How to Romance the Planets
Less doomscrolling, more swoon-worthy transits. Astrology as sacred romance.
Miranda - The Tempest - John William Waterhouse (1916)
After my last post, I was jarred by a rogue wave of nihilistic 'why bother' thoughts as I tumbled ever deeper; the tether that I held on to and eventually helped me come back up to the surface was reading romance novels. Like a shipwrecked sailor, I was saved by the mermaid of Romance.
Less news, more romance.
Less breaking news headlines, more happily ever afters.
Less fear cockblocking sanity, more literary orgasms sparking creativity.
Sure, this is escapism at its fluffiest.
But isn't binge-watching your favorite Netflix series escapism?
Never-ending sports events?
Scrolling the endless supply of cat videos?
Consuming entertainment as a hedonistic glutton?
Even doomscrolling is a form of hardcore escapism.
And what are we escaping?
Being in a relationship with what is.
I don't mean just accepting what is. I mean, as seeing ‘what is’ as something that wants, even demands, us to be in relationship to it. It requires us to approach it like we'd approach a new person in our lives, with curiosity, in trying to see where we connect, and staying open to how it unfolds as we dance give and take.
Spring Moon - Alfred James Dewey (1874-1958)
It's not so dissimilar from a romance novel trope.
We may resist, avoid, turn away, put up obstacles, etc. - all to avoid the fated encounter with the Other - whatever this Other may be.
If you've been following my writing, you've seen me speak to how it's all RELATIONAL. We are not only relating to each other, but with other forces, visible and unseen, not to mention archetypal - deified or not.
And it's the lack of this relational approach that has me hot and bothered about how I'm feeling about how astrology has been used to speak of these times.
Don't get me wrong, there are many great astrologers out there, and to each their own. Taste is taste, and there will always be someone who does it for you. But in the last few years, I've grown ever more disappointed seeing how folks use the astrological language - professionals, as well as those who know enough to be dangerous (i.e., from early dabblers to the newly converted) to rehash the same lackluster and fear-drenched narrative. And at times, some veer into extreme and unrealistic positivity. (I'm sure part of this issue has to do with the almighty tech god: Algorithm and the need to propitiate what it needs.)
While it upsets me, this is all part and parcel of the developmental journey for when we fall in love with a particular subject. We repeat like parrots. We proselytize. We preach keywords as gospel. We project anything to fit our worldview.
I'm doing the very same with this article. I've committed all of the above sins and will likely commit them again. Again, part and parcel for this journey. I'm no saint, for no one is. What I'd like to see for myself and others is at least an attempt to propose a different take. I want to find a third way - the middle path between grounded reality and hope. My concern is that we live in times that require out-of-the-box imagination and thinking.
Evoking imagination and relational presence is hard to do because we have not been brought up to exercise these muscles. Add the constant barrage of fear to our collective psyches, and our ability to imagine creatively a different way through these times is cockblocked*.
Love’s Shadow (1867) by Frederick Sandys
So yes, when it comes to planetary transits, it's normal to suffer 'astrological anxiety' (i.e., biting your nails due to a Saturn Return transit, an Uranus crossing the Ascendant, a Pluto coming for your Sun/Moon or Venus, etc.) While 'astrological anxiety' is real (I have it myself!), this is not the only way through.
Sure, we need to take stock of how these planetary archetypes have manifested before, because for millennia, they have given us plenty of examples. But these were commensurate with the level of consciousness humanity had at that time.
Yes, Saturn will constrict and trim down. Neptune will inebriate us with an ideal and/or illusion. Uranus will disrupt our status quo. And Pluto will burst our psyche's sewage pipes, spewing all that sludge to the surface. There are plenty of historical and personal examples to fit these examples.
But, and there's always a but - we have learned a thing or two in all of these centuries (Quantum Physics, anyone?).
Sure, mob mentality expresses what is least healed, along with the more manic and unconscious aspects of our collective. And yet, despite the maddening circus we're sold as the only thing in town, many are capable of navigating these times with more imagination and creativity. (If you're reading this, you're one of them.)
We're doomed to repeat patterns until we become aware of them and can relate to them differently.
Think of the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray, who had to live out the same day endlessly, until he eventually started relating to the same encounters and events with a different relational mindset.
So let's think about the planets, their positions, and transits as the encounters and events we get to meet in our lives. But in this case, we're like Bill Murray's character, going through this merry-go-round of the same lessons, until we, like him, can flip the switch.
Romantic Encounter - Mihály Zichy (1864)
Time to have a Romantic Affair.
To put it simply, romance as a genre hinges on two pillars: the relationship as the focus, and the resolution as either a 'happily ever after' (HEA) or 'happy for now' (HFN). Once you have these, then you can add all the other elements according to taste: suspense, horror, fantasy, adventure, sci-fi, gothic, dark, comedy, fairy tale retellings, closed to open door intimacy, etc.
So why not approach planetary transits, either personal and/or collective, as a romantic relationship?
How do we court these archetypes once they make themselves present in our lives?
Each planet, like a different romantic lead, needs to be courted according to their 'personality'. We can't approach a Saturn transit in the same way we'd approach Pluto.
Instead, we have made these planets into monsters. We must break this enchantment we've been under and learn how to dance with these planets and their transits as if we're in a courtship. More wooing, less grinning and bearing it. If you've read your fairy tales and/or romance novels, you know the ingredient that always breaks spells - yep, it's love.
The etymology of romance as a noun comes from "c. 1300, romaunce, ‘a story, written or recited, in verse, telling of the adventures of a knight, hero, etc.’" Now, if we look at the word 'romantic', we can play with its makeup, even though it's not the accepted academic perspective.
Break the word into - RO + MANTIC**.
RO - "The prefix 'ro-' or 'ró-' primarily comes from Old Irish and can mean "forward," "to go forth…"
MANTIC - "relating to or pertaining to prophecy or divination," 1836, from Greek mantikos "prophetic, oracular, of or for a soothsayer," from mantis "one who divines, a seer, prophet; one touched by divine madness," from mainesthai "be inspired," which is related to menos "passion, spirit …"
From this perspective, we can play with the idea of romance/romantic as going forth into an inspired, prophetic, divine madness.
We can make our relationship with the planets an adventurous, inspired, and prophetic story. There's a divine component, as we're dealing with something much bigger than the human experience, but we're invited to bring our relational chops too. We don't have to be abducted victims of the planets and their transits, but we can try to court them as we would a new love.
Am I sounding a bit Pollyanna? Perhaps. It was one of my favorite books as a child, along with Heidi.
But the alternative that has been most often offered to us is leading us towards repetitive patterns, not a change in the plot. Not to mention, it provides way less joy, play, or pleasure. (Let's not forget pleasure! We dishonor Venus at our peril!)
What is then the divine madness, prophetically inspired adventure we can have with these current planetary transits?
We're not the only ones who would want to have a relationship with them. They also want to have a relationship with us. Just read the myths! Why are the gods and goddesses always coming over to us? Bidden or not, they'll come.
How might we woo these as we'd a lover?
In the following article, I want to explore Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto as romantic leads. How might we each do our bit to help our collective experience of their transits in their newly ingressed signs be less fearmongering and more relational?
*I'm using this word intentionally here, but approaching the sexual encounter as the union of opposites.
**Thanks Brian Clark for this nugget to reimagine romance!
Ease & Grace,
Vanessa Couto
