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Pluto Eyewitness Reports This
section contains writings from those interested in submitting
their personal experiences with Pluto. Please contact
me if you would like to contribute! Go back to the
Pluto Home Page.
Pluto's
Realm by
Suzan Still
There
is a hot spring, on the east side of the Sierras. One must pass
through several barbed wire and cedar post gates, and over a
road more rut than not, to reach it, in a desert valley, ringed
by snowcapped peaks, as if one were engulfed by the teeth of
Cerberus, with the hot spring as his throat.
The spring itself is
perfectly round, and perhaps fifty feet across. A giant
sinkhole, the calcined banks drop so abruptly into water that
one must attach a rope to the bumper of one's truck, and throw
it into the pool, to assure exit from this mystical cauldron.
For an alchemical
vessel is what it is. One only swims there naked. Upon
slipping into the water, which is slightly more than body
temperature, one realizes immediately the accuracy of local
lore: the hole is, indeed, bottomless. Near the
center, the current rising from the depths assaults one's lower
extremities. Even the most courageous soul is momentarily
humbled by the sensation of Mother heat - - the volcanic pulse
of earth's core - - rhythmically bathing in sulfurous
effervescence the helplessly dangling legs, the flaccid
genitalia, the vulnerable buttocks. Many
have reported, at that moment, the vision of sinking, un-
restrained, into that depth, into ever greater heat and pressure
and darkness. It is a glimpse of death, and the only
foretaste of resurrection is in that hairy rope, toward which
one flings oneself in haste. Paradoxically, once standing
again on terra firma, with the persistent high desert wind
chilling wet, goose pimpled flesh, and with its vast AUM sighing
through the sage, the sense of having been magnified, of having
knit back together some impossibly separated fragments, is what
remains of the experience. Somerset
Maugham once said: "The mystic sees the ineffable,
and the psychopathologist the unspeakable." One
assumes the two are experiencing the same event. To me, this
quote embodies the essential realization of Pluto, and contact
with the inexpressible, mercurial and yet eternal quality of the
unconscious.
In the living,
interactive energies of the unconscious, as in the hot spring, I
bathe in Pluto's realm with humility and primal attentiveness,
always aware of fathomless depths and magmatic fires beneath my
determined dog paddle. In the essential heat rising from
the depths, I know instinctively I have returned to the Source.
My intuition
rises, open and ready, like Arrector pili of the psyche.
Fear stalks me: the awareness of a body both vast and
intangible, which knows me fully, yet whose essence I can only
glimpse, like a melting mist. Still, after each immersion,
I find myself somehow enlarged, more fully aware of even the
most mundane events, as if operating from some new, higher level
of integration. My intellect may be scarcely the wiser,
but my being smiles, and knows it has partaken of a most
ancient and honorable psychological exploration for Truth and
healing, as a sincere romancer of the beautiful yet invisible
Soul.
Each immersion
honors that which cannot be understood rationally - - the
Darkness, that which is obscure. In the dark waters
we glimpse moving fragments of Shadow, of all that is
disenfranchised, dishonored and scapegoated. We are taken
to the limits of human possibility - - there to recognize that,
like the sink hole, the quest is bottomless.
Exploration of
Pluto's realm is facilitated by working with dreams, images,
fantasies, depressions and fears - - all ways in which the
unconscious reveals itself; by rituals which invoke the
oracular, mythological and alchemical.
With Plutonian eyes,
we can see how cultural events are messages from the
unconscious, and symptoms of deeper issues; how illness and
accident speak for the unconscious of desires, and needed
creative productions; how cultural expressions such as
architecture, art or music are underlain by truths that long to
be received, understood and acted upon.
Pluto tends the
integrity of the individuated Self, by countering a one-sided
Apollonian view, and makes possible the effecting of change and
transformation through contact with alternative, imaginative
realms. This in turn facilitates cultural individuation
which is both evolutionary and revolutionary. Most
importantly, this process is not reductionistic and limiting,
but ensouling and expansive.
With Pluto,
even the most finely-tuned, highly-educated intellect is but a
psychopomp, who leads the seeker to the borderline of an
uncharted world. Like the center of an alchemical
cauldron, or of the hot spring, there is a bubbling-up, in this
liminal place, of that-which-is-not-known. Here, the
intellect must lie down with a whimper, or turn back, leaving us
to attend that fearsome place without it.
Here the
psyche sheds its old skin; fingers shape a new form; the ear
hears a new musical phrase. Here dread and elation meet.
In tending Pluto as a great and arcane god, we nurture
that liminal place where the oracle murmurs and bubbles in the
alchemical stew, and visions form and shift like steam
across the boundaries of the worlds.
Making
Peace with the Darkness by Maureen Moss, PhD

Since the attacks on
America last September 11th there has been a resurgence
of the focus on light and love and peace. There has also been a
resurgence of efforts to banish the darkness, reflecting the
curious perspective that darkness can be done away with.
Supposedly this can be done through focusing on love and light,
and ignoring or denying darkness. Such thinking, while rather
amusing in children, is simplistic and almost frightening to see
in adults. It reflects a mind that has not yet integrated life experiences
with theory, and has perhaps chosen to follow a particular
theoretical or philosophical perspective without the benefit of
reality testing. Ignoring one’s life experiences can be
dangerous. Such an effort to ignore or banish darkness is self
defeating.
To begin with, darkness
is an inseparable part of light. Whether one follows the biblical,
scientific, or any other myth of creation, most all creation
stories tell us that life emerged out of the darkness. Stories of
creation also teach us that darkness and light follow each other,
as do night and day. Trying to separate light from darkness and
darkness from light is futile. The two are inseparable; the one
cannot exist without the other. All things in the world are made
up of yin and yang, darkness and light. This premise is stated in
diverse ways by religions throughout the world (Rietsma and
Karcher, 1995).
The ancients understood
this cyclical nature of all life and represented it with the
ancient symbol of wholeness, the yin-yang. The symbol of the
yin-yang, reproduced at the top of this page, shows the two
aspects of the circle, which itself represents wholeness, as
flowing into each other. Yin represents darkness, and yang
represents light. It is important to note that each side of the
symbol contains within it a part of the other, so that darkness
contains light, and light contains darkness. In other words, both
darkness and light contain within them the seed or essence of the
other. The one flows into and becomes the other.
From this understanding
one can see that the notion of ignoring or denying the darkness,
or the light, is impossible without obliterating the whole. Also,
when either darkness or light is ignored or denied, it actually
becomes reinforced and stronger. This is often expressed in the
statement “that which is denied comes back with a vengeance.”
This statement is substantiated by the traditions of physics and
metaphysics alike. Death follows birth in an apparently endless
cycle of life and death. Even if we wish to disregard metaphysical
and philosophical representations and interpretations, it is self
apparent that Nature and Life itself are cyclical. Death follows life follows death follows life. The forms
may change; the essence of the cyclical nature remains. The two
are inseparable. Despite humanity’s greatest efforts to separate
the two and to create immortality, immortality appears to be left
to the realm of the divine.
So what are human beings
to do? How can people avoid the darkness and the pain and
suffering it brings? Another question frequently asked is “what
is the value to be found in pain and suffering?” Much has been
written about this, and religious scholars throughout history have
pondered and put forth their answers to this question. But we
still come back to the unavoidable fact of the inseparable nature
of darkness and light.
What happens when we try
to ignore the darkness, to sweep it under the carpet so to speak?
When can act as if there is no darkness, or that darkness is not
part of our lives, it is still there, waiting to trip us. And trip
us it will, pulling us down into its depths. Anyone who has even
experienced inflation (and who hasn’t?) has also been given the
opportunity to experience deflation. Here, in the depths, we can
learn much about life. It is from the darkness that we learn about
the light.
The difficulties and
challenges we face offer us opportunities to go deeper into
life’s mysteries, to experience some of the depths of psyche, or
soul. In doing so, we also learn more about how life functions,
and more about our own inner strengths and weaknesses. Artists,
scientists, philosophers, visionaries, alchemists, and others who
delve into the mysteries of life all recognize and acknowledge
that it is from the darkness that light emerges. And that it is
from the challenges of the darkness that growth and understanding
emerge.
So what of this darkness,
this stuff that seems so threatening to our experience of
happiness, our sense of self, and our desires for immortality?
What can we do to not be victimized by darkness? How can we deal
with darkness and not be obliterated by it? Perhaps the answer
lies in accepting, even embracing, darkness. In so doing we can
become familiar with it and learn to live with it. Perhaps we can
even develop and use it as an ally.
One way we can become
more familiar with darkness is by attending to our sorrows and
suffering and learning from them. Trying to repress or deny what
are often called “negative experiences” or “negative
emotions” only serves to make them stronger and more present.
And then, we have to expend even more energy to suppress or deny
the darkness. A key to harnessing the power of the darkness is a
willingness to become familiar with it, befriend it, and thus to
tame it and contain it. The darkness can enrich and deepen life.
Depression, when not out of control, can enrich human experience.
The realm of Pluto, deity
of the underworld, is rich indeed. In fact, the name Pluto means
“riches” and is thought to refer to the one of the three
personages of the original trinity of Kore the Virgin, Pluto the
mother, and Persephone the Destroyer (Walker, 1983, p.804). The
transformation of Pluto, from a deity representing richness to a
deity representing darkness, corresponds with advent of
patriarchal dominance. Despite the negative associations with
darkness, it is still into the darkness we must go to find the
riches of the soul. We must descend into the depths of the
underworld.
This
descent to the underworld is the theme of many ancient and modern
myths of initiation. The ancient myth of Inanna, as presented in
Perera’s book Descent to the Goddess (1981), is one such
story. The goddess can be conceptualized to be female energy, or
the soul, since soul is considered to be feminine or yin in nature
(Reitsma and Karcher, 1995). Another work, by Jung (1969), cites
the Gnostic hymn to the soul. In this myth, “the son is sent
forth by his parents to seek a pearl that fell from the King’s
crown” (CW 9,1, para. 37). The
son has to plunge into the depths of the water, where he finds the
pearl on the very bottom.
Let’s pause for a
moment in our discussion of plutonian energies and darkness to
look at the symbols in this particular hymn, since they lend
themselves rather well to our discussion of the mutual embodiment
of darkness and light. First we will consider the pearl. The pearl
is an ancient symbol of lunar power and the power of the waters,
since the moon controlled the tides (Cooper, 1978; Walker, 1983).
The pearl also represents the life-giving power of the Great
Goddess. According to Walker “the ancients gave all pearls
feminine connotation, saying they were made of two female powers,
the moon and water” (1983, p. 780).
Next we consider that
both the pearl and water are embodiments of yin energy. Cooper
writes that “all waters are symbolic of the Great Mother and
associated with birth, the feminine principle, the universal womb,
the prima materia, the
waters of fertility and refreshment and the fountain of life”
(1978, p. 188). Jung (1969) states that “water is the commonest
symbol for the unconscious” (CW 9,1, para. 40). The
pearl, which throughout human history has been prized and sought
after for it luminous qualities, is found in the depths, in the
dark, watery world of the unconscious. And here in the depths is
where soul can be found.
These two myths, rich in
symbolism, reveal one of the central premises to be found in the
yin-yang symbol, namely, that the light, or the luminous, is to be
found in the darkness. In seeking to live rich, full, and balanced
lives, we are called upon to incorporate the yin and the yang, the
dark and the light, aspects of life. For one does not exist
without the other.
References
Cooper, J.C. (1978) An
Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols. London:
Thames and Hudson, Ltd..
Jung,
C.G. (1969). The
Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Collected
Works, vol. 9, 1. New York: Princeton University Press.
Perera, S. (1981). Descent
to the Goddess: A way of initiation for women. Toronto: Inner
City Books.
Ritsema, R. and Tarcher,
S., trans. (1995). I Ching:
The classic Chinese oracle of change. New York: Barnes and
Noble Books.
Walker, D. (1987). The
Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. New York:
HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.
Copyright Maureen Moss,
2001, all rights reserved
Dancing With Pluto
by Anonymous
When you dance with Pluto you had better
know all the steps. But that is what’s insidious. There is no
way to really know, until you get on the dance floor, what the
steps are. That’s when you find yourself, as the title of a book
says, Dancing as Fast as You Can.
Learning
how to live with Pluto is the biggest challenge anyone faces in
his or her life. A matter of Life and Death. The thought of
suicide is understandable. You see why people choose that
escape. The challenge is to know how to come out the other end
– how to know what you’re supposed to learn.
Those
brave enough to face the fight and find the stamina to find
their way through the intense drama and darkness, know there is
no going back to pre-Pluto days. Everything changes in a
profound way. It feels like being sucked down, an undertow, the
only glimmer of hope is when you gasp for air you know that if
you can get out of this there is something deeper to discover in
yourself. The depth of that self-discovery is as powerful as the
undertow. However, it is not easy because Pluto is demanding –
and can be unrelenting.
Personally
I think Pluto exists and enters the orbit of people who are
capable but at the same time paralyzed to realize their full
potential. Pluto can be conniving and manipulative. If you
succumb to the life changes all on Pluto’s terms, you loose
your power. That’s what Pluto is all about, power. And you
will always get seduced and pulled back when you weaken.
There
is no dance Pluto does not know…and no dance you can’t learn
yourself if you do the work. Only you can reveal what remains
untapped.
That’s
the assignment. Not only learn the dance but also dazzle Pluto
and yourself by inventing new steps. The only way to forge ahead
with your life is to stay productive, creative and honest. Pluto
will remain in your orbit but only as a catalyst for change.
It’s
a frightening journey because you can only rely on yourself and
it comes down to a choice. The choice is to let Pluto be
destructive or make it work for you as you transform your life.
It’s about transitioning to another level in your life and
knowing that each step is more powerful than the last.
You
end up dancing the Tango, the Jitterbug, the two-step and the
twist. Your dance partner never tires. But if you’re aware of
that, just when you think you’re too exhausted to go on and
you have to leave the dance floor, you discover, sometimes in
the nick of time, that you’re waltzing and you can breathe
again.
A Plutonic Affair -
An Evening with Pluto by Jessica
Pointon
I find the best way to understand archetypes is to experience them
and although I thought I knew what was meant by Pluto energy I
decided to give myself as physical an experience as possible. I
spent all day thinking about my evening, preparing myself, just
acknowledging that I would be welcoming Pluto into my house and
what I could do to make him feel welcome. On the way home I
bought a bottle of Noble wine (made from grapes already
fermenting on the vine) and some blue cheese.
Once
home I just focused on the ritual aspects of having a bath,
getting the towel ready, running the water etc. But this time I closed the blinds and didn’t turn on
the light. My eyes did get accustomed to the gloom fairly
quickly but still it was dark. The water in the tub was only
cold. All the while I sipped the wine and nibbled the cheese. Then, deep breath and into the cold water. It was
fabulous, in a strange way reassuring and welcoming. There was
nothing scary or unnatural, it was right. I stayed in the bath for about 10 minutes, pondering
away, trying not to control my thoughts but gently following
behind.
Very
consciously I got out and dried off. Moving into the other room,
I turned on the CD player to listen to Let
me fall. I thought: “I’ll just round this off, by
listening to the song once and then I’ll close the ceremony
and get on with the rest of the evening.” However, by the time
I sat down everything had got much slower, I just sat still,
feeling calm, cool and slow for three rounds of the music. I
just couldn’t move. It was a beautiful sensation.
The
rest of the evening was slow and sedate. A part of me was
feeling acknowledged. This gave me the strength a couple of days
later to burn some bridges and let the phoenix rise.
I
heartily recommend letting Pluto into your life and finding out
what makes him comfortable and happy. He is beautiful once one stops being frightened of him!
Blazing Spirit
by Kathleen Rauch
I used to have a cozy little retreat cabin
nestled into the forest on our hillside. The Spirit House overlooked the garden and the goat and
chicken pens. My
husband, Joe, built the little cabin for me so that I could
retreat from family life periodically without having to go too
far. We have two
young daughters, a cacophonous little homestead farm and a tiny
croft of a house. Sometimes
life in the house can be a bit close. Mostly I retreated to the Spirit House during my moon
time, honoring a woman’s tradition of retreating from family
life during the potent time of bleeding. Sometimes the Spirit House was used as a guest house.
On this particular night, Joe had planned
to take our daughters, Malika aged 8 and Lhasa aged 5 out to the
Spirit House. He
would get them to bed and then come back to our house to watch a
movie with me.
I finished the dishes while he went out to
light a fire in the Spirit House. Time dragged by and he had not
retrieved our daughters. They
took it upon themselves to carry out an array of stuffed animals
and bedding. Malika
managed her armload. Lhasa decided she needed the better portion
of her room to go with her. Although I was tired and wanted Joe to manage the event,
my heart broke open a bit to see Lhasa’s expectant face and
her choice of necessities. I transcended the desire to be irritated and instead dried my
hands and gathered up Lhasa’s stuffed animals and helped her
up the trail to the Spirit House.
I opened the door and Joe was sitting quite
comfortably in front of the fire. My ire raised a notch. I nagged a bit, wondering why he had not been more
forthcoming in helping the kids. He was in a subdued state. I was getting ready for a fight. In my natal chart reading with Laurence, earlier in the
year, I learned that my Mars is unaspected and that it falls in
the house of my home. I had spent a few months witnessing my anger in my home
life.
I noticed that the wall by the wood stove
was incredibly hot. We
had just installed new stove. I wondered if we had the right insulation. I
asked Joe about it. I
told him it didn’t feel right. He was in a stupor. He had worked physically hard during the frozen day. The heat had melted him. He told me the stove was fine and that the Spirit House
wouldn’t burn down. He explained how
the plaster held heat and so forth. I started to feel unheard, which is a trigger for my
anger. I noticed
the anger. I wanted
everybody to come back into the house. The angry part of my Self was so angry with Joe that I
nearly told him that if he wasn’t worried, he could sleep out
there for all I cared. I
chose to go into my heart and bring the barriers down. The anger vented through my body. I could feel the waves of intensity as my physical and
emotional bodies went through the experience. It was unfamiliar
territory to choose something other than anger.
We went to bed. The girls were disappointed. My anger subsided and Joe and I curled up together. At midnight, Malika climbed the ladder to our loft
bedroom to tell us that the Spirit House was burning down.
We went out. The building was ablaze in the dark of the night. Flames leapt out the door and the skylight. In Malika's subsequent drawings of the Spirit House on fire,
it looks likes like a little house with wings of fire returning
to the etheric realms.
The burning of the Spirit House felt like a
karmic debt. Something
had to burn. The
extent of the loss and suffering seemed negotiable. With the awareness afforded me through my spiritual
commitments, contemplative practices and the clarity from the
astrological reading, I was able to recognize a limitation
within my patterning in relationship to anger. The insights allowed me to make a choice. The choice
brought me into my heart.
The Spirit House burned to the ground. Only fragments remained. Our insurance company settled quite generously with us. We had a big clean-up party with many of our friends. The clean up was quick. Mostly we sat around the house
eating posole stew with the pork from one of our pigs,
celebrating life and the wealth of love and friendship with
which are blessed.
West Point
by Gary Newsom, MD
Iris Gaines: “You know, I believe we
have two lives.”
Roy Hobbs: “How? What do you mean?”
Iris Gaines: “The life we learn with
and the life we live after that.”
The Natural, 1984
I am nearing sixty. When I reflect back on
where I was at twenty, I cannot fathom that I was a soldier in
training at West Point. I am astounded mostly because of the
longing that developed much later. That longing was for peace in
my life, and as an extension, into the lives of others. How can
I reconcile what I believe now with what I thought I was before?
This has been a struggle; in the vernacular, it has been an
existential angst. Through it all the study of astrology has
helped a great deal. It has given me a bigger, neutral context
to my life. My inner drama continues to unfold according to a
larger order where both plot and characters evolve. I can see
the faces and feel the passion, despair, sensuousness, anger,
and hubris of the characters I have lived in my life. I am epic
in process and only now do I begin to understand the essence of
my entire natal chart’s story. I have tethered certain life
experiences and associated feelings to the concept of each
planet. I am only now able to understand where those old
experiences lead me. I now feel and grasp exactly what a planet,
or planetary alignment, meant in a particular period in my
history and in this way, I am seeking to reanimate my life. And
so, it is without regret, nor any desire to change what is, that
I can see my natal chart as metaphor, as the matrix of the
ever-changing drama that is me.
May I show you my Pluto?
“In my dreams I hear again the crash
of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of
the battlefield. But in the evening of my memory I come back to
West Point. Always there echoes and re-echoes: Duty, Honor,
Country. Today marks my final roll call with you. But I want you
to know that when I cross the river, my last conscious thoughts
will be of the Corps, and the Corps, and the Corps.”
Gen. Douglas MacArthur
I graduated from West Point in 1973. In the
twists and convulsions of my life since, there has always been a
feeling of intense devotion to the institution. It is not the
kind of vocal or monetary support that one typically associates
with an institution of higher learning. It is not the hubris
that is fostered by winning athletic contests. It is not even
the nostalgia that one might feel toward a place of
transformation. It is deeper.
I am now a million miles and scores of years
from the innocence of that naive man-child who arrived one
bright July morning to answer a calling. Through the grit and
grime of years as a paratrooper, the horror and bliss of long
tenure as a physician, the steamy and intense mystery of
husband, father and seeker, there is a part of my soul that
feels betrothed to some essence still emanating from West Point
itself. Like an amputee awakening from sleep years later to the
unfathomable pain of a limb long removed, or the longing of the
aged that is refreshed by a smell or sound that reminds of
something from childhood that is long dead, there is always,
always, this unspeakable knowing. Whether soldier or civilian,
father or son, husband or friend, within all these roles, there
is a sense of ongoing promise, of bondage.
I have searched for some analogy to better
define this vital part of my journey. In Dune, Frank Herbert’s
masterwork, I have found a world that well approaches my
understanding of my experiences with West Point. In Dune we find
the order of the Bene Gesserit, described in Wikipedia as “a
secretive sisterhood whose members train their bodies and minds
through years of physical and mental conditioning to obtain
powers and abilities that can easily seem magical to outsiders.”
This utter devotion to the corpus of the Order resonates with my
own experience. However, unlike the Bene Gesserit, where
novice’s had an early knowledge of what one was in service to,
the ubiquitous, but chthonic presence that was and is West Point
has for me, remained, until lately, a veiled, forever undefined
“It,” present, but unknown. There is a shadowy, malleable, yet
ever-sentient suchness at the center of my experience in those
four years on the banks of the Hudson River. Like all archetypal
forces that I have experienced, it can never be approached
intellectually, only lived. The longer I am alive, the deeper
the unfathomable nature of this “Presence” becomes. Perhaps some
examples can shine some light on what I speak of.
First, from earliest moment at West Point, I
felt embraced by the “Force.” It is no accident that beginning
with my long trek up the twisting drive from the Hotel Thayer to
my stepping off that bus as a new cadet, everything that first
day was choreographed to culminate in the dramatic swearing in
ceremony. Those family and friends that ate a farewell breakfast
with someone loved, watched in awe eight hours later: Marching
en mass before them was a sparkling, white shrouded, well shaven
group of virile would-be soldiers who, just that morning, had
appeared so young. Two meals removed from a former life, these
men-boys were led, en corps, to the amazing vista of the river
and a setting sun. I raised my hand and declared devotion. As it
reveals itself now, thirty-five years later, that was the great
wedding. With heart throbbing, I was forever betrothed and
forever committed to service. Little did I know what consort
was, nor could I even imagine the complexity of the “Force” that
I had been given to. And, looking back, I suspect that the
military officers who were responsible for this ritual were
themselves blinded by the power of the attendant “Mystery.” But,
that the period of the next eight weeks was named “Beast” at
least acknowledges that something large was afoot. It had to be
felt and not seen.
Second, it was when I took my oldest
daughter to see this place where I had come from that I sensed
that I was returning to an “Essence.” On the drive up from the
city that crystal clear morning, with the leaves a hundred
shades of fall, I knew that for me this was a homecoming. I now
know that the “Essence” wanted to see my daughter. But why? The
answer is simple: cadet or not, the precious being that was mine
carried the life blood which would course on a new wave in the
infinity of those resonant to the “Power.” That “Power” wanted a
first-hand view. Returning once more to the metaphors from Dune
and quoting once more from Wikipedia, Bene Gesserit in Latin and
by itself means “(s)he shall have behaved well.” Gesserit is a
form of the Latin verb gerere, whose meanings include to carry,
to wear, to manage, to bear (as in a child), to behave, or
simply to do. Thus the translation of Bene Gesserit is open to
wide interpretation. Among the possibilities are, it will have
done well, she will have borne well (a child) and he will have
behaved well. So now I see, that in service to, I returned for a
complete inspection by, and with hopes for a blessing from the
“Mystery.”
Third, it was when I took my father up the
river on a cold December day just 7 years ago, that I knew that
this was being orchestrated by the “Mystery,” perhaps to comfort
us both. In my studies of his astrological chart had seen an
upcoming movement of Chiron over his Immum Coeli, the bottom and
most profound place in his chart, and also the movement of Pluto
into his 12th house of endings. I took these as signs that we
may not have long together. In fact, that is the reason I came
to the city that Christmas. There was nothing logical about it.
But, some aspect of this “Mystery” wanted my father and I to
walk the snow covered path from the Hotel Thayer to the Area, up
the stairs to the Cadet Chapel, and meander back to the lower
plain alongside Michie Reservoir. During that walk we said the
things that father and son bear to one another only in times of
unction. Driving back in the car that late and cold winter day,
I saw my father sleep in peace. We had tended to each other in
the presence of the “Mystery,” and it was a good thing. When he
died from a gunshot wound to the head several months later, I
could only be grateful for the gift that had been given… at West
Point.
Carl Jung said that, “Wisdom is knowing in
depth the great metaphor of meaning.” The shaping that my
astrological studies have done with me are vital to knowing the
meaning of my life. Astrology provides a matrix from which I can
see and be seen. The tensions and fugues are the ephemeral
seeking form in my here and now. The infinite possibilities
collect, express, and dissipate. Systole, and diastole…forever.
Recently, it was Laurence Hillman’s
description of the archetypes operant within this eternal
cauldron that allowed me to see the outline of the sacred
expressions that suffuse my life. I cannot look upon the faces
of the gods, for I am mortal, but the images that he brings
through, allow me to approach in humility. And, late one night,
with Laurence as the conductor, I took a ride to the destination
that archetypal astrology can lead to. At the station, I was met
by myself. I came home. With this homecoming, there is a new
understanding of what the West Point drama is all about for me.
At the center, of all that was and is of this psychological
journey up the Hudson, lies the dark, shadowy, seething,
ever-creating and -destroying feminine aspect of Pluto:
elemental, powerful and intense.
The astrologer Richard Tarnas has said this
about Pluto: “It empowers whatever it touches, sometimes to
overwhelming and catastrophic extremes; with the primordial
instincts, libidinal and aggressive, destructive, and
regenerative, volcanic and cathartic, eliminative,
transformative, ever-evolving; with the biological processes of
birth, sex, and death. It is the dark, mysterious, taboo, and
often terrifying reality that lurks beneath the surface of
things. It is associated with all myths of descent and
transformation.”
I have been given vision. I can now see, and
I can now begin to reconcile what I have been bonded in service
to. Much later I begin to understand why, while I was at West
Point, there was an odd and predictable daily occurrence. For
four long years, each and every day, at exactly 4:00 PM, a long
line of dark cars drifted up the same road that had
brought me here that first day. This was always a vanguard, a
family, carrying a son or husband to the cemetery . Framed by a
river and the setting sun, hauntingly similar to that scene at
my swearing in so long ago, a lifeless, warrior body was slipped
into the bowels of the earth. And, taps, that whaling, precious
signet of the Mistress Pluto, was played... as epitaph.
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