Perhaps you have heard the phrase, “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius,” the famous song title form the musical Hair in the 60's.
What exactly does this mean?
Aquarius is an air sign, a thinking sign. This despite the ancient image for the celestial constellation of Aquarius which features a man pouring out water. What is presented by the "water bearer" is the notion of "humankind," the human race collectively, without reference to gender. In ancient Chaldea the constellation Aquarius was drawn on stones as a human pouring out water. In some old star atlases the water flows directly into the mouth of the next sign, Pisces (the Fish). The water is symbolic of celestial waters and could have its origins with the rainy season. On a symbolic level, the water can be seen as Aquarius quenching our thirst for knowledge.
Today, August 24th, 2006, the International Astronomical Union or IAU "demoted" Pluto from being a planet to being what they call a "dwarf planet." Not only will this affect uncountable millions of schoolbooks around the world but science museums and planetariums all over will need to make adjustments as well.
Of course this has consequences for astrologers too, as now we will be asked more frequently: "Why do you bother to work with Pluto when it is not even a planet!?"
"Three is the formula of all creation."
-- Honoré de Balzac
These are trying times. Even if you aren’t a news junkie and even if you live off the grid somewhere in the woods, it is nearly impossible to miss the collective sense that huge changes, many unpleasant, are afoot. Television specials and YouTube videos show impending annihilation from asteroids, global warming threatens all of us, and a global economic collapse has begun to unravel our lives on countless levels.
In such times when old paradigms don’t answer questions and when the basis of what we believe seems to crumble, there is a tradition to call upon astrologers to give a larger context to collective and personal disintegration. The following is one astrologer’s answer to this call.
"If my devils are to leave me, I am afraid
My angels will take flight as well."
-- Rainer Maria Rilke [i]
In a monastery in medieval Europe, an upstart monk was misbehaving. "How do we know that all the words we are copying over and over again in these texts are accurate?" he asked. "If a monk made a mistake 200 years ago, we'd still be copying that same mistake, no?" The abbot reluctantly agreed with the smart aleck and promised all the monks that, on the morrow, he would compare their work with the original texts that were kept deep in the vaults below the monastery. The next day, as the abbot descended into the forbidden, stony depths, all the monks gathered excitedly at the top of the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, they heard a woeful cry of agony from below. The abbot emerged, clutching his head with both hands, and exclaimed: "The word is celibrate!"