fixed stars. 

I should point out that I use the term 'passage' here in a way slightly different from normal western usage. the meaning in the original texts is to divide the motion of the Sun in a year into two halves (bgrod pa, ayana), one when it is traveling towards the north, between the winter and summer solstices, and the other when it is traveling back towards the south. It seems reasonable to call these northward and southward passages. 

The normal western use of passage is similar, but in that case northern passage refers to the half of its orbit when the Sun is north of the Earth's equator--between the spring and autumn equinoxes. The comment that the longitudes of Mars and the other planets are subtracted from the longitude of the Sun is a reference to the importance of the Sun in the calculation of the geocentric longitude of the planets.[14] 

The Tantra then continues:

So, as their longitudes for the planets are not accurate, the planetary prognostications and horoscopes of the heterodox are pointless.[15]

The Tantra then provides an extensive discussion on how to correct the calculation of the solar longitude and the remaining planets. In the following passage from the commentary, the "primary definition" of the zodiac is finally given:

In order to understand these omissions and additions, for ten days before the first month of the northward passage, the shadow of a gnomon should be carefully studied. That day from which the gnomon shadow shows the turn towards the north, that is the day of the Sun's change, with that weekday, that lunar day, that yoga, and that karana.

On the day the longitude of the Sun has twenty in the mansion place and fifteen in the nādī place, and this is the primary definition.[16]

 Henning comments:

The Vimalaprabhā now starts to explain the key component of the Kālacakra siddhānta; the method of correcting the longitude of the Sun. The "day of the Sun's change" is the day of the winter solstice, and this is the crucial passage for the definition of the zodiac according to the Kālacakra system. The phrase "primary definition" leaves no room for doubt regarding its importance. The figure given of 20;15 corresponds exactly to the beginning of Capricorn, the position of the Sun at the winter solstice in a tropical zodiac.[17]

The sentiments of the Tantra and its commentary were echoed a century later by Abhayākaragupta, an 11th-12th century master of the Kālacakra system and abbot of the Vikramśīla monastery. His primary work was a Sanskrit text on Kālacakra astronomy and calendar known as the Kālacakrāvatāra ("Introduction to Kālacakra").[18] According to Henning, this text quotes extensively from the Tantra and its commentary, reiterating the need for correcting the solar longitude. Abhayākaragupta, however, describes more elaborately the setting up on a gnomon to determine the proper longitude of the Sun.

Conclusions

It is certainly clear from the verses that while the Tibetans sought to incorporate Indian astrology, they considered the sidereal zodiac to be a mistaken calculation, instead giving extensive instructions on converting Indian calculations to what could only constitute a tropical zodiac. It is then several years after Wilhelm's publication of "The Mystery of The Zodiac" that Henning has put forward a strikingly similar conclusion:  

Looking at the description of the calculations for the calendar in the Kālacakra Tantra commentary, the Vimalaprabhā . . . it strikes me that the Kālacakra system expresses a reforming spirit, criticizing the loss of accuracy in general Indian systems and encouraging the proper use of a tropical zodiac based upon the observation of solstices.

It is certainly true that around the sixth and seventh centuries CE Indian astronomers paid little--perhaps too little--attention to the effects of precession. In his translation of the Sūrya Siddhānta (Sūrya, p. 117), Burgess writes that "the earliest Hindu astronomers were ignorant of, or ignored, the periodical motion of the equinoxes." He also considers the possibility that the Hindu adoption of the sidereal system was the result of "a failure to recognise the fact that the equinox was variable."  

He goes on to describe how difficult it would have been for them to fit corrections for precession into their theories and calculations once they had finally realized the important effect it was having. This is a cogent point, and the Vimalaprabhā similarly criticizes the Indian heterodox astronomers for creating complex systems that they eventually themselves failed to understand, and that subsequently became inaccurate with the passage of time.

These views expressed by Burgess are very similar to my interpretation of the Kālacakra criticism of Hindu astronomers--that they had drifted by neglect into using a sidereal zodiac. It is this error that the Kālacakra authors want to see corrected in a reform of the calendar. A Kālacakra point of view would accept the basic structure of the Indian calendar and its symbolism, but adjust it to the tropical zodiac. Not by some tortuous manipulation of theories and complex calculations as in the Hindu siddhāntas, but by the simple application of observation.

In the Vimalaprabhā this could hardly be expressed more clearly, and the order in which these topics are presented in both the Kālacakra Tantra and its commentary make sense when viewed in this way.[19]  

I believe Henning is correct to assess the Kālacakra Tantra as having a "reforming spirit". In fact, its corrected calculations have yet to be put into practice by either the Indians who inspired it or the Tibetans who wrote them! We know that most Vedic astrologers are still using a sidereal zodiac to calculate signs and nakshatras, but what about the Tibetans? The Tibetans certainly intended to use a tropical zodiac since the time of the Kālacakra Tantra, but their zodiac is currently positioned somewhere between the sidereal and tropical. This is due to the Tibetan belief that the solstice was observed at a different time in Tibet than in other parts of the world, a mistaken theory that has long been disproven. In order to account for this belief, the Tibetans introduced an adjustment to the tropical zodiac, which has now placed it 35° apart from the true tropical zodiac. Throughout history, there have been calendar makers and astronomers in Tibet who have pointed out this miscalculation but to no avail.[20] In recent time, it is Henning's scholarship that has pointed out this need most fervently and poignantly. The true tropical zodiac is now, effectively, the lost calculation, stranded somewhere between India and Tibet.

The Tantra's advocacy of a tropical zodiac could be rejected by Indians as being a "Tibetan" phenomenon and therefore not truly representative of the Vedic astrological tradition. However, such an argument does not truly hold as the Kālacakra system is, in fact, entirely of Indian origin. Another possible argument could be that the Tibetans did not understand the nature of the sidereal zodiac and so mistakenly sought to correct the siddhāntic calculations, but this also does not hold in light of the inconsistencies found within the Vedic texts and the Tantra's overt recommendation for an astrology based on observation. There are Tibetan astrologers who seek to justify the current "tropical" zodiac used by Tibetans putting forward arguments that astrology is not scientific but symbolic. Such an argument only reveals insecurities and an inability to "lose face". Perhaps one of the strongest messages of the Kālacakra Tantra is that it calls for astrology to be founded in direct observation of the planetary bodies--and such is the true foundation of even all astrological knowledge. Some may cry reductionism at such a suggestion, as astrology in the modern era has emerged with greater archetypal and thereby psychological import. And I agree wholeheartedly that one of the superior uses of astrology is for healing the psyche. At the same time, we must not forget that it is based on real astronomical realities and their actual movements as seen from Earth.

Proponents of a sidereal astrology may continue to advocate the fixed star system, but there is no actual basis for attributing rāsis to the constellations. The original names of the constellations differ from the zodiacal names given to them by the Greeks which has only served to confuse things. The Vedic texts do not originally describe rāsis with names and symbols, but simply as a 12-fold division of the ecliptic. We should consider then whether the sidereal zodiac has a real basis, or if it is simply a cross-cultural confusion made worse from a lack of knowledge regarding precession?  

Wilhelm's "Mystery of The Zodiac" inspired an equilibrium between the two zodiacal extremes, suggesting that both should be used in proper context: a tropical zodiac to calculate rāsi and a sidereal zodiac for calculating nakshatras. The logic being that as nakshatras are commonly considered to be the fixed stars, it appears logical to assign them to a sidereal zodiac. What is interesting is that while the Kālacakra Tantra clearly gives credence to a tropically calculated zodiac, it does not discern the use of a sidereal zodiac for the nakshatras. This is puzzling given their awareness of nakshatras and the nature of the siddhāntic calculations. For example, the following commentary on the earlier quoted verse from the Tantra makes mention of nakshatras while giving the correction of the Sun's longitude:

Others do not have an accurate Sun in their karanas. For this reason, from the longitude, (counted in) mansions from Asvini, is subtracted six mansions and three quadrants, or 45 nādi. In order for the solar steps to be accurate, three signs from Aries, and so forth, are subtracted, Cancer being the birth-sign (of the Sun). Therefore "Season mansions and three quadrants are a deficit, and are to be subtracted directly from the Sun's longitude." By longitude is meant the longitude of mansions, and so forth, and breaking down the Sun's longitude, subtracting directly means that the mansions are subtracted from the mansion place, and the nādi are subtracted from the nādi place.

In another portion of the text, the nakshatras are clearly described in relationship to rāsis:

Aśvinī, Bharanī, and the first quadrant of Krittikā are in Aries. In this way, nine quadrants are understood to constitute Aries and the other twelve signs.[21]

 The Tantra also describes the "calculation of the lunar mansion at change of lunar day" based on the previously corrected solar longitude (based on observation of the solstices).

In his comments on a verse from the commentary, Henning writes that the Tibetans criticized "the literal manner in which primarily Hindu astrologers interpreted the weekdays, lunar mansions, and the rest".[22] If the Tibetans had intended for the nakshatras to be calculated sidereally, they would not be mentioned as markers in the correction of the Sun's longitude nor would the corrected solar longitude be a factor in calculating the nakshatra at the change of the lunar day. Given the pains they went through to give the corrected calculations and the significance of nakshatras in their system, I find it unlikely that they simply neglected to indicate a separate zodiac for the nakshatras. From what I have been able to gather, the Tibetans viewed nakshatras as the Indians viewed rāsis: divisions of time. There is no evidence that I have found yet that suggests the Tibetans were mapping nakshatras as divisions in space (i.e. sidereally). (In Appendix B, I have provided a table of the Tibetan listing of nakshatras.) Whether this is an oversight on the part of the Tantra's authors or suggestive of a need to consider tropical nakshatras is the question at hand, which extends beyond the scope of this article.

As for the current astrological landscape: there is truly no end to the number of arguments that can be created from the place of bias and the mind of tribalism. The nature of such argumentation are purely political and social rather than properly intellectual and valuable forms of inquiry. Such limited modes of thinking and enquiry can only be seen as a digression from the cultural (and even spiritual) evolution of humankind. Astrologers must spend less time in argument and more time in genuine observation of and attunement to the stars. The commonly noted "astrological renaissance" of the current era is a unique moment in time wherein we can not only reflect on the cross-cultural history of various astrological traditions but can easily process complex calculations with software. There is no doubt that the work of ancient astronomers and astrologers is so immense as to verge on the superhuman. It is from the place of such reverence that we must endeavor to use the means of our time to fully consider and test the truths of time. When we can acknowledge the limitations of that which has preceded us, we may begin to realize something greater. What greater advantage exists in the passage of time? Therefore, astrologers must cultivate a disposition of profound openness, as it is only in such openness of mind and spirit that one can receive the revelations of truth. As Robert Thurman said, "It is absolutely marvelous that the Kālacakra system, after giving detailed instructions on the calculation of the calendar, recommends one indispensable practice to keep its practice effective--the actual observation of nature".[23]

References

[1] Shambhala is considered to be a mythical kingdom described in Indian and Tibetan texts. It is mentioned in the Kālacakra Tantra and the ancient Bön texts of Tibet. It is also mentioned in the Vishnu Purāna as the birthplace of the Kalki Avatar--and the Kālacakra Tantra likewise makes mention of Kalki.

[2] The flow of life-energy is described in the Tantra as prāna and bindu. Prāna is translated in Buddhist Tantra as "wind", or the flowing aspect of natural life-energy. "Bindu" is translated as "drop", or the essence of life-energy. Wind is the motion of life-energy, while Bindu is its unique crystallization and collection. According to the motion of the planets, especially during eclipses, the winds and drops move and collect in specific channels. 

[3] For an impressive scholarly treatment of this topic, see Thomas McEvilley's The Shape of Ancient Thought: Comparative Studies in Greek and Indian Philosophies.

[4] This is especially evident in the practice of external therapies.

[5] As early as the 5th century, the King of Tibet summoned international conferences inviting doctors from India, China, Persia, and Nepal to participate in an exchange of knowledge. Similar cross-cultural exchanges were held in the 8th century, enabling the influence of Indian, Chinese, and Persian medicine into Tibetan medicine.

[6] This is a reference to axial precession, or the precession of the equinoxes, defined as a gradual shift in the orientation of the Earth's axis.

[7] It is worth noting that there is now an emergence of Vedic astrologers who are beginning to use the tropical zodiac for calculating rāsis and sidereal zodiac for calculating nakshatras.

[8] This is not to suggest that divination has no value, as it most certainly does, especially in the traditions where its genuine (and shamanically developed) practice is performed. There are divinatory aspects of astrology, but not all astrology is divinatory in nature.

[9] Edward Henning, Kālacakra and the Tibetan Calendar (New York: The American Institute of Buddhist Studies, 2007). 212.

[10] Ibid, 213.

[11] Ibid, 217.

[12] Ibid, 217.

[13] Ibid, 219.

[14] Ibid, 220.

[15] Ibid.

[16] Ibid, 258.

[17] Ibid, 259.

[18] There is only one surviving manuscript of the Kālacakrāvatāra which Edward Henning obtained from The Asiatic Society in Kolkata, India. He describes the text as being written in a medieval Bengali script which he had transcribed into Devanāgarī by an expert in medieval Bengali named Vijayarāja Vajrācārya. Henning made this text available on his website, where one can also find the Tibetan translation: http://www.kalacakra.org/kavatara/kavatara.htm

[19] Edward Henning, Kālacakra and the Tibetan Calendar (New York: The American Institute of Buddhist Studies, 2007). 346-347.

[20] The famous example is of Zhonnu Pal who introduced an "Error Correction" calendar in 1440 which re-calculated the Sun's longitude per the Kālacakra Tantra, restoring it to a tropical value.

[21] Ibid, 247.

[22] Ibid, 249.

[23] Ibid, x.