I had been explaining to my kids a little about Saturn transits before this happened. This was prompted by a series of problems that I have been encountering in the last week, the worst of which occurred on my birthday on Friday. Saturn was almost exactly on my Sun, along with the New Moon (and the opposition from Uranus). That one I am not even going to touch, but suffice it to say, it was a very humbling (”character building”) experience. Actually, I was using a simple example in my conversation about Saturn transits, in an effort to point out that little things that go wrong might be thought of as learning experiences. One of my brake lights hadn’t been working for at least a month, and I kept meaning to get a new bulb, but never got around to it, probably because I had never changed one before. On Monday, I was rear-ended, and discovered in the process that the other brake light had also burnt. So, I finally got my new bulbs and put them in, discovering that it really was a very simple thing to do, and if I had done it earlier I probably wouldn’t have been rear-ended. I was using this as a little example–the things that go wrong under a Saturn transit are often things that could have been prevented if they had been managed properly in the first place. Mercury retrograde doesn’t help either.

One of my daughters had brought up a memory some years ago when I was putting gas in my car on a sunny spring day, and the roof above me suddenly began to leak melted snow only on me, and directly on me, as I was pumping gas. This wasn’t a little leak, either. It was an intense shower. That was something that I couldn’t prevent, and it was just so random that it was hilarious, but it was one of many little things in a series of events at the time that made me feel like things just weren’t going my way (and Saturn was square my Sun at the time).

Under heavy Saturn transits, you can almost feel singled out, especially when seemingly random or weird unfortunate things happen to you, one after another. I remember during the last square of Saturn to my Sun (and Moon), my car’s battery kept dying on me in the winter. I was thinking it was because of the extremely cold winter we had been having, although I never had problems with starting my car in previous winters. I was on my way to a job interview (and this was only because I had been working on contract for a company who were delaying payments to contract workers for months, and I decided I would look for a short-term job in the meantime), when my car died, right at a busy intersection. It was the coldest day of the winter, and we can get some real doozies when it comes to cold winter days here in Montreal. I didn’t have a cel at the time, and discovered I had forgotten to put my wallet back into my purse, so didn’t think I had money. The corner store wouldn’t let me use their phone, directing me to a pay phone instead, and I stood on the corner of the street crying with my car dead in the intersection, and not one person stopped to help me. I did find a quarter after rummaging through my car (getting honked like crazy), and called the police, which was all I could think of at the time. They never arrived. Finally I walked in the blistering cold to the nearest gas station (which wasn’t very near).

I eventually found out that my car’s battery was slowly being drained by the bulb in my trunk. My trunk latch had broken and I hadn’t fixed it. This was after my car didn’t start a couple weeks after the battery and alternator had been changed, and it just didn’t make sense.

While I usually find strangers helpful, absolutely nobody was helping me out this time. This makes me think that it had something to do with my attitude. I had been feeling rather down on my luck and somewhat helpless before this happened, and instead of actively flagging people down, I was just standing there crying. The extreme cold may have had something to do with why nobody stopped to help, mind you.

This brings me to what really defines Saturn transits, and that is attitude. In my experience, during Jupiter transits, little problems that occur are barely noticed, but they’re still occurring. We’re pretty much taking things in stride because of a buoyant mood, or a feeling that we can “take on” pretty much anything. During Saturn transits, I do find that there are more mechanical breakdowns than usual in my life, but I feel that I dwell on, or worry about, things that go wrong.

During Saturn transits, we tend to feel problems more acutely. Life seems to slow down and things don’t seem to be moving fast enough for us. Progress is slow. The beginning of a Saturn transit (and they often, but not always, last for many months) is usually more difficult, because it’s a time of adaptation. We feel our age, notice flaws, dwell on our shortcomings, are more sensitive to criticism and lack of support, and worry about our future. Working on these things is really the answer to our problems, and we can even find some joy in doing so.

Those of us with personal planets in, or concentrated in, the last decanate (20 to 30 degrees) of Virgo, Pisces, Gemini, and Sagittarius have been and will be experiencing a hard Saturn transit now and into 2010. We also have hard Uranus transits happening. We’ve gone through hard Pluto transits recently as well, and I have to say it–it’s been challenging. It’s hard for many of us to catch our breath. For myself, Pluto has been in hard aspect to my Sun, Moon, (Uranus, Pluto, and Chiron), Midheaven, and Ascendant, and there really hasn’t been a “break”. It’s been years now. Mind you, for the squares of Pluto to my Sun and Moon, I also had Pluto trine my Venus and Jupiter, and I think that was helpful. Looking forward, I don’t see much of anything major in the form of supportive, harmonious transits. I see lots of oppositions, squares, and quincunxes. It’s an onslaught in a sense–certainly not all “bad” but trying.

I do know quite a few people with concentrations of planets in the later degrees of the mutable signs who are in a real state of flux, and I would love to hear your experiences!

My middle child, a 15 year old girl, is a Pisces with Moon in Aries. Her Aries Moon is conjunct Venus (also in Aries), and both planets conjunct my Saturn. I have to be aware of my Saturnian role with her. I look at it in this manner: One of my roles in her life is to teach her, in so many ways, to temper the more difficult expressions of her Moon-Venus in Aries, but I have to be careful not to stomp upon her enthusiasm in the process.

Every now and again she has “emotional emergencies” as I like to think of them as. When something bothers her, or she wants something, her first instinct is to freak out. She has to solve the problem right now. She has to get the thing that she wants ASAP. If she can’t find something, the whole household has to be involved in order to track it down, and she doesn’t always treat everyone in a grateful manner as she enlists (demands) our help in the search!

As a baby and young child, people often commented on how easy she was, describing her as gentle, patient, feminine, and quiet. I still get that kind of feedback from teachers and parents of her friends. She is a quiet person (although she speaks rather loudly when she does speak), and she’s not aggressive at all in her interactions out and about. At home, she is a leader in the household. While she needs her space and keeps to herself a fair amount, when she’s in the mood for fun, she is truly the “life of the party” in the family room. She’s hilarious and fun, outspoken and direct, and always taking the lead. She animates us, gets us the best seats for concerts (she’s totally on top of who’s coming when, pre-sales, and any other news), and is quick to do new things without instruction. She gets annoyed easily, but gets over it just as quickly. In a very general sense, I can certainly say that she is a Pisces to the rest of the world, and an Aries at home. Obviously she brings both her Sun and Moon to the table wherever she is, but one dominates in different situations. And, this is not unique to her, of course. We all express our Moon signs more when we’re comfortable, with family or others very close to us.

With her Moon-Venus in Aries on my Saturn in Aries, I have great respect for her Aries qualities that come so naturally to her. What I have to be careful of is that I let her know this, because in my Saturnian role, I might get too caught up in tempering the more negative expression of the sign–of “teaching” her or correcting her–and forget to (or even feel uncomfortable doing so) praise her for her spunk.

While Saturn conjunctions in synastry are not as challenging as squares and oppositions, they’re not as easy as sextiles and trines either. With the conjunction, the Saturn person can always seem to be the “heavy”–the one who rains on the personal planet’s parade. If we as parents are always playing the heavy role, the child is likely to be frustrated, to rebel, and to not listen to our “lessons”. With the Saturn contacts, we should be especially mindful of this.

Over the years, I have come to discover that I had often responded to my daughter’s emotional emergencies with too much reasonableness or even a holier than thou attitude. I eventually realized that this only frustrated her more. An Aries Moon person does not want to listen to reason when she/he is in a tizzy!

Where Saturn is positioned in our chart–by sign, house, and aspect–often shows qualities that don’t come naturally to us. We might secretly admire these qualities but have a hard time expressing them spontaneously, and this feeling can sometimes express itself in jealousy.

As a teenager, my Scorpio mother always seemed to me to reduce any bad situation to a situation of jealousy. I thought she went overboard with these theories back then, but grew to agree with her. She basically said that any time someone treats you poorly for no particular reason, or feels the need to nitpick and criticize you often, they’re jealous of you. They’re feeling some kind of lack in themselves. Difficult Saturn contacts in synastry very often point to jealous behaviors on the part of the Saturn person, and sometimes the not-so-difficult Saturn contacts have shades of this. The Saturn person feels a lack in him/herself, sees it expressed so easily in the personal planet person, and reactions can be critical and sometimes downright nasty.

Not many parents want to believe they can be jealous of a child’s behavior, and might instead think of their criticisms as constructive. A lot of our teachings and criticisms do stem from love, but some don’t, and that’s something to consider, especially when Saturn is strongly contacting a child’s personal planets.

If you’ve been on the receiving end of a poorly handled Saturn in synastry interaction, or a jealous person whose Saturn was in hard aspect to one of your personal planets (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, or Mars), you’ll know how depressing and demotivating it can be. With my Mars in Sagittarius, I love to laugh and when I do it’s hearty and sometimes a bit out of control. A person whose Saturn squared my Mars seemed to think that it was self-indulgent, and I will tell you, there is nothing more sobering than to begin to enjoy a good laugh and to be faced with a person who looks at you like you’re absolutely crazy for doing so. He even told me that “some people’s laughs are addictive…yours isn’t”.

When my daughter was born, I had a conversation with my sister, who has the same Moon-Venus conjunction in Aries (and they both have Leo rising). I told my sister that my daughter’s chart was in some distinct ways similar to hers. My sister is very straightforward and immediately replied with, “You’re going to drive her crazy when she’s a teenager.” When asked a big WHY?, she laughed and told me, “You’re just too reasonable…you’re going to tell her to calm down at all the wrong moments…and your slow responses, poor kid”.  Yep, she was right–that’s exactly what happened when my daughter hit puberty, and it took a bit of time to figure out that even though it’s my Saturn on her Moon-Venus, I’m not the only “teacher” in the equation. She has a lot to teach me about my own fears and lacks (or perceptions of lack). I have to say that it’s easier to learn from your own child than a sibling or anyone else for that matter, I guess because there is more tolerance there, and less of an inclination to compete. My other daughter, like me, has Saturn in Aries conjunct her sister’s Moon-Venus, and the interplays between the two girls are not quite as polished! My Aries Moon daughter often tells my Aries Saturn daughter things like, “Get over yourself!”, “just do it”, and “what’s the big deal”, while my Aries Saturn daughter asks her sister why she has to be “so rude” and “so insensitive”.

I chose the title “conscious parenting” because that’s what relationship astrology can help us with–we are more conscious of why we’re reacting a certain way to a person when it’s clear they’re triggering certain hotspots in our own chart. Still, I don’t think it’s possible, or even healthy, to practice conscious parenting, or conscious relating in general, all the time. In fact, some of the most revealing lessons in life come from messy periods of trial and error. And, in fact, this is one of the lessons of Aries. Sometimes it’s better to jump in and experience things, fully confident that if we do make mistakes, we’ll be able to handle the consequences and even turn them into an advantage.

When planets are changing signs, if we haven’t used the cycle well, we can jump to conclusions and decisions quite impulsively. Sometimes we’ll be deliberating over something and, with the energy shift of a planet changing signs, we might make a snap decision in the opposite direction of what we’ve been leaning towards. We have three personal planets changing signs within a very short time frame, and the initial feelings of these shifts might be confusion, defiance, or tension. It’s probably wise to hold off on major decision making until we’re in a calmer frame of mind.

With Venus conjunct the South Node and stimulating last month’s powerful Solar Eclipse, some of us could encounter a lover from our past or experience a meeting with someone that has a fated quality to it; but many of us will revisit issues from our past through our relationships and contacts. This is a time when we may examine our love relationships in terms of how they might be holding us back from personal growth. Again, it’s probably better to observe rather than act, and let things absorb. However, the T-square occurs in the first degree of cardinal signs, demanding some form of action. It may very well provide the impetus for making needed changes, but care should be taken as it is a very volatile combination. With Mercury-Mars-Pluto, we can quite stubbornly cling to our own ideas and attempt to force them upon others, while not truly seeing, or at least listening to, others’ points of view. It’s not only a “you’re wrong!” type of energy, it also has a “this is how you should think!” attitude. Mercury with Mars can be over-zealous; Pluto adds compulsion and a desire to force-feed to the mix. Communications are likely to be in absolutes. It’s a tense, mind-racing, fixated, stressed out energy. We’re also a little more accident-prone (physically and socially!). It’s a good time to observe what this T-square pulls up from inside of ourselves.

One of the themes is an attraction to complicated relationships and/or attraction to a “fixer-upper”. Venus-Neptune people seem to be drawn to trouble in love like moth to flame. They might find themselves in love triangles, in love with an attached person, drawn to people with addictions, or attracted to people who seem to be in need of help. It’s hard to say whether their expectations in personal relationships are too high or too low. On the one hand, they tend to easily accept behaviors in their partners that others wouldn’t accept, as they are compassionate and see human weakness as attractive and beautiful. On the other hand, their romantic dreams may be so powerful that they are easily disappointed with the reality of relationships. It’s also difficult to say whether a Venus-Neptune person is easy to please or difficult to please. Little romantic gestures from a loved one might put them on cloud nine; but what others might consider “normal” disappointments can bring a Venus-Neptune person crashing down. Sometimes, they’re easy to please for the moment, and difficult to please for very long!

A Venus-Neptune person can quite readily fall in love with the concept of loving, failing to see the reality of the relationship or the loved one. For example, some with these aspects cling to a romantic notion that someone loves them when in reality that person doesn’t return the affection. Or, they may cling to a romance that has lost all hope. Another possibility is devoting their love to someone who is unattainable or who is unable to commit. Yet another Venus-Neptune scenario is loving someone who treats them badly, all the while clinging to an idealized image of the partner. No matter what the scenario, romantic yearning and longing, as well as delusion, tends to be the theme. The expectation here is that loving someone requires self-sacrifice, and the result can be an attraction to relationships that are co-dependent and even abusive. Venus-Neptune people are often drawn to victim/savior relationships, and they can play either the role of victim or savior–sometimes swinging between the two! Dependency or neediness in a partner can be confused for love. In an attempt to love unconditionally, they may too readily sacrifice their own needs and eventually feel used. Sometimes, it’s about being in love with their own ability to love unconditionally! Forgiving a loved one (repeatedly) can give them a rush.

It’s important to consider the possibility of “fear of commitment”– an idea that many Venus-Neptune people, especially those who are constantly yearning for an ideal love relationship, might initially balk at. This might be especially true for those of us who are constantly finding ourselves in relationships that seem to have little hope. Our friends and family are telling us that we “deserve better”, and we tell them (or ourselves) that they don’t know the whole story. The challenge for Venus-Neptune is to truly love a partner for who he or she is, not for his or her perceived potential. Because they yearn to be loved, it can be hard for them to see that they may actually be afraid of a complete, committed relationship. One symptom of this fear is loving someone for an idealized image they have of that person, as they are effectively choosing fantasy over reality. Another symptom is loving someone who is inaccessible or unattainable, as this keeps them “safe” from a true and realistic commitment. At the root of this fear is the awareness of their own vulnerability in love.

If we repeatedly find ourselves in relationships in which we feel we’ve been deceived by a loved one, then another important consideration will be whether we’re somehow inviting others to deceive us.  Let’s say my partner tells me something about his romantic past that shocks me–or rather, that rocks my fantasies of ideal love. If I react in an overly sensitive manner to this, my partner might decide to keep other similar types of confessions to himself rather than share them with me. This pattern can continue to the point where my partner actually encourages me to live in my own little fantasy world, fearful that he might burst my bubble or hurt me with the truth. One day, I might discover something about my partner that floors me, and I might decide that I have been deceived or used.

With my Venus-Neptune square and sensitive 12th house Pisces Moon, I noticed this particular pattern rather early in my adult life, in my marriage. I have since worked on it quite extensively, and it’s not always easy to do so. I’ve even heard myself say “please don’t burst my bubble”, as there were times when I was terrified of the truth. I’ve certainly learned that the truth hurts far less than lies do. Awareness of Venus-Neptune themes is always helpful, but it doesn’t mean I am struggle-free in this area.

With the hard aspects, we can experience extremes of trust and distrust in love. Neptune is “very good at” swinging from extremes, and very rarely finds that middle ground. We may have been naive in our early relationships, but have since faced some ugly truths. The term “ugly truth” is very Neptunian. In fact, we might strive towards seeing truths as beautiful. With difficult experiences under our belt, we might question our judgment in subsequent relationships. In her excellent ebook, Outer Planet Aspects to Venus and Mars, Donna Cunningham notes that Venus-Neptune people rarely “turn their back on love after being badly burned”–they are drawn to love relationships over and over again. Even after experiencing love relationships in which their trust has been betrayed, Venus-Neptune people usually keep on plugging.

However, I feel it’s impossible to truly fool ourselves when we’re faced with repeated themes of dishonesty in our partners, especially with the hard aspects of Venus and Neptune, and this can be at the root of the mood swings that are so often present with Venus-Neptune. We can imagine terrible things about our partner one day, and wonderful things the next. We might question our own judgment, and fear judgment itself. We can feel trapped in a state of not knowing when faced with signs that a partner is deceiving us, fearful of passing judgment on a loved one just in case we are wrong. Venus-Neptune people want to love a partner unconditionally, but can struggle with their very human need to establish boundaries and rules, not always accepting this need in themselves as a valid one. The general rule should be that if something doesn’t feel good or right, something should be done about it. Venus-Neptune people might feel guilty for setting up rules in love.

Venus-Neptune can fall in love with imperfection. They will see beauty in the downtrodden, the underdog, the lost causes. This is, in fact, a beautiful trait. The struggle comes when we feel badly about the sacrifices we make for a relationship, or for another person. I have said it many times before that the very idea that we are making sacrifices for someone else is a dangerous place to be. If we feel that we are giving something up for someone else, we have to take responsibility for that action to the point that we don’t even feel that it is a sacrifice. We have to recognize that we are giving up something for ourselves, and if we don’t feel that way, then we are headed for serious disappointment.

With Venus-Jupiter-Neptune-Chiron in my natal chart, my first reaction to, for example, singles ads that list all of the qualities a person wants in a potential mate, prenuptial agreements, or anything that seems to treat love relationships like businesses, is some level of horror. Saturn, practical Virgo, and the earthy sixth house are all strong in my chart, so I do understand these things on some level. However, there is part of me that just can’t truly understand how people can treat their love life as if it were a business. I remember when I was separating from my husband, and discovering after the fact that our finances were in a total mess, my brother offered me very sound advice that I didn’t follow because of this basic belief. He even told me that he knew it might be hard to do, but to at least temporarily treat my marriage as a business, stay together, sort out finances, and after that decide whether or not the marriage should be dissolved. In retrospect, it truly was sound and practical advice. I might even give the same advice to someone in a similar situation. But at the time, I felt it was beyond me to follow it. This is Venus-Neptune. Practical considerations when it comes to matters of the heart are often thrown out the window.

Venus rules money as well as social relationships, and a person with hard Venus-Neptune aspects can just as well lose money due to the tendency to gloss over problems. Just as they tend to ignore warning signs in personal relationships, they can let money slip through their fingers because they neglect to keep records or account for their belongings. They may have problems from “borrowing from their future” because of overly optimistic attitudes. They may continuously get the short end of the stick as they lend money to people who never pay them back, or invest in unrealistic projects. Have you ever seen a grown woman cover her eyes and then reluctantly and fearfully peek through her fingers at her bank account records? I have! She has Venus square Neptune.

We’re not all incurable romantics in the more obvious sense of the word “romantic”. I have been accused of being less than romantic, probably because of Saturn and Uranus both strong in my chart. Most people who know me would describe me as practical and grounded. I am generally a good judge of character as well. I can usually call bad situations before they happen, especially when it comes to people who have hidden agendas, scams, and the like. Yet I have experienced virtually every possible Venus-Neptune scenario in my life. While I don’t overtly express the gushier, starry-eyed side of Venus-Neptune, I have often failed to apply logic and practicality to my own love life. In fact, I often knew what was happening on some level and let it happen. Turning a blind eye to red flags is Neptunian.

I’ve recently considered the possibility that I might be addicted on some level to the drama involved with a challenging love life. I didn’t want to believe that was the case, by all means. After all, why would I want to experience heartache? I once read somewhere that all (Neptune-ruled) Pisces, on some level, want to be martyrs. The experience of heartache and angst can be oddly addictive and possibly even satisfying on some level. It can give birth to very powerful and potent creative impulses, can force us into a reflective state, and can bring us to new levels of consciousness and even enlightenment.

I have two male friends who have Mars in Taurus in opposition to Neptune in Scorpio. Both of them admit to an addiction to sexual “challenges”, at different levels. Mars in Taurus alone can be quite hedonistic. Add Neptune to the equation, and the addiction factor might come into play. One of these guys is forever chasing tail. He is at a point where simply finding a woman, wooing her, and bedding her is not enough. He is bored of that straightforward approach! He sets up what he calls “challenges” for himself. I won’t go into the gory details, but there is clearly an addiction involved.

Through a conversation with the other male friend with Mars-Neptune, I recognized Venus-Neptune by substituting the word “sex” with “love”. He talked about how he is attracted to a woman who he feels is a challenge to get into bed. He is not interested in a woman who is all out there, “easy”, or straightforward about her sexual needs. The ultimate challenge for him is to woo a woman who keeps her sexual needs on some level a mystery. I found this conversation interesting because this is sometimes the case for women with Venus-Neptune in their charts, except that they are often attracted to “bad boys” who seem to have a lot of good inside. Their challenges or conquests involve wooing a man who is perhaps on the macho side, who has never fallen in love or made a commitment, or who is not overtly romantic, and having him fall in love with her. And what if either of these people “succeed” at this challenge? Some will be satisfied, and others might move on to the next challenge. Of course, not all people with Venus-Neptune and Mars-Neptune aspects are addicted to romantic and sexual challenges or conquests! It’s simply one way that these aspects can play out. Venus-Neptune people have much to offer–they’re often delightfully quirky, they find beauty in odd things (and people!), there’s very little they won’t do for a loved one, and they can be quite seductively just a little out of reach. They can be attracted to people with a lot of “layers”, and delight in peeling them.

What are possible solutions to the challenges of Venus-Neptune in relationships? For one, we should ask ourselves whether we are attracted to these very challenges. On the other hand, we might ask ourselves whether we are afraid of the challenges of committed partnership–not only the demands it might make on us, but also whether we feel worthy of its possible rewards–that is, if in fact committed partnership is a goal, as it is not for everyone. Not everyone with these aspects suffers greatly. In fact, once we can accept that we are attracted to the complications and complexities of love relationships, our experiences can be seen in a different light–as rich, creative, and rewarding. We can learn so very much about ourselves and our limits as we strive towards limitlessness, about others, and about love itself.

This one by Dido is good for a Neptunian disappointment…discovering that “you’re just a boy, not a man, (and I’m not coming back)”…

One of my favorite songs, Chicane’s No Ordinary Morning:

Another huge fave, by Sinead O’Connor, Thank You for Hearing Me. I would have to say that this is what I consider the most beautiful song about a relationship that has ended, and coming to peace with it…

The Cranberries, Daffodil Lament, about getting the courage to leave and move on, after struggling with the decision…

Imogen Heap’s The Moment I Said It, about the realization that a lover is likely leaving her (for someone else)…

My Immortal by Evanescence…

I wasn’t thinking too much about how the Lunar Eclipse in Capricorn would affect me personally, which occurred in my tenth house, square my Mercury and Saturn. The most I concerned myself with was how I was going to manage working and vacationing at the same time. What in fact happened was that I walked into my Dad’s home, and within a few hours, I was emotionally raw, pouring out some of my most private and personal feelings revolving around my father. And, my father and I actually hugged and resolved to “start over”, after years of emotional distance.

My brother, who is a Leo with a Virgo Moon and who has a pretty packed eighth house, was our unofficial mediator. (He’s amazing at mediating!). My father and I enjoyed a brief but very lovely relationship until I was 8 when my parents separated. His Sun and Moon are my reverse–I have Sun in Virgo opposite Moon in Pisces, and my dad has Sun in Pisces opposite Moon in Virgo. Our Ascendants are also in opposite signs. My mother moved me and my siblings 300 miles away when my parents separated, and we visited my father on holidays and in the summer for years, until my father and I had a falling out when I was 15. We “sort of” reconciled when I was 18, but never truly did in spirit.

It was truly a spectacular and unexpected outpouring of emotion, and I am very glad it happened. As is typical of Full Moon outpourings, it seemed to come out of nowhere, yet, in retrospect, was something that was a long time coming. I expressed deeply personal things that I never expected to actually put into words, at least not verbally. From birth until about 20, I was pretty much obsessed with my father and how he might have felt about me. I fantasized that he was “the only one who understood me” after my parents separated, yet there was nothing that proved that was the case. Then, at 15, I imagined him to be an awful person who was incapable of love; yet, there was nothing that truly proved that either, except perhaps his emotional distance. This kind of ongoing fantasy seems to me like it would be a natal hard Sun-Neptune thing, which both my siblings have, but I don’t. One of the things that I said to my Dad in the heat of the moment, however, points in the direction of my Venus-Neptune square, as I told him that losing his affection/interest was the biggest “heartbreak” of my life. Neptune is currently transiting in opposition to my natal Venus as well. As a child, I was in love with him–he was my hero. I had nightmares about killer bees and he let me sleep with him because of them, and when the nightmares ended, I pretended they were ongoing so that I could continue to do so. I took everything he told me to heart. When my parents separated, my father moved in with a new partner right away (in fact, a little before they separated), and everything changed.

The interplay between Pisces Moon (me) and Virgo Moon (my Dad)  is sometimes rather funny to me. My father kept trying to steer the conversation towards facts, while I was desperately attempting to get him to see that it’s the personal reality of the experience that is most important.

Another astrological clue to my identifying with my father is Saturn rising, with Saturn ruling my tenth house. I also spent many years attempting to disassociate myself from him, which is pretty much the same thing in my mind. Whether I attempted to identify or disassociate myself with him, I was assigning him tremendous power in my life.

This experience sent me to my Solar Fire software, checking past Lunar Eclipses at approximately the same degree (Solar Fire is great for that). My blow-up with my father when I was almost 15 occurred in July 1982, when a Lunar Eclipse occurred in Capricorn. At that time, I had had enough, and I attempted to end my relationship with him. Another Lunar Eclipse at 15 Capricorn occurred in July, 2001, a few days after I initiated a separation with my husband. Interesting! I hadn’t noticed this pattern before. The upcoming Solar Eclipse in the last degree of Cancer should be powerful–intriguing how last month’s New Moon was in the first degree of Cancer, the Full Moon was halfway through Capricorn, and the upcoming New Moon occurs in the final degree of Cancer.

While I enjoyed my little vacation, it’s nice to be back home. The internet connection was slow and spotty at the cottage where I was staying, and I had forgotten to bring my favorite (flat) pillow!

I remember watching an Oprah show many years ago in which Michael over-defended himself to the point that I was wincing, and thought of Mercury opposite Chiron. Although seemingly at ease on stage, he put so very much of himself into his performances; and personal interviews showed a considerable lack of ease. Many of his responses seemed very studied and rehearsed–almost entirely lacking in spontaneity–and painted a picture of a man who was quite ill at ease in the face of personal attention, extremely sensitive and defensive, and very private.

A Sun-Pluto conjunction (in Virgo) can be indicative of a person who is obsessive, controlling, and driven, but can just as often be an energy that is turned inward–Sun-Pluto people are sometimes their own worst enemy, never truly satisfied with who they are or what they produce, and also quite controlling of what others know about them. Given all of the negative exposure over the years, this could have only been devastating. I had written the following about Sun in hard aspect to Pluto, which can apply here: “Another characteristic of these aspects is an intense need for privacy. They fear being exposed or invaded. Again, this is an expression of their dissatisfaction with the self they are projecting, and they are generally uncomfortable with their evolving ego. They seem to undergo many identity crises, and they feel the need to control what others know about them and think about them. Their fear of exposing themselves might cause them problems with others, who may begin to mistrust them, presuming that if they are so protective of their privacy, they must have something sinister to hide. The truth is, they struggle with a dissatisfaction with themselves and their fear of being exposed is really about a fear of being vulnerable, as well as a manifestation of their own identity crisis.”

There’s also his Ceres in Virgo opposite the Moon and square Saturn, which may have been one of the indicators of his eating disorder. If the rectified chart with a birth time of 11:53 PM is to be believed, then his Ascendant in Gemini is also involved. All of these have recently been triggered by transiting Saturn. Virgo’s association with diet, health, and well-being is not always expressed purely, of course. When a person, especially a Virgo, is abusing his/her body, it’s a very good sign that there’s something seriously wrong, particularly if they once treated it as a temple. Michael’s attention to health was considered peculiar years ago, but it turned against himself over the course of the years with his growing personal struggles.

The Jupiter-Neptune-Chiron conjunction was opposing his natal retrograde Mercury in Leo at the time of his death. Mercury rules his Virgo Sun, and, again if the rectified chart is to be believed, then also his Gemini Ascendant.

Where Chiron is in the natal chart is where we might feel ineffective, wounded, guilty, or otherwise unable to express ourselves naturally and confidently (without some work). Often it has to do with early and painful experiences, but there are people with Chiron “issues” who can’t pinpoint a particular incident or experience in childhood to explain them, and really it’s not necessary to do so. Chiron as the Wounded Healer often does push a person towards healing others, through personal experience and deep sensitivity to the particular planet’s energy that it aspects. Wisdom that is often associated with Chiron comes from this sensitivity and the lifelong learning process. I have a friend who is a marriage counselor by profession (he has Venus conjunct Chiron), and is considered to be a very good one. He’s in his forties and on his third marriage, and you can imagine, takes some flak for this fact. However, he is learning from his own personal struggles, and is able to bring what he learns into his work with couples, and very effectively at that.

Early expression of Chiron hard aspects is often choppy, unnatural, and ineffective. As we learn to accept this part of ourselves as valid and deserving, it becomes easier to express it without consequent feelings of guilt or shame.

As an example: Chiron-Mars. The ability to assert ourselves and our desires, and to express anger, come into play with Mars. With Chiron in hard aspect to Mars, we are somehow ashamed of expressing our desires directly and confidently. Perhaps we don’t expect our desires to be met. My friend has a child who would rarely ask for anything from his parents directly. Instead, he would convince his sisters to ask his parents for what he wanted. Although mostly even-tempered, he would sometimes have huge angry outbursts with tears following the outbursts–nothing violent or alarming, but nevertheless choppy. When asked by his mother why he always seemed to enlist the help of a sibling to ask for something that he wanted, he replied that “you wouldn’t do it if I asked”. The mother didn’t think that was true, but the issue here is that it is a personal reality for him–that’s how he perceives things. He has Mars in Pisces conjunct Saturn and opposite Chiron. Mars in Pisces on its own can be roundabout, but I think Chiron complicates matters considerably.

Another child I know who has Mercury conjunct Chiron in Libra (and widely opposing Saturn) asked why it seems that every time she has the courage to state her opinion on something, it seems to completely backfire. She feels that others around her can easily express an opinion without negative feedback, but when she says something even slightly provocative, it’s met with raised eyebrows. It’s hard to say whether it is due to extreme sensitivity to feedback (where Chiron is, there is usually extreme sensitivity to others’ responses, and sometimes imagined negative feedback), or if it’s because others sense her fear of expressing herself. If we don’t feel that our needs or feelings are valid when we express an energy, it can most certainly come out the wrong way, with a tone that almost invites negative feedback.

It reminds me of the interplay of two of my cats that I had years ago. They were brothers, and one was terrified of the other. The scared one wouldn’t just walk past the tough one normally, he would slink past him. I watched this interplay and wished that the scaredy cat would walk confidently past the tougher cat, because by slinking he would get the very negative attention that he was fearful of. A fight would then ensue. There were a few times when the scared cat didn’t notice the tough cat was around and he was able to pass him without incident. No slinking=no fight.

So it’s a bit of a chicken-and-egg thing, and can very much be a vicious circle. If we’re scared of expressing ourselves, when we do summon up the courage to do it, it can come out either too aggressively or too emotionally–unnaturally–and is thus somehow ineffective. This then feeds the very feeling of ineffectiveness that is at the root of the unnatural expression. Something that stands out for me (with Sun opposite Chiron) was an incident that really shouldn’t have been considered an incident at all. However, the sensitivity of Chiron can be extreme, especially in our early years. I was with a group of friends at a birthday party as a young child, and although I was typically rather shy, I was feeling goofy, and did a silly little dance. My mother said, “stop showing off”, likely in a playful tone, because she is not a vindictive person. I shrunk–I felt like a complete idiot. Another person might take it for what it was–playfulness–and it’s unlikely they would carry this memory to adulthood, either. I can’t imagine my mother was putting me down, but I perceived it as such. With Sun-Chiron in hard aspect, there can be a feeling of embarrassment following a Sun-style expression of “shining”–of strutting your stuff.

Chiron is closely conjunct my Moon (in Pisces, within one degree) and opposes my Sun-Uranus-Pluto. I think it’s one of the reasons why I spent a good portion of my life feeling guilty for almost everything I did (or didn’t do)! Moon conjunct Chiron in Pisces, I believe, is “responsible” for spontaneous tears at anything remotely touching or moving (amongst many other things). As a kid, I hated this tendency of mine with a passion, finding it embarrassing and awkward, and making every attempt to cover it up. I blamed it on migraines (the pain is tearing me up), on remembering my cat’s death, on anything I could, really. Many times I would cry for no particular reason. I have a memory of one of my teachers in elementary school approaching me in class and asking me why I had tears in my eyes, and I said, quite honestly, “I don’t know”. This wonderful woman took me out of the class and talked to me in the teacher’s lounge at length. I loved her for it, just because she seemed to sincerely care, but I truly didn’t know what it was that moved me to tears. It was perhaps a fleeting thought or feeling that caused me to cry that I sincerely didn’t remember. Finally, in true Piscean fashion, I offered her a story for why I was sad, entirely fictional, but just because she seemed so eager to want to know and help, and I didn’t want to let her down!

As I grew older, I learned to accept it–I stopped fighting it–and now I can just let the tears flow without having to apologize or cover up. My kids and I went to a movie (a pretty corny but entertaining one) just the other day and my youngest made a game out of it, counting how many times I teared up. I also possess the ability to laugh and cry at once, which is most of the time. And, the up side to this story is that I can just as readily laugh and smile as I do cry, often without reason, too. While laughing at anything even remotely absurd or “off” was also a problem growing up (when I had laughing fits at totally inappropriate moments), it was easier to accept than the spontaneous crying.

I don’t think crying spontaneously is necessarily a signature of Moon-Chiron, but there is a deep emotional sensitivity there that is unmistakable and expressed in different ways. Similar to the outbursts of temper with hard Mars-Chiron I mentioned above, one of the challenges of hard Moon-Chiron aspects is to express the emotions naturally and evenly, instead of holding onto them in fear, bottling them up, until emotions come out in a dramatic moment, after which there is embarrassment and awkwardness. With Moon-Chiron, we can have a real feeling that others don’t care about our emotions, but this feeling is on some level self-fulfilling. It’s the vicious circle thing again. Holding onto your feelings to the point that when you express them, it comes out as an outburst, is baffling to others. They don’t know how to react, and this feeds the feeling of ineffectiveness or lack of validation that caused the pattern.

I think of Chiron energy as similar to the nature of the inconjunct (quincunx) when it comes to feelings of guilt–of not doing enough. People with Chiron strong in their charts will often give a lot, but never feel satisfied with how much they’ve done. They have to stop from time to time to remind themselves just how much they have given, because otherwise they won’t necessarily see it, or believe it. There is often a strong need to help, to be useful, to teach or enlighten. And the ones who do teach or heal in some manner generally totally throw themselves into the process. Venus-Chiron people might attach themselves to partners who need help, or who demand a lot from them. With the hard aspects, their need for affection and fear of rejection can be tremendous. At the heart of Chiron “wounds” is a feeling that we’re just not good enough or deserving enough. It’s humility, but unhealthy humility borne of low self-esteem. Humility is also found when Chiron is strong and mostly flowing in the chart, but it’s healthy and confident.

With Chiron, there is often a quest and sincere motivation to learn, grow, and heal, and this is why Chiron’s conjunction with Neptune (and Jupiter) this month is so interesting. It brings with it an opportunity period for understanding our addictions, whether they are addictions to substances, dreams, concepts, or relationships. I’ve personally been experiencing unusual psychic/intuitive prompts and pokes by the scores that I have yet to completely make sense of, although some things can’t and possibly shouldn’t be defined. It’s a period of great psychic openness, which can be fabulously healing on one level, and challenging on another in terms of the possibility of being led astray. Hard Chiron transits can sometimes coincide with periods when we seek a teacher, guru, or leader, because of our own uncertainty or feelings of ineffectiveness/unworthiness, so we need to be wary of attaching ourselves to the wrong person or cause. On the other hand, maybe it’s exactly what we need to do in order to learn. I know quite a few people born close to me with Jupiter square Neptune natally, including myself, and we have all sorts of interesting plans, visions, and dreams. What’s missing is the will to make them happen. There’s a lot of procrastination and avoidance, and in some cases, a bending of personal philosophies to explain what is probably essentially a lack of motivation and follow-through. With Chiron in the mix, there may be a little more motivation to do something productive with our ideas and plans.

There are many reasons for this. Sometimes it’s about a person’s young age, or it’s about failing to see the chart as a whole, or about failing to see the other influences on that particular element of the chart.

I am not saying that we should try to fit a natal chart to match our traits, just to say it works. It’s about opening the mind up to the possibility that it does work if only we have the right tools to understand it.

I began to study astrology in 1979, when I was 12 years old. I had to calculate my birth chart by hand, and with limited resources. Nobody I knew had any interest in astrology beyond Sun sign astrology. Come to think of it, I didn’t know anyone who was even interested in the basics. I lived at that time in a small city in Quebec, and libraries were proportionally small and mostly in French. Coming from Ontario, I didn’t yet know enough French to “get” much from French astrology books. Needless to say, it was a challenge to construct my natal chart, and the first time I did it, it wasn’t exactly right. For about 4 months, I was looking at my slightly incorrect natal chart.

So, sometimes it has to do with a miscalculated chart. Even though charts are generally drawn up using software nowadays, sometimes something like Daylight Savings Time isn’t incorporated when it should.

More often, though, it’s about not taking into account the chart as a whole, and failing to consider other influences on the particular point in question.

Upon seeing my (correct) chart for the first time, I didn’t identify with my Aries Ascendant. Sun in Virgo, Moon in Pisces, Mercury in Libra…these worked for me. But Aries Ascendant? I was shy, sometimes painfully so, and although not exactly timid, I definitely couldn’t be described as bold, assertive, or aggressive. It was about a year before I got my hands on the book Saturn: A New Look at An Old Devil, by Liz Greene, and everything came together. I had Saturn in Aries rising, so no wonder I couldn’t identify with an Aries Ascendant. The very traits associated with Aries, such as self-confidence, assertiveness, and courage, were traits that I needed to develop (they were not coming naturally at all, which is supposed to be the case for an Ascendant sign). These were highly sensitive issues for me growing up, still are to some extent, and this can be attributed to Saturn’s position in Aries, the first house, and conjunct the Ascendant.

So, that piece of the puzzle fell into place. Any planets conjunct or aspecting the Ascendant are going to play a role in the expression of the Ascendant. The ruler of the Ascendant is also going to play a role. The same, of course, is true for the Sun, Moon, Mercury, and so forth. If your Sun is in Sagittarius, and it’s conjunct (or square, etc.) Saturn, it might be hard to identify with many of the traits associated with Sagittarius. Similarly, if your Sun is in Pisces, which is not by any means an aggressive sign, but it’s conjunct or square fiery Mars, you’re not going to identify with some Pisces descriptions like “meek” or “indirect”.

Another part of my chart that I failed to identify with was Sun conjunct Pluto, and this brings me to a few other reasons for failing to identify with some of the parts of the picture: lack of self-knowledge, lack of experience, projecting traits onto others, and misunderstanding the meaning of the energy. Failing to see the chart as a whole, which is in my opinion the biggest reason for not identifying with a particular element in the chart, is part of it, but not the only reason.

The descriptions I read for Sun conjunct Pluto didn’t work for me at all. For one, many interpretations of Sun-Pluto (or any Pluto aspect in the natal chart, for that matter) are pretty extreme. I couldn’t see myself as fanatical, power-hungry, or demanding. I didn’t have power struggles with authority figures, either. In fact, I was more often than not a teacher’s pet, I respected most rules, and didn’t ask for much from anyone. With life experience, however, Sun-Pluto themes did crop up. I stirred up a few controversies (unwittingly, I felt), had a mini power struggle with one of my principals, felt the need to leave a job because I detested the way the owner of the business treated his clients, and married a man with very strong Pluto and Scorpio in his chart.

We can repeatedly meet with energies in our chart that we don’t “own” as events or conditions we feel are outside of us. Sometimes women “disown” parts of their Sun and/or Mars, meeting them through the men in their lives; and similarly sometimes men might disown elements of their Moon and/or Venus and experience them through women in their lives. Oppositions are also especially vulnerable to this type of projection.

Also, when a personal planet or point is in hard aspect to a very slow-moving planet (Pluto, Uranus, Neptune), we’re going to meet that same natal aspect through the synastry of relationships with people in the same age group. I have Sun conjunct Pluto and Uranus, and in any relationship that I have with someone born in the year or so surrounding my birth, that person’s Pluto and Uranus will conjunct my Sun in synastry. Thus it’s going to be easy for me to see Pluto and Uranus outside of myself, as opposed to part of myself. I might easily “meet” Pluto and Uranus through others in my life who I might feel are demanding, possessive, unreliable, inconsistent, etc.

And, we don’t always see ourselves clearly! Others might see the traits we’re not identifying with much more clearly than we do. I remember hearing my relatives and friends outside of my hospital room talking. Perhaps they thought I was asleep or couldn’t hear, but either way they were talking about me in the third person! I heard such things as she’s so strong, she’ll overcome this, she’s a fighter, she won’t be down for long. Sounds pretty Sun-Pluto to me. I was thinking to myself…”who are they talking about?” Sometimes we’re so busy living inside of ourselves that it’s hard to know for certain what traits we project.

The fact that our personalities evolve over time plays a role as well. A young person’s “life story” hasn’t yet unfolded. He or she hasn’t had the chance to discover the myriad facets of his/her natal chart. When Pluto transited square to my natal Sun-Pluto, I learned a little more about my natal imprint, and I will learn more as I continue to discover myself in years to come.

I can’t count how many times I’ve received emails from people either uncertain of their Sun sign because they’re born on the cusp, or who know their Sun sign but identify more with the sign on the other side of the cusp. Almost always, a person who identifies more with the other Sun sign have other personal planets posited in the sign. For example, you might have a Taurus Sun and identify a lot with Gemini, and this could be because Mercury and Venus are in Gemini. The same is true for Ascendants. One example was a woman who identified with a Scorpio Ascendant, not the Libra Ascendant she was told she had. It turned out that she did in fact have a Libra Ascendant, but with Pluto, Scorpio’s ruler, almost exactly conjunct the Ascendant.

In our example of Venus-Jupiter, both people share a big-hearted, generous, and growth-oriented approach to love and relationship. Both want to love wholeheartedly, and want to give a lot to the people they love. The difference is that for the person with the Venus-Jupiter trine, the expression of this combination is easy and constant. It comes naturally. The person with the Venus-Jupiter square has trouble expressing this energy naturally. He or she might do things, often unconsciously, that interfere with satisfying the basic drive. For example, in an effort to give a lot to a partner, he or she might promise more than can be realistically delivered. There’s an imbalance. The trine person, then, can be a living example of Venus-Jupiter traits and can thus help bring balance and constancy to the square person’s life.

Of course, the potential for learning can only be realized if the common ground between the two people is sensed or understood. In our example of Venus-Jupiter, both people are looking for sincerity and warmth in their partners. The basic drive is to love and share in a big way. If the trine person fails to see that basic drive and intent in the square person, and only sees the lack of fulfillment or inconstancy, conflict and frustration is more likely.

This can be applied to any natal planetary combination that appears in both charts, of course. In the case of a Venus-Uranus combination, for example, both people are sensitive to the feeling of being restricted or stereotyped in a partnership. Both need to feel stimulated in a love relationship. However, the person with the easy or flowing Venus-Uranus aspect more easily finds ways to keep things exciting and open in a relationship, without the need for upsetting confrontations or drama. Certainly, the person with the Venus-Uranus hard aspect will find this trait appealing. Ideally, the person with the hard Venus-Uranus aspect can learn (and benefit) from this behavior.

It’s interesting to note that often these shared planetary combinations are repeated in the composite chart. How they combine in the composite chart (that is, whether they are easy or challenging) can be revealing in terms of how they might play out in the relationship.