I could write a catchy rap about all the different types of astrology I’ve read:
Chinese astrology, you are so cool.
I found out my element, I’m a fiery fool.
Western astrology, I know my sun.
But how about my seventh House?
I want some fun.
Mayan Astrology, you struck me deep.
The first time I read you,
I could only weep.
Egyptian, Celtic, birthday tree too.
Numerology, north nodes, mundane cards rule.
Vedic, auras, I even got “cubed,”
Biorhythms, I Ching, will I ever be through?
Nonetheless, on the road to self-actualization, I’ve done a lot of soul searching within these systems, which I realized later was counter-intuitive.
Does the road of self-actualization have anything to do with systems?
The last line of my Grammy-worthy rap rings true: “will I ever be through?” How many charts and signs and astrological systems do I have to read before I feel like I have read myself into a real understanding?
The human brain is an interesting computer.
It’s something that thrives on rationalization, charts and figures, and its cavernous depths will create or destroy whatever idea it wants to get its neurons on. “Quitting astrology” seems to simply be giving up an incredibly impact heavy, time-consuming, interactive and sometimes-addictive form of consolation for the human brain.
Take it from me; there is always something else to read on the subject.
It seems that not even a satiated mind will let go of its favorite systems. I still find myself calculating a life-path number in my head, or a Chinese sign and element, if I’m lucky enough to get someone’s exact birth date. And, if you tell me someone’s birthday, I will never forget it. Scary, huh?
But when I was still really obsessed, no matter how mythopoeic, vague, or just plain bad a reading was, I was still an insatiable believer.
Which is why it brought me to the point I knew it had to: it was time to quit astrology.
What did I really know after I fed my mind all the readings? Had I really learned more about humanity and my place in it? Before I knew it, my database of information had become a trap of peripheral and slightly hallucinogenic ideas about what I thought I knew about people.
Astrology was a crutch.
It was a way for me to cope with the fear and anxiety over connection and it was a way to help me rationalize things instead of judging myself when I felt less than perfect.
I don’t think I’m saying that astrology is necessarily as bad or harmful as drugs, or real issues. But, I am saying that quitting astrology and transcending its teachings were necessary for me to regain genuine connection with people, and with myself.
I didn’t want to look up a compatibility chart and read my two Synastry books before I let someone into my life anymore.
“Do they have possible drug issues? Is she trustworthy? Are we going to have a difficult time communicating? Is he attracted to me?” or worse “Are they going to kick it off better than we did because her sun is in his fourth house, and she’s a horse and he’s a dog?”
Plus, the thrill of genuine contact and the unknown became much too thrilling of an idea: “No. I do not know this person (or how they think and feel) because I know what time, where, and what day they were born—but, if I let my guard down, I will know them.”
The truths I found in life couldn’t be contained by a system.
Perhaps climbing through a system does teach us and eventually gets us to where we are going. Maybe I’ve taken that to heart in order to help me demystify some of my queries. We are complex, enigmatic creatures, who experience and see things in each other that are usually very difficult (and sometimes scary or painful) to describe, and we do reach to our systems of belief to help us on that road.
The most important thing to remember is that we can be whoever we want to be and sometimes we are even so much more than that.
In the end, astrology was not my road to self-actualization and genuine connection, but she was a fun mistress for a little while; entertaining, dependable, versatile and lovably bipolar.
The real road to self-actualization was self-acceptance and love, which began with me, and then became a goal with those I met and loved, old and new.
There is nothing more truth finding than an open heart. And letting it be my guide has taught me more than any book, chart, or astrological system ever did.