Astrology’s ability to challenge ideas of good and bad fascinates me. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s fun to share a meme slighting the zodiac sign of a toxic ex. Astrology can be helpful in many ways, but please, don’t write off an entire zodiac sign because of a single person.
The beauty of astrology as a tool is that it’s non- hierarchical. Your birth chart is in the shape of a circle, not a pyramid. That disrupts hierarchical thinking, and recognises the cyclical nature of life.
My midheaven (the highest point) might be your IC (the lowest) and no practices that I’ve encountered claim that one sign is better to be the midheaven than any other.
Understanding your ‘big three’ of sun, moon and rising signs is a way for you to understand your specific chart, but within the practice of astrology no one zodiac sign is considered any better or worse than any other sign. They are all equally valuable ways of showing up to life. How I interpret this is that there’s no ‘right’ way to live life. There are many styles. Of course, that doesn’t mean we excuse harmful behaviour, but beyond that – to borrow a phrase from the world of sex positivity – the aim is to not yuck another person’s yum.
All the zodiac signs have their pluses and minuses. And we all have all the signs in our charts, even if we don’t have a planet in every sign.
You don’t need astrology to recognise that sometimes it’s the parts of us that we least like that we find most irritating or agitating in others.
One of the elements of reading a birth chart that I’m becoming increasingly aware of is incorporating the knowledge I have of my own into the reading. Not necessarily to make the reading about me, but to be aware of where my strengths and challenges lie and how that might show up in how I read someone else’s. It’s an astrological way of being aware of blind spots and biases.
But of course, some signs can be judged more harshly than others – especially online. To be clear, talking about zodiac signs individually tends to deny the complexity of the birth chart. At the end of the day, no sign is all bad or all good.
When I struggle with someone and I happen to know their birth chart, I find it very helpful to look at where it is showing up in mine (a practice called synastry). If my sun is opposite theirs, then it makes sense that there’s some tension. That doesn’t mean they’re inherently bad – often it means that they simply challenge my way of expressing , which can be helpful.
The practice of astrology, when done thoughtfully, has this capacity to witness difference without reducing things down to black and white. Your birth chart is like your fingerprint: while there may be some similar prints, none will be completely identical.
An example:
My sister and I have quite opposite charts. I have an Aquarius sun, she has a Leo sun; I’m an air rising sign which is the opposite to her fire rising sign. The sun in Aquarius wants to diffuse its light. It wants everyone to get lit up. The sun in Leo wants to stand in the spotlight and shine. These are opposite impulses. Plus the sun rules Leo, whereas it’s in detriment in Aquarius.
I used to view my sister’s Leo qualities as selfish qualities – my Aquarian judgement of her, which said a lot more about me than her. Selfish is a funny word, because it’s seen as negative and yet aren’t we all just trying to be more like ourselves? Aren’t we all trying to centre into who we truly are?
I’m fascinated by the work of Britten LaRue regarding the ‘unshaming’ of the zodiac signs. Through examining my judgement of my sister’s natural ability to shine, I’ve been unpacking my own shame regarding my Leo qualities. I have a planet in Leo, but even if I didn’t, Leo is in a house in my chart, and deserves to be expressed in that area in my life without my shaming of it.
On Leo, LaRue says, “to unshame Leo is to unshame taking up space and your right to be a person who feels proud.” Through her Leo nature, my sister continues to teach me how to stand proudly in the spotlight. Astrology can serve us in so many different ways, but as with any form of ‘typing’ or categorising, it can be used to shame us as well.
We all have the 12 zodiac signs in our charts, so depending on the house it’s in, we all show up as all 12 signs in these different areas of our lives. Leo is a heart-centred sign; my sister shines from her heart. If I shine at all, it’s from my big picture thinking. There is more than enough room for both of these types of shining.
There will always be folks who use astrology as a way to exclude or dismiss, and arguably we all crave simplicity and magic bullets in these overstimulating, overwhelming times. Social media is a poor excuse for connection, and we are navigating wildly divisive waters politically, personally, globally and locally. But astrology, when used from a place of compassion, has the capacity to bring us a little closer to each other, while still recognising our differences. That is its beauty, and my hope for it.
This article was first published by Ensemble Magazine on the 15th August 2024