Ariel Harper Nave, Astrologer

*Many of you who are sharp and have been following this site over time probably know that it was hacked, horribly, over the course of the summer, 2012.  I am still rebuilding it, with the help of Josh Leutze, Developer Extraordinaire; so please accept this (this valid) bibliography.

This is a personal (and partial) list, arranged only alphabetically.  It is no accident that many of these titles hail from the 1970s:  it was a period of astrological renaissance; and not at all coincidentally I began learning astrology at that time.  There are many other fine tomes out there; but these have been and continue to be MY inspiration.

 

• Busteed, Marilyn; Tiffany, Richard; and Wergin, Dorothy, Phases of the Moon: A Guide to Evolving Human Nature, Shambhala: Berkeley. 1974

• Carter, Charles E.O., The Principles of Astrology, 1925

• Carter, Charles E.O., An Introduction to Political Astrology, 1951

• Davison, Ronald, Synastry: Understanding Human Relations through Astrology, ASI Publications: New York.  1978

• Dodson, Carolyn R., Horoscopes of the US States & Cities, ACS: Pelham. 1975

• George, Demetra, and Bloch, Douglas, Asteroid Goddesses: The Mythology, Psychology, and Astrology of the Re-Emerging Feminine, 2003

• Goodman, Linda, Sun Signs, Mass Market Paperbacks: 1985 (originally published 1968)

• Green, Jeff, Pluto: The Evolutionary Journey of the Soul, Llewellyn: St. Paul.  1985

• Greene, Liz, Saturn: A New Look at an Old Devil, Weiser: New York. 1976

• Hand, Robert, Planets in Composite: Analyzing Human Relationships, Para Research: Rockport.  1975

• Hand, Robert, Planets in Transit: Life Cycles for Living, Para Research:  West Chester.  1976

• Hone, Margaret E., Applied Astrology: A Companion to The Modern Textbook of Astrology, Fowler: London.  1974

• Hone, Margaret, E., The Modern Textbook of Astrology, Fowler: London.  1973

• Jansky, Robert Carl, Interpreting the Eclipses, ACS: San Diego.  1979

• Jansky, Robert Carl, Astrology Nutrition & Health, Para Research: West Chester.  1977

• Michelsen, Neil F., The American Ephemeris for the 20^th Century 1900 to 2000 at Midnight (Revised Edition), ACS: San Diego.  1988

• Michelsen, Neil F., and Pottenger, Rique, The American Ephemeris for the 21^st Century 2001 to 2050 at Midnight (Revised Second Edition), ACS: San Diego.  1992

• Michelsen, Neil F., and Potenger, Rique, The Asteroid Ephemeris 1900 to 2050, Including Chiron and the Black Moon Lilith, ACS: San Diego.  1999

• Parker, Derek, and Parker, Julia, The Compleat Astrologer, McGraw-Hill: New York. 1971

• Penfield, Marc, Bon Voyage: An Astrological Study of Relocation, AFA: Tempe.  1992

• Reinhart, Melanie, Chiron and the Healing Journey, Penguin: London.  1998

• Rudhyar, Dane, An Astrological Mandala: The Cycle of Transformations and its 360 Degrees, Vintage: New York. 1974

• Rudhyar, Dane, The Astrology of America’s Destiny, Random House: New York. 1974

• Rudhyar, Dane, The Astrology of Personality: A Reformulation of Astrological Concepts and Ideals, in Terms of Contemporary Psychology and Philosophy, Lucis: New York. 1936

• Rudhyar, Dane, The Practice of Astrology as a Technique in
  Human Understanding, Penguin Books: New York. 1970

• Sakoian, Frances, and Acker, Louis, The Astrologer’s Handbook, Harper & Row: New York.  1973

• Shea, Mary Fortier, Planets in Solar Returns: Yearly Cycles of Transformation and Growth (Revised Edition) Twin Stars: Clinton.  1998

 

IF you read these, you will learn a great deal about astrology; and, likely, yourself.  Enjoy!

“It’s fun to have fun, but you have to know how.”  The Cat in the Hat (a.k.a. Dr. Seuss, a.k.a. Theodor Geisel) said that in 1957; and it’s as true now as it was then.  Knowing how begets confidence in one’s place in the world, which leaves room for more light-hearted amusements.  And Pluto—that most heavy-handed of planets–is about to move to 6• Capricorn, which is about LEARNING how.

Now Pluto has been here twice before, recently: it brushed through in December and January, setting the scene for the first parts of Arab Spring; after turning retrograde in April, it went back over this degree during the tumultuous events in Libya (now apparently in the mopping-up stage, since going direct on September 16th).  And now it’s back again.

The Sabian Symbol for 6• Capricorn is ”Ten logs lie under an archway leading to darker woods.”  According to Dane Rudhyar, the idea expressed is one of completion: the logs have to be moved before one can get through the archway to the woods.  This is what’s up: this is the next hurdle.  There is a task to fulfill before one can move on.

So what needs to happen before we can move on?  Pluto is in Capricorn, which rules governments and economies.  In political circles, there are bills to pass and measures to be taken; there are candidates to choose and priorities to set.  Similarly in financial circles, there are markets to stabilize and reinvigorate.  Pluto overhauls everything it touches, which is why these matters come to the fore NOW.

Because Pluto moves so slowly—it takes 248 years to complete its cycle—it occupies each degree for weeks, sometimes months at a time; and, as I mentioned earlier, there are periods of retrograde motion; so Pluto only moves a couple of degrees a year.  Hence, for observers of geopolitical astrology, each degree has weight and meaning.  Pluto’s last degree—5• Capricorn—was dynamic: “Indians on the warpath.  While some men row a well-filled canoe, others in it perform a war dance.”  Multifaceted mobilization has been the theme since the end of August, and what have we seen?  Passionate protest against privilege on Wall Street.  Mass murder of citizens in Syria and Yemen, attempting desperately to throw off cruel regimes.  Global markets tumbling and being propped up, only to rise and fall again.  Frantic, thwarted attempts to stave off starvation in sub-Saharan Africa.  With all this activity, surely it must be time to assess our efforts determine what is or isn’t working?  Are we not sufficiently aroused?

Enter Pluto at 6• Capricorn.  We have to pause, because the Zeitgeist demands it.  We are mobilized, impassioned, outraged; now we have to figure out how to use that Plutonian energy to do what needs doing to complete the tasks before us, so that when we get to the next degree–7• Capricorn—we will be able to hear when the “veiled prophet speaks” what it is that he is telling us.  We’ll have to know how.

I have always been fascinated by eclipses.

From Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court I learned of their fortuitous habit of appearing in the nick of time in a manner both mystical and magical; from my parents and teachers I learned that one can harm one’s eyes by watching them without protection.  (We made cunning little boxes, crude camerae obscurae, in order to observe them indirectly.)

I understood the basic concepts—a solar eclipse is like a super-charged new moon, a time of beginnings; a lunar eclipse is an equally-intense full moon, signifying the culmination of events.  The effects of a solar eclipse are more obvious, because it operates in the world of spirit; lunar eclipses are more subtle, as they activate the stirrings of the soul.  The houses in which they fall indicate the area of one’s life affected; if they land on or oppose a natal planet, they will work through matters associated with that planet.  They generally travel in pairs, at roughly 6-month intervals; occasionally there will be an extra (generally solar) eclipse.  June-July 2011 is such an occasion.

As a novice astrologer I devoured Robert Jansky’s classic Interpreting the Eclipses (now, sadly, out of print), absorbing astronomical data about eclipse duration and nodal emphasis, both crucial in determining the length and intensity of the effects.  In Jansky I read of Saros Cycles, a series of 18-year eclipse returns which invariably held the flavour (for good or for ill) of the first eclipse in each series.  (Jansky mentions 19; NASA charts 175.)  Jansky wrote with passion and precision (he was a Scorpio), documenting case histories from his client files (including his own firing from a long-time position).  I was hooked; but couldn’t find more material at the time and went onto other astrological explorations, mentally shelving the intention to delve deeper into eclipse lore.

Mainly what I learned was that eclipses disrupt.  And they do: they clear out stagnant areas in our lives, whether we want them to or not.  Like Pluto, they pick us up and move us, or they inspire us, or they thrust new influences and experiences into our path.  An eclipse on my Venus took me from my well-established life in Nova Scotia to my childhood home in Maryland to marry my high-school sweetheart—after thirty-six years—two eclipse cycles.

Celeste Teal’s fine book, Eclipses, which came into my hands in December and which I did not start reading until recently (spurred by this 3-eclipse month, June 1^st to July 1^st) has put everything I have read and experienced about eclipses into perspective and given me practical, useful insight on how to incorporate them into my practice.  I am still absorbing and playing with the concepts she packs into that book.  And Fred Espenak—Mr. Eclipse, as he is less formally known—NASA’s premier eclipse scientist—has compiled a Fifty-Year Canon of Solar Eclipses: 1986-2035, charting the Saros Series in depth.  (His companion tome on lunar eclipses will shortly be available from Amazon.)

I have a lot of reading to do.  Thank goodness it’s summer.