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Chapter 11
Drawing Down the Fire of the Gods:
Reflections on the Leo/Aquarius Axis
A picture is worth a thousand words, they say. So when I was asked to distill some ideas for an issue of The Mountain Astrologer devoted to the Leo/Aquarius axis, I immediately thought back to one image that, to my mind, best captured the essence of this zodiacal dynamic:
Two or three children on a playground, laughing and singing in blissful abandon, while circled around them are a dozen scientists in white lab coats, carefully observing and recording every move for a research study on the nature of play.
As with all symbolic images, this one offers a number of diferent levels of meaning, and for that reason provides a useful point of departure for exploring a few of the many themes associated with the Leo/Aquarius polarity. As I hope to make clear, understanding this vital zodiacal polarity is not only important for understanding our personal horoscopes, but for unlocking the significance of the pivotal historical period we find ourselves about to enter: the much-heralded Age of Aquarius.
The Dance of Fire and Air
Where does one begin when trying to understand this polarity? One way is to consider the elemental symbolism associated with these signs: Leo represents the principle of fire, while Aquarius represents the principle of air.
First, let’s look at fire. Of all the elements, this is the one most associated with life’s vitality itself. Like our children romping on the playground, Leonine fire is the principle of pure experientiality, of being-in-the-moment. At its most spiritual, Leo therefore exemplifies the ideals of courage, enthusiasm, and even spontaneous, enlightened awareness. The Buddhists have a saying: “Spontaneity is the mark of the Buddha.” Leo embodies this spontaneous, playful awareness at its most dynamic, with its fixity compressing this essence and burnishing it to a diamond-like brilliance. At its worst, this same principle can express itself as self-centeredness or an inability to stand outside one’s own perspective in order to see things—or oneself—objectively.
On the other end of things, Aquarius expresses the principle of air, the element most associated with the principle of rationality, and mind. Like those scientists on the fringes of our theoretical playground, air stands outside the field of activity to best observe and conceptualize it and systematically relate it to other ideas and systems. In contrast with the fiery principle of pure being, Aquarian air represents the principle of understanding.
At its highest, Aquarian air therefore confers the objectivity and the discernment necessary for effective decision-making, planning, and clear communication. Your ability to read these words right now are made possible through the mediating element of air. But at its worst, Aquarian air can be detached to the point of coldness, standing so far outside of direct experience that it loses touch with the emotional realities of both oneself and others. The famed detachment of Aquarian former president Ronald Reagan offers an example of this.
But how exactly do these different archetypes interact with one another? Traditional astrology informs us that fire and air are complementary and feed one another in symbiotic ways. But, as we shall soon see, the truth of the matter can be far more complex than this.
The Individual/Group Dynamic
As individuals, how do we reconcile our own needs or behaviors with those of the group? And in turn, how does the group impact on our personal lives?
These are just a few of the concerns driving this zodiacal polarity. On the one hand, Leo stands for the principle of the reigning individual, shining before all in his or her uniqueness. At the other end, Aquarius is the common person, mingling with the masses. In political astrology, Leo is therefore associated with government by monarchy or theocracy, where power is focused in a single royal or religious figure, while Aquarius relates to democracy and government by the common man/woman. In short, Leo rules from the top down, whereas Aquarius rules from the bottom up.
Whenever this zodiacal polarity is prominently displayed in someone’s horoscope, we often see a concern with integrating personal values with those of the collective. When Leo is more dominant (say, by planetary emphasis), individuals might gravitate toward positions of eminence, toward being the ringleader in social undertakings; but with Aquarius more emphasized, the individual may feel a greater attunement with the group, the masses.
Sometimes, the house placements involved hold the decisive clues as to which direction this will take. For instance, one client of mine had multiple planets in Leo positioned in the 1st house, opposing Aquarius planets in the 7th. Throughout her life she found fulfillment as a charismatic motivational speaker standing before hundreds or even thousands of people. With Leo so prominent in the 1st house, she enjoyed the role of "star" to the hilt. Yet another client of mine had virtually the same planets in the same signs, except positioned in precisely opposite houses (Leo on the 7th, Aquarius on the 1st). For her, this polarity manifested as the compulsion to attend workshops led by charismatic figures and to identify with the masses rather than take on the starring role herself.
On the global scale, planetary configurations involving these two signs often bring about historical events which dramatize that group/individual dynamic en masse. When Leo is dominant over Aquarius, for example, there may be events which highlight the ability of lone rulers or nations to affect larger collectives, constructively or destructively. As one example, a much-talked about solar eclipse in August of 1999 featured a powerful Sun-Moon conjunction in Leo, and opposing planets in Aquarius — Leo dominant over Aquarius, in other words. On the exact day of the Full Moon after that eclipse (traditionally, a major trigger mechanisms for eclipses), Chicago’s O’Hare airport, one of the world’s largest, was essentially shut down for hours because of a lone individual bolting the wrong way through a security checkpoint. As one TV commentator remarked later that evening, “This incident illustrates how a single individual can disrupt the entire system.”
On the other hand, a good example of how the collective might impact the life of a single individual or leader would be the Gulf War of 1991. The most significant outer-planet aspect taking place during this conflict was Saturn in Aquarius opposite Jupiter in Leo. (The war itself lasted from mid January to early April; the Jupiter-Saturn opposition was exact on March 15, 1991.) This powerful dynamic found explicit expression in the host of international players involved in the conflict: George Bush and his coalition of nations (Saturn in Aquarius), collectively setting limits on the expansionist ambitions of a renegade would-be king, Saddam Hussein (Jupiter in Leo). In a stunning example of historical synchronicity, this event was paralleled by another development that erupted into public attention during that same period: the Rodney King incident, which came to light in early March. In a manner almost identical to the United Nations’ actions toward Hussein, this urban incident likewise involved a band of disciplinary figures (Los Angeles policemen) beating down on a lone “expansionist” figure, a speeding motorist—by the last name of “King,” no less!
With the slow rise of the Aquarian Age, we are already seeing the erosion of longstanding monarchies, and their replacement by democratic forms of government. And in many of these instances, we find powerful configurations occurring in the signs Leo and Aquarius as well. To cite a classic case, all of the major events of the French Revolution occurred in tandem with powerful astrological aspects between Leo and Aquarius (chiefly centering around a major Uranus-Pluto opposition of the period). 1
A contemporary expression of this same archetypal trend has been the increasingly aggressive behavior of the media toward royalty in recent decades. A prime example was the tragic death of Princess Diana in 1997. On hearing news of her fatal accident while being pursued by paparazzi, I remarked to the person with me at the moment that it would be worth looking for any oppositions between Leo and Aquarius at the time of the crash (Leo ruling royalty and Aquarius ruling the mass media). “In fact,” I added, “it would be especially fitting if it turned out to be the Moon in Leo, since Princess Di is a symbol of female royalty.” Lo and behold, on drawing up the horoscope for August 31, 1997 (12:25 a.m. CED; Paris, France), that's precisely what I found: Moon in Leo opposing planets in Aquarius.
Stardom/Privacy
Princess Diana’s life and death call attention to another expression of the Leo/Aquarius axis in our own time, that of the curious phenomenon of celebrity. As suggested earlier, Leo is the sign most commonly associated with society’s “stars” — and quite fittingly, too, since it’s the only sign governed by an actual star rather than a planetary body. In older times, the stars of our world generally consisted of political or religious leaders of one stripe or another. But with the advent of modern telecommunications and pop culture, we’ve witnessed a newfound democratization of celebrity, with the opportunity for ordinary people to rise up out of complete obscurity into positions of fame. Theoretically, at least, anyone can become an object of worship now, and attain their own “fifteen minutes of fame,” as Andy Warhol described it. Disposable deities, you might say.
But this newfound opportunity, provided by mass media, telecommunications, and social media, comes with a price. While each person now has access to the eyes and ears of the world, so the eyes and ears of the world now have growing access to our personal lives, through information about our spending habits via credit cards, our communications through phone records and Internet messages, and even data about our actions in public places via surveillance cameras and spy satellites. Movies like Enemy of the State or The Truman Show dramatize this predicament through stories of individuals whose personal lives are subjected to pervasive high-tech surveillance.
Creativity
Another key concern of the Leo/Aquarius axis centers around the expression of creativity in our lives. At the one end, Leo expresses the notion of personalized creativity — the lone artist painting in his loft, or the musician composing at her piano, for instance. On the other hand, Aquarius governs all forms of group creativity, where individuals band together to merge their creative energies toward a single project. A modern example of this would be an average film production, where one might find literally hundreds of individuals pooling their energies toward creating one movie.
In actual practice, of course, the notion of “group creativity” is a double-edged sword. At its best, it gives us ensemble work of the most brilliant type, as with films like The Godfather, Citizen Kane, or 2001: A Space Odyssey, or through popular musical groups like the Beatles. To my mind, the modern symbol that best captures the essence of Aquarian group creativity is that uniquely American art form, jazz. In contrast to Piscean-Age art forms like the Gregorian choir, where individual creativity is surrendered to a higher ideal, the jazz band encourages group cooperation without denying individual creativity. A thematic structure is still followed, yet it's loose enough to allow for personal freedom of expression. That's a description which also applies, incidentally, to the political structure of a nation like the United States, with its 50 independent states that ahere to a federal constitution. On a technological level, Aquarian Thomas Edison pioneered a jazz-type approach to innovation with the unique workshop environment he developed, which saw an entire team of thinkers pooling their efforts toward conceiving new inventions.
At its worst, the notion of group creativity calls up images of faceless bureaucracies, or “beehive” societies, where individual creativity is essentially squashed by the collective machinery. One doesn’t have to look far to find examples from our own time of the way creativity has become constrained by corporations and the “vested interests of the stockholders,” to cite just two cases. Nowadays, independent artists find themselves faced with the Faustian bargain of compromising their visions by having to contend with virtual armies of marketing consultants, corporate bureaucrats, and test audiences to get their work out into the marketplace.
But as bleak a scenario as this may seem, I believe there is still reason for hope. While there's no doubt the world has become more corporatized, we still manage to see impressive books, films, and musical compositions emerging out of the system with some regularity. Also, the Internet has introduced a new wrinkle by allowing independent artists to use modern telecommunications for displaying their works before a worldwide audience, thus bypassing the corporate distribution process. Even in the corporate setting, the “jazz” approach has had an impact on the managerial styles of some businesses, with lower- and middle-level employees given greater input in running their companies. So while we have a long way to go, to paraphrase Mark Twain, reports of the death of modern creativity may well be greatly exaggerated!
Pleasure
A close cousin to creativity on our chain of correspondences is the notion of pleasure, with each end of the Leo/Aquarius polarity approaching this area in its own unique way. For instance, Leo governs pleasures of a more personal sort, such as with adults having a romantic affair, or children romping on our proverbial playground. By contrast, Aquarius governs group pleasures involving many individuals together, as we might see in a theme park like Disneyland or Universal Studios. In such environments groups of individuals come together and might take a virtual ride into outer space, venture down simulated jungle rapids, or thrill at the sight of electronic dinosaurs clawing at them. But perhaps the most pervasive form of Aquarian pleasure in our time is that of mass entertainment, expressed through media forms like films, TV shows, or radio broadcasts. With a television show, for instance, it’s possible for millions or even billions of people around the world to enjoy the same show at the exact same moment.
Examples like this point up several other key aspects of Aquarian pleasure, such as its heavily technological nature, which would include video games, virtual reality devices, and even Internet chat rooms—as well its more cerebral character. As an admittedly extreme example, just imagine an Internet party of astrophysicists swapping jokes about the Grand Unified Theory! In contrast with the immediacy of Leonine play, Aquarian pleasure generally involves an element of detachment where the participant is somehow removed from the heart of experience. Not unlike our scientists standing outside of the playground looking in, an average TV viewer experiences the action vicariously and indirectly, more as a spectator than a player. And notice the impersonality implied here as well: With an ordinary television show, you can have literally millions of viewers sitting around at the same moment, watching the same event — yet all of them are completely separate from one another. So it may well be that the Aquarian Age will usher in a time when we all “come together as one” — though this could well take a more technological turn than many are expecting.
Chance
In traditional astrology, gambling is said to fall under the rulership of the 5th house in the chart — the house naturally associated with Leo;2 To my mind, this has always concealed a deep esoteric truth. Why? Because in addition to being a form of play, gambling — like most of the other areas we’ve been exploring thus far — involves a certain element of chance, of randomness. For whether we talk about romance, creativity, conception, or childbirth, we are, in each case, looking at something essentially spontaneous and unpredictable. Conceiving a child is one of life’s greatest crapshoots, not only in terms of whether pregnancy will occur but as far as the kind of child one might bring into the world.
Correspondences like that open a window onto a deeper truth of both Leo and the 5th house, namely, that the spontaneity expressed in these areas reflects the free-flowing qualities of Spirit itself, of that innermost fount of consciousness where energy unfolds openly and intuitively, unfettered by logic or calculation. In moments of play or creativity, we tap into this divine, creative source of being; that's even reflected in our use of the term re-creation when describing ordinary pastimes. Gambling likewise stems from this same divine impulse, though for more distorted and self-aggrandizing reasons.
So how does this principle of spontaneity or chance manifest when filtered through the opposite sign of Aquarius? For one, it gives rise to mass games of chance, as well as technological and corporatized forms of chance. In stark contrast with the more traditional scene of a few individuals standing around throwing dice into the dirt, the emerging Great Age has already introduced bustling amphitheaters that accommodate thousands of individuals playing electronic slot machines side by side. The house of worship for many these days is a modern-day shrine to chance like a Las Vegas casino, where an entirely new different of gods is invoked in the hope of altering one’s fate. In a more positive way, our earlier example of the jazz band might reflects a more Aquarian approach to chance, since it's based on the concept of group improvisation, a creative form based on one’s response to the unpredictabilities of each moment.
Environments like Disneyland or Las Vegas also express a distinctively Aquarian approach to chance in their shared concern with controlling the unpredictable. At an amusement park like Disneyland, for example, engineers take activities which traditionally involved huge elements of risk and bring them under tight supervision, in order to best provide the customer with all the thrills and vicarious enjoyments of chance-laden experiences, but without all the messy randomness and unpredictability. Rather than risk one’s life going out on a big-game safari, one can experience a simulated version of the same thing, all from the safety of your electronically guided car.
And, while childbirth has always been one of life’s more unpredictable activities, scientists are learning how to reduce the element of chance there as well, with new advances in fertilization and genetic engineering. The striking film, Gattaca, features a scene that beautifully illustrates this dilemma: Set at an unspecified point in our future, a couple comes into a fertility clinic to consult with a corporate counselor on planning out the features of their next child. The counselor tries to convince them to go all the way and pick out every characteristic of their future child; but they are resistant, wondering if it wouldn’t be nice to leave just a little bit to chance and randomness. The counselor seems perplexed as to why anyone would even want to leave any part of the conception process to chance. In much the same way, the Aquarian society of our future may be one where, for better or worse, we attempt to control as many elements of randomness and unpredictability in our world as possible — in short, to harness chance.
This same archetypal polarity may also explain efforts by modern scientists to unlock the "laws of chance" in many different shapes and forms. Entire disciplines have sprung up over the last century which attempt to uncover the hidden order beneath life’s apparent randomness. These disciplines include statistical theory, Quantum Physics with its notions of "probability theory," the revolutionary new science of Chaos (complexity), and even the emerging field of synchronicity studies. Consider Chaos theory, for example. Researchers contend that by carefully observing the complex behaviors of phenomena previously thought to be purely random (say, the behavior of motorists on a freeway or gas molecules moving about a room), it's possible to discern the hidden laws that govern these patterns.
In our personal horoscopes, significant aspects between the signs Leo and Aquarius sometimes indicate an effort to balance personal spontaneity with the restrictions of social convention. At their most constructive, our collective behavioral codes serve to channel or restrain the wilder expressions of our fiery personal impulses — the result being a little something we call “civilization." In our own horoscopes, configurations between Leo and Aquarius can act themselves out through our interactions with those around us, with others mirroring back one or the other extreme of that polarity. As just one example, individuals with a prominent Leo/Aquarius might themselves be largely spontaneous, while their spouses or business partners might be heavily rational or detached in their temperament, or vice versa.
The One and the Many
Another metaphor that I find useful in explaining the distinction between Leo and Aquarius draws from the field of medical astrology. Traditionally, Leo is associated with the heart while Aquarius is often associated with the distribution of the blood via the arteries. Viewed symbolically, that tells us an important insight into the archetypal processes underlying these two signs. Simply put, Leo is the principle of centralization, while Aquarius is the principle of decentralization.
This dynamic helps explain several of the areas we have been looking at thus far. For instance, when we say that Leo rules government by monarchy, we understand it is because monarchy centralizes the power of the nation into a single king or queen, who is analogously the “heart” of a country; by contrast, democracy decentralizes power to the furthermost “branches” of society, i.e., ordinary men and women. Whereas Leo is the principle of the One, Aquarius is therefore the principle of the Many. Or think of this visual analogy: Leo may be compared with pure white light, while Aquarius could be compared to the prismatic breaking up of light into multiple colors, into a spectrum. Hence, while Leo is more monolithic in focus, Aquarius has a more kaleidoscopic agenda, with its greater emphasis on diversity.
In light of such correspondences, it is not hard to understand why Aquarius is symbolically linked to systems, networks, and associations of all kinds. On the global scale, that may suggest that the next Great Age will be an era of complex alliances and networks of many types—political, social, or technological . Systems within systems within systems. We even see the multi-perspective qualities of Aquarius in such modern developments as postmodernism, with its splintering of traditional Truth into multiple truths and world views — but that’s another essay altogether!
When unity-minded Leo is added to the Aquarian mix, we find a concern with creative networking, or with unifying diverse elements into an overarching network. Examples of this on the collective scale would be organizations like Jesse Jackson’s “Rainbow Coalition” or the United Nations, where we see diverse peoples or races joined together in their common interests. On the level of personal horoscopes, this axis is often emphasized in the charts of thinkers or philosophers with a capacity for synthesizing diverse ideas and intellectual systems within unifying paradigms. Examples of this would be Carl Jung (July 26, 1875), H.P. Blavatsky (August 12, 1831), and the founder of psychosynthesis, Roberto Assagioli (February 27, 1888), all of whom suggested new ways of synthesizing or reframing traditional ideas. A more recent example would be transpersonal psychologist Ken Wilber (January 31, 1949), whose horoscope features a prominent link between these two signs. Over the last two decades, Wilber has been involved with synthesizing diverse systems into unifying frameworks of various types. Fittingly, perhaps, the title of his first published book was The Spectrum of Consciousness.
Leo and Aquarius in the Chakra System
I believe it’s possible to uncover a still deeper level of meaning to this zodiacal polarity, by considering where it falls in the context of the yogic chakra system. As I discussed in chapter 6, many esotericists, both East and West, have suggested a close relationship between astrological symbols and the psycho-spiritual system of the chakras. According to this set of correspondences, Leo is associated with the point of the “third eye” (Ajna chakra), while Aquarius relates to one side of the lowest “root” chakra (Muladhara).
Correspondences like these reveal new insights into the host of associations we’ve been examining thus far. With Leo, for instance, traditional associations like creativity, pleasure, spontaneity, or even centralization all take on added significance as echoes of the spiritual center at the level of the forehead, commonly described as the seat of creative, visionary consciousness. On the other hand, the scientific detachment of Aquarius assumes new meaning when viewed in relation to the root (Saturn) chakra, the point of the chakric ladder farthest away from the third eye. Like our scientists on the outside of the playground looking in, consciousness at this level is likewise “outside looking in” relative to the “playground” of pure being concentrated in the Ajna chakra. (Remember, “upper” or “lower” in the chakric hierarchy does not mean “better” or “worse” in any absolute sense, since each chakric level has its own “spiritual” or “unspiritual” modes of expression.)
Power, Will, and the Promethean Axis
Also consider the closeness of this zodiacal axis to the central spinal column, referred to by yogis as the sushumna, the pathway of kundalini energy. While it would be wrong to suggest the Leo/Aquarius axis is identical to the kundalini force (Leo/Aquarius being more masculine and forceful in quality, and more akin to what the yogis refer to as the “right hand” channel of pingali), it arguably comes closer than any other polarity in the zodiac. As anyone who has studied charts for any time knows, the Leo/Aquarius axis (and its corollary planetary aspect, Sun conjunct Uranus) taps into something profound within our nature, something closely related to consciousness itself at its most dynamic and luminous.3 Might this even explains why imagery of laser beams or “light sabers” have come to hold such power for movie audiences these days, as we shift into the next Great Age?
As this polarity expresses itself through the Aquarian end, we often find a hidden urge with this sign to take “higher” energies and apply them to everyday situations, as in the case of an inventor. A modern technology sometimes associated with the Leo/Aquarius polarity is that of solar power, and, to my mind, that offers a useful symbol for understanding the archetypal dynamics underlying this polarity. In the same way that solar power technology “draws down” energy from the Sun for use in everyday life, so Aquarius may be said to “draw down” energy from the Ajna chakra into the realm of physical-plane concerns. For this reason, we might call the Leo/Aquarius polarity the “Promethean axis” — Prometheus being the mythological figure who carried fire down from Mt. Olympus to humanity.4
As we shift into the Aquarian Age, we see numerous ways in which “fire” is already being “drawn down from the mountain top” into daily affairs: politically, through democracy; economically, through a capitalistic system that shifts wealth from a ruling elite into the hands of ordinary entrepreneurs; technologically, through electricity which makes the once awesome power of lightning available through small holes in the walls of our homes, or through atomic power, which literally harnesses the powers of the Sun for human use; and intellectually, through the democratization of knowledge made possible through books, magazines, and the Internet. In recent centuries, we’ve even seen renewed interest in the Prometheus myth itself, as with the writings of Percy Shelley (Prometheus Unbound), or his wife’s famed novel, Frankenstein (originally sub-titled The Modern Prometheus), which continues to captivate audiences with each new generation.
Yet, as Mary Shelley’s story of Dr. Frankenstein also shows, great power is accompanied by great responsibilities as well as great dangers. The Leo/Aquarius axis may well be called the “third rail” of the zodiac, since tapping into it can be an electrifying, even lethal experience. Classical mythology offers numerous warnings about the problems of unwisely acquired powers, of course, but during the last century we’ve witnessed countless real-life examples of what happens when power is wielded without the counterbalancing forces of feminine compassion or reflectivity. The ability of a commoner like Hitler to rise from the lowest ranks of society into a position of global power is only one testament to the perils of “playing with fire,” politically or psychologically. Hiroshima and Chernobyl offer equally dramatic examples of this danger on more technological and scientific levels.
In terms of what this axis indicates in personal charts, one could speculate about the alternately tyrannical/subversive streak that sometimes accompanies this polarity. But whie that wouldn’t be entirely wrong, the problem with it is, it's only one piece of a much larger puzzle. So when consulting with clients, it is always important to note the considerable positive potentials contained in this axis as well — creatively, socially, intellectually, and, as we are about to see, spiritually.
The Mystery of the Sphinx
The metaphor of solar power provides us with one last insight into Leo/Aquarius experience, that involving its unique relationship to mysticism. Just as solar power draws down the fires of the Sun into everyday use, the Leo/Aquarius polarity concerns the drawing down of “spiritual fire” from higher states into more personalized contexts, such as through a more individualized approach to spirituality. In pre-scientific cultures, for instance, “Divinity” was viewed in largely Leonine terms as residing in certain individuals like the King, Pope, or a God utterly beyond ourselves. But with the emerging Aquarian mythos, we are increasingly seeing the democratization of divinity, where Spirit is recognized to reside with each man, each woman.
In personal horoscopes, an emphasis on the Leo/Aquarius polarity often signals an interest in “personal empowerment,” either in spiritual or psychological ways. The chart of TV talk show host Oprah Winfrey (January 29, 1954) features a powerful configuration between Aquarius and Leo, for instance.
At its most sublime, the harmonizing of Leo and Aquarius expresses a truth that holds special relevance for men and women of our time: the reconciliation of the divine and the human. At the outset of this article, I proposed one image to convey some of the qualities of this zodiacal dynamic. In closing, I would suggest another, very different symbol to express the perfect integration of these polar opposites: the Egyptian sphinx. In this timeless image we see the merging of the lion and the human bodies into one. However the Egyptians themselves may have intended this symbol (and there isn’t complete agreement even among Egyptologists on that point), it’s possible that the growing interest we’ve seen in this archeological wonder during recent decades stems directly from its archetypal numinosity as an emblem for our emerging spiritual potentials.5 This was something William Butler Yeats seemed to have anticipated even a century ago, when he penned these lines in his poem that anticipating (or bemoaned?) the coming Aquarian Age, “The Second Coming”:6
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man ....
References and Notes
1. There is some controversy whether it is appropriate to relate configurations taking place in tropical Aquarius with the essentially sidereal Aquarian Age, since these have become dislocated from one another through time, due to the “sliding zodiac” problem. It's my own belief that there is always a symbolic resonance between the tropical and sidereal versions of any sign, even when widely separated from one another—though that connection is undoubtedly stronger when the two signs in question are exactly synchronized (as happened roughly 2,000 years ago).
2. By house rulership, gambling is conventionally associated with the 5th house, while, by planet, it is associated with Jupiter. My own sense is that while both of these significators are associated with matters of chance or spontaneity, Jupiter more emphatically expresses elements of risk-taking and “luck” (good or bad) than either the 5th house or Leo by themselves.
3. The entire fixed axis (Leo/Aquarius/Taurus/Scorpio) is closely associated with psycho-spiritual “power,” but with certain distinctions between the dual polarities involved. The Leo/Aquarius axis expresses a more masculine, outwardly forceful aspect of consciousness, whereas the Taurus/Scorpio axis expresses a comparatively feminine and more emotional aspect of spiritual power. In the context of the chakras, this distinction is visible in the way Leo/Aquarius is more aligned with the vertical path of the spine, whereas Taurus/Scorpio extends out horizontally toward the secondary channels of ida and pingali — the domain of shakti, or cosmic feminine energy.
4. My use of the Prometheus story in describing the Leo/Aquarius axis is partly inspired by Richard Tarnas’s insightful writings on Prometheus and Uranus, though I've applied them here in a zodiacal context. Tarnas’s views can be found in his book, Prometheus the Awakener: An Essay on the Archetypal Meaning of the Planet Uranus, Woodstock, CT: Spring Publications, 1995.
5. There have been numerous efforts in recent years to determine whether undiscovered chambers may still lie beneath (or around) the Sphinx, most of them inspired by Edgar Cayce’s prediction about a great “Hall of Records” coming to light at the end of the 20th century. Whether or not any such records exist at this point beneath the Sphinx, there is good reason to believe that important findings of some sort await us in this area. Should any of these turn out to be revolutionary in significance, it’s safe to say their discovery would represent important milestones in the unfolding Aquarian mythos, and should be examined in terms of their astrological timing.
6. Willam Butler Yeats, “The Second Coming,” The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats, New York, NY: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1974.
Reprinted from The Mountain Astrologer, February/March 2000
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