Note: I need to present this post as a process, rather than just state my conclusions. Need to bring you into the flow of my own mental/spiritual currents, so that we may breathe through this revelation together.
Therefore, how should I begin? With the nagging internal nudge directing me to “do something with” the fact that Neptune has just turned to go from retrograde to direct motion (on November 16) and that Chiron will also turn to go direct tomorrow (November 23)? A rare enough conjunction of “direct motion” shift rendered all that more potent? dizzying? confusing? magical? by the fact that both the the planet (Neptune) and the planetoid (Chiron) are in Pisces, and not only that, but both sit motionless (while turning to go from retrograde to direct motion) in the sky less than nine degrees from one another (Neptune 4°57, Chiron 13°05)?
But wait. I didn’t even think about this odd concatenation of interplanetary turnings until I saw an article —
— that reminded me of Chiron, its meaning, that of the wound that must heal, the healing of that wound, the wounded healer — all three. For we all know that it is the wound that breaks us open, that forces the heart to, finally, let go of its defenses and surrender to the universe. And, we all know, we who have allowed this process to test us, anneal us, terrify us into losing all that we have cherished dear, our egos, images, property, relationships, health — you name it! Loss feels like loss, no matter what we fiercely cling to as “ours” — we all know that only the wounded heart can open to mystery, to compassion; that only in our wounds do we enter the brilliant dark of our souls longing for love.
Yes. Chiron. The wound, the need for healing, and the healing itself. All circumscribed by the cycle of Chiron, which happens to be approximately 51 years long.
But I didn’t think about Chiron’s cycle yesterday, I was just thinking about the wound, the collective wound that seems to be crippling America, as probed by that article above. Our PTSD.
And, at some point during that confusing, Neptunian day (for Neptune, having turned to go direct, continues to pulse slowly and subtly for awhile as it starts going forward), it also occurred to me that not only Chiron, but Neptune too, is in Pisces. Oh, of course I’ve known that all along, but I hadn’t penetrated into its mysteries except to say, in a number of earlier posts, that I was glad that Neptune is in Pisces (2011-2025) during the explosive Uranus/Pluto square (2012-2015), because, hopefully, it will engender a warm bath of loving forgiveness, a fluidic oneness that we all participate in, and thus serve as a medium for keeping us together on a soul level while the structures of our civilization begin to fly apart.
I did hope so. I still hope so. Hope. Hopium. I know that doesn’t count for much. On the other hand. World War III has not flashed the Earth into a cinder, at least not yet. On the other hand, despite wars and rumors of wars, despite overly publicized psy-ops of various kinds, despite little publicized genocidal slaughter here and there (in Africa, in Ukraine, in Iraq and Syria), we are still here, together, pretending that the world goes on as usual. Babies are conceived and born. Businesses are started, and some don’t die. Households, neighborhoods, communities begin to self-organize themselves to direct the hard and unfamiliar tasks of shifting from centrifugal to centripital motion — rather than constantly thinking global and abstract, we dig into the local, what grounds us, the utter dailiness of our personal kindness towards all Earthlings, for this subtle, soothing attitude really does “make the world go round.”
Ah yes, Ann, but don’t go off on a tangent.
Aaaah. . . so hard not to, on this Neptunian day when boundaries dissolve, focus disintegrates; I just want to sit in a warm bath and soak, dream, let go of all my troubles, settle into Neptunian fog.
Ann! Focus! Remember the subject, it’s important!
Okay. Here we go.
Neptune and Chiron, both in Pisces, both turning, within eight plus degrees of one another. The oneness of Neptune dissolving boundaries between us, so that the traumatic wound that affects us together can burble to the surface to encounter and be illuminated by the bright hard light of reality, of consciously recognizing just how broken we are as a nation; how our democracy, simply does not work, and perhaps never has; how robotic corporate militaristic behemoths have taken over and threaten the very aliveness of both Earthlings and the Earth herself.
But oh goddess, I don’t want to remember this. Don’t want to remember what a desperate situation we are all in. So I just won’t. I’ll succumb to that warm bath.
No! No! Remember! Re-member! Put yourself back together again!
Okay, but goddess, it’s so damn hard! I’m swirling in the same confusing waters as everyone else, alternately cold and warm streamings coursing over and through me from everywhere — dread and joy, fury and sweetness, growth and decay, clashing contradictions run like heroin through my veins, sugar and salt, bittersweet and bitingly cold cold cold. Buffalo New York! Aaach. How I ache for them, for us as we plough down into yet another winter designed? to break us apart, fighting for position, warmth, food, water, shelter, survival. Or not. Some of us find our strength in adversity, so much that our energetic excess is automatically used to assist those in need — for YES! all of us are in this together, none of us are alone, we are all-one, or we are nothing.
Then, and this is the “point” (hah!) to which I have been tending in this entire wandering Neptunian/Chironic essay: standing in my watery Piscean showever last night (I didn’t dare succumb to a bath), it suddenly occurred to me: Chiron is 51 years away from where it was . . . when . . . when . . . aaaah . . . aha . . . from when President Kennedy was killed. And furthermore, new bolt from the blue striking me through the hot steamy water, he was killed 51 years ago tomorrow (that’s today), November 22, 1963!
Geez! There you have it. The internal nudge that began to fester within me yesterday upon reading that article above now displays its fullness. Here is the chart for John F. Kennedy’s death.
Notice the first house Chiron, at 10° Pisces, only three degrees from its present position. Notice how it opposes powerful death/rebirth Pluto in Virgo, itself connected to explosive Uranus in Virgo, by a wide applying conjunction. One might say that the Kennedy Assasination was the shot heard round the world, the one that ignited the Uranus/Pluto conjunction, and the revolutionary fervor of “the ’60s” for good and ill that begins to show itself 40 years later during the Uranus/Pluto square.
Notice too, the position of the Sun in this assasination chart, for today on its 51st anniversary of Kennedy’s assasination, November 22, 2014, it is also the degree position that the Sun occupies: 29°44 Scorpio.
It is said that the 29th degree of any sign is the “karmic point” of that sign. In the very last degree, the lessons of that sign must be learned prior to entering the new sign (in this case, Sagittarius). And if the 29th degree of any sign is the most karmic, then the 29th degree of Scorpio is the most karmic point in the entire zodiac, since Scorpio is the most powerfully karmic sign, bar none, its effects ramifying hugely, long term, and underground. In Scorpio, what must be given up is the notion of power, power over others, itself. And that’s precisely what the perpetrators of the Kennedy assasination refused to do.
One might say that the Kennedy shot heard round the world penetrated the collective heart of humanity, seemingly scaring and scarring us, forever, the bullet of hatred and ill will stuck there, for eternity. No way out. No way forward.
What we are witnessing today, in the collective unravelling of our society, may be the beginning of the Chironic healing of this original wound. A festering, long hidden wound that must be opened, cleaned, aired and left open to the sun, so that we may see it and feel it and allow it to heal, on its own.
And of course, the “original wound” that I speak of is not original, for the wound has been perpetrated time and again, whenever a president or one in power dares to go against the seemingly all-powerful banksters. Kennedy is by no means the first to feel its sting, and my generation, the Pluto in Leo generation (1938-1958) is the one whose Leo heart was both broken and, possibly, opened, by the death of this one iconic man.
We are one. One with the world winds as they whip around the world, pulling us into unity through fear and/or love. One with President Kennedy and the vision, still unrealized of Camelot. One with the deep woundedness that has left us all stooped and broken, whether or not we realize it. Until we do, nothing will change. And when we do, well then, as Naomi Klein says, in the title to her new book: “This Changes Everything.”