Tensed Like the Strings of Amphion's Lyre

There is a new moon in Libra this weekend and the Sun, Moon, Mercury and Venus conjoin in that sign.  The image I have for this line up is of a four-string lyre, played by one of my favourite characters from Greek myth, Amphion.  Libra holds taut the tension of the strings, without which there could be music.  I'll tell you the story of Amphion who I see an archetypal Mercury/Venus in Libra character.  It's a beautiful Libran story!

Amphion and Zethos were the twin sons of Zeus and Antiope.  Like many of the herous of Greek they were raise in secrecy of a remote mountainside to avoid the malevolent forces that sought to destroy them in their infancy.  While they were growing up on Mount Cithaeron, Amphion, the more sensitive of the brothers, attracted the favour of Hermes (Mercury) who gifted him a lyre.  Amphion became devoted to the instrument and played it night and day.  Zethos, his more practical brother taunted him and accused him of being lazy and good-for-nothing.  As far as he was concerned, Amphion's love of music prevented him from doing anything useful.

But later, after the two brothers had conquered Thebes and were set the task of rebuilding and fortifying the city, it was Amphion who had the last laugh.  For while Zethos toiled to shift the mighty stones, Amphion simply played his lyre and the resonance of his music was so perfectly in harmony with the cosmos that the stones simply slid effortlessly into place.  So it was that Seven-Gated Thebes was raised through the power of music!

This weekend is a perfect time to come together with someone you love and experience the creative tensions that exist between you, not by trying to make something happen and move the stones into place - but by tuning into the cosmic music and allowing it to happen naturally.  It's a time, where you can experience the world of possibility that opens up when you really allow that person's unique "otherness" to meet you head on. Often, we relate to the significant others in our lives simply as a projections of the judgments and assumptions that we already hold about them.  So take the opportunity during this beautiful Libran line-up to open up to this "other" really is. 

I'm doing just that this weekend.  I'm off to a couple's tantra weekend with my wife Colette.  I'm slightly apprehensive (I have an exact Venus-Saturn conjunction after all), but nonetheless open and ready to experience our relationship again, as if for the first time.  How appropriate that it should be happening over a Libra new moon, with Amphion hitting the sweet spot!

Beautifully Balanced in the Claws of the Scorpion

It is worth remembering that Libra has not always been represented as a pair of delicately balanced scales. There was a time when that constellation was actually marked as the claws of the Scorpion. The memory of this is beautifully depicted in this image of the constellation. I've been thinking a lot about this symbolism and would like to share the follow insights that have come to me about this.

I think of Libra as the sign in the zodiacal journey around the wheel where we become conscious. If we think in terms of its association with the 7th house, then, it is the sign where raise our head above the horizon for the first time. It is the sign where we first encounter opposition (in its opposition to the first sign, Aries). So it is the sign through which we become conscious of ourselves in relation to the other, where "otherness" comes to meet us!

So here we have a threshold point, where dwells the threshold guardian, whose persective is directly opposed to that of our own most personal, Arien / first-house identity.  I somemtimes think of it as personal blind-spot in the wheel.  And this "otherness" that both opposes and mirrors us, might appear in our lives as a lover, a business partner, a soul mate, or a worthy opponent. But whichever it is, there is an irresistible attraction that draws the other into our midst during this stage of the journey. And the spirit of Libra throws us another prop too - a very fetching pair of rose coloured spectacles through which to view our "mate".

During this period of attraction and seduction is the Autumn season greets us first in its more balanced Libran phase.  And it meets our gaze with the most remarkable natural beauty and quality of light as leaves turn a rich array of colours and shades. But remember the scales are really a pair of Scorpion's claws. Autumn is possessed of a darker intent, and will reveal its true identity in the next sign.  The pans, or the claws? Either way, they hold us transfixed in the immutable grip of death and re-birth, that so characterises this extraordinary season.

Capturing the Sunset
Again when we consider the Libra association with the seventh house and, thus, the setting sun, we find powerful imaginal resonance. One is at once enthralled by the beauty of the sunset, and capivated by its myriad colours. There's a kind of nostalgia held fast in that moment of the day as light it fades and darkness approaches. It seems to me a perfect mirror of the seasonal moment. So the Libran artisan attempts to capture the beauty of the sunset, the beauty of Autumn, trying to hold the tension in the colours as they turn. What we want, it seems, is to preserve that moment, freeze it, dedicate it to memory, capturing it with our camera, or on the canvas or in a musical score.

So it is in this confrontation with that which opposes our known identity, through having to dance with the tension in the opposition that we are prepared, nature-readied for the unfolding process of death and re-birth. For six months, since that first Arien bud broke seed pod on the first cherry tree, we have been shown nothing but visible signs of life, that are so obvious that they overwhelm us with their vitality and presence. Now on that cusp of death, of night, of dreamtime. We are readying ourselves for the journey of the soul into the underworld-wonderworld, where we will need very different instruments of navigation that we required during the 'light' phase of the year. We must learn much about our shadow if we are to make a successful crossing, and embrace death as an essential part of life. Through this we come to know that the opposite of death is not in fact life, but birth - and that life indeed has no opposite, for it is all-embracing, all-composing, all-engaging.

From the Wedding to the Marriage
Life, then, is the journey and re-birth is a stage in that journey that we will learn about as Autumn's true mission begins to confront us now.  In Libra we are still flirting with commitment, playing the mating game. And we may try to play along with that Libran lightness, long after the colourful leaves are composted in the ground, and we are left dancing with shadows - mourning the lack of response that we receive back from the other. We may marry in Libra, quite appropriately too, for it is the sign of the wedding and nature's backdrop could not be more poignantly beautiful.  As we enter Scorpio, though, we are confronted, inevitably with the truth of that marriage - as the confetti withers and the albums of memories begin to gather dust, and the real work of marriage - transformation - begins. The marriage that is unable to foretell, or embrace, the shadow and when it inevitably arises, unable to experience the depths of its transformational power, is liable to suffer the confines of a lightweight, compromise union. Or else have it played out repeatedly to some form of conclusion through the dark arts of the divorce lawyer or criminal investigator.

In terms of time, of course, the astrological year is a metaphor for our life's journey, but not "just" a metpahor, for its cycle is relentless and existentially 'real'.  We may spend years, or lifetimes, predominating our attention in the Libran phase, vaguely glimpsing or consciously avoiding the successive phases. The power of following the year in this ritual way, as we do on The Alchemical Journey allows us to imitate Nature's extraordinary teaching in an embodied, processional way.  As we start to weave that deep understanding back into our lives, so we begin to recognise the symbols, the metaphors, the deep, timeless archetypal stories when they appear to us, in our dreams, and in our everyday encounters.

So, here we are in Libra - held fast in the pans of the scales, in the claws of the Scorpion, illuminating the tension in our lives between light and shadow, such that we might know a deeper truth of our destiny and be prepared to surrender the known for the unknown, the identity for the Soul.

PostScript:  The Southern Hemisphere
As you might imagine, I am often asked the question "what about the southern hemisphere?", where the seasons are reversed and thus not in synch with the symbolism of the signs, or else opposed to them.  I have done quite a bit of deep thinking about this and have some quite passionately held views about it - which I am more-than-happy to converse about here or any other other internet platform for that matter.  And I may write up my ideas as a blog topic in the future.

A Time To Consider. To Be with the Stars

Libra holds a unique place in the zodiacal wheel. It is a sign full of paradox. As the only sign in the zodiac not represented by an animal or human figure, we might expect it to be less possessed of animal instinct than the other signs, somewhat aloof, too from the emotional roller-coaster of human experience. It is possible to recognise both of these traits in the Libra, yet here we have the sign that is the representative of relationship and marriage in the zodiac. It is through the Libran perspective that two people are drawn together in union, in matrimony. Libra is the sign of marriage, the marriage of opposites. It is the sign that holds the tension of the polarities - male and female, light and dark, yin and yang.

People born under Libra often describe how they cannot make their minds up, find it difficult to decide which way to go, which lover to choose, when to act. During my 18 years as a practising astrologer, I have observed a predominance of clients with strong Libra (and 7th house) themes in their charts, looking for guidance. Whereas a strong Aries type will just act, and then work out the consequences later, the Libran must consider the consequences first, weigh things up, assess the pros and cons, and perhaps seek guidance for others as to what to do.

During our recent Libran weekend on The Alchemical Journey, we addressed this issue through experiential play, and what emerged was quite revelatory, especially for the two strong Libra-types that we had present in our group. The gift of the Libran perspective is to resist the tempatation to act, to suspend judgment, to hold the opposites in tension, to hold the middle ground. This is why Librans make natural mediators of course, why they can facilitate individuals and groups with violently conflicting points of view to sit down at the table together and "air" their differences. Libra belongs to the element of air, the element of communication, dialogue and exchange of ideas. People who can stand authentically in the Libran perspective have to ability to hold up a mirror for each side and enable each side to cultivate an attitude of reflection, to see themselves reflected in the other, to enable self and other to remain engaged, in relationship. This is Libra's great gift and it is a profound one. It is little wonder however, in a culture that values action over reflection, that Libra has such a hard time!

This does mean, of course, mean that Librans should just avoid make decisions. But it does seek to honour value of reflection and consideration. Libra is the 7th sign of the zodiac, and it offers us the first opposition in the wheel, the opposition with Aries, the first sign. So the "I" of Aries becomes the "We" of Libra. The desire (de-sidere - to be separated from the stars) of Aries becomes the consideration (con-sidere - to be with the stars) of Libra. As astrologer Darby Costello has noted in her beautiful essay "Desire & the Stars", (http://www.darbycostello.co.uk), the gift of consideration, is the gift of union with the other half of our being, the heavenly half. Our two Librans found this realisation to be extremely helpful, as they were both anxious that they should be making a decision - and perhaps hadn't really given themselves permission to truly "consider" their options before resting upon an actual decision.

As with all the sign perspectives, the gift of Libra is not just for Librans. It is a perspective that we all have the ability to hold, and during the month when the Sun travels through that sign, as it is now doing, we can draw strength from nature, which mimics the Libran disposition and thus teaches us how to integrate that perspective into our lives. That great Libran figure from Greek mythology, Themis, teaches us that the social order is derived directly from natural order. Themis is always depicted blindfolded with a pair of scales in one hand and a sword in the other. As daughter of the original pairing of Ouranos (sky-god) and Gaia (earth-goddess), she is close to the centre of things, and it is her wisdom of balance and natural justice to which the divine hierarchy of the Greeks must always defer. In the Libran cycle of the year, initiated by the equinox of equal day and night, Summer turns to Autumn and nature is held in a delicate balance. So the Spirit of Libra invites us to imitate this situation in our lives, and consider what is in the balance for ourselves, and to both recognise and allow the tensions to exist, for these are creative tensions, tensions out of which beauty, insight and opportunity may emerge.

Bless you Libra!

Life in The Balance

I've been thinking a lot about my relationship to the sign of Libra in the last week or so as I contemplate our forthcoming workshop for this sign (26/27th Sept). Being an Aries, it's my opposite sign, so it's one I know I have a lot to learn from. I went through a phase when I was in my twenties of being irresistibly attratced to Libran women. I always put that down to the "attraction of opposites" and there's certainly a lot in that. The perspective that is directly opposed to my own most familiar perspective is the one I'm likely to be attracted to if I am looking to complete myself and become more than I am. And Libra is really the sign where we confront the principle of both opposition and attraction. It encapsulates the much publicised "law of attraction" principle, in that if we focus our desire in a particular way toward what we want, we will attract it to us and ultimately unite with it. But equally (and fasincatingly), as we face up to what is, in effect, our mirror image in the people and circumstances we meet in the world - that which we attract, being different from what we already know - it inevitably stimulates tension, conflict and even repulsion when it actually comes knocking on our door! So, I've been working on the Libra chapter of my book over the last few days. Here are some extracts from what I've written...

Embracing Paradox

As the wheel turns from Virgo to Libra, our attention turns toward beauty, balance and harmony. With the harvest in, the crop can now be weighed in the scales and, as day and night find their equilibrium again, so we are gently prompted by nature's alchemical cycle to redress the balance in different aspects our own lives, especially in relationships. As our elemental focus shifts from earth air, the Zodiac invites us to lift our gaze, raise our vibration, and take time out to reflect upon, and really appreciate that which is other than ourselves. Libra is the sign through which we may learn to relate to phenomena as it appears to us, learn to respect its 'otherness'. It is an invitation to suspend our hasty judgments, relate more openly to those who cross our path, however different or opposed their viewpoint might be from our own. Libra offers us the perspective through which we may learn to become more accepting of paradox, develop our aesthetic appreciation of life, and consider the possibility that things are what they seem.

Autumnal Reflections

This time of the year offers us a perfect opportunity to appreciate nature, reflect upon her gifts and give thanks for her bounty. The harvest moon, the full moon closest to the Autumn Equinox, is the second moment in the year when light and dark are again balanced. Just as the Spring Equinox initiated a period of light, growth and verdancy, so the Autumn Equinox initiates the elevation of darkness over light as nature begins to withdraw from its outward expression, and we move into a more reflective mode. Just as Aries, embodying the dawn of the year, is sunrise time; so Libra embodies the setting sun, the dusk of the alchemical year. As the scales tip gradually toward shorter days and longer nights, it seems an appropriate time to weigh our own lives in the balance, embrace other viewpoints, suspend judgment and hold out an olive branch for peace, understanding and reconciliation.

The Alchemical Wedding

Libra represents the archetypal wedding of opposite forces, the uniting of male and female, of light and dark, of day and night. It invites an alchemical fusion that is fraught with creative tension, yet which enlivens the imagination to create new ways of combining opposing energies. It is the taught strings on Apollo's lyre that will bring forth the harmony, the stretched canvas of the painter mirrored in his own struggle for expression pulls at his heart strings and motivates his art. Libra, always looking for refinement, for that ideal partnership that will transcend conflict, elevate the soul and resonate with the harmony of the spheres. This notwithstanding, Libra is the divinely packaged usherette of death and transformation par excellence. The reality of this may not be felt until we meet the next sign, yet the preparations for that transition are all made here. It is Libra's role to disguise the deeper truth we must face in Scorpio, and seduce us into the mysteries of transformation through her beauty, her art and her gift for diplomacy.

Autumn leaves, in the process of their dying, inspire the artist to reach for her palette as colours turn golden, red and orange. So too, the myriad colours of sunset constellate our imaginings and turn our minds toward mystical union, which always involves the death of that which is known and a leap of faith into that which is not. The Wedding, too, so beautifully designed, choreographed to produce a perfect image of togetherness, seduces us into a marriage that will require us to surrender our individual status, give up our singleness of outlook, and merge our own unique light with that of our opposite. So it is that Libran beauty and idealism precipitate the reality of union in which we must learn to embrace otherness, recognise that which confronts us and learn to appreciate an opposing perspective.

Libran Mythology

In Egyptian myth, Libra is Ma'at, the goddess of the scales who, at the time of death, weighed the human soul on one pan and an ostrich feather on the other. If the scales tipped, then the soul must re-incarnate with the aim of releasing the surplus weight. Ma'at reminds us that the prime goal in life is balance, and for the Egyptians this was necessary to prepare the soul for the afterlife. In the Greek tradition, she is the seer Themis, who wears a blindfold and holds a pair of scales in one hand and a sword in the other. Themis is the daughter of Gaia and personifies the social order of law and customs on Mount Olympus, reminding us that social order is always drawn from natural order. In Christian tradition, the scales are held by the archangel Michael, who is celebrated during the Libran phase of the year at Michaelmas. Each of these deified beings bears a similar function that maintains both social and spiritual order.

There was a time before the Greek zodiac established its autonomy, when the constellation we know as Libra was actually an extension of Scorpio, its claws, and it is worth remembering that there is always a sting in the Libran perspective, as the blind prophet Tiresias found out to his cost. Before his blinding, Tiresias was granted by Hera the rare opportunity to experience life as a woman, so that he could have knowledge from both male and female perspectives. This trans-sexual initiation gave him a unique insight, which the gods exploited in the settlement of argument. Zeus and Hera were arguing over whether man or woman enjoyed greater sexual pleasure. Asked to adjudicate, Tiresias shared his honest experience that woman enjoys nine tenths of the pleasure, while man only one tenth. Furious that Tiresias should divulge such secret knowledge, she strikes him blind, while Zeus grants him the gift of prophecy in respect of his honesty.

"To the Fairest"

Adjudication is an obvious Libran theme and it features prominently in one of the most fitting of Libran stories, the Judgment of Paris. When uninvited guest Eris (also known as Discord, a classic aspect of the Libran shadow) gatecrashes the wedding of Peleus and Thetis, deep passions are stirred. She throws a golden apple before the gathering of goddesses. It bears the inscription "To the Fairest". Paris is called in to judge the beauty contest that ensues and is set the unenviable task of choosing between Hera (goddess of marriage), Athena (goddess of wisdom) and Aphrodite (goddess of love). Paris is seduced by the latter choosing love over wealth and power, a decision that seals the fate of Troy. Lest we forget that is was for the beauty of Helen, Aphrodite's prodigy and "the face that launched a thousand ships", that the bloodiest war in Greek history was fought.

Reflecting on Eris's challenge, I am struck by the wonderfully Libran ambiguity in the wording inscribed upon the apple. "To the fairest". We would naturally translate that as to mean the most beautiful, but the actually wording throws up a question as to what is meant by that. The fairest equally implies even-tempered, well balanced in judgment and possessed of the quality of equanimity. It is interesting that this Libran story should emphasise "fairness" rather than voluptuousness or sensuousness. For Libra is not a sign of passion, but rather a sign of balance. In our story though the aesthetic pleasure derived from a well-balanced deportment is inevitably rejected in favour of a deep lust that lurks insatiably in the heart of the cool headed adjudicator.

The Libran phase of the alchemical journey around the wheel of the year, then, offers an opportunity to ponder, consider others opinions and learn to walk a middle path. It forms the first and most fundamental opposition in the Zodiac, that which exists with Aries, its opposite sign. We are six months in, half way around the wheel and for the first time in our unfolding journey, we are compelled to stare face-to-face into the eyes our opposite number. As much as Aries is impulsive and self-willed, with a single-minded, warrior-like passion, so Libra is considerate, reflective, and relationship-minded, with a taste for mediation and refinement, fairness and reconciliation. This is the first time on our journey where we are really forced to consider the consequences of our actions, and the impact they have on others. It is thus through the perspective of Libra that we first become truly conscious.

Transforming Relationship

Libra is a double-edged air sign, presenting us with both our partner and our opponent, stretching us to acknowledge our differences, learn mediation and find ways of reaching agreement, even if it forces us to reconsider our own cherished view of the world. Libra teaches us above all else that it is no longer enough to simply satisfy our own individual appetites, for we must now embrace our mirror image, and recognise how that which we do not appreciate or understand in ourselves, will inevitably manifest through those with whom we are drawn to unite. Whether as lover, business partner, opponent or rival, we are challenged to establish the principles of engagement in Libra, to draw up contracts, learn to listen to one another, develop strategies for meaningful exchange and learn to see the world through the eyes of another.

The Alchemy of Harvest

Virgo must surely be the most misunderstood and undervalued sign in the zodiacal wheel. For beyond the popular image of an innocent virgin, secretary or nit-picker, lies an experienced mistress of purification, discernment, and sexual control. Virgo is the only woman in the Zodiac and one of only three remaining in the whole heavenly sphere. Two of them were chained in the Greek cosmos - Cassiopeia & Andromeda - but Virgo remained free, as the sole representation of the Goddess in the constellations of the night sky. To the Greeks, she was Demeter, with her wheat sheaf, or ear of corn, overseeing the grain harvest and holder of the key to the secret of agriculture. To the Egyptians she was Isis with her child Horus and in the Christian cosmos, Mary with the Christ child. She is a virgin in its older meaning, certainly, as one who owns her own body and chooses when and with whom to unite! Virgo marked the Summer Solstice around 5000BC, and her departure from there is said to have coincided with the end of the Golden Age.¹ She left in disgust, some say, at how humanity had fallen from grace. So, like the mystery school initiates who invoke her return, we are re-imagining her on The Alchemical Journey this month as the Great Goddess that she once was, as we invite her qualities into our lives.

The Virgo phase represents a critical moment in the alchemical year, when the crop must be cut down in its prime, harvested and its essence extracted. In the human life cycle, Virgo represents the rite of passage, where we find out what we’re really made of. This is marked in traditional societies by being cut away from familial roots, through circumcision or ablation, or other initiation rite. We experience Virgo whenever we are examined, judged, cut down to size, as wheat is sorted from chaff. Just as our Leonine experiences have helped us realise and express our confidence and creative potential in life, so our Virgoan ones have set us to task. The harvest goddess shapes and moulds our spontaneous impulses into practical, useful, sustainable projects that serve the greater good. She strips away our indulgences, hones our creative instincts and transforms our promises into everyday miracles, like golden wheat being turned into the food that nourishes a community.

Virgo is ruled by Mercury the wily magician, whose skill and cunning knits together the fabric of life into a seamless dance, his magic embedded in the details of life. Our task in Virgo, then is to sweep, to clean, to tidy, to order, to polish, to wax, to sharpen, to distill, and to become still ourselves as we perfect the ordinary tasks of life. Through bringing mindfulness to our repetitive actions, honouring time, work and our body’s rhythms, we actually open up the possibility of transcending those ritual structures, and entering a liminal space between worlds where transformation can occur.

This puts me in mind of the 1970s rite of passage film, The Karate Kid, in which a young American wannabe is trained by a Japanese zen master, so that he can stand up for himself against a local bully. In one classic sequence, as part of the boy’s karate training, he is set a series of menial tasks, waxing his teacher’s cars, painting his garden fence, sanding the floor. This goes on for days with no apparent connection to karate, until the boy eventually snaps and accuses the old man of exploiting his trust just to get his household chores done. His frustration then turns to revelation in an extraordinary scene, when he suddenly realizes that in the embodiment of these repetitive actions he has actually learned a series of powerful karate moves which are now second nature to him. As with the alchemists, as they attempt to imitate and perfect Nature’s own creative process in their laboratories, these repetitive trials offer the ritual service necessary to precipitate our inner gold.

In the Glastonbury Zodiac, Virgo is “Old Mother Cary”, her figure drawn by the River Cary, a name suggestive of the Celtic harvest goddess, Ceridwen, mother of Taliesin. The river which rises at the springs of “our lady” paints her flowing robe at Wheathill, her swollen belly at Babcary and her breast at the bronze age barrow, Wimble Toot. She holds her sheaf of wheat at Keinton Main-de-Ville, where her hand rests.² These associations continue to enchant our journeys into this landscape temple, which meets us with new synchronicities on every walk.

If you’d like to keep following the journey, please join our mailing list, as I will continue to post a monthly article online. You’ll now find on our website a YouTube film about The Alchemical Journey, superbly crafted by Kevin Redpath & Tim Knock. We have two events lined up in September. On 12^th /13^th September, Anthony Thorley and I are running a weekend for the Isle of Avalon Foundation, entitled “Living the Glastonbury Zodiac”, where we’ll be exploring the origins of the Zodiac and how we can work with it practically in our lives. We’ll be walking in two of the zodiac figures. Our next Alchemical Journey workshop is for Libra, on 19^th / 20^th September, “The Alchemical Wedding: Beauty, Balance & Partnership”. Happy harvesting!

Leo: Alchemical Gold & All That Glitters…

Ever had the feeling that you have a much greater destiny in life, a royal or heroic path? Ever feel like the people you encounter in your life should really be laying a red carpet before you as you arrive? This probably sounds a bit over the top, and one might well be embarrassed to admit ever entertaining such fantasies. Before we dismiss the idea, though, let us indulge the Leo phase of the annual cycle we now find ourselves in, and consider how our personal narratives are stitched together. After all, our life stories are never just a collection of random personal events and circumstances; they are woven through with mythic, archetypal themes that entwine themselves around our everyday experiences, even when we are largely unconscious of them.

We all have the ability to identify ourselves as a King Arthur, a Cleopatra, a Luke Skywalker, or a Lara Croft, and it can inspire us to rise to the challenges we face in life, go beyond our fears and limitations. To have our hearts suddenly ignited with an uncommon enthusiasm, to be in the presence of an inexplicable synchronicity or otherworldy power, to glimpse the possibility of who we are, how we may once have been and what we may become.

This month, as the Sun passes through the sign of the Lion, the Zodiac seems to grant us permission to let the divine light within us shine out in the world. We can take our cues from nature - sunflowers turning their proud faces toward the Sun, or the golden fields of wheat and corn swaying elegantly in a royal summer breeze. The work of the alchemist is mimetic; it seeks to imitate nature’s transformational cycles and evoke their symbolic power. So during this season of fruition and growth, we should celebrate the glory of who we are and allow the natural warmth and confidence within us to radiate out.

Children have no problem playing kings and queens, goddesses and heroes. It just pours forth effortlessly from their creativity and their joy. As adults we’ve become serious and significant, careful to distinguish reality from fantasy, but the line can never be clearly drawn. So let’s welcome this great fire sign of Leo and honour those Leonine characters that bring colour to our lives and invite us to trust the spontaneous impulse to make things up in the moment, play-act, and lose ourselves in fabulous stories.

To experience ourselves within a mythic setting through dreams or visionary journeys, even just being here within the enchanted Isle of Avalon and its great Zodiac temple, is to be in touch with the heavenly half of our being. We should be careful not to overly literalise or personalise this imaginal experience, though. Trying to steal fire from the gods to inflate our individual identities invariably leaves us chained to the impenetrable rock of self-importance! Better to honour that great solar power from which we draw each inspirational breath - allow its fiery force to shine through us and radiate out of us, whilst tending the candle flame of our own personal destinies with dedicated humility.

There is a wonderful character in alchemy, the Green Lion, often depicted swallowing the Sun and causing blood to flow from it. Green is the colour of transformation, and of the earth, and the lion can be seen as the alchemical flask to which the “sun-that-bleeds” surrenders itself. After a series of initiatory stages, the green lion reappears as a king marked with seven stars regurgitating an eternal sun of pure gold, a celestial lion of the verdant earth impregnated by the immortal heavens. Part of our journey into the Leo archetype, then, is to distinguish which Lion / Sun we are dealing with - the golden light of our heroic lion-heart or the glittering ego with its polished surfaces and grand gestures!

On The Alchemical Journey workshop this month, we practised being seen by each other and exposing the truth of our hearts. It is one of the most simple, yet profoundly challenging processes that we do on the course. As each person stood before the group, we gently coached each other to distinguish for ourselves that aspect of our nature that is continually trying to impress others, from that which is naturally, effortlessly impressive. What we realised through this exercise is that when we allow our innate presence to shine joyfully through us, our ordinarily inflated egos gradually begin to fall into line and give up trying to run the show!

Our next Alchemical Journey workshop is Virgo: The Alchemy of Everyday Life on Sat 22^nd & Sun 23^rd August. It will be held upstairs at The Avalon Conservative Club on Glastonbury High St. This is the month where we really get down to the business of harvesting our gold. The price is £125 for the weekend (some concessions available). See our half page advert for more information. I’m still here living in Glastonbury, so feel free to get in touch. My number is 07869 133759. Have a great month!

The Mystery of Home

One of the key questions that we pose during the Cancerian phase of the Alchemical Journey is “what does home mean to you?”. What emerges from our enquiries continually is that home is a place of peace or solace, connection, effortless joy, love, warmth, a place to return to, a place that sustains and nourishes us; time and again, the answers seemed to echo each other. Invariably, home is re-called by participants as an experience of being 'at home', surrounded by the natural beauty of the world around them, a return to a temporarily lost connection to the natural world and the divinity implicit within it.

The Greeks have a term oikos, which I find particularly helpful as I ponder this same question myself. It is from oikos that we derive our root term ‘eco’, and it is translated as meaning ‘home’. It is a richly conceived term though. While it can refer to a human experience of home as the place where you live, or originate from, it can also be a temple, or an astrological 'house'.[1] It embraces not only a place, but also an experiential desire or search for home, which incorporates the building and caretaking of temples and precincts, wherein the gods may be accommodated, and wherein both human and divine may dwell together. Our modern term ‘ecology’, coined by the naturalist Ernst Hackel in 1869 to describe the relationships between plants, animals and the environment, thus suddenly seems to carry a more profound, mysterious connotation. It embodies a spiritual longing for return, a desire to reconnect to one's home, to one's roots.

Few things are more important to us in life than finding a home, and we may spend much of our lives searching for that experience. Thomas Moore speaks of the experience of enchantment, “thick in the air”, when we experience, albeit momentarily, this oikos, and how we are “haunted by its elusiveness”, when we lack it. Martin Heidegger describes the experience of being 'at home', as an experience of authenticity, something the human beings tends to encounter only as rare, but profoundly enlightened moments. For Heidegger, these moments exist among a vast sea of inauthentic experience when we feel cast adrift from the experience of being at home. Maurice Merleau-Ponty talks of moments when the distinction between subject and object temporarily dissolves in our perception and we recognise that we are genuinely connected to that which we perceive in a way that no longer renders us separate from it. Such realisations are momentary, and seem to exist outside of the delineation of normal time and space. Or practice of making a home for the soul, then, is one of creating a temple that can accommodate the possibility of such momentary exaltation.

So home must be something more than just shelter. It must embody a sense of belonging, a sense of being in the right place with the right people around, in the right kind of environment, engaged in activities that feel right and that allow the soul to penetrate our experience. For Thomas Moore, ecology is the ‘mystery of home’, a mystery that can embrace more than just the place where we live, for our sense of home can even extend to include even the planet itself as our home; enough that it might inspire us to act to protect and take responsibility for it.
[1] Moore, The Re-Enchantment of Everday Life, p. 41-2