Hudson Valley Astrologer

Prologue

My last post introduced readers to one of the most remarkable astrological stories ever written. There is something astonishing and prescient about the story that describes an extraordinary breakthrough for humanity. The year was 1970, the world needed a new myth, a new story to live by that could change the narrative as it were, and by the time 1998 rolled around the world expressed more than an inkling of readiness. The “remarkable story” was not ahead of its time, which is to say that it is a story for the ages, but it did foreshadow the adventures of Harry Potter for 27 years even though it did not take the world by storm in quite the same way. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, originally called the Philosopher’s Stone when it was first published in 1997, was picked up by Scholastics for wider distribution on September 1, 1998. As it happens, there are always antecedents for big social movements. Seeds get planted but take time to grow. The real story, our “remarkable story,” as determined by the genuine article from 1970, represents the real Philosopher’s Stone, and occurred precisely in 1926, and then again in 1998, which just so happened to coincide with Harry Potter mania, and the real story clicking into a higher gear. At this time, 1998, the Precession of the Equinox ticked into the tri̇ṁs̍ãṁsa of Gemini, the sign of storytellers, writers, language, communication, and change. Gemini also represents youthfulness, and it was here that the young adult books category took off!

The Harry Potter series promoted reading to an entire generation much more successfully than anyone expected, but also introduced the egalitarian idea of how an ordinary everyday person, without the “proper” heritage, might still discover their own identity, who they really are in the face of impossible life entanglements, and accomplish extraordinary things. Interestingly, Harry Potter has been dubbed the “Wizard of Oz for a new generation,” but Dorothy finds herself lost and unable to find her way “home” without Glinda’s advice, the good witch, who tells young Dorothy to click her heels together three times and repeat, “there’s no place like home,” Harry on the other hand, leaves “home” for wizarding school. Like Dorothy, he passes many trials and elaborate rites of passage only to discover that he holds the power of real magic not in his shoes but in the wand, he holds in his hand. There is something passive about Dorothy’s adventure as compared to Harry’s active participation in his learning experience. The flow of time has moved from the tri̇ṁs̍ãṁsa of Pisces near the very end of the previous Age of Pisces (L. Frank Baum wrote The Wizard of Oz in 1900), to the tri̇ṁs̍ãṁsa of Gemini, at the second degree of the present Age of Aquarius. The tri̇ṁs̍ãṁsa of Cancer happens to be the first degree of the Age of Aquarius by Precession. Pisces rules the feet, Gemini rules the hands, and Cancer rules the home, we just can’t make these correspondences up. By this example, borrowed from children’s literature, imagine an upgraded Peter Pan tale, or imagine a story written by Carlos Casteneda for kids, only with a Disney twist, we recognize the time was ripe for a “new wizard” story. What a fun and curious way to discover where we are on the circle.

This new understanding of the flow of time partly explains the explosion of interest and reemergence of old works like the Picatrix, as the millennial generation obsessed with Harry Potter now comes of age and becomes obsessed with ‘real‘ magic. Time itself holds the key as revealed in each degree of the zodiac, where the flow of time resides for 72 years before clicking off and into the next degree measured by the Precession. A zodiacal Age equals 2,160 years and if we divide the age by thirty, the number of degrees in a sign, we arrive at 72 years as the length of time required to traverse one degree. Each individual degree is called a tri̇ṁs̍ãṁsa, and as referenced above, the Age of Aquarius began with the tri̇ṁs̍ãṁsa in Cancer in 1926, the sign corresponding to home. The sign of Cancer designates the keynote of the Age which according to Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet corresponds to SECURITY. 72 years later, in 1998, the time flow of the Precession moved into the individual degree of Gemini. The movement will remain in Gemini until 2070 before entering Taurus but until then, buckle up and strap yourself in because the ride will be intense during the present unraveling, encompassing the remaining time in Gemini. The mutable flow of time represents a dissipation and dissolution of energy, the Guna of destruction in Indian philosophy, which clears the way for new growth at the next cardinal sign according to the Cosmic Clock (note: tracing the precession follows a reversal from the normal order of Solar progression through the zodiac). 4 years after the publication of her “remarkable story,” The Magical Carousel, Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet published The Gnostic Circle. These books together illuminate a new story of creation, a depiction of a new understanding about the full potential for a lived experience on Earth, as Gnostic Beings. This new understanding reveals the power behind the power in hand, and this power describes a new ability To See, guided by a tool designed for this purpose. TMC is more explicit about the new powers emerging in creation, and goes beyond the metaphysical teachings of Castaneda, but not at all fantastical, or as compared to Harry and his sidekicks, not at all full-on fantasy. The breakthrough only alluded to in popular works of fiction is realized in Patrizia’s work where she pierces the veil of illusion to unmask Truth.

Thea (Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet) introduced a tool she called The Gnostic Circle in a book by the same name, which was published 3 years before James Holden published Ancient House Division, later rebranded as “Whole Sign Houses.” I mention Holden because his approach is distinctly different from that of a Seer. Scholars tend to cling to the past to understand the future, looking backward as it were, as opposed to SEEING, by applying a Seer’s illuminating power of Knowledge, and envisioning the way forward with understanding. The Gnostic Circle is not a whole sign house system, however. Patrizia’s work is unconcerned with such superficialities and more concerned about where astrology is going, not where it has been.

Fascinating, how at the outset of the story in The Magical Carousel, readers are invited into a tale that is as real “as children know the imaginary to be.” (p.4) But unlike religious admonishments this tale is not a call to the faithful to believe or intended as a meal ticket to the kingdom of heaven. Although I know better than to compare this “new myth” to a popular fairy tale like Harry Potter, or J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan, the line about children and imagination did remind me of the Peter Pan tale. Also, the Power of Knowledge draws one’s attention to Hogwarts, an ironic reference to “swine,” or “pigs.” The significance of the Pig, or Wild Boar, can be checked out in my post The Church and Me where I discuss the sign of Gemini and thereby the Age of Gemini being ruled by the pig, an exceedingly smart and curious animal. The Age of Gemini was the scene of a dual between two powerful druids, or magicians, each trying to prove their superiority. Most traditional mythologies aggrandize belief, and Barrie captures this sentiment well where he wrote, “In time they could not even fly after their hats. Want of practice, they called it; but what it really meant was that they no longer believed.” ² The Magical Carousel on the other hand is not about belief, it is about acting according to a new nature, the “act of seeing.” Until this realization is achieved, anything else is tantamount to putting wings on a pig.

The Magical Carousel introduces readers to two main characters, the children, plus a set of parents as well as grandparents. There are four “adults” in all, and a rocket ship named Fritz-18. The rocket belongs to the “family” and preparations are underway for a trip to Saturn. But then the “adults” lose control, distracted by mundane things, leaving the rocket to its own devices and to realize it’s “most fervent wish,” which is to course correct and fly toward the Sun. Another character by the name of “Glow” is mentioned near the end of the prologue. Readers sense that matters unfold in some way that seems fated, along with a sense of responsibility, or duty, inherited through the familial line to meet one’s fate. But at the same time, within the twists and turns of the plot, there are also certain pivotal decisions to be made.

The story describes a change in direction away from the original course meant to travel from Earth to Saturn, and to instead follow the Cosmic Compass that charts a course directly into the Sun. The move is sudden and comes as a shock to our protagonists’ duo, Val and Pom Pom, the main characters in the play. While they express startlement, their surprise indicates that they are not yet in charge of piloting their own journey. Analogously, we recognize how so much of what draws new adherents to Astrology exemplifies this superficial attitude, that something or someone else is driving the ship, and so society remains obsessed with an atavistic addiction to monthly Astrology forecasts and predictions. But that for Fritz, a new perspective becomes possible, and “every rocket’s most fervent wish is to gain control of a flight and then direct itself to the Sun.” Fritz does take over the controls, re-aims the rocket, and hurdles toward the Sun. Thea makes clear a little later in the commentaries that the rocket ship represents an individual’s vahana, a new vehicle for a new age, but Val not knowing this yet, makes emergency preparations by putting herself and PomPom in protective gear. Then, after a few days pass the rocket makes sounds of “joy” before making a “final leap into the resplendent blaze…”  Val and PomPom brace for a rough landing or worse because they have not yet learned to trust their instrument.

Curiously, they discover a beautiful purplish and violet smoke that mysteriously envelops them and their whole situation. Instead of crashing into the Sun, Fritz is suspended as if dangling from a string without any obvious connection to the thing upholding the string. What was previously sensed as fate and destiny now feels more like support, an active power that although hidden nonetheless upholds the “string” upon which Fritz is dangling.

Interestingly, the passengers are saddened to leave the rocket but also seem aware that the rocket was only doing the necessary thing, the thing that “any rocket would do if man were to lose control.” The story shifts from one state to another in an instant, and the passengers are not sure what to do, so far from “home.” There is an incredible amount of uncertainty building about what could happen next, as any human is want of knowing. What to do? What will happen if I do? What will happen if I don’t? Since we are at a nascent stage of development in the story the suggestion here is that a response to uncertainty is simply how human beings are wired to respond, and that our reactions are in effect habitual instinct. This old wiring is what in part draws our reaction to resolving our anxiety related to uncertainty using traditional means, represented by the original destination of the rocket, Saturn.

On the Sun the character “Glow” suddenly appears, and Val and PomPom learned that when they “willed” themselves to know more about “Glow,” they discover a new power they hadn’t ever known before. They will themselves to be in a place, and just like that it happens. They also learned that they had no need for protective gear. With this newfound power their fear about an uncertain future subsides.

The way “Glow” communicates grabs the children’s attention, but the readers too. Just like the string suspending Fritz, the power of communication coming from “Glow” is also mysterious. The communication comes from “within” the bodies of the passengers themselves, as “Glow” surrounds them.

In a day and age where rules are the flavor du jour of the righteous, for example, “those high in conscientiousness” and who proclaim possession of a secret sauce or formula, no such formula exists in the new mythology. The righteous claim to have distilled all of life’s answers down to a few short commandments, or rules for life if you like, but in The Magical Carousel there is only one rule to follow: “follow the Sun as it leaves each land and stay not a day longer, for it is the Sun who gives you your light and it is he you must follow.”

Following this comment is a wondrous description of a yogic concentration accompanied by a chant of OM, or some other song. Vibrations erupt in a way that depict an Aquarian “shattering” that leads to a “spiritual” silence, and a set of keys on a ring emerge with the expressed implication that a new journey has begun. We are at the start of a new path, which will lead to The New Way.

All quotes in this post reference The Magical Carousel by Patrizia Norelli-Bachelet.¹ I cannot recommend this book enough to “kids of all ages.” And especially to parents who want to introduce their children to Astrology while at the same time learning and exploring a next level Astrology incomparable to anything you may have read or studied in the past.

footnote

¹ Norelli-Bachelet, P. (2017). The Magical Carousel and Commentaries: A Zodiacal Odyssey (2017th ed.). Notion Press, Inc.

² Barrie, J. M. (1993). Peter Pan. Wordsworth Editions.