Mars rules choice, and choice requires death
There is a peach tree in our orchard that became so heavy with fruit some of its branches snapped. When we moved here she was sickly, malnourished. Years of underwatering and blight left me hopeless that she was even worth hanging onto. Like the gardener in Luke 13, AJ begged me: “‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it.”
With a couple summers of diligent watering and a very wet winter, the tree became covered in mounds of peaches this year. We were elated to see her so heavy with fuzzy abundance, but part of me was concerned. Her skinny, underdeveloped branches were not strong enough to bear the weight of her own fruit.
For a few weeks, each time I would pass her I would spend some minutes plucking peaches from giant bunches growing like grapes. I was scared to overdo it. After all, we had been so excited to see her come back. I didn’t want to waste any fruit.
Despite my best efforts, two of her delicate branches snapped nearly clean off. Ouch. To add insult to injury, the peaches were neither large nor very sweet. If I had removed more of the peaches, the branches would have stood a chance, and the remaining fruits would have gotten more nutrients, growing full and sweet.
This last month I wrapped up what some call a “Mars year.” At age 37, Scorpio, contained in my second house, was activated. Mars rules Scorpio and was therefore my “timelord” for the year. This peach tree has become a metaphor for what I have learned in the last year: Mars rules choice, and choice requires death. On the other hand, indecision allows the course of fate to choose for you.
One of the best teachers of this principle is the quarter moon phase, first and last. When we look at the quarter moons, we see a round object divided neatly in two, one side dark and one side light. These are the only times in the lunar cycle that we see a straight line on the moon. The quarter moon phenomenon is created by a 90-degree relationship between the sun and moon. The sun is always shining light on half the moon, and when that lit face is pointing directly to our right or left, we see, well, a quarter of the moon lit.
What’s really important to understand about quarter moons and the 90-degree soli-lunar relationship is that a square aspect (90 degrees between two planets or luminaries) is said to be of Mars. We derive the significance of our aspects (sextiles, squares, trines, and oppositions) from the distance between the domicile rulers of each sign, beginning with the luminaries. The distance from Cancer to Taurus is a sextile, and Venus rules Taurus, and therefore gives sextiles a Venusian flavor. The distance from Cancer to Aries is a square, and Mars rules Aries, and therefore gives squares a Martial flavor. This continues with Cancer to Pisces (a trine, ruled by Jupiter) and Cancer to Capricorn (an opposition, ruled by Saturn). The same pattern follows from Leo to Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Aquarius. And what about the Mercurial signs, Gemini and Virgo? Mercury is neuter, and does not lend flavor to any aspects, and likewise neither Gemini makes an aspect to Cancer nor does Virgo to Leo.
So, the quarter moon phases are Martial in nature, turning points, choices, crises in the etymological sense of “discriminations” or “separations” or, yes, “decisions” (thank you to Dane Rudhyar and The Lunation Cycle for this signification). The first quarter moon is a half-lit moon becoming a mostly lit moon. The last quarter moon is a half-dark moon becoming a mostly dark moon. Every lunar cycle, the moon “kills” the darkness and then “kills” the light.
When we are called to make a choice we kill a possibility. That is the price of choice. There is something of a natural violence to choice with this built-in confrontation of death. Choice can be terrifying, I think, because we unconsciously or consciously realize in every significant choice made that we are mortal beings with finite and material lives that exist in contrast to the vast, infinite span of time and space. Choice is existential. Choice severs us from possible futures. Choice marches us forward toward our own inevitable deaths.
Trying to evade choice is like trying to evade death. They both come for us. The branches snap under the weight of too much fruit, too much possibility. Then, there is no fruit on those branches. Or, the fruit that survives is mealy and sour.
August’s astrology is full of squares, Mars’ aspect. Get a load of this list:
August 2 Venus square Uranus
August 12 First Quarter Moon (Moon square Sun) in Scorpio
August 15 Mars square Saturn Rx
August 18 Mercury Rx square Uranus
August 19 Sun square Uranus
August 19 Jupiter square Saturn Rx (happens in threes every 8-10 years)
August 22 Venus square Mars
August 26 Last Quarter Moon (Moon square Sun) in Gemini
This month’s astrology is decisive in nature. The choices we make over the next month will reverberate well into the future. So what does it mean for us to choose well? This calls to mind the spiritual principle of “discernment,” the etymology of which means to “separate apart.” Separation is also a Mars signification! I learned one of my favorite models for spiritual discernment from Christopher Morse’s Not Every Spirit, which imparts the “Ten Cs:”
Is it crucial? Of great importance?
Comprehensive? Does it address all or most details?
Consequent? Does it change anything?
Coherent? Is it logical and consistent?
Does it conform with your conscience?
Is it Catholic (universal)? Does it signal some universal truth?
Consonant with your experience?
Consistent with your praise of the divine?
Congruent with the great spiritual teachings?
Continue the tradition of the sharing and witnessing of good news?
As I reflect on this list I notice that each item is heavily flavored with Jupiterian significations: greatness, wisdom, universality, devotion, good news. Which brings me to what I think might be one of the most important transits of August: the Mars-Jupiter conjunction in Gemini.
Mars-Jupiter conjunctions are fairly rare, only happening once every two and half years. This is the first conjunction we’ve had in Gemini since 1989, and we won’t have another until 2060. Last year I presented on the astrological history of women’s ordination, and what nearly every chart of the first women’s ordinations in various traditions contained was a Mars-Jupiter contact. It appears that Mars-Jupiter combinations are a recipe for discernment, for making spiritually-informed choices, like ordaining women in historically patriarchal traditions.
This month is full of opportunities for both decision-making and discernment, the latter of which I believe helps us make choices that kill possibilities but not people, not love, not spirit. As always, I am here to support you in your own discernment processes with the help of God’s stunning language of astrology. Leos get 20% during Leo season with code LEO20. Book here.
May you be well this month of August.