Embodied Astrology
When we anticipate a transit from a malefic, a planet with a gnarly reputation, or to a house that suggests vulnerability, many of us get nervous or worried about what might happen to us, or to those we care about rather than how we’ll appreciate or enjoy experiences over the horizon.
As an astrologer, I struggled with how to navigate this both personally and with clients, for years. My takeaway was that
I’m an inherently grumpy girl with a serious mindset and therefore my style is for a select few
Astrology probably isn’t for people that feel too anxious or worried about all the what ifs that could happen
My delineations aren’t particularly scary or doomy, in my opinion (nor have my various previous editors in the media industry thought so), but the way that interpretations of dynamic transits and planetary configurations are received by many people seems to arouse a tighter, less relaxed breathing pattern. More often than not, even when clients are able to sit for the not-so-exciting parts of their session (like the speculations that suggest hurdles, slow downs, or winding paths up ahead), there’s a sigh or a sense of disappointment— a palpable hint of cortisol.
I’ve realized that it has not only to do with what I’ve said —because I’ve learned how to articulate and distill more of a spectrum of meaning from the symbols of a chart (variations of the favorable and less favorable significations it could have— and often what favorable outcomes are likely to come from the more difficult topics or events in question).
For the last five years (particularly thanks to my experience as a horoscope writer) it has been a priority that I offer clients perspective on their situations and questions that doesn’t leave them with a simple “good luck!” or “Just stay positive” when interpreting their challenging looking transits. I don’t take kindly to spiritual bypassing and I try my hardest to always provide a context of yin/yang, active/passive, sunny/shady side of the hill to the possibilities and probabilities of what is yet to unfold. There’s something special about a nuanced astrology consultation and conversation between client and astrologer that offers support and validation when one feels confused and in need of being seen or guided.
I find meaning within the meaning, and while sometimes that isn’t helpful to certain situations—like when a person doesn’t want to look for or discuss what the meaning of something is… it isn’t always appropriate and it’s nice to see when people have the wisdom to know they’re not in need of attached meaning to an event—it is just what people look for in an astrologer.
What’s changed in the last year or two, however, is my relationship to and awareness of personal, collective, and individual instances of trauma.
That’s a big word.
It’s especially loaded in the ethos we’re exposed to day in and day out—on social media, in the news, and in real time as we witness a tidal wave of shifts occurring, sociologically, economically, in and outside of our bodies throughout a worldwide pandemic and historic calls to action against racial and transgendered injustices.
Becoming more engaged in the practice of somatic experiencing, as a student of somatic experiencing and as a client receiving somatics-based IFS therapy, has made it so much more clear to me how significant it is that people are able and willing to be present with their bodily experience if they are to consult with an astrologer or someone working with divination tools.
From years of witnessing astrologers—and people that become over dependent on having readings (especially electional consults that offer selected auspicious dates for specific events within a given timeframe)—getting worked up or stressed out over potentially grittier transits from Mars, Saturn, the outer planets, and the nodes, I’ve understood a common thread or pattern.
It’s our ability to pathologize and brace for the worst because we’re exceptionally skilled at looking for threats.
It speaks volumes to me as a SE practitioner in training because it suggests that a large number of people (and I’m deliberately trying to understate that) are walking around with chronic stress and/or trauma that predisposes them to imagining a narrow set of outcomes and manifestations when they hear about a transit that calls for more effort, awareness, patience, or discernment.
There’s often a fine line to walk between validation and stealing an opportunity for a client to really reflect on their innate talents, courage, wisdom, strength, and intuition by coddling or amplifying their anxiety about a situation. Being sensitive enough to allow someone to feel heard and for them to be able to come to their own conclusions without projecting your own stuff calls for pacing, boundaries, kindness to be honest, and knowing when trauma might be influencing the communication between client and astrologer. The latter is what I’ve come to notice can easily go undetected and yet undermine much of the benefit that an astrology consultation (or study of astrology) would otherwise provide.
There’s typically an assumption, even if unspoken or unexpressed during the session, that these periods of time that call for more compassion and gentleness— times when we’re called to cultivate wisdom and fortitude, for instance—are inherently experiences that are not open to enjoyment. That’s simply not true and a very limited view on the idea of appreciation and enjoyment. From a Chinese medicine perspective, we should be able to enjoy all the emotions to an extent because this makes us whole, healthy human beings. To be over inspired, excited, or happy can disorganize or slow the Qi too much just like too much crying could scatter it and too much anger to stagnate.
It’s one of the reasons why I’m intentional about the words I choose. Words have limitations, but they certainly matter and carry a lot of weight.
Before any given session I consider:
1) The message I mean to convey
2) What I’ll actually say
3) What the client may (or may not) hear
They might sound like trivial details, but these subtle nuances are what determines the tone and the takeaway of the session. This is also where we can see variations of breathing patterns and nervous system responses (fight, flight, freeze, fawn, or collapse) at play when someone feels triggered by a topic or hasn’t yet processed an experience that finds its way into the discussion directly or indirectly. This is just one type of environment in which somatic experiencing—a body-based psychotherapy that encourages renegotiation of nervous system responses, recalibrating and teaching self-regulation with normal and healthy pendulation between feeling activated and down regulating, and healing from chronic stress and trauma— could prove to be most helpful.
If a client is already in touch with and feels secure in their body and nervous system responses, then these types of discussions have the potential to reach more profound layers of experience in the moment.
It’s not necessary for clients to come to a session with this privilege; it is very much a privilege even though it is also what we’d call “normal” in Chinese medicine... normal is not standard and outside normal doesn’t make someone invalid, it’s simply normal for humans to know their body, though our society has drifted from teaching about emotional awareness, expression, and embodiment, and our vocabulary has changed quite a bit as well. That said, it is very helpful for clients when they’re able to be oriented to their bodily sensations and nervous system responses during personal discussions about their astrology which is full of all kinds of insights during and after a meeting. The meaning that might get attached to certain delineations, by a client or by an astrologer speculating about their own future, is the very thing that could offer a goldmine of reflection or a further feeding of old ghosts compounded by unclosed trauma loops.
As a green student in somatic experiencing, I’m finding inspiration to practice everywhere and with the encouragement of my instructors, which have nudged us to start practicing what we’ve learned from the inception of our 3 year program, I’m inclined to apply these skills to expand clients’ experiences in astrology sessions and those receiving care from Chinese medicine. Anxiety and trauma shouldn’t be a killjoy to your relationship with astrology, but I’m seeing it happen to astrologers who find themselves having no other solution than to step away from the practice altogether. How must clients feel if this happens to seasoned astrologers?! This isn’t a fault of astrology, and while some of it might have to do with how interpretations are made, it’s also about the unspoken communication happening within and between our bodies. Astrology is more than an abstract art, it’s about living in tune with seasons and cycles and to do that we’re invited to be present, grounded, and truly in our bodies.
To move this thought forward, I’ll be including complimentary mini-somatic experiencing sessions within clients’ astrology consultations throughout the next quarter (at least), to those who wish to participate.
If you’d like to sit with me for a mini session during your consultation, please let me know in the section of the intake form that asks for topics you’d like to discuss!
Warmly,
Ashley