Beyond the Book of Jobsby Eric Francis
I think we must, through this discussion, remember the times in which it is happening. Western societies are swimming in a period of change, instability, and to some real extent, collapse and re-emergence. That means we are all on some level participating in these developments, consciously or not. Many are asking: What can I do to help, to participate in the birthing process, and to be present for the whole process of change? This is, perhaps, a bold question, but it's also a sure sign that anyone asking it is awake and alert, and has recognized that their individual life is part of the larger life of the cosmos. Our lives are not separate; but then comes the process of integrating the two hemispheres in some form of choice, action or participation in a way that everyone benefits. This is a very exciting time to be making life choices, and change always creates opportunity. In the gesture of choosing the right thing to do, or embarking on the search, we exercise something called freedom, shaky and tentative though it may be. At the moment, freedom is an extremely elusive concept for most people. Remember how much duct tape and plastic wrap has been sold. Remember how good Homeland Security makes some people feel. We live in times when it's stylish to absolutely freak out at the possibility of making free choices, or stepping over the imaginary red line of fear. I assure you that everyone who has ever accomplished anything they felt was significant has crossed this line and entered the territory beyond it. And as my father says, we are a world of watchers. Work means taking part in life, not watching. In one aspect of nurturing and developing our mission on Earth, we hold a vision, no matter how wild; in another, we act in purely practical ways. This is another way of saying that Capricorn and Sagittarius need one another. Sagittarius offers the vision, ethics, and scholarship, and is the place where the soul comes pouring through -- it's a fire sign; Capricorn gives the application in the world of commerce, politics, and society -- an earth sign. Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter, and Capricorn by Saturn. Often these energies are viewed as adversaries. Years ago someone said to me, if you want to understand these two planets, think of God's hands working on a bowl at a pottery wheel. Jupiter is the hand inside the bowl pushing outward so it doesn't collapse on itself; Saturn is the hand outside the bowl, providing the structure that holds the bowl up. Transposing this lovely metaphor to 3-D, Sagittarius offers the far-reaching possibilities, a sense of mission, and not caring whether something is possible; Capricorn becomes the framework through which we express those things, finding certain limits in the practical world, but also gaining the means of expression: the tools and apparatus. Right now, we're right on the line between these two signs. Before I go much further -- and by the way, I only plan to introduce this topic today, and so will limit myself to 8,500 words to save Internet bandwidth -- I must admit that I cringe a little every time I hear someone say they are looking for a job. This is not to say that people don't find really cool jobs; most of us have had at least one. Rather, I feel enormous compassion for the creativity and individuality that most people are struggling to express, and I often get the feeling that the whole concept of a 'job' is an unlikely way to get there -- at least as most people think of it. At least, we need to think of it differently. And people often sound so miserable when they say, "I need to get a job." I would say, though, that the 'perfect' job is a way to get to where you want to be: that is, a means of earning money through which you express who you are and which gives you room to grow (vital), and/or is a means of supporting yourself that is pleasant enough, interesting enough, and leaves you with enough time and energy to do what else you love. We live in the era of many people having two or three jobs that meet none of these qualifications. In fact, I hear nervous laughter rising from the audience. What's worse, most people don't associate their daily work with what they want to contribute to the world, nor do we often get a chance to truly do something we are proud of, whether for its high quality or its excellent effects. At best, most people like an aspect of their work: maybe it's interesting one day a week, or they like the clients in the dental office and that makes it bearable. We can do better. I'd like to use astrology to plot the way forward, into the present -- but first, I think it's a good idea to look back at the past, our individual past, and ask the question: when you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? I'll share a little of my story; our professional lives have a storyline, and it's good if we know what that story is in a way other than our resume. One's resume is usually an outline of our work history that's marked more by its omissions than by what's there. You need a resume, and you need the real story for your own reference. Doing Dr. Seuss's "My Book About Me" was the first time I was polled about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I answered: artist. I can still see my five-year-old handwriting scrawled in big capital letters. I often remember this. Still a kid, I went through a phase of wanting to be an ob/gyn (um, to deliver babies -- seriously; I hung a shingle on my door, read a lot of medical books and slept next to the Periodic Table of the Elements, which I would study every night before falling asleep). Next, I embarked on a very long defense lawyer phase. F. Lee Bailey was my hero. I took the O.J. trial hard. Then right before high school, I discovered journalism when I became editor of the summer camp newspaper, The Thunderbird (at Camp Timberlake, a Quaker camp in Plymouth, Vermont). This is also where I became Quaker. It was a big summer. All along, I was becoming a more dedicated and proficient chef, and I also liked dining rooms and waiting tables quite a bit. I've held many restaurant jobs and trained with some very cool chefs. Cooking was one of my most important ways of expressing my independence as a kid, and this emerged, I think, from a nutritional disorder I have, called celiac. Later on, I was accepted at the Culinary Institute of America. But journalism and publishing (including the whole mechanical part, typesetting, designs, darkrooms, etc.) got me going like nothing else before, and I've been doing both pretty consistently since about 16 years old. When I was about 12, I wrote a book called "How To Become a Pro Football Player At Home In Your Spare Time," with a matching matchbook cover featuring Joe Namath missing a tooth. This was a parody. It's funny how some things are revealed early on; I was 18 when I did my first major article on dioxin, as a student, on the proposed resettlement of the contaminated Love Canal neighborhood in Niagara Falls, NY. Dioxin-like chemicals later came to be my sole identity as an investigative journalist, and I am still in occasional contact with two of the people I interviewed for that first article in 1983. Lawyers, particularly environmental and civil rights attorneys, have been some of the most important people in my life, and my professional life -- and among my best sources and inspirations. They have protected my journalism with great consistency. I am still fascinated by the law and the courts, and take every possible opportunity to talk to a lawyer; I consider them modern-day rabbis, that is, learned men and women. Every now and then a little voice in my mind comes on and says, "You could still go to law school, you know." And I say, "No, thank you." Through college, doing much journalism (from Gonzo to serious investigative), magazine editing and political work, my first mature career goal was to be either managing editor of a national newsmagazine (probably Time), or United States Senator from New York State. Hillary now has the job that I once wanted. She can keep it. In 1986, on the verge of graduating college, everything changed: I had a serious incident on the drug Ecstasy, which sent me into a partial mental breakdown. This was at the peak of my Chiron first square, though I had no idea. At the same time, a fairly major political campaign I had engineered was in hot water, though we pulled through. But suddenly I plainly saw the necessity for politicians to lie, and, having tasted that fruit, I knew then that I didn't want to live that kind of life. Meanwhile, Chernobyl was spewing radiation around the world, and I knew that, at some point, I would need to work on environmental issues full time. Yet at that moment, I was immobilized, physically and mentally. From that place, I found A Course in Miracles and commenced my 'formal' spiritual path. All the old bets were off. Around this time, during a meditation, I saw myself in a vision. I was seated on a ledge, looking out at the stars through a window in the universe. I had no idea what this meant, but I drew it in my journal. My spiritual work became a major part of my life; I brought out three books of poetry, self-published. At the same time, for the next five years, I went full-throttle into a career as an independent journalist and publisher, doing two of those years as a political reporter and trade journal editor (I covered the liquor industry and the AMA). In 1989, right after the coronation of King George 1st, I quit my last job, headed to the mountains of New Paltz, and founded Student Leader News Service -- providing news to student newspapers across New York State. The Associated Press showed up and interviewed me and my new friends about our project. Just about every daily newspaper in the state carried the story. This was very cool. One morning in 1991, I was awakened by the sound of fire engine sirens going right past my girlfriend Sabine's window. These were fire trucks responding to the electrical disaster at the State University of New York at New Paltz, where the campus was at that moment becoming contaminated with PCBs and dioxins. Through the end of 1994, I devoted my life to covering these chemicals. That culminated with this article: http://www.sierraclub.org/sierra/200103/conspiracy.asp This piece, which took two years to write, came out exactly at my Chiron opposition -- as exact as the events of 1986 [bad trip, Chernobyl, political campaign, graduation] came with my Chiron first square. Though I had found some real successes as a reporter (the Sierra piece was a major watershed, The New York Times was also covering my work, and Woodstock Times gave my articles page one placement many weeks) I was deeply frustrated. The closer to the truth my investigations got, the less people seemed to care. One day around that time, in the fall of 1994 in fact, I quit investigative reporting and decided that it was time to be an astrologer. My background was seven years of Tarot practice, A Course in Miracles, nine months of astrology study, some therapy, and three years of reading Patric Walker columns in stark and utter amazement. This last one was the credibility factor -- for astrology, that is. Through all this, there were plenty of struggles. My father seemed never to approve (we get along great now, but I learned self-respect). Investigative journalism seems to never not be an uphill struggle. Mean people resist. I was emotionally very unhealthy -- but I had started therapy and got lucky with an unusually talented therapist. At one point I had to sue New York State, which had banished me from the New Paltz campus. Many of these years I had to scrounge for money, though friends would often help (thank you Chris, Jerry, Aunt Josie). I got arrested covering stories a few times (the charges were always dismissed; thank you Mike Sussman and others). Mainly, I kept going, six or seven days a week. Writing kept me grounded. It still does. "Keep writing and eating food," I tell young writers now. That's what it takes. Can we really explain any of this? Do we need to? Perhaps. I have Chiron in Pisces right on my midheaven. Think: diversity; intensity; service; something unusual; breaking the rules; and something a bit desperate to heal -- on the midheaven, meaning something collective, dealing with the body politic. More of my planets form a streak in Aquarius across the 9th house (scholarship, international affairs, the higher courts, religion, libraries and computer networks); then through Pisces into my 10th, the house of government, corporations and one's own professional life. I also have Vesta (obsessive service; transference of relationship energy into work) conjunct my Aquarius Moon (humanity, science, and invention -- in the 8th, the occult, secrets, sexuality, addicted to intensity). I think I live my chart; but somehow that didn't take astrology to do. Astrology just helped things makes more sense. It was in the moment that I saw the extent to which I was living my chart, particularly discovering those Chiron transits, that I had no choice but to dive all the way into astrology and really learn to do it well. I vividly remember standing in my friend Pat's kitchen with the timeline of the transits in my hand, staring at the page. That was the actual moment of my conversion. It is, of course, best to live your chart, no matter what chart you have. You don't need an 'exciting' chart, but if you want good, fulfilling work you do need to access the resources you happen to have, work with the limitations that you have, and fulfill the mission you need to fulfill. To do one's real work, there is a necessary element of, 'I must do what must be done', and generally it's not a conscious thought. It is intuitive, and we all know how easy it is to ignore intuition. One hurdle many people need to leap over is that one's true work is not just about oneself. There is part of us that says, 'This is going to be about me!' Self-awareness is essential, but it's just the beginning. Work is about the people you help, whose lives you touch, the ones you are involved with, those you serve and those who serve you. In this process, there is not a lot of room for what some call 'ego'. There is a lot of give and take. Then, the money aspect must be addressed. Many, many people have this feeling that they don't want to be paid for the good that they do. And I ask: So should you only be paid for the evil? Given all this, you can be sure that I don't have anything vaguely resembling a normal outlook on careers. And you can see why I am perfectly qualified to write Planet Waves. Hopefully I can put this mild touch of madness to work for you. Normal is boring. Here's the real nut: I never believed that my actions don't matter. Never for a day, going back to when I was really little. The first phone call I made on my own, not counting 411 two minutes earlier, was to the City of New York, to complain about a traffic problem on my street. It never occurred to me that the city would not care. New York City! I wish I had a tape of that. I've also been willing to ask for help, to receive that help, and to offer help where I can. If you want to do your best work, get used to this. You have to be a bit of a politician -- the real kind, who gives in the spirit of giving, and who asks for favors in the spirit of solving his constituent's problems. You have to test the boundaries of life, and to set up your organization, and work the system a bit. As for astrology -- I have seen some stunning successes working with clients who experienced awesome professional developments in the context of chart work. Most of these were the result of using their biography and their astrology to determine exactly, precisely what it was they wanted or needed to do now. Then I would say, Yeah, sure, you can do that, or, Why not? It's a big world; you can find that. Then, remarkably, it has had a way of happening. Most people face an inner block: we somehow became convinced something (or anything) we want is impossible. Some authority figure said it, or the world conspired against us; that block needs to be addressed. Sometimes it's fear. The fear needs to be addressed. Often there is the factor of patience: once the goal is set, getting there can take time and faith. But it usually takes less time and that faith comes far more easily when there is some enthusiasm. Enthusiasm is essential. Enthusiasm, in terms of its Greek roots, means filled with entheos -- the living spirit of God. The poet Adrienne Rich once wrote, "Language is a map of our failures." I used to run a resume service, as one of my side businesses. My clients and I worked on those resumes. We made them creative, assertive and glowing like metal; and they got the right results -- in every case. A well done resume goes a lot further than your average one, and by well done, I mean well-written. We would also rehearse job interview skills and plot strategy. These are vital skills, and they can be learned. I also did a lot of motivational coaching for my resume clients, and not so bad typesetting. I charged about $10 an hour for this. My sense is that as long as you're striving to do what you're good at, and what turns you on, you can succeed and have fun. Yes, the labor market is saturated, but it's saturated with mediocrity. So fire up your engines; sharpen your pencils; pull up your socks; and remember that old line from Hunter S. Thompson, the doctor of journalism: when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. Oh, did I mention passion? One's real work always comes with a measure of this, often a lot. Passion is heartfelt lust. Passion is the need to get the job done magnificently. But we live in such a blasé, dispassionate world. People think the world is a Gap ad, where you stand around posing. You're going to need to figure this part out: your real work, or doing any work well, involves following your passion. You absolutely, positively must have fun. In this spirit, the sign on my front door says, "Lick Bush." What you do has to turn you on. I am aware of how nervous some people get when they get turned on. Get over it! You've got work to do. And please don't worry what your friends or your sister in Kansas City will think. I'm going to start the do-it-yourself part of this project with proposing three exercises, pre-astrology. If you'd like to work through this process, I suggest you start a notebook, and I'll propose some journaling exercises, and then some astrology exercises next week. 1. What is the history of what you wanted to be when you grew up? How did that play out in school, and after school? What did your parents tell you should be, or that you would be good at? What do you know about their choice of careers, or lack thereof? Break each of these parts down please. 2. What is the history of what you actually did for work? In all walks of life: school, early jobs, volunteer work, professional positions you had for ten years or three days, personal creative work, hobbies and so on. What do you feel you have accomplished? ('Nothing' is not an acceptable answer.) What awards, honors and promotions have you had? 3. What are your talents? I call this the personal resources inventory. Include everything from planting tulip bulbs to your knack for fixing the dishwasher; from typing 41 words per minute to not being terrified of the Windows 98 operating system; from giving good massages to writing convincing notes to your kid's principal; if you can play one song on the ukulele, include it. And if you don't have it -- please get your natal chart from Astro.com. We will be needing it. Next week, I'll discuss the difference between the 6th house of work and service, and the 10th house of your profession and achievements. ++ This essay is from a prior edition of Planet Waves Weekly, which also comes with Eric's weekly horoscopes. You are invited to subscribe here -- subscriptions start from just $8.95. Planet Waves Home | What's New | Horoscopes | Subscriber Login | About Subscribing |
