Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

The positive side of Vata

The weather has turned, the vata is high, and there is an incredible sweetness in the air. It’s as if the door is officially closing on all that swept by us in summer and fall but just before this threshold is completely closed and locked (until next spring when, gods willing, it will open up again) we get a few final glimpses into what feels to me like a condensation of sunlight. The quality of light changes, right around now, to contain less heat but an altogether new quality of brilliance. And that effulgence seems to be locked in the leaves that change from green to gold, then rust and brown, but it lays itself along the dry grasses and bare hillsides as well.

It feels to me like a celebration of the immanent loss of the beauty of a season; almost like a funeral. There is sadness in the change but also gladness in the sensation of movement and the necessary renewal that takes us into a darker season. And a bitter-sweet taste in the knowing that we get to be a part of this unlikely festival of colors, flavors and sensations.

In this moment I’m reminded of—because I am in contact with—the positive qualities of vata. As a reminder, vata is one of three doshas or constitutional factors which is made up of air and ether, making it the lightest, driest and most mobile of the three. Vata is actually considered the cause of all disease and is present whenever there is pain. Because this season is light, dry and mobile (windy) by nature, we are in the heart of vata, particularly if you live in a place that is already windy, dry and especially elevated. And if you also happen to be of an older age you are also in the vata time of life. If you also happen to be in a planetary period ruled by a vata planet (Such as Saturn or Rahu) then you are really in for a whirlwind. Best to balance yourself by introducing opposing qualities: stability, weight, warmth. These are the qualities of kapha, the constitution that is primarily earth and water.

As I was saying, vata gets a bad rap but as with everything in nature it is not wholly “bad.” Not at all, in fact. The lightness and mobility of vata allow those under its influence to possess subtlety of perception, which is critical for any type of spiritual development. Vata is sensitive in general, and if this sensitivity can be directed in the right way can connect an individual with states of consciousness which require that we are a little less tethered to the material world. The lightness of mind also gives access to creativity and an unending flow of inspired ideas. The problems begin when these inspirations are not at all anchored in reality, because vata needs a place to land.

So the liabilities and assets of the season are basically synonymous with those of the vata constitution. There is potential for great creativity, subtlety of perception and deep meditative states as well as the possibility of getting blown around a bit too much and drying out mentally, physically or energetically. If you notice yourself lifting off into the ethers then tether yourself to the ground either through diet (heavier, oilier and saltier foods) or conscious contact with the material world in other ways. Avoid exposure to the wind as much as possible, as this can whip the mind into a frenzy.

But do enjoy the quiet that is accessible at this moment, even inside the bustle of the city. There is an internal quiet—and I dare say: surrender—as our bodies mirror the world outside which so beautifully consolidates its energy without neglecting to do so beautifully.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Bhadaka, Blockages and a new way of Navigating

Experience seems to be defined as much by our blind spots as our clear vision. I have at times felt myself to be a walking blind-spot, aware in a peripheral sort of way of all the things I’m missing, but not quite able to put my finger on either what they are or how to tether my attention to them.

The foremost blindspot in the system of Vedic Astrology is called “bhadaka” and refers to a blockage causing area in the chart which can cause all sorts of confusion, mistakes and even health issues. The person’s life can actually end up being built around this bhadaka, if it ends up being a prominent feature of the chart, because they have to compensate for all the things they’re not seeing. Let’s say this blockage is happening in the 7th house. This is the place of relationship, which is seen on the other side of the eastern horizon from your ascendant. So the 7th house in your chart contains the stars that are just about to move below the earth at the moment you are born. This is supposed to be the person who stands across from you in life; who you’re looking at.

If this is a blockage-causing area, as it will be naturally for all those with Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius or Pisces rising, then difficulties in this area can become center-stage in your life and everything else must take shape around that. Bhadaka can be a bit like a kink in the fabric, causing everything around it to be slightly distorted because of it. For dual ascendants (the ones I just listed) the blockage usually arises from problems with seeing another’s perspective. There is a tendency to become fixated on the way they think things should be, or an assumption that everyone else will or should have the same viewpoint as them. Frame-switching can be a nice exercise for these people, attempting to really inhabit the viewpoint of the partner in conversation.

the blockage usually arises from problems with listening. There is either selective hearing or inattentive listening or preconditioned expectations about what they’re going to be hearing from their partner, etc. So bringing your full presence to conversations with partners becomes important

For other ascendants it will be either the 9th house of teachers and authority figures or the 11th house of gains and goals. (To understand what the hell I’m talking about when I say “houses” check out the upcoming basics course). For fixed ascendants (Aquarius, Taurus, Leo and Scorpio) the 9th house is the area of blockage, which can be with authority figures, father, spiritual life and dharma or purpose. The root of this is in the faculty of touch, or emotional sensitivity. These people can tend to become blocked on the level or emotion and this impedes their ability to move forward in a natural way. So being aware of emotional or physical numbness is a good exercise here.

Moveable ascendants (Capricorn, Aries, Cancer and Libra) are naturally blocked in their 11th house, which is related to listening. There is either selective hearing or inattentive listening or preconditioned expectations about what they’re going to be hearing. So bringing full presence to conversations, particularly with friends, is important. I’ve noticed that with these ascendants the ability to fully listen can be impeded by the conversation that is happening in their heads which tends to be louder than any other voices which might intercede (including the voice of nature). These people are also of “moveable” nature, inherently (in contrast to the fixed and dual nature of other ascendants) and so it can be that their fast pace is contributing to the inability to stop and listen to the cues around them which might actually allow for proper goal setting (an 11th house activity).

Outside of the actual house of blockage there will also be a blockage-causing planet (bhadakesha) which can wreak havoc in the area of life it is placed in in the chart. For some people neither of these areas is going to present a big problem in life. For others it will be a center piece, depending on placements. If the bhadakesha goes to sit in the rising sign then the individual carries this blockage around with them everywhere they go. For this Vedic remedies are prescribed to bring some clarity into life.

The surest way to become “blocked” is to not actually know where you are. It’s impossible to navigate when you aren’t sure where your current waypoint is. So, regardless of astrological particulars, I was thinking this morning of the importance of context in becoming “unblocked.” The lunar node Rahu is considered to be a universally blockage causing planet, and he tends to take us into our heads and divorce of from the intelligence of the body. So context can include where in space and time you are, where you came from (historically, ancestrally, geographically), what’s going on in your body (maybe your blood sugar is low, maybe you’ve been feeling depleted for years, maybe you just had a jolt of caffeine) which will set the stage for what’s going on in your mind, what’s going on in nature around you (season, weather, stage of growth of particular plants and animals), and also what’s going on in the stars (which will be driving many of the other contextual factors already considered).

Bhadaka and blockages tend to bring about a misty, hazy sort of unknowable feeling of confusion and disorientation (this is the planet Rahu by definition). So the lower you can get to the ground by way of making friends with your environment in the ways just mentioned, the better you are able to navigate by a different sort of vision. With your center of gravity lowered, you may not be able to see where you’re going but you might just be able to feel it. Encountering bhadaka and blockages is the ideal place for development of intuition, which involves deeply getting to know the sensation of being blocked, maybe beginning with befriending the cloudiness of confusion and descending into its own intelligence from there.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Time for Prayer

To me, right now, there is nothing more beautiful than prayer. And perhaps nothing more necessary. I don’t mean the type of prayer that is asking for money and recognition and material resource. I mean the type of prayer that is a reaching outside of oneself to make contact with the wide world that’s been neglected. This type of prayer guards a precious little space for something to come in and speak to you, to stir your heart into motion and memory.

I am convinced that the lives of humans was once infused with prayer. Ancient holy texts are written in poetry as if it was prose, suggesting that this was the way people spoke in their everyday lives, constantly praising the beauty and magnificence around them. There was also a clear understanding that this praise and prayer was a requirement for life to keep on living. To retract into the internal world and neglect the complex mechanics of nature was not an option—that would be personal and collective suicide.

So it is interesting to observe the world we live in. The continual interchange between human and nature is moderated mostly by machines and specialists so that the average person has little to no knowledge of even the names of grasses growing in their neighborhood, or the meanings of different cloud formations and the weather they portend. And of course most of us can hardly see the night sky to know its stars. If you let in the totality of this loss for even a moment it will shatter your heart. What we have traded for what have gotten has left us in a type of moral, spiritual and natural poverty that is nearly indigestible.

My personal position with the various ecological crises, climate change and the like is that certainly we must act to do whatever we can to reduce our impact on the planet, and all the other measures which are required at this time. But just as important is to feel the grief of the situation we are in, and the breadth and depth of our disconnection from nature, which will be mirrored in our relationship with our own bodies.

Most of us are so rootless—not just as individuals, but as a species with a diminishing memory of the cultural richness we came from—that we do not even understand what has been lost. The last decade of my life has been a search for a tenable root which I could tether myself to so that I might grow into something organic. The search began as an unconscious escape from emotional pain but has evolved into something with more substance and several substantial roots which I am grateful for everyday.

In my mind the two most important action steps for our species are (1) prayer—because the depth of the aimlessness is beyond our individual lifetime and experience and requires divine grace which is absolutely accessible to an open heart, and (2) to begin digging for roots.

In many mythologies the stars are the tips of the roots of trees growing in the world above ours. The stars have been my greatest points of orientation, and the study of Vedic astrology a living root which I could graft myself to. Most of us are transplants in some form or fashion, and descended from people who have been running for a while. The ancestral tendency is to continue running, either physically or psychologically (the most extreme form of this being mental illness like schizophrenia) so as not to get hit with the full impact of the grief accumulated over generations. In the running we have lost our roots and because of that don’t know what we are actually running from, or don’t realize we’re even running.

There is a certain amount of faith required in the decision to stop running, and often it only happens when it is forced upon us. For me this began when my career as a collegiate long distance runner ended in repetitive injury. I was very literally running from something and was devastated in every way when I could no longer rely on that escape. So I tried other forms of exercise to numb myself and in this way injured almost every tendon and ligament in my body. So I ran instead from Wisconsin to Utah. When what I was running from again caught up with me I ran into spiritual retreat and an ascetic lifestyle, then caffeine. The story goes on, the list of creative ways to escape myself turning into a long list of unconscious violence against myself.

What I’m getting at is that I suspect that most of us are doing this in some way, and it is not because we are bad people or dumb or incapable, but because at this point in human history we all come in with a backlog of undigested grief which is nearly impossible for one individual to face head-on with consciousness and particularly with no spiritual resources.

But if we continue running there will always be the sense of dissatisfaction, meaninglessness or that nagging emptiness. Because the ancestor in you remembers a life filled with magic, prayer and relationship with nature. If we are to get anywhere near that living reality again we must first walk through the forgetfulness, numbness and grief. And to even get to that threshold we need a root.

So, I’m offering one root among many: an elegant system of astrology whose inner mechanics are completely dependent on the five elements being the connective tissue between the stars, the, individual and the earth. From here we can see what we are running from, what we might be blind to, what the sky (and thus Nature) is asking of us and what the consequences might be if we continue to resist. And of course the horoscope teaches us how to pray, and which type of prayer might benefit us most: who to pray to, when to pray, what areas of life have been waiting for the food of prayer and are starving (and because of this taking chunks out of our life in various ways).

The bottom line is: the story written in the stars at your moment of birth was your gift. It is a bit adolescent to resist it and complain of “fate” and continue leaning in to an ideal and illusion of freedom while nature suffers our collective indulgence. No one benefits. I am not saying (nor have I ever said) that the chart and your life are completely fated and there is no free will. I don’t even think in those terms. My personal goal is to lean into my birth chart as much as possible so that at some point there is absolutely no resistance. Then I am a living prayer, embodying as closely as possible that particular flavor of the sky at the moment I was born so that is might sing its unique song until the flame goes out and I dissolve into the grass or the sky or the song of a bird at dawn.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Points of Orientation: a personal example

Whenever I am unsure about what I should be doing or what the events are my life are telling me I consult first the astrological chart, and then pull up google earth in my browser. I type in my location and watch the screen cross the globe to land right where I am. I research the place’s history, native habitation, ecological factors and current cultural characteristics. I get oriented. This takes a bit of time and, especially because I am on the move, is not always easy. To know a place—like a person—requires the development of a relationship of mutual respect.

But it is important (in my view) to know a place. Like each unique horoscope, each place contains certain signatures and stories alive within it which will impact our lives in that place, often unconsciously.

So, here I am in Northern New Mexico having reached a moment of confusion (any moment of confusion is a gift, as it requires us to dig a bit deeper into the problem and emerge with new answers and insights) regarding a story that seems to be playing out through me.

So I begin with my embarrassing little Wikipedia search which tells me: “Ojo Caliente (an upscale hot spring/spa just a few minutes from me) is one of the oldest health resorts in North America. Tewa tradition holds that its pools provided access to the underworld.”

Yes of course! I’m in the underworld again. I can’t seem to get out of there. I would guess that the underworld in the context of Tewa tradition is not an altogether negative place, but a place of immense power, mystery and access to other worlds. That is to say: not necessarily comfortable for the day-to-day living of most individuals. And so this gives some meaning to what’s been rolling through my life since I’ve landed here, and now I can begin to work with it consciously instead of being flung around on its wings blindly.

And then I can look to my horoscope and see that harsh desert environments in general activate a difficult place in my chart (this I figured out while in Utah) shown by the sign of Scorpio (scorpions live in deserts) which always sets me up for some deep learning and letting go and spiritual growth which have historically required quite a bit of effort. AND I can see that the planetary period I’m in amplifies this place in my horoscope in such a way that I would be drawn to these very desert environments which are challenging. When things are difficult it’s nice to be continually reminded that they are also incredibly magical.

From here I can go even deeper into the lives of the Native people who have been so harassed here, the whole shit-show of the weapons testing which occurred very nearby and which brought the underworld into the daylight world in a way we can never reverse. So this will all align in various ways with my own story in ways I can begin to resolve here, if I choose to consciously approach the unfolding mythology.

And I can use the horoscope as another point of orientation, which will show me my weaknesses and strengths (even elementally) and timelines for what might be ahead. This is a short demonstration of how any one person can go from feeling burdened and chaotic to feeling elevated by the ways in which their life is entangled with larger presences, even if those presences are not of the rainbows and unicorns variety.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Eclipses, Alchemy and Waking Up

There is a change of tide in the skies, as Saturn comes out from under the eclipse of the lunar node Ketu (a shadow planet which steals the light of any celestial body it crosses) which has been taking place since April. Simultaneously the tension engendered by the cluster of planets that have been in Virgo over the past several months playing out the dramas related to combustion, planetary wars, enmity and friendship begins to clear, leaving only the Sun and Mars to work out their differences.

I, myself, feel like the straightjacket of Ketu (the body of the cosmic snake) has been suddenly loosened and can begin to see the blind spots that had been held in tight secrecy over the course of his eclipse. You might feel this, too, as you suddenly see the dysfunctional habits you’ve been living with or the aches and pains you’ve been blocking out or the ways you’ve been contributing to your own problems. This is what eclipses do: they block our vision in certain areas so that we have to navigate as best we can in the dark only to later realize the gaping hole in our awareness when it suddenly blindsides us on some idle Sunday (like today!).

The potential benefit of this is that when the light finally returns (the eclipsing planet passes) the acuity of sight we’re granted can allow us to see unconscious patterns and crutches we’ve been carrying around for much longer than the meager course of the transmitting eclipse. Because the planet that has been under eclipse is Saturn this can relate to health, discipline, hard work and limitation, depressive states of mind and negative attitude as well as pessimism. It’s possible that suddenly you see an erroneous idea you’ve been carrying around for a while in one of these areas, or a false and unnecessary ‘mood’ that became locked onto you at some point in time, which is not your true nature. it’s like a lightbulb is suddenly turned on and you realize that what you thought was your medicine is actually your poison, or what you identified as you is more like some foreign body that attached itself to you. Enjoy this! There might be no greater sensation than the expansion of awareness.

The phenomenon of eclipses and the way in which our lives are tethered to the motion of the planets through the stars provoke (at least for me) a fair amount of existential questions. I think it is essential to have a wide-angled view of these elements of our existence in order to weather the storms as well as orient our lives according to the cardinal directions of the things which are most essential to us. It is easy to get blown out to sea and disoriented when seemingly ethereal phenomenon such as the movement of stars come crashing into your life in the form of very concrete events: a health crisis, the disintegration of a relationship, the death of a loved one, for example. All of these events will have been provoked by celestial phenomenon. And not for no reason. It is critical not to remain too long in survival mode “just trying to get through.” That is not a place to live; that is not actually living, and I’m not a Christian but I’m pretty sure that is not what God intended for us.

As far as I can tell, our lives are the material for a grand alchemical operation of which Nature is in charge. Every thought, emotion and event experienced is a substance (the prima materia or raw matter) which wants to be continually refined by the various operations provoked by the sky: a calcination, a dissolution, a coagulation. These are all alchemical operations meant to perfect the material which is the subject. And I do not mean ‘perfect’ as in make flawless; it is a refinement of its essential nature which I see as a realization o four own nature. But one can imagine that the material itself does not always feel comfortable inside these alchemical operations. Who wants to be calcinated (effectively turned to medicinal ash)? And what does dissolution feel like? Doesn’t sound like something you could sleep through. But of course, the point is not to fall asleep but to WAKE UP.

If we can approach the various discomforts of our lives not as problems to be fixed (an approach very much born and bred into the American Mind) but as material which wants to be refined and made more subtle, then we can get inside our own experience and begin to take charge of the internal processes taking place. Instead of being unconscious victims to our experience we can be conscious contributors to our own transformations.

Astrology for me has been a way of getting inside the processes taking place inside my own life, understanding some of their mechanics and beginning to work with them instead of against them. This is what I attempt to do for others as well: to orient them inside the unfolding of their life—where they are inside their own story, what pitfalls to avoid, what potentials they might maximize, what demons to watch out for and which ones to befriend; and most of all to convey the fact that there is meaning in the journey, however perilous it might be at any given moment.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

The Creature Beckons: are you listening?

The shifting of the seasons always seems to be such a ripe time for insight into the intimate intricacy with which we are entwined with nature. Even though I am acutely aware of the dropping temperatures and the whipping wind—both signs of fall and vata season, during which time those with vata proclivities (a predominance of air in their constitution) can become easily imbalanced—I still cling to the patterns that were wrought in summer. I gravitate toward the same foods, the same routine, and demand the same energy levels from my mind and my body.

The last few days I’ve begun to feel the consequences of that obstinacy and my resistance to change. It continues to amaze me how entrenched we can become in the ideas we have about what is best and the sense of morality which can become entangled with these ideals. Today I was finally able to allow my mind to be still (made more difficult by the wind whipping up vata all around) and drop into what I am beginning to think of as “the creature”—my body, and its storehouse of intelligent built up not only over my lifetime but infused in my DNA from countless generations of ancestors who also had to build acclimate to their environment—I know immediately what must be done, and I see the way the fixation of ideas in my mind made me completely numb to the larger context with which I am embedded.

There is no purpose served by anyone trying to move against nature. Even the enjoyment that was derived from certain lifestyle factors in summer won’t be found as enjoyable in fall and winter. The creature needs different things in order to feel comfortable and harmonized in different times and seasons. Attempting to enforce a strange pattern which is out of alignment with the cloth of the season only divorces us further from the health we are attempting to create (both internally and externally).

I know these things. And still there is that resistance, born (I believe) from the innate human aversion to change. I wonder at what age it finally dawns on us that resistance is truly futile. it seems the lesson must be learned countless times before the message is finally delivered.

I see this in terms of planetary movements as well, which are constantly in flux and delivering different aspects of our karmas to our doorstep. There is the desire to always want things to be nice, to resist the difficult transits and planetary time periods and wait expectantly for the positive ones. I think this causes us to skim over and miss out on some of the lessons that can be extracted from challenging experiences. We just try to ‘get through’ instead of really hunkering down and getting our hands dirty. It’s in that moist, rich soil that life is actually happening, and if we attempt to remain unsullied we never might never quite take root inside our own lives.

What if the approach was shifted? What if instead of moving always toward comfort and ease and potentially missing the depth of experience we all subconsciously desire we decided to instead actively move toward depth and consider any comfort that comes a fringe benefit, not required but of course appreciated when it arrives. And what if instead of resisting change we sought it out—not in a compulsive way, but by listening always to what nature might be asking us to let go of, to add on, to attend to and to consider Her lighthouse to guide our movement. I think our species is capable of this approach to life, because I think at one time this was how our ancestors moved. They had their eyes on a different prize than the iPhone and the mansion in Beverly Hills. They understood that their life was a gift and that their lives must be continually calibrated to the will of Nature, who required continual feeding in order for life to continue to live. Their ears were attuned to sounds and cues now hidden beneath the roar of highways and the blasting of what can I think almost unanimously be considered absolutely terrible popular music.

Those ancestors are still alive in us in the ‘creature’ I mentioned earlier. We all have this sense of knowing embedded in us, it is just a matter of slowing down and becoming quiet enough to listen. I think it is essential to do so now. You might just hear nature’s roar inside you and suddenly understand where your effort and attention needs to be directed.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

An Inner Momentum

We’ve just passed through the center of the tropical year, when the quality and quantity of sunlight changes. In fact, our entire relationship with the entity we call the sun shifts at this time of year. If you’re sensitive and paying attention you will feel the way the sun changes. There is a moment (particularly if you’re inhabiting a desert, like I am for the time being) when you realize that instead of hiding from the intensity of the sun’s rays at midday you seek them out for their warmth. The planet that was cruel in the summer becomes friendly in the winter. And this is the case astrologically as well, as there is a principle in Vedic Astrology that after the spring equinox the sun and the other malefic planets (mars, Saturn, Rahu and Ketu) function as malefic in the sky, generally creating disturbance and suffering in our lives (as well as some positive experiences like an ability to work hard and bring healthy discipline into our lives), but once the relationship between earth and sun shifts after the autumn equinox these “malefic” planets actually function as benefics and vice versa (benefic planets—Venus, Jupiter, moon and mercury) behave more like malefics.

This is interesting for several reasons, one being the way it shows us the inherent relativity of ideas of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ or ‘benefic’ and ‘malefic.’ It reminds us again that everything should be contextualized. Ayurveda (the system of health associated with both Yoga and Vedic Astrology) says the same thing: one person’s food can be another’s poison, depending on individual constitution, environmental factors, stage of life and even ancestral diet. It would be too easy to categorize everything on earth as either inherently good or inherently evil (as many religions are fond of doing).

I see the way this principle can work just by observing how life can change in the colder seasons. We generally need to put forth more effort (to stay warm, to shovel snow, to navigate different roads, to handle the relative lack of sunlight, etc) and so the malefic planets which bring effort into our lives (mars with physical exertion, Saturn with discipline and limitation, Rahu with creativity and a certain unruliness, and Ketu with spirituality) help us to survive this challenging season. In this way they become our friends. Conversely the benefic planets which are more concerned with enjoyment (Venus), peacefulness (Jupiter) and the intellect (Mercury) are not going to be of all that much help when it’s 5am and you need to leave for work amidst a snow storm with your car plowed into the curb (for example).

We are entering the season in which nature seems to be asking us to build an inner strength. Fall, in particular, can be a time of adjustment to this new calibration of effort, so allow yourself some time to consider where you want to put your efforts in the coming months (maybe challenging yourself in ways you neglected in the warmer months, or confronting some fears that have gone un-checked) to make the season not one of suffering (for those who hate winter) but one of inner growth.

Consider facilitating this process on a physical level through a gentle cleanse to reset your digestive fire and clear away whatever internal confusion which might have accumulated during the indulgences of summer. It’s always nice to wipe the slate clean in the transition months of spring and fall, when the body naturally wants to detoxify.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Midwifery of a Moment

I find myself in Espanola, New Mexico right at the initial lip of fall, just as the leaves are beginning to dry but at the precipitous moment before they change color. The rattle of the aspen leaves in the desert wind—which now carries in it that foreboding freshness which will eventually turn to the icy cold breath of winter—seems to be the most gentle motion nature can make, like a lullaby sung to a child as its falling asleep.

The pace of life is slow here; light and sound pollution are less of a distraction than in the city. Last night I saw Jupiter and Saturn dancing through the early evening sky—Jupiter in the heart of the Scorpion and Saturn in the elbow of the centaur (Sagittarius) as he pulls back the bowstring. The mythology is alive up there in the sky, playing out right below our awareness—particularly if we do not have access to an un-congested night sky—just like the beating of our hearts. And the particular position of the planets at different points in the constellations are relevant: Jupiter in the heart of Scorpio is doing very different work than Jupiter at its tail—the most dangerous part of the Scorpion.

The story is alive inside you also. The Vedic idea is that your soul chose to be born at a particular moment when the planets were aligned in a certain way to deliver to you the karma that you were meant to come in with, based on actions in previous lives. It’s as if the sky birthed you, and your mother’s contractions were just waiting for the Moon to move a little more deeply in Taurus, or for the Sun to combust Mercury so that YOU could be perfectly constellated.

There is no ‘overcoming’ your horoscope, because the whole thing is inside you. In many cases it is actually driving your desires. And it would be an affront to nature to attempt to somehow be free of the entangled web of elemental karma we were born into. Like the fascia of the body, this web of connectedness actually supports our whole existence. Without it we wouldn’t be here.

Coming to terms with the x-ray of the causal body that is the Vedic birth chart is simply about understanding what nature is asking of you. And much of this will depend on where you are in the story that is unfolding through your life. If you are in Rahu’s planetary period then nature is asking you to explore the extremes of the mind through creativity and perhaps some amount of shapeshifting while developing tools to deal with the concomitant anxiety and lack of clarity that can result, as well as learning to not trust all of your thoughts. If you are in Sade Sati (Saturn’s 7. 5 year transit of the natal moon) then nature is essentially milking you in an attempt to extract an essence. Both of these junctures can take the individual into what feels like the underworld. And good to know that’s where you are if it applies! All of the stories point to the necessity of the underworld experience for anyone who is to become an initiated human being, capable of bestowing their unique gifts on the world upon return to the daylight world.

The way to withstand the vicissitudes driven by different planetary periods or transits or natal configurations is to actually sink in a bit deeper. Commit to being here and listening as deeply as possible to the nascent sound that is trying to be born through the shape of your life, which can contribute to the ongoing orchestra of the world. When we are distracted (a form of escape) the sound becomes muffled and we feel ourselves isolated and our existence meaningless, or some part of us feels continually dissatisfied.

Maybe you are in a moment of intense confusion, where what’s been working is no longer working but you can’t quite discern what it is that is approaching on the horizon. Sink into that feeling of confusion: what are its qualities and textures, where does it live in your body and what repetitive thoughts does it produce in your mind? Get to know it. It is a part of the moment that’s trying to born into your consciousness. And notice your inherent aversion to what it is you are experiencing. it is the habit pattern of the mind to react to negative experiences with dis-taste, and my feeling is that if there is any free will it is in the rewiring of that habit so that your entire experience can be approached with wonder and curiosity rather than fear and control.

So maybe tonight you can wander out into the street and take a look at the sky. Feel into the qualities of the moment (maybe there are sirens shrieking through the neighborhood, or the sound of neighbors laughing through open windows, or a stellar sunset and a refreshing breeze. Consider that there are babies being born in that same moment who might be carrying some of those qualities into the world and through their lives, to fructify in as-yet-unimaginable ways. And even if you can’t see many stars you can know at least that they are there, and that they are the celestial midwives, continually birthing our world into existence.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Astrocartography: The karmic impact of Place

That seven degree latitudinal band of significant stars we call the Zodiac is wrapping itself around our planet endlessly, silently influencing events on Earth and evoking a certain quality of internal experience. Gemini started rising on the eastern horizon about an hour ago, and (without knowing that) I began writing this.

Gemini is associated with communication of all kinds and specifically writing, being ruled by the planet Mercury. Rahu is currently exalted in this sign, making any communication through computer technology more potent. So here we are. This is how I am not separate from the spinning of the earth as it turns the sky, churning our karmas into fruition through Time.

Although astrology is known to be the study of the sky, one can only know this sky in relationship to the earth. On any given day many babies are born, but it is their specific location in relation to the time of day which pins a certain sign of the zodiac to their ascendant, determining how the rest of the chart (and thus the karma) falls.

One branch of astrology that is not native to India is astrocartography, which studies how different locations on the planet shift the natal horoscope and impact the karma of an individual. This can actually be used as a remedial measure, wherein certain places are prescribed to either alleviate difficult areas of life or to accentuate positive ones. Someone might move to a given location, for example, to support the work life, or to meet a partner, or to improve their health. Places, in this way, can be like poison or medicine, depending on how they shift the planets in an individual chart. And from personal experience I cannot say that moving to a poison place is altogether negative, and sometimes it can allow us to burn through karma and extract some deep spiritual lessons, but at the cost of some suffering.

When looking at relocation there are other elements to consider aside from the astrocartography. The environment itself—whether ocean, desert, big city or mountains—will activate certain signs in the chart, each of which have an associated environment. If, for example, someone unknowingly activates Taurus in their chart by moving to a farm and this happens to be the 8th house of disease in their chart, then after spending some time in that environment they may notice their health start to decline. And if this person is running what we call a “bad” dasha—meaning a planetary period which is somewhat negative in their chart and can cause their desires to be out of line with their best interest—then they will indeed suddenly want to make a move which may not ultimately be helpful. This is where astrology can be helpful in alleviating difficulty, particularly when there are multiple choices available.

Most people do not make the connection between their experience and the places in which they happen. I have become so sensitive to this, after many years of study and observation, that I can’t help but notice not only how different places feel but also who I meet in those places, what events fructify, and what themes come up. There are some places which seem to bring out our best selves, and others which cover us with a strange cloud of confusion, but always each place has the potential to introduce us to a different facet of ourselves that we might not have otherwise known. So I consider astrocartogarphy to be a way to answer the question: which part of myself do I want to get to know and where can I go to find it?

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

The Endless Rush of Curious Moments

The benefits of knowing something about astrology range from the very practical (i.e. what would be the best day for me to buy a car?) to the karmically mystical (where did my intense fear of water come from in a past life?). Somewhere in between, there is the synchronization of the rhythm of one’s life with the resonance of the sky on a daily basis.

Yesterday, for example, was a challenging day psychologically and emotionally for many people, do to the Moon (showing the collective mind) being joined two very harsh planets. I was experiencing some of this constriction myself and only had to glance at the chart of the moment to realize that this weight would last through the day, but naturally lift by the next day when the Moon would move into the (relatively) clear air of Capricorn. And sure enough, today brought with it an entirely different energy than what was in the air yesterday.

I think one of the most essential lessons that the study of the sky has been teaching me is how incredibly comforting the reality of change can be. It is very human to resist the transitions and upheaval that life brings, to unconsciously wish things to remain static so that we can hold onto what we love and what is comfortable and so spare ourselves the effort of continually acclimating to an eternally shifting environment which exposes us constantly to both devastating loss and unexpected gains. It keeps asking us to be awake, which is challenging when you’re already worn out from the ride.

But I think there is a way to be both awake and relaxed; to find nourishment from the newness that each moment brings even if what it brings might not be exactly what you wanted. The problem, and the root of the exhaustion that we often experience, might be that we often want something specific delivered to us on the platter of each moment. When that (inevitably) does not happen, there is constant resistant to the waves of moments that keep rushing in relentlessly (I can’t help but think in surf metaphors since I’ve been spending so much time at the beach!).

if the approach can shift even slightly, to turn and face the oncoming moment (the endless rush of Time) with a mind full or curiosity rather than craving, then everything that enters is some kind of gift. I’ve had to experiment with this quite a bit, as i’ve begun to be able to see what is coming astrologically and to know sometimes that it will not be easy. But I’ve begun to see the movement of Time as a form of touch. So even moments which are challenging, and losses which seem completely indigestible have a quality of touch which remind us that we are in contact with life.

The Universe itself may not abide by the same moral principles that have been developed by humanity, so what is experienced by us as aggressive on a personal level is, to the larger Mind just a force of Nature doing what it was made to do, abiding by a more fundamental sets of laws—the Laws of Nature on the ground, the laws of karma in the sky—than our constitution or our legal system. A weighted cloud must deliver its rain to the ground below, rivers must move toward lower land, the animal world must experience hunger and the concomitant uncontrollable desire to satiate it by whatever means necessary, the planets must deliver their karma through our lives. If this feels heavy, then understand that the other option would be to have no karma at all and thus no experience; to not exist at all.

The question of morality becomes complicated when Nature hits the human mind. But we are not as far removed from nature and its inborn instincts as we might imagine. That might actually be part of the problem. Were they entirely absent then we could live really reasonable, rational lives defined by moral codes and moderate appetites. But our bodies still live by instinct and so we experience the potency of animal hunger, desire and vitality but thwart many of these impulses and so complicate them. Enter neurosis. One can turn to Freud (making sure to take him with a grain of salt) for a longer explanation of the mechanics of this.

My concern with nature and consciousness has to do with getting in front of the neurosis and connecting to a rhythm which is entirely impersonal, and therefore a-moral (meaning without morals, neither “for” or “against”) and therefore before judgement. This doesn’t mean it doesn’t sometimes hurt, but it does mean it probably doesn’t get offended.

The clouds are just delivering rain, not because they’re angry but because they reached the required level of saturation, or hit the right air temperature or elevation which triggered their release. Similarly, the planets are just delivering their karma, not because you’re a good or a bad person but because your actions in a former life required that you were born at a specific moment when they were configured in a particular way so that you are given the fruits of your actions. This is just Nature’s form of play. Humans have taken the whole thing rather seriously, and at some point forgot how to smile and laugh about how strange and glorious the whole dance can be!

I began with the topic of change: It is easier to let go into this cosmic dance of impersonal movement if we realize that we will never be in the same situation forever. Time is always moving below our feet, and so before we decide to get upset about a situation we’d do well to remember 1. this is life’s way of making contact with you, 2. this situation is the natural outcome of previous actions and if we are entirely closed off to the moment we will not extract the teaching it contains (plus it is rude to turn your back on a moment) and 3. this too shall pass, and we might even miss something about it after it does.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Un-quenching the Fire

Whilst we all go about our day today, managing the many details of our lives, the planet Mars is making the heroic leap across one of three particularly tenuous gaps of the zodiac, called Gandanta points—those which connect fire and water signs.

Imagine jumping from one rocky cliff to another with a deep dark cleft between, and a thick mist obscuring the view so that you can’t get a good look at where it is you’ll be landing on the other side, should you survive that moment of flight. What happens to the mind when the body is momentarily suspended between the certainties of solid ground is what a planet (and thus a part of ourselves) experiences when crossing a Gandanta point in the sky. Ideally this is experienced a moment of grace, when we feel ourselves held by a larger presence. If we are thrown extremely off balance it can be a time of great anxiety and confusion. We have had Jupiter’s aspect supporting Mars during this time of instability, so it is likely that we’ve been able to experience this transit with a bit more grace than we might otherwise.

Luckily, Mars is taking his leap out of what has been a relatively uncomfortable situation since June 23rd, when he moved into debilitation in the sign of Cancer. Mars doesn’t like this sign and so is considered debilitated there because he is a ferocious warrior and a fire planet. The water and overall softness of the sign of Cancer (associated with nurturance, comfort and care) tends to put out his fire and agitate him into a state of either physical clumsiness (not knowing what to do with his very potent and powerful body as he tries to restrain it) or passive aggressive behavior (the result of not being able to fully express anger). This transit has not been beneficial for Agni, or the digestive fire, either, since Agni is ruled by Mars. His debilitation tends to put out the digestive fire.

Moving into the sign of Leo, Mars is back in his element. Leo is a fire sign ruled by the Sun, and Mars and the Sun get along pretty well. The Sun is considered to be the king of the planets, and Mars the general of the military, so these two have a pretty good working relationship (what they are out to accomplish is another story, and dependent on many other factors in the chart and in the sky).

That being said, wherever Leo is in your natal chart will be experiencing a strong dose of fiery (think aggressive, assertive, impulsive energy) in that area of life. If it falls in your 7th house of partnership then relationships may become heated. If it is your 10th house of career you may experience some gains in that area, since Mars achieves directional strength (digbala) in the 10th house where his energy can be channeled into the work world effectively.

While Mars is in the middle of this transit there is more potential for accidents and injuries, so take care today and the next few days to not take unnecessary risks, and to do the best you can to stay in your body, being aware of your surroundings and your movements. I can report from personal experience that the last two times Mars has crossed Gandanta points in the sky I have experienced an injury (one which required stitches), so the threat is real.

There could be a new upsurge of energy coming into your life as fire is taken out of the water that was diluting its strength. Fire, or Agni, is vital to energy levels and ability to focus and stick to tasks. So enjoy this subtle shift and use it wisely! You might experience less dispersal of energy. You might also consider working specifically on your digestive fire during this time since you’ll have cosmic support as Agni (Mars) just moved into the sign of Leo which, being the 5th house of the zodiac relates to digestion (each sign of the zodiac relates to a part of the body and its functions).

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

How to use a Claw

By far the biggest emphasis in the zodiac at this time is in the sign of Cancer: the fourth sign of twelve which has to do with nurturance, care, emotions, foundations and motherhood. Yesterday there were five (of nine)planets posited there. Today there are eight, as Mercury retrograded back to Gemini to take care of something he forgot.

Cancer is a sweet sign, symbolized by the apparently not-so-sweet creature the crab. But as with all of the signs and symbols of the zodiac, there needs to be some study of the the habits and homes of the representing symbols to understand something about the energy of the sign.

The most prominent feature of a crab is its claws, which serve many functions: protection, communication, digging burrows (another form of protection), attracting mates, and gathering food. I see these as the many different ways in which the energy of Cancer can enter our lives. With so many planets here right now it is an interesting time to observe our relationship with self-protection (whether through going to battle with the claws or digging burrows for hiding), desire for attention in partnership, and how we are using food (as nourishment or distraction).

The planets are showing karma wherever they are posited in the horoscope and in the sky in transit. Because the individual birth chart exists only in relationship to the larger living horoscope—called the Kala Purusha or Body of God—our individual karma will always be effected by and have some effect on the world around us. From an astrological perspective, this is the case because we are born at specific moments, which configure the birth chart in a certain way according to the larger Kala Purusha. Some people will be born at the knees of God (Capricorn), some at the feet (Pisces) and others at the heart (Cancer). This says something about their purpose on this earth and the nature of their personality and fructification of their karma as well as their impact on the larger world.

The nature of karma is that it must manifest, but the way in which is manifests can be a matter of pure reaction and habit pattern (karma at its most unconscious. which will take exactly the shape of the birth chart) or of pleasant improvisation, which is possible only when we are paying attention, and which opens up some space in the horoscope and in the life. So, the example of the crab claws and the many ways in which they can be used are different ways that energy of Cancer—which must manifest, with so many planets there right now—can be utilized.

This is an opportunity to see yourself digging a hole to hide in and decide instead that you want to use that energy to care for yourself in a different way. Or you might suddenly notice your need for attention from your partner and decide instead that you’re going to give yourself what you’re looking for from your partner. This is where things get interesting and true music can be made through the art of intelligent improvisation (definition: produce or make something from whatever is available; create and perform spontaneously or without preparation). This becomes especially interesting when others are wiling to improvise with you, creating a symphony of creative karmic expression. The opposite, of course, is incredibly uninteresting and is in play when we are all acting according to our habit patterns with no consciousness.

Cancer is concerned with care and emotional protection. if this falls in the 7th house of your horoscope (the place of partnership) then your partner will take on these qualities. If your ascendant is here then this will describe you. There can be a hard outer shell which develops over time for Cancerian people due to their innate sensitivity (soft inner core). Mars is debilitated in Cancer, where it is now transmitting, due to its inability to be soft and sensitive (Mars can be a callous fighter). In this watery, emotional sign he’s not sure what his purpose is or where to put his energy. You may feel this in your life as a confusion of the fire element (ruled by Mars) which has to do with energy and initiative, ability to complete tasks and follow through, assertiveness and anger. The digestive fire can also be dispersed causing stomach or intestinal issues. There may be an emotional root to these, as this is the sign of the heart.

The most important piece in all of this is that you remain aware of your emotional reality inside whatever chaos may be present in your life. We’re collectively trying to work something out in the heart, so to have compassion for both ourselves and others in the process is perhaps the most positive step one can take. The negative side of this would be to recoil into persistent self-protection and jealousy, excessive attachment and self-destructive “comforts.” The question of what genuine nourishment looks like comes up, as we are all aware that some of the ways in which we attempt to care for ourselves and others are not ultimately helpful.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

At the Edge of the Ocean

I find myself in Big Sur, on what seems like the edge of the earth. A fertile place to be, particularly in the middle an eclipse cycle! And a fertile place in general, being that particular ecotone where mountain ecology meets a gigantic ocean system, and the two must reconcile the presence of the other in some form or fashion. The elements of earth and water are friendly in the Vedic system of thought, so what is produced lends itself to a lot of life (contrast this to, say, water and fire which are unfriendly and whose outcome can be witnessed when volcanic runoff sizzles into the ocean). Green abounds—the color of the planet Mercury (ruling the earth element) and of life—and of course that ethereal oceanic blue which pushes one toward existential contemplation.

The sign in the Zodiac which is described by (or describes) the ocean is Pisces, symbolized by two fish. This is also the sign of so called “final liberation” or moksha, our exit from the earthly round of existence which has been the Indian ideal. Witnessing the power and potential contained in this enormous body of water called the Pacific Ocean, this historical association of oceans with liberation makes perfect sense, as that type of release from the rounds of rebirth requires complete surrender into the totality of experience; not one ounce of resistance to things as they are, including the sharpest pain and deepest fear.

Having stood at the shore again today, watching the waves gain strength as they speed towards land (and my legs), and having felt even the softest edge of the power of the pull into its body (and having lost my footing more than once) I begin to wonder into what type of psychology or spiritual preparation would be required to enter into that larger body with not one ounce of resistance, allowing oneself to be at the mercury of its intelligence and to be moving toward a horizon which does not reveal the nature of the yonder shore. We can only get ideas from the accounts of others who have gone that way before (such as the Rishis who composed the Vedas, or the saints and sages who have experienced spiritual awakenings). Daunting, to be sure. But a wonderful way to conceptualize, and play at the edge of, complete surrender to life and its many turbulent waves.

Going further: each individual’s relationship with this type of release and surrender will be described partly by where the sign of Pisces falls in their chart (if it is in the 12th house of natural surrender and sleep, for example, it may come quite naturally, but if it is in the 6th house of enemies and obstacles it may be incredibly difficult for them to let go) and planets they have placed there. So we each come in with certain karmic makeups which color the way we move through life in regards to our level of tension and resistance again events (inner and outer) which come our way. This is good information, since more and more it seems that what one experiences is less important than how one experiences it.

A look at the birth chart can be helpful in this regard, no only because it tells us something about how much an individual has tied themself up into a knot of inner conflict with the realities of life, but also because knowing that what is happening was written in the sky at the moment of birth reminds us of the futility of resistance. We are inside a story that is playing out through us, whose major troughs and crests and feeling tones came in with us. Our task is not to try to re-write the story (an impossible one) but to understand where we are in it and gracefully improvise inside the plot. The grace, of course, comes with surrendering to what is. Only then can one be tuned in enough to the subtleties of tone in their own life to know what note might add the right spark of beauty—the beauty that makes life worth living.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

The Forge and the Quench

As Jupiter continues to straddle the gap between Sagittarius and Scorpio (discussed in more detail in the journal entry titled “The Spiritual Knot”) we are all being worked in various ways, like a metal being forged into a new shape, but undergoing the intense shifts between the blacksmith’s Forge (fire) and the Quench (water) as we’re tempered into a material that might serve its purpose (Jupiter in Sagittarius being all about purpose, path and dharma) more effectively. Let yourself be worked! The metal experiences a tremendous amount of discomfort as its plucked from the fire only to be plunged into water and vice versa. The sizzle of steam is its scream, and maybe at this moment of celestial tumult you can sympathize.

The blacksmith’s workshop is an apt metaphor for this tenuous time because Jupiter will jump over this gap between fire and water several times before he finally moves forward into Sagittarius in November of this year. This gives us many months to learn the art of being forged. One of the most challenging aspects of this time period is surrender to the process due to the inherent violence involved in being thrown between two inimical elementsr. Remember that there is a purpose, though at times your mind will not be able to recognize it. This is the nature of the gap between fire and water signs, where the lunar zodiac does not provide a bridge between solar signs. The mind (shown by the moon) has no story to connect to. The psychological territory can feel unfamiliar and there can be a tremendous feeling of displacement. Just notice this internal tension and feel into this blank space as though it was a moonlit landscape—unfamiliar to our daylight vision. Something in our psyche knows how to navigate here. Allow that one to take the reigns.

Be very conscious of the story you are telling yourself in the coming months. Consider your internal story-line a type of sustenance. Are you being fed by GMO corn and soybeans or greens from your garden? A substantive story is different from the lies we might tell ourselves as a way to cope with a repulsive reality. Your internal narrative is the way you frame your experience, and it will often immediately paint the picture of events in the way its accustomed to. These are the habit patterns of the mind, and will show up in the chart as conjunctions or aspects to the Moon, or the placement of the Moon in a Nakshatra.

Given the upheaval in the skies and the forging of our internal material, this is an opportunity to change the shape of the story you’ve been creating for yourself. Perhaps it has a flaw, or perhaps it no longer fits and needs to be forged again in the fire for its edge to be sharpened into something that is capable of cutting.

Every transit is an opportunity, even (and I would argue: especially) the difficult ones. For further support and details as to how this transit effects you, consider an individual consultation.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

A Division of Light

It is interesting to me how a small variety of factors can create such diversity on this planet. The axial tilt of the earth is one of those factors—our earth’s unique position creating our seasons and the diversity of ecosystems on this planet. Just that little 23.4 degree does that! This is the same tilt that causes the solstices and equinoxes (today being the Spring Equinox).

This goes to show the importance of how we orient ourselves in life—how the diversity of our own flora and fauna, and our own seasons take shape around wherever we position our own axis—and also that perfection may not be as interesting as a bit of quirkiness. If our earth were perfectly upright would have no seasons, the earth’s regions would not be marked by such diverse habitats as jungle, desert, grasslands. It’s possible that that slight tweak in its tilt would alter the biology of the planet enough that it would not be inhabitable.

I wonder if the earth labors under this misalignment, or if it is aligned with some other brightness we cannot see, and if in aiming for perfection we may be misdirected. Perhaps perfection is the opposite of life, and if we were to actually achieve it we would disappear.

On the equinox it is not completely true that day and night are equal. They are close, but not exactly. There is actually only one moment of “equality” wherein the earth’s axis isn’t pointing toward or away from the Sun. At that same moment, the center of the sun aligns with the equator of the earth. The relationship between sun and earth is perfectly balanced—but only for an instant! We are neither “for” nor “against” the light which makes our life possible. We stand in perfect equilibrium, and only then are we granted (brief) access to the center of the Sun.

During this time the earth is halved by light and dark, creating as much tension as ever the edges—where both sides press with equal weight against one another. This is, in fact, what creates equilibrium: equal tension. it is not lack of tension or difficulty, it is an articulate communication between what appear to be opposing forces.

I consider metaphors a reality. I think that the odd angles of our lives are created as a result of a necessary incongruence in the cosmos, and that the more we resist those oddities the less we get to taste the center of the Sun. The nectar seems to be reserved for complete alignment with our imperfect angularity; finally relenting and going along for the strange ride until it brings us back to center—maybe twice a year—when we get to taste something of perfection, which results from alignment with something more powerful than us. Something like the Sun.

And it think that now is not the time to seek a peace that is made in lack of strife and challenge, but instead to strive for a balance that might—in moments—taste like peace, which requires touching and holding the unseen with the seen, the dark with the light, the aversive with the desirable. This is neither the time to turn away from the dark, nor run toward the light, but to pause and watched in awe as they meet one another in some strange dance of sun and shadow.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

The Spiritual Knot

In the system of Vedic Astrology, each sign of the zodiac is ruled by one of the four elements (the fifth element—ether—pervades every sign). Depending on where important planets are placed in your chart, you will have more or less of these elements (both physically and psychologically) in your life.

Aries: Fire/Taurus: Earth/Gemini: Air/Cancer: Water/Leo: Fire/Virgo: Earth/Libra: Air/Scorpio: Water/Sagittarius: Fire/Capricorn: Earth/Aquarius: Air/Pisces: Water

Where Fire meets Water is a juncture called “Gandanta” which translates roughly as a spiritual knot. These elements are considered inimical (fire meeting water can create an explosion, or steam that can burn) and therefore their meeting place is tenuous. Whenever a planet is situated at the last degree of a water sign or the first degree of a fire sign it is said to bring a great deal of difficulty into the individual’s life, specifically surrounding the indications of the planet that is there (Venus will bring troubled and unstable relationships, Moon can bring mental illness, Mercury can give problems with with money and communication) and the houses it rules in the chart. This placement is particularly significant for the planet ruling the rising sign and the Moon, as these strike closest to home for the native. This placement can bring a fundamental feeling of instability throughout the life.

We feel these spiritual knots collectively when the planets transit these points in the zodiac. Today, Jupiter entered the edge of Scorpio at 29 degrees, where he straddles that terra incognito between fire and water. The reason this territory is “unknown” is that the Lunar Mansions (called Nakshatras) which underlay the entire zodiac, 27 in number, bridge the gaps between signs of all the other elements. But when it comes to fire and water these Nakshatras, which have a huge impact on the mind and emotional makeup, also end, to restart in the next sign. So there is nothing to carry us across these Gandantas, particularly on the mental level. This dark place, where one is forced to dive forward into the unknown in some area of their life, is where trust, faith, and surrender take root.

We are here for 8 weeks, not quite knowing how to carry the depths, insights and transformations gathered over the last year or so of Jupiter in Scorpio into our path ahead—whether that be through teaching, a renovated spiritual practice that can hold more weight and substance, or a fight worthy of your efforts. Now is not necessarily a time to decide all that. This is the time to be confused, wonder into the possibilities, become comfortable in chaos and exercise that vastly underused muscle called THE IMAGINATION.

When the lights go out we must navigate not by the daylight senses—the vision that can tend to eclipse subtlety of perception—but by sensitivity to presences, textures, images in dreams, sensations in the body. This is the time to use your animal intelligence to push into the places we neglect when the way ahead is clear. Use active imagination to explore you unconscious, spend time with the sensations in your physical body which may have images and emotions associated with them, move toward the darkness and into the presences that reside there. If there is fear, dive into it with curiosity, exploring it like a new landscape.

These subtle senses will be necessary in some area of your life with this transit, the specific area will depend on the details of your chart. But Jupiter relates specifically to our intelligence and ability to make decisions, so consider approaching your decision-making process not from daylight consciousness (as it will be less available and you will tend to lean on the rational mind at this time, which is debilitated in Pisces) but from the intuition that is your own underworld, teeming with vitality and information if you are willing to pause long enough to meet it.

This meeting yourself where you are, on a deep physical, emotional and spiritual level is not only a tool for guidance, but is also the only way to unravel the spiritual knot we are all inside, in some area of our lives right now. It requires a constant adjustment to reality. Each time there is a relaxation into the reality of “now” (including any resistances there might be to what is happening at any given moment), a door opens up. Then you encounter another knot—another form of resistance to what’s going on. And you relax into it again. This is the untying of the spiritual knot, which can take so many forms. Any form of resistance is a tangle in the string of the knot. The untying, then, requires letting go.

When all is said and done, and Jupiter is on the other side of this hurdle, if you did not spend the entire 8 weeks resisting your life as it is, you will have gained a deep sensitivity of the senses that you can trust, a facility with the imaginative capacity, and an insight into the vast reservoir of information contained in the miraculous collection of muscles, bones and insecurities you call “me.”

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

The Close of the Vedic Year

While the New Year in the Western world begins on January 1st, the Vedic New year begins officially when the Sun enters Aries, which falls this year on the 14th of April.

The month or so preceding this shift into the coming year is traditionally considered a good time to embark on a cleanse of the physical, emotional and spiritual bodies. At this time we are carrying the weight of the entire year behind us, and in order to enter the next year fresh we can use this time to empty ourselves.

Many of us do this naturally, with spring cleanses and spring cleaning. There is generally a feeling of wanting to lighten up, unload and make space. Follow this feeling!

One of the best ways to support a system-wide detoxification and cleaning is to begin with the physical body. In Ayurveda—a sister science of Vedic Astrology and Yoga—spring is considered the most beneficial season to cleanse: because of its natural heavy quality (the snow is melting, the ground becomes saturated, the air can become thick with rain and moisture) and because at this time of year our ancestors would have been eating very sparingly, as the harvest was long gone and even what had been stored would have been all but consumed at this point of the year. Our bodies are still tuned to the rhythms of nature which our ancestors had no choice but to align with.

Everything in nature moves in cycles of rest and regeneration. We cannot expect our bodies to go full force endlessly. At this time of the year you may notice a sluggishness, tiredness and weight. Depending on your constitution you may experience this as either pleasant (if you tend to be of a lighter constitution) or unpleasant (if you are already heavy by nature). This weight is an echo of the experience the earth is having, being saturated with the snow melt, thick with the weight of a thawing winter. What is happening in your body mirrors nature, just as what is happening in your life mirrors the cosmos.

Earth is just beginning to poke its head out of the long slumber of winter, but just as you feel when you first wake up in the morning after a night of heavy sleep, She is slow to get going. And rightly so, as She is building her strength and fertility, which will eventually bear fruit. You have the same potential to bear fruit in the coming year, particularly if you give your body a break this spring by resting and realigning your digestive system.

In Ayurveda the Agni—or digestive fire—is the cornerstone of health. A good cleanse should seek to restore the digestive fire for the proper assimilation of nutrients which eventually turn into the various tissue layers (whose health can be seen based on the strength of the various planets in your horoscope). Extreme cleanses and fasts will often completely obliterate the Agni, making you weaker after the cleanse instead of stronger and deeply nourished. Ayurvedic cleanses generally put you on a bland diet of Kitchari, which rests your digestive system without putting your system into fight or flight, and gently rekindles your digestive fire.

I love Ayurveda because it teaches us that it is futile to attempt to go against the grain of nature. Disease is thought to be the result of a deviation from nature. It is a perfect correlate to astrology, which shows us that aligning with—rather than resisting—the cosmos is the key to the realization of one’s full potential, including physical health.

So as the sweet breezes of spring begin to flood your senses with new desires, impulses and ideas (which are actually the thoughts of Nature herself), consider aligning your personal will with that of nature, both through a simple Ayurvedic spring cleanse and a consultation to precede and plan for the year ahead.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Back to Roots: Amavasya and the Dark Moon

Today is the one day each month when the Moon is completely dark—the moment just before it begins growing into the cycle of the next lunar month. The dark moon—called Amavasya in Sanskrit— is often confused with the new moon, but the two carry vastly different energies, which are important to distinguish.

Amavasya begins when the waning moon is 12 degrees before the Sun, and ends when they conjoin. During that time it loses more and more of its brilliance until it is completely dark. This is not considered an auspicious time for beginning new ventures in the material world, as any undertaking requires the sustaining, extroverted power of the Moon.

A Dark Moon drives us inward. It is traditionally thought that the “life force” or Soma (another name for the Moon) is pulled into the interiors of things as the Moon wanes. Plants are said to take their energy into their roots, and the same could be said for humans. This is an extremely auspicious time for sinking your energy into your own root system, whether that be family and ancestors or your body and the earth. It is time spent dwelling here which restores us for the month ahead.

Being the last day of the month it is also associated with endings. All the energy accumulated over the course of the last month is given the opportunity to be cleared on this day. If you can, take time today to consciously disentangle yourself—at least emotionally—from the events of the past month, so that you don’t have to carry that weight into the next one. You could even develop a monthly ritual around cleansing yourself on Amavasya with time in Nature, a dip in the hot springs, or a meditation practice focused on release. (Note: consult a panchanga calendar to see which day Amavasya falls on each month)

The New Moon, on the other hand, can be a good time to start new ventures and projects, open businesses, etc—although the moon is still somewhat tender in its early waxing phases, so waiting until it a few days into the new lunar cycle is usually best for commencing things which will have staying power. Making the mistake of beginning a new project one day too soon (on Amavasya instead of the New Moon) will generally spell destruction for that project, as you’ve initiated something with an energy of destruction and endings instead of fruitful beginnings.

In Vedic Astrology the idea is that the seed of everything is planted in its first moment: the moment you meet someone and the moment of marriage, the day you open a business or sign a contract, the day your child enters the world, and of course—the moment you were born. Your horoscope is the seed of you, which unfurls over the course of your lifetime. The problems arise when we resist the unfolding and distort our own nature. Basic awareness and simple practices (for example: tracking moon cycles) can begin to help us align with, rather than resist, nature.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Mercury and the Alchemy of Dissolution

There’s always some form of alchemy taking place in the sky: the planets churning our reality into form through the elements they rule over.

Jupiter: Ether

Saturn: Air

Mars: Fire

Venus: Water

Mercury: Earth

As these five elemental planets move through the zodiac they bring the karma they carry (through their associated element) to different areas of life. A sadness in the heart could be Saturn bringing air (and its concomitant separation) into your 4th house, which rules over the heart and emotions. A sudden desire to improve your diet and finances could be triggered by Jupiter bringing a spaciousness (through the element ether) into that area of life, so that everything can take its proper place.

It can be helpful to see our own desires as connected to these larger forces which are constantly shifting beneath our feet, and often below our awareness.

Mercury—the planet governing over the element of earth (stability, fixity, form and weight) is currently debilitated in Pisces, meaning that its qualities and somehow less accessible to us. This is because Mercury, being the ruler of Virgo, likes organization, rules and boundaries. It is the garden of the zodiac, where nature meets culture and something grows. But this growth requires careful tending, a certain amount of organization and rule-following. In Pisces, this meticulous Mercury is thrown into the ocean. All rules dissolve and are consumed by the maw of the mother waters.

In alchemy the name for this process is the solutio. It is purification by water, requiring surrender to forces larger than oneself, letting go of structure, coming apart. it is a bit like the process of making clay, which will eventually be made into a form which can hold something. If you’ve ever witnessed the way that clay is made from the beginning, you know that the earth must first be completely saturated. It be agitated in a pool of water for some days, then is scooped out and sifted through to remove any debris. This is, undoubtedly, not the most comfortable process for the earth itself, which dissolves into the water.

The solutio is the transformation of matter. Of what matters. And its hallmark is a feeling of disorientation. it is really a diffusion of energy for the purposes of reorganization—like the clay pot that might come out of the chaos of dissolution. This disorientation could be experienced right now in anything related to Mercury’s significations and also his house placement in your natal chart. This could mean that finances become overwhelming, communication is suddenly difficult (you can’t quite find the right words) or you suddenly feel like a child. But one very important signification of Mercury is the rational mind. Mercury loves to think in black and white, because he wants to keep things clean and separated. But Pisces threatens to dissolve that false rational structure, sinking him into the buoyant and terrifying reality of gray.

We may all get a taste of this right now. Mercury is in Pisces (with a brief retrograde into Aquarius) until May 2. Given that the planets work on a primarily subconscious level—carrying karma that we generally see only after it’s been put into action—it makes much more sense to align yourself with the desire of the planet than to resist. Resistance, in this case, would look like desperately clinging to the thought patterns which feel somehow safe but are ignoring some oceanic aspect of reality (the gray space between your black and white assumptions). Aligning with this aspect of the energy in the sky—the alchemy of the cosmos—would look like spending some time evaluating your own thoughts in various areas of life, attempting to see them objectively and considering what pattern they might keep you trapped in. Where are your blind spots? What fertility might lie in the unconsidered spaces between the ‘either-or’ which we are all so conditioned to operate inside of?

There might be an entire ocean of possibility foaming beneath the mental structure you’ve created.

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Maggie Hippman Maggie Hippman

Making Medicine

On March 7th, the two nodes—often called shadow planets—will move signs, after having been in their current position since August of 2017. These are particularly important planets to consider in transit because of the karma they carry and their impact on the mind.

Rahu and Ketu are the head and tail, respectively, of the cosmic serpent. They represent extremes of the mind: Rahu being incredibly indulgent and even obsessive about his addictions, and Ketu being detached and even disconnected. Wherever they are placed in our charts we tend to go to extremes, often engaging in behavior that in the end gives no real satisfaction. This is because although Rahu and Ketu are the head and the tail of the same body, their body is cut in two. So the head eats compulsively but the body never gets to experience satiation from the food, whether that food is physical food or other forms of sense stimulation. For this reason, the places occupied in the natal horoscope and in transit by these shadow planets becomes an important axis to consider, particularly when addressing the psychology of the individual.

Any serious discussion of the nodes requires an understanding of their mythological context. In the story of the churning of the Cosmic Ocean, Rahu and Ketu take the form of Vasuki—a gigantic snake, who is wrapped around Mount Meru while the Devas hold his head and the Asuras (Demons) hold his tail, pulling him back and forth on the spindle of the mountain as the waters of the ocean become agitated. Many contents rise to the surface in this churning, one of which is a poison that threatens to destroy the entire world. Shiva is called to save everyone, and holds the poison in his throat so that the churning can continue. Eventually the desired Nectar of Immortality rises to the surface. To make a long story short: Rahu and Ketu get involved in some thievery and steal the Nectar which was not intended for them, and the Sun and Moon intervene to split them in half.

The Sun—signifying the soul, and the Moon—showing the mind being involved in the separation of the head and the tail (or body) show us that the luminaries are not on good terms with these shadow planets. When we look at the astronomy of it, we see that the nodes are the points in space which cause the eclipses that steal the light from the Sun and Moon

So, we see that Rahu and Ketu show a polarity, but one that is necessary if the Medicine (Nectar of Immortality) is to be extracted. But it is essential that they are consciously connected. On a psychological level this means bridging the gap between conscious and unconscious contents of the mind, between body and mind, and between any form of black and white thinking. And often in the process some form of poison emerges, which is where most people give up the game. But this is a sign that the churning is working—you don’t feel good, you see some very unpleasant aspect of yourself and want to turn a blind eye, your relationship is in upheaval—but you can’t stop there. Pray to Shiva and continue the work. Eventually some sweet nectar rises to the surface (of insight, of relief to your nervous system, of psychical or psychological healing) and you know that you have touched Rahu with Ketu. Some essential connection has been made.

Over this past couple of years Rahu has been in Cancer, collectively disturbing the prana (Cancer ruled by Moon shows us the general state of prana, and Rahu disturbs), while Ketu has been causing some confusion regarding what it is we want to be working for, and perhaps some release and re-evaluation in that area. Neither node is very strong in the positions they’ve occupied, being in rather unfriendly signs. This means, generally speaking, that they create more friction.

After March 7th they will occupy their places of exaltation, meaning that their energy is fully supported. The question is whether we want the energy of the shadow to be fully supported. And like all things nodal, it is hard to tell which way it’s going to go because they are fundamentally averse to the middle ground. They polarize quickly. So decide early on how you want to use their energy. Rahu will either be an addict or a great communicator in gemini, able to use his manipulation for positive purposes. Ketu in Sagittarius will either steer you off course through numbness and disconnection in your spiritual life, or provide tremendous insight into the same. Both planets are full of potential blindspots and pitfalls. An individual consultation is required to understand the full details of how this transit will affect you.

Pay attention to any internal shift you feel in the next week or so. The impact of the transit might already be apparent. Meditation and equanimity of the mind are the best remedy for any nodal issue.

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