Astrology has long been used by us to help us better understand the future and ourselves. Humans try and divine the future with anything we can get our hands on – sticks, dirt, animal entrails, and of course, the sky. Planets were so named because when observing them, they wander across the heavens. In Greek, planetes translates as ‘wanderers’. Based on their color, brightness, speed along the ecliptic, and motional behaviour, we made assumptions about their natures. The sections of the sky were ascribed qualities based on the fixed stars there, as well as the quality of the season that transpired as the sun steadily crossed them.

I remember the first time I heard the word “horoscope” when I was young. It sounded dirty and forbidden. I remember reading descriptions for my sun sign and dismissing it, because I didn’t feel so connected to what was said. I remember the first time I calculated my birth chart online. I did nothing more with that chart than google the placements of my Venus, Mars, Moon, and decide whether or not the scarce and limited descriptions I found fit me. Slowly I also began to gather birth charts of those around me and do the same. But there was no real meat behind what I found.

Then that changed. Learning the basics of traditional, hellenistic astrology completely blew open my mind beyond that blurry examination of personality. I started listening to The Astrology Podcast, started following horoscopes by Austin Coppock, by Adam Elenbaas. I read Chris Brennan’s book, and then Demetra George. Eventually I began reading translated hellenistic texts to get at the source.

The first year or so of listening to the podcast, all the information simply flew over my head. Then, in a 9th house profection year, I started paying closer attention. I grew hungry for the technical information. It all clicked together. The rationale was elegant. The experience was eerily similar to learning a language. (I am still learning- I am only conversational, not yet fluent.)

It is a tiny bit terrifying to look up the dates of major events in your life and compare them to your chart, to look at your annual profections and zodiacal releasing and see each event being matched and predicted perfectly. It’s a sinking cold feeling in your gut, yet also deeply exciting, when each further date you examine, each period of your life, is mirrored in the techniques you learn.

Looking at and confirming the past is one thing, but then seeing what events are to come in the future is even more of a shiver. It’s all very, very creepy.

This predictive astrology is nothing to do with personality, but with concrete analysis of the course and quality of one’s life and of each topic within the life. Want to know about money, or career, children? Parents? Marriage? Travel? Health? Family? Friends? Propensity to be harassed by spirits? There’s a specific quality and timing that can be determined for each one.

How the hell does this work? How did we learn how to do this? Who taught us this, or did we teach ourselves? That question pierces you at first, but soon falls away as useless. Does it matter how it works? All that matters is that, well, it does work.

And then, you have to laugh out loud when you realise that no one in your life is going to understand or take seriously what you understand from this divinatory tool. However, that is completely acceptable. Actually, it is preferable. Astrology is better when it’s not in common use or belief. It’s a niche advantage.

(I suggest any non-astrologer who has a serious curiosity about the matter, or wants something to be proven to them, either take up the study of traditional astrology themselves, or quicker and more effectively, book a reading with a competent and well-known traditional astrologer. I haven’t had a reading done yet for myself, but some day in the future there is one waiting for me.)

But, what about that first astrology I met? The modern, psychological kind? The kind that seemed to do nothing “real”, besides gives descriptions I could either agree or disagree with? Venus in Pisces means you are vulnerable and foggy when in love. Mercury in Aquarius means you speak logically and uniquely. Moon in the 8th house means you take emotional comfort in “transformation” and morbidity. Mars in Scorpio gives you an unrelenting intensity. Saturn in the 12th makes you prone to isolation.

Each of those placements can concretely point to a single event, or pattern of events, in my life. They speak to factors outside of me that befall me. There’s no argument or confusion in that. Yet they at the same time manage to describe my personality and mind. And it’s only when looking back at these psychological descriptions, after understanding the traditional meanings and predictions, that they actually begin to make sense as parts of my psyche.

When you read in Firmicus’s or Rhetorius’s delineations that “The native will be burned alive. […] Before the last day of his life the native will have activities connected either with fire, weapons, or violence of some kind, or torture or homicide” …

or that “the greatest good fortune and great fame-consular or proconsu­lar power result [because of xyz placement]”… “the native grows rich from matters having to do with the dead”… “the native will wander in foreign lands” … “he will gain an inheritance, but squander it. He will then eventually gain it back.”…

or that “he will always have friendly ties with men more powerful than he; and will lead his life in the midst of public activities; his occupations will be around water; he will never be attacked by hostile accusations” … 

Or that “[xyz placement] brings death from kings and great men”…

Well, that all seems very dramatic. Hellenistic astrologers tell you the most extreme possibilities. If someone’s prediction for their death is that they will be burned alive, or eaten by dogs- okay, great, interesting, but what does that look like in the manifestation of their personality? Can the reasons you would predict a certain outcome for someone, also be used to predict or describe their psyche? If it works, then it illuminates something immensely fascinating about the way the world works and the way our minds are tangled up within it.

Though, hopefully, no one gets burned alive, eaten by dogs, or killed by a king. But what does it mean that one descriptor is able to cover both predictions- that of the psyche, and that of physical events? Of course one affects the other… but some events show up unaccounted for. 

I don’t know. I don’t have an answer.

However, I find it endlessly empowering to be able to name parts of myself. There’s an explanation in my chart for everything I feel or have felt inside of myself, for all my habits and aspects of my mind. This understanding has unfolded slowly for me, but I gain fresh insights each time I re-examine my chart with new knowledge. Any behaviour I exhibit? Any preference, tendency I have? It’s in my chart, and I can know it and see it. Even aspects of my appearance, sexuality, my eating habits, the way I dream. The fact that I am a painter who paints a certain way. The fact that I am in this moment writing a blog post about astrology at all. 

If I want to understand or work on some aspect of myself, I can point to it in my chart. I can name it. I can even speak to its archetype, if I like. I can light candles and make petitions, prayers, at appropriate times, with appropriate accoutrements. How beautiful to be able to segment and study myself in this way. It’s like having a set of cheat codes, available only because I can understand and navigate the programming underneath.

When something in my life doesn’t go my way, I can look at the malefic responsible. I can walk up to him, hold his stare, feel his qualities, and say, “Ah, yes, it’s you who describes this particular misfortune. Could you please, next time, turn away from me when you are angry?” Am I engaging with a real entity when I do that, or only the psychological construction of one in my mind? Again, that hardly matters, as long as it aids my understanding of myself and the world.

My serious astrological studies are still very young, and for the moment I intend to keep them (mostly) only for personal use. I understand my own chart best. Daily transits are something to keep notes on, but it’s the cycles which last many years that are going to be most notable when I am older and looking back. (Hi Saturn!) But I do see that this is a key asset that will accompany me for the rest of my life. I will turn to this system of divination whenever I want a deeper, more analytical look at something, or someone.

Of course, to a certain extent, I don’t need the chart of anyone else to navigate my life. My own chart describes all situations and people present within that life.

What is inside of you is what is outside of you. (!!!)