The Playful Astrologer

Kim Farley

© Kim Farley - published by The Astrological Journal, 2024 / The Astrological Association of Great Britain / 05.09.2024

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Allegories and myths are stories that help us to understand what it is to be human. Imagination is a playful kind of story making. We can use story to address the chart, to weave and create living interpretations to offer our clients images of possibility.

As Keats wrote: “I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections and the truth of imagination”.This quote has always inspired me, in tandem with Keats’s idea of “negative capability” which he defined in a letter to his brothers as “being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.”

As astrologers, we are adept at working with symbols. And symbols are deeply soulful – the very opposite of inanimate – so they are not cut and dried. They have a particular kind of aliveness that can speak to us on many levels. In the ‘truth’ of imagination, we have a way of exploring the chart that is both open and creative.

If we set out to try and formulate our ideas too literally, we run the risk of limiting our art, ourselves and our clients. Instead, we can choose to give ourselves willingly and playfully to narratives suggested by the full interplay of planets and signs, houses and rulerships. We can allow symbols the time and space in which to offer their meaning, and thereby discover a way of consulting which enhances our own world and honours the people who come to see us.

Stuck and narrow?

As practitioners we can sometimes become a little stuck or narrow in our interpretation. We’re human and therefore naturally imperfect. Imagination is above all playful and free. It’s a word which of course reminds us of Neptune, and I thought a lot about Neptune, how it can help or hinder, when writing this. The Neptune that helps us is the one that might allow and encourage us to dissolve the rigid edges of our thinking, to be open. This is the Neptune that sparks empathy and compassion for our clients and considers kindness and sensitivity as important as truth.

The truth of imagination is a subtle thing. It reminds us to acknowledge that when we come to gaze at another’s chart, we don’t really know anything for a fact. When we are willing to let go of grasping for solid answers, we can release ourselves to listen to the questions and engage instead with mystery and possibility. We can also find ourselves within the searching, walking lightly alongside our clients, shoulder to shoulder with curiosity and interest, rather than trying to inhabit the dubious role of the one true guide.

When mythic traveller Odysseus set sail over a sea of sirens, he was alert to the danger of being seduced and indeed he lashed himself to the mast to thwart the urge to hurl himself into the water as they sang. In our own journeys, we don’t need literal ropes, but like Odysseus, we can perhaps fend off our own siren songs by staying tied to Saturnian masts such as discipline and a diligent humility.

The truth of imagination is a subtle thing. It reminds us to acknowledge that when we come to gaze at another’s chart, we don’t really know anything for a fact

The Neptune that will almost certainly hinder us is the one that deludes us into thinking we have all the answers, hold all the cards and know everything. This Neptune also seduces and undermines us with illusions of perfection and fantasies of power. Our clients may collude with this and project some kind of magical aura onto us, which we would do well to gently dispel, since it does nobody any service. The paradox here is of course that sometimes, if we stay with the truth of imagination, something close to magic does seem to occur. We are not the source, but we can be a conduit.

So, let’s not throw the divine baby out with the deluded bathwater – we do have real need of Neptune. If we worked only under Saturn’s yoke, our consultations would risk being dry and dusty, lifeless things. Neptune allows us to turn to the wellspring that flows inside of us, endlessly regenerating, always accessible, alive and eternal – our imagination.

What do you see when you look at a chart? Do you see facts? Concrete events and literal manifestations? Sometimes it seems like there’s a lot of this in our thinking. But the client is surely already in possession of the facts of their life, so they are not coming to us to illuminate this area! I think of facts as a kind of ground floor – solid enough, one hopes, but without a view. If we stay on the ground floor of literalism we don’t get to see very much. And we don’t feel the uplift when our hearts and minds are allowed the bigger picture, the sense of the limitless sky. If we approach interpretation in terms of possibility, we can engage with the richest potential of the chart.

Consider the butterfly

Imagination, of course, comes from the word image, meaning to picture something and it’s the same root for the word imago, which refers to the final adult stage of an insect, such as a butterfly. It’s interesting how imagination and butterflies are so closely tied, in myth, and language.

The butterfly has long been honoured as an archetype of transformation, offering as it does a living message of impressive metamorphosis, from egg to caterpillar, to chrysalis or cocoon and from there to the eventual unfolding of the adult butterfly. It’s an incredible process. Imagine the whole of your life changing to such an extent that you are utterly unrecognisable at the final transition. For the caterpillar it is the end of the world, but for the imago it is the beginning.

In Greek, of course, ‘Psyche’ means both butterfly and soul. Along with the Greeks, links between soul and butterfly were also recognised by the Aztecs and other ancient cultures in parts of Africa, Central Asia and New Zealand.

The myth of Psyche-Soul contains an important message about not trying to look too directly, to allow the shadows and the darkness and the not knowing. Illuminating as it may be, rational knowledge – as employed by Psyche in breaking the injunction to look upon the face of her lover – leads directly to loss. The oil drips from her lamp as she bends over sleeping Eros and he is startled awake and flees. We could read this part of the myth as telling us that satisfying curiosity with knowledge doesn’t always bring the gain or happiness for which we are searching.

Abandoned and alone, Psyche is punished by spending time wandering, forced to perform seemingly impossible tasks. Soul that grasps only for facts suffers, seems to be the message. Another chalk up for Keats’s negative capability and the value it places of staying with not knowing.

Interesting again to ponder that the signs ruled by Jupiter – Sagittarius and Pisces – deal variously with exploration and mystery. And each is considered antithetical to the nature of Mercury, just as Mercury’s signs are not seen as happy placements for Jupiter. But between them we have the mutable cross itself. Fluid, changeable, open, willing. Metamorphosis of course comes from the same root as mutable.

Psyche’s myth also contains a message of hope. It suggests that at our lowest ebb and in our most challenged moments, help is at hand. Psyche may have been set impossible tasks, but she also receives abundant magical assistance. And in the end, thanks to the intercession of Jupiter, Psyche and Eros are ultimately united. At this point Mercury-Hermes is in the service of Jupiter, tasked with convening an assembly of gods. So, we have a reminder that understanding, wisdom and meaning – Jupiter – are governing principles and that working simply with facts and information is not enough. When Eros and Psyche are brought together, we have harmony and pleasure.

If we stay with the truth of imagination, something close to magic does seem to occur

In ‘Ode to Psyche’ by Keats, we find the lines: “And in the midst of this wide quietness/A rosy sanctuary will I dress/With the wreath'd trellis of a working brain.”I love the images here – wide quietness, rosy sanctuary, and how the working brain can be a decked trellis! Imagination is inherently playful, spontaneous and unrestricted. It’s a soulful way of living and soul thrives on images. Or as James Hillman puts it: “Phenomena come alive and carry soul through our imaginative fantasies about them”.

The “wide quietness” is an essential context for all of this, somehow. How can we be alive to imagination unless we are stilled, reflective, receptive? If you are reading this and thinking “Well, people don’t see me as imaginative” then perhaps consider that Walt Disney was told exactly this early on in his career – that might bring some amused comfort.

Stories as truths about the human condition

Allegories and myths are stories that help us to understand what it is to be human. Imagination is a playful kind of story making. We can use story to address the chart, to weave and create living interpretations to offer our clients images of possibility. We can gather words and images to describe all the astrology colouring our mind’s eye. As an example, and to move from theory into application, here are some playful stories offered in relation to lunar aspects. When we find the Moon in aspect to another planet what sort of tales might we tell?

For me, Moon/Mercury tells stories of telling stories. Of listening and hearing and translating and connecting. Of linking to the past. Of sisters and brothers and mothers and others and the words that pass between them. The need to communicate. To be heard. To speak and write and find out what you feel by hearing yourself think it. To tell the tale. Moon/Mercury stories are about finding words for feelings, about finding feelings within words. About putting soul into mind. Sympathy, empathy and sensitivity around what we say and how we say it. The need to learn and the need to tell. The mother as teacher, the family as school, the nourishment of ideas and of education. Being hungry to know. Staying in touch. Verbalising what’s inside. Thinking about and interpreting the past. Memory as scribe. Pen as conduit. Emotional expression and fact-finding through feelings. Being curious about people. Write the postcard. Pick up the phone. Send the email, the text. Leave the note. Ask the question. Because we need to connect.

Moon/Venus tells stories of sweetness and gentleness and maybe something a little sticky and soft. Something tender and pliable. The need to love and be loved. The beauty of feelings and the feeling of beauty. The goddess in all of us. The instinctive feminine. The values of our tribe and the honey of homecoming. Being fed and being happy. The history of art and the art of history. Rose-tinted rose-scented nostalgia. Quilts and keepsakes and family heirlooms. Pictures on the fridge. The dress your mother wore. The picnic blanket and the sewing basket. The baby’s shawl, the decorations on the mantelpiece. Hearth and comfort, cushions and cutlery. The mothers who appreciate beauty, the women who love us like their own. Wearing vintage garments, flowing silks, velvet and lace and silver jewellery. Valuing your home and its many layers. Emotional tenderness, soft feelings. The beauty of belonging.

Moon/Mars tells action-packed stories of strength and courage. Of packing your bags and chasing the action. Tales of battle and boldness and bravery. The challenge of feeling and the need to fight. The instinct to protect and defend and hold close the sheltering shield. Hot, sharp and strong, a warrior on the home front, a shotgun wedding, a rattle of pots and pans. The cyclical battle and the ebb and flow of energy. The Mother whose protection may be heated and edged. Knives out and responses that cut to the quick. Moon/Mars says do it, go for it, get it, hurry up, faster. Take what you need while you can still grab it. Run. Be sharper, keener, more daring. Habitually competitive, sensitive to violence and yet needing to rage, Moon/Mars stories tell of safety and danger hand-in-hand. Of being familiar with anger or angry with your family. Leaping to defend those close, tenderness and heat combined. Steamy situations and hot bloodedness.

Moon/Jupiter tells stories of wanderlust and adventure, far-flung families and parent as panorama. The past as a foreign country. Mother as traveller, teacher, nomad. Needing to broaden horizons, to quest and seek and search and roam. Discovering the bigger picture, feeding the five thousand, feelings and faith combined. Philosophies of support and stories of exotica. Inspiration, education and the need for encouragement. Habits of generosity, lots of emotion, always hungry for the moveable feast. Giving is better than receiving and there is always enough, always more where that came from, come in, get comfortable, get fed and filled and tell us what happened on the journey. Huge feelings and instinctive optimism. Nostalgia for the light. Travelling hopefully, vagabonds and vagaries, tribes and temples. Needing to believe and to grow. Protection and promotion and patterns of positivity. Finding your home in the big wide world and being nurtured by meaning, by symbol, by faith. A gypsy spirit and a glass being constantly filled.

How can we be alive to imagination unless we are stilled, reflective, receptive?

Moon/Saturn stories are as old as time, each step struck from stone and still standing up to every test. Hammered and hewn and held tight enough to keep it all in, keep going, keep caring. Strong walls and strong women, mother as framework, bone deep. Home foundations, gates and locks and fortifications. Stories of responsibility, of duty, clear and cold and called to account. Feeling the limits of things, time and again, the lessons of the past. Mother as rock and hard place, mother as solid matter, mater who matters, a serious home front. Holding the child within frozen in place, home alone, taking care of yourself. Carrying the weight, living with gravity. Learning to shoulder the load, turn lead into gold. Strongholds and safe rooms, cold storage and conditioning. Forging your own links, a chain of command and control. Hunger for approval and a hard act to follow. You belong to yourself and have everything you need. You are enough and you are self-sufficient. Let yourself feel held.

Moon/Chiron tells maverick stories of bridges from one world to the next, Old to New, earthly to divine, reconnecting with nature and cosmos, healing the ancient split. Stories that begin with abandonment and end with acceptance. Going your own way, doing the impossible, training the hero in you up and out, allowing the pain because it heals and forges you. Feeling the resonance of painful repetition and chronic chronicles but holding the secret that you are not defined by what is broken or damaged. Mother as mentor as healer as teacher as wise woman who helped you understand the struggle to end the struggle – it is endless until you realise gratitude is the key that can release you. And you were free all along. The need for conscious awareness and the sensitivity to understand that hidden in the pain is the gift. There is no alternative, you are the alternative, alternating the currents of compassion and crisis. Wild wounds and the wonder of wisdom.

Moon/Uranus stories break up and break off. Groundbreaking breakthroughs, uproar and uproot. Up yours tradition, no rules, no limits, no boundary uncrossed. Feeling different. Sky gods and open houses freedom and space. A room of your own and enough room to breathe. Excitable emotions and buzzing live wires. Boldly going wild women, mother as truth as rebel as revolution, evolution. Needing progress and paradox and Pandora’s box wide open. Overturning, overthrowing; stories of shocks to the system, of apple carts upset and baby out with bathwater. The need to surprise. Honesty and intransigence, ever-changing, unyielding, barricade-manning upstarts with lightning responses and flashes of genius. Shorn of comfort, shouting the odds, troubleshooting troublemakers, ragged trousered rabble-rousers. Standing up and standing out, blowing the whistle and raising a riot. Not playing safe. Unusual feelings and feeling unusual. Eccentric, eclectic, electric.

Moon/Neptune dreams stories of loss and longing. Of being all at sea or shrouded in mist, clouded and drowsy and afloat on waves of imagination. Stories of missing and yearning and learning to yield and surrender to the endless soul journey. To open to the eternal. The need to offer up a sacrifice, the need to redeem, to save and to rescue or be rescued, swept up and swept away. Dragons and princesses. Mother as saint or martyr. Mother as inspiration, prayer, beautiful mirage. The need to be protean, to shift and merge and fuse and dissolve. Being boundless. Stories of tides and flow, of evaporating in rapture then condensing and coming down again in a new rain. The habit of compassion, of charity and unconditional caring. The need to be perfected and the wound of being human. Disappointment, pity or regret held in the body and nursed and healed. Redemption and release and the peace that comes from truly letting go.

Moon/Pluto weaves web-like stories in the dark, dense and tense, and able to hold on tight through the toughest storm. Stories of abduction and transition, delving down and mining the seams of underground feelings, bringing up sources of power and precious jewels. Diving into the deeps and thriving on life and death situations. Tunnelling and burrowing and burying and unearthing until nothing is left unturned, unchanged. Mother as force of nature, underworld goddess, tormented transformer, tough as old boots but not as comfortable. Emotions which live in the shadows and hold a world of creative force. Feelings which split the atom. Needing all or nothing and never giving in or giving up or giving yourself an easy ride. Habits of magic and mystery, enigma codes of emotion which demand deciphering. Cryptic responses and overwhelming needs, midwives to the soul. Survival and regeneration, recycling the past, reclaiming its carbon and pressing it into diamonds.

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Butterfly images:

1. Aarn Giri, unsplash.com
2. Scott Longerbeam, unsplash.com
3. Boris Smokrovic, unsplash.com
4. Alfred Schrock, unsplash.com
5. Thierry Chabot, unsplash.com
6. Joshua J. Cotten, unsplash.com
7. Sagar Kulkarni, unsplash.com

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Author: Kim Farley

Kim Farley discovered astrology at the end of the 1980s and since then it has enhanced her life in countless ways. She has tutored generations of students over more than 30 years in London classes and internationally. A contributor to the volumes Journey Through Astrology and The Book of Music Horoscopes, she’s also the author of the booklet Astro Mind Maps and has been previously published in The Mountain Astrologer and The Astrological Journal. Describing her own approach to the art as the practice of applied imagination, she consults from home as well as worldwide online, and continues to teach with her independent school Asteria as well as for the LSA and Astrology University. Kim lives in central London with her beloved and is also a vegan cook, poet and funeral celebrant. Website: asteria-teaching.com.