Forget the Stars (Why I’m Over Astrology)
Mercury is always in retrograde. It’s probably retrograding right now. At least it seems that way. While the fickle nature of the gray planet is an excellent justification for a bad hair day or a bad day at the office or simply a bad attitude, the whole astrology thing is getting tired. Or maybe it’s me that’s tired. You see, I’m a Sagittarius sun-Libra moon-Virgo rising believer in astrology, but I’m starting to lose faith.
I built my understanding of the stars on the bible of astrology, Bernard Fitzwalter’s “The Complete Sun Sign Guide” [currently out of print]. (Note: everyone seems to have his or her own version of an astrology bible, Bernard just happens to have written mine.) Handed to me by a new friend during the first week of my first year of college, the Guide led me through the complications of a Scorpio-Sagittarius love affair (he’s introverted and lusty, I’m easily bored and playful) and explained why a Virgo mother (mine) and Sagittarius daughter (me) will most likely never get along.
Take that book and add to it 10 years of skimming the weekly horoscope in my city’s local magazine and you’ve got a guaranteed recipe for astrological disaster. I’m convinced that I’ve allowed what now seems like nothing more than self-fulfilling prophecy to talk me out of signing important contracts, rearranging my home, and snuggling with my loved one. There have been weeks when my horoscope was accurate—times when I’ve looked up and asked, “how can she possibly know that I’ve been seeking out change and excitement?” or “yes, I am planning a distant trip,” but they do not outnumber the days that I’ve spent fighting a nagging worry that the astrologer’s bad news may actually come true.
According to Bernard, Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter, which pushes me to seek out wider horizons. So I’m doing just that. Moving on past astrology. Onto brighter pastures. Maybe I’ll look into numerology.
Do you believe in astrology? Does your horoscope affect your day?
I built my understanding of the stars on the bible of astrology, Bernard Fitzwalter’s “The Complete Sun Sign Guide” [currently out of print]. (Note: everyone seems to have his or her own version of an astrology bible, Bernard just happens to have written mine.) Handed to me by a new friend during the first week of my first year of college, the Guide led me through the complications of a Scorpio-Sagittarius love affair (he’s introverted and lusty, I’m easily bored and playful) and explained why a Virgo mother (mine) and Sagittarius daughter (me) will most likely never get along.
Take that book and add to it 10 years of skimming the weekly horoscope in my city’s local magazine and you’ve got a guaranteed recipe for astrological disaster. I’m convinced that I’ve allowed what now seems like nothing more than self-fulfilling prophecy to talk me out of signing important contracts, rearranging my home, and snuggling with my loved one. There have been weeks when my horoscope was accurate—times when I’ve looked up and asked, “how can she possibly know that I’ve been seeking out change and excitement?” or “yes, I am planning a distant trip,” but they do not outnumber the days that I’ve spent fighting a nagging worry that the astrologer’s bad news may actually come true.
According to Bernard, Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter, which pushes me to seek out wider horizons. So I’m doing just that. Moving on past astrology. Onto brighter pastures. Maybe I’ll look into numerology.
Do you believe in astrology? Does your horoscope affect your day?
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