ASTROLOGY IS A LANGUAGE of meditative self-inquiry. It points at the fascinating, homeward-beckoning symbols embedded into personality and the world around us. The world, it turns out, is riddled with undeciphered metaphor, but most of it is too insultingly obvious for clever minds to notice or contemplate. And what, you may ask, is the overarching message of astrology? The answer is ingeniously distilled into the Spring Equinox, the astrological New Year’s Eve and template for the awakened life.
The cusp between Aries and Pisces (March 20-21) brings into seamless contact the Pisces impulse to surrender individuality (and the past year) with the Aries impulse to incarnate personality, once again, into another turn of the wheel. Daring to fish around in this demilitarized zone between personality and pure awareness is the essence of meditation, non-duality and self-realization. What is the astrologically ordained purpose of life? Simple: to assume the posture of the equinox; to abide as the vast, interpenetrating Pisces presence enjoying the taste of a particular Aries point of view.
Straddling these two dimensions is, of course, impossible for the ego to “make happen.” It happens naturally, however, when the flame of Aries willpower recedes into a steady pilot light awaiting a measured twist of the dial from the greater flow of life. This seasonal mandate to aim our Aries desire at Pisces surrender to the Tao, is echoed in the head-to-toe archetypal flow of the human body.
The Body as Nondual Pointer
Have you noticed that the somatic headquarters for masculine Aries will (the head) rides on top of (and is, therefore, cripplingly dependent on) a minutely-sensitive, feminine membrane: the soles of our Pisces feet? The time-bound sense of self is, after all, heavy cargo; no desire-stricken ego can stand long before resting its head at the feet of someone or something. The question is, what manner of guru will it be and which one is worthy? For the answer to this question, let’s take a look at what the feet bow down to.
The most in-your-face part of us take orders from the most timelessly-pumping, under-the-radar part of us – the Pisces toes. In turn, the feet take orders from the real skipper of our steps: the spongy, slippery, toe-stubbing texture of the space we’re moving through. Certainly it’s not the ego who says “Step here, not there, with this pressure, not that.” The myriad of split-second decisions that each Pisces footfall must make in order to keep us erect and moving safely forward can only happen by being in dialogue with a greater landscape. Let’s call it “The will of what is.” Mmm… Whose will, then, actually propels our steps? The one who poured the cement pathway? The one who gave him the idea? Are we not always moving in response to causes and conditions beyond our immediate control or comprehension? Cultivating this “being walked by the greater landscape of what is” sensation is a simple but effective way to collapse the illusion of an orphaned somebody independently willing and surrendering their way through life.
Once again, the wheel of the Zodiac delivers its singular equinoctial commandment: Thou shalt practice the art of aiming your individual Aries will at Pisces surrender to the greater “will of what is.” And how, you may ask, do we master this art? Simple: by becoming curious and self-reflective enough to notice which end of the archetypal wagon we’re falling from.
The Cowardice of Aries Force
What happens when our desire-stricken Aries head lords over our nimbly navigating toes – when identity and desire blind us to the physical or interpersonal texture of the space we’re moving through? In short, a stubbed toe. Whether it be a physical fall or an empathic failure – we create worry and stress for others and “trip them up.” I call this the cowardice of Aries force. Time to consult the guru of the Pisces toes who know how to “not-know” long enough to sensitively probe into what Life wants to happen. Tripping is life’s way of waiving its hands, warning us to return to the interdependent, co-arising quality of consciousness that the toes know.
The Violence of Pisces Flaccidity
What happens, on the other hand, when a suffering society or ego calls on us to serve, but the effort to step into a grounded identity and point of view feels too pathetically surreal to bother? What happens when our probing Pisces toes become so self-consciously sensitive that they refuse to fire walk through a soul-enlivening challenge or fear? In short, ennui: a vexing, passionless blur. I call this the violence of Piscean flaccidity.
Here’s a mindfulness exercise to help you find balance: Try posting these two phrase somewhere prominent in your home so you can get used to assessing from which side of the Aries/Pisces tightrope you may be falling off. Sometimes, just articulating the stakes is all it takes!
To summarize: The purpose of astrology (or living in archetypal space) is to help us become a shrewdly compassionate witness of our own and others ego and re-sensitize to the dictates of each present moment. In essence, this means learning to put head in service to toe and aim our Aries will at Pisces surrender to the Tao, or “The will of what is.” In this way (free of concept), we devote our lives to God as a palpably shepherding presence. Failing to do this, we slip into the sacrilege of forcing or flaccidity. How do we know if we’re waking up? Simple: we’re brave enough to notice how regularly – if subtly – we indulge in both.
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