By Judith Gayle
There are three things extremely hard: steel, a diamond, and to know one’s self.
~ Benjamin Franklin
Astrologers talk in code. Decades ago I learned to erect a chart from the Rosicrucians, who offered free lessons by mail. Back in the ’60s, everything ancient had become “new” again, embraced by a youth culture suddenly open to the wisdom of traditions. Bless the nameless volunteers who filled my mailbox with corrections and handwritten explanations. Astrology seemed very mysterious and abstract, both the math and the language difficult to assimilate, but the challenge was worth it: this was uncharted territory that promised to unravel the mystery of me.
Photo by Jude Gayle.
It takes a while to learn the jargon, and if you aren’t a born astrologer, then you’ll probably move along to other ways of seeing the world. For some of us, that isn’t an option: those of us who think like astrologers just can’t help it. We communicate in symbols. We chart the ebb and flow of energy, practice a kind of informed discernment as we study any given moment or subject. Astrology is very much the art of observation, and its practitioners, witnessing effect, are in pursuit of cause. It’s no wonder, then, that the modern astrological community quickly evolved into humanists.
In trying to explain the process of factoring nuance in a natal chart, I tell newbies that a chart is like a recipe: the planets and houses are the ingredients that mix together to create the primal soup, how well it all blends will define the end result. Most folks don’t care how we arrive at the information, of course, and while they’re interested in the possibility of calamity or boon, most just want to figure themselves out.
At first, there’s a lot of ego reflection in that quest for “specialness,” but eventually we get down to an understanding of the energies as neutral: it’s what we make of them that defines us. In the most mundane sense then, astrology warns of pitfalls and gives permission to explore talents and possibilities we may not have thought our own. In a more profound sense, astrology sets us on the path of discovery and begins to reveal our soul path. The language of an astrologer is the secret language of the self.
As every chart is unique and individual, so is every astrologer. Once the basic symbolism is assimilated, the “art” of interpretation comes into play. Some of us are analytical, some are intuitive. I fall in the latter category and my approach to the information is like my approach to Tarot: it is the focal point for “the voices” within my head to start streaming information. I suppose that’s why my discovery of Dane Rudhyar’s interpretation of the Sabian Symbols in the mid-’70s lit me up like a Christmas tree.
If you’ve ever been to San Diego’s Balboa Park you’ll understand that the light in this part of the world is very special; it often seems infused with gold. To my mind, the park was a perfect location for the channeling of 360 separate ‘visions’ for each astrological degree, accomplished in a single afternoon in 1925. This was a collaboration between Elsie Wheelery, a shy, wheelchair-bound psychic, and Marc Edmund Jones, a popular astrologer of the time, schooled in Theosophy.
A decade later, the work came to the attention of Dane Rudhyar, thought of as the granddaddy of today’s humanistic astrology; I think of Rudhyar as the Noam Chomsky of his time. Fascinated by the symbols, Rudhyar produced a volume called An Astrological Mandala: The Cycle of Transformations and Its 360 Symbolic Phases; a reinterpretation of the Sabian Symbols, presenting them as a contemporary American I Ching.
Taking the 360 descriptions attributed to each astrological point – “blindly” produced without the psychic knowing which sign or degree she was reading – Rudhyar interpreted the human psychology of each in a logical progression, first to last. Establishing Aries as the beginning astrological point, elemental in its energy, with Pisces as the deeply complex ending, the “life cycle” Rudhyar laid out became an instant classic and gained credibility as an oracular medium.
For old hands in astrology, schooled in degrees, houses and aspects, the Symbols are a rich overlay of additional information. For initiates or those interested, looking up the degrees of our personal planets to find a word picture and definition is revelatory. The only tricky thing about finding our personal Sabian Symbols, once we have our chart in hand, is that we must round upwards to the next degree for our information. For instance, if your moon, as is mine, is at 24 Leo 2’11”, then you must read the interpretation at 25 Leo. The psychic picture for this degree is: A Large Camel Is Seen Crossing A Vast And Forbidding Desert.
When I first read that Symbol, over thirty-five years ago, I frowned. Not as romantic as I’d have liked, being my Moon placement and all. Not so shimmery and soft as I’d have hoped. Then Rudhyar took Elsie Wheelery’s vision to the next level, stating that this Symbol was about “Self-sufficiency in the face of a long and exhausting adventure.” I panicked a little, reading that. In my married-with-kids twenties, I wasn’t expecting to experience my emotional life as a long and exhausting adventure.
Next, Rudhyar put it in perspective:
The camel here represents a living organism that is able to sustain itself independently of its environment at the start of a trying journey. The organism carries within itself what is absolutely needed for survival. At the deeper human level of consciousness, it is easy to see the value of self-reliance and self-sufficiency as one enters the occult Path leading to a more dynamic and more inclusive realm of existence.
The camel carries water within its body, and it is said that the dromedary is able to utilize the matter stored in its large protuberance as food. The suggestion here is that in order to be released from bondage to the “old world” we should be completely self-contained emotionally; having absorbed the mental food which this old culture has given us, we are ready to face “the desert,” nothingness, Sunya… until we reach the “new world.” We need TOTAL INDEPENDENCE from our surroundings and utter SELF-RELIANCE.
Getting a handle on that on an intellectual level, I remember being somewhat relieved. Discovering it as a truth in my life over the long and exhausting adventure it’s been, that was something else. Yet too many times to count, as I was able to quiet my emotions, my mind would wander back over this familiar territory, reassuring myself that there is purpose in the journey and that I carry within me everything I “need.” At this stage of my life, I’ve grown into my “inner camel,” have learned to appreciate it, and for over 35 years I’ve been grateful for Dane Rudhyar’s insight into my, sometimes arduous, personal journey.
I realize that it takes a certain amount of audacity to discuss the meaning of these revered symbols, so you can blame my 15-degree Uranus in Gemini: A Woman Activist In An Emotional Speech Dramatizing Her Cause. If you know my work, then you’ll recognize that voice. And while there are those who might do a better analysis of the psychology of the Symbols, my interest here is to bring you along into the flow of Rudhyar’s work. This is information worth mining.
Every spiritual tradition encourages us to come to consciousness by questing to know ourselves. It’s by learning what we actually are, that we are able to lay down all we are not; the inauthentic posture and pose, learned and assumed over a lifetime. As we begin to chip away at all that is not our truth, we may find ourselves comfortable in our own skin for the first time. The more we are able to inhabit our authentic Self, the more we are able to appreciate ourselves and extend that out to those around us. We are not able to give away to a waiting world what we are unwilling to give ourselves, remember? Knowing ourselves is a required inner journey if we are to evolve, and a dog-eared volume of Rudhyar’s Mandala – like mine pictured above – is worth tucking in your pocket.
When we work with our own chart, we can pick and choose which planets to focus upon. I would recommend that you work with Sun, Moon and rising first, as this is the essential triad of your personal energy. Any planets conjuncted to an angle – ascendant, descendant, nadir or mid-heaven – are critical, and of course, opposed by the opposite point. So mark the explanations for the degree of each angle. This gives you a heads-up on the essential thrust of each quadrant.
The highest planet in our chart is of interest in some astrological traditions. To the psychic Edgar Cayce, the highest planet was where we last ‘sojourned.’ In my chart, Venus is conjunct my mid-heaven. That Venus point is in Scorpio, with a traditional explanation that it is in “detriment,” the planet of comfort and love in an uneasy placement. That was cringe-worthy when I was first learning the basics, weighted down by traditional passages warning against my less-than-generous inner nature. I seemed to be at the mercy of such a placement. But it was Rudyhar to the rescue when I read his breakdown of 16 Scorpio 53’22”: A Woman, Fecundated By Her Own Spirit, Is “Great With Child.”
The keynote reads: A total reliance upon the dictates of the God within.
In contrast to the outgoing smile of the girl in the preceding symbol, here we see the result of a deep and complete concentration reaching to the innermost center of the personality where the Living God acts as a fecundating power. This reveals the potency of the inward way, the surrender of the ego to a transcendent force which can create through the person vivid manifestations of the Will of God.
This second phase of the forty-sixth five-fold sequence brings to us the realization of normally hidden potentialities in the average human being of our day. Faith in the Divine is shown here being concretely justified. The human person becomes a “mother of the Living God.” This is THE TRANSPERSONAL WAY of existence. This is the way that leads to creative mutations.
That certainly took the sting out of the traditional meaning of Venus in Scorpio and it aligned nicely with other Symbols that spoke of reliance on superpersonal and transpersonal energies. As the highest point in my chart, that Venus placement has profoundly influenced my life and my livelihood. I should note, however, that it is squared to that pesky camel of mine, sometimes pushing it even farther out into the desert. We can’t forget that what is aspected in our chart aspects our Symbols as well.
As with our planets, some of our Symbols will mean more to us than others. Some we have explored more thoroughly in our discovery of Self. If we are mystified by the translations we read, then they are worthy of our meditation: the essence of Mandala, a thing not understood by the head so much as the heart.
The introduction of the Centaurs in these last few years has only increased the information we can ascertain from our charts, and increased our Sabian influences as well. Factoring in Eris in Aries, I now have a Grand Trine in Fire with my Sagittarian Sun and Mars in Leo. From a Sabian point of view that puts an urge for inner stability, independence and assured resolution of conflict all working in concert with one another.
I find that Chiron is exactly conjunct my Jupiter in Libra, the keynote being to transition while keeping one’s integrity, and Vesta is conjunct my Mercury in Sagittarius, opposing my outspoken activist in Gemini.
The language of the Self as symbols that can lead us into a new understanding of our impulses and decisions; there is so much to discover in Rudhyar’s material. I hope you’ll take advantage of the opportunity.
All 360-degree meanings can be found here; remember to round minutes and seconds to the next degree. And once familiar with the Sabian Symbols, you may want to use them in an oracular fashion, to be found here. But nothing is like the book itself, with its thoughtful introduction. I highly recommend you find one and treasure it, as have I. It’s the meditation of a lifetime.
